#I'm really curious to hear about your opinion!

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[theflyindutchwoman]

Do you think lucy chen has daddy and mommy issues and that’s why she’s into older man? First Nolan and now Tim? Or maybe boys her age, like Chris and emmet are not on her same wavelength? Or does she just loves who she loves and maybe some people are reading waaaaay too much into it?

what’s your take?

Let me start this with a big old disclaimer : I don't have a background in psychology whatsoever. So I'm honestly uncomfortable with making any diagnosis. I can only talk about my perception, that's all. If anyone wants to add anything or correct me, please do, I'm interested to read your takes on this. Now that we've got that out of the way… This is a really good question. And short answer : no, I don't think she has "mommy/daddy issues".

Let's start with the "daddy issues". At this point, I feel like this term has become a catchphrase for whenever a woman dates an older man, but there's so much more to it than that. There are other signs, like having trust and communication issues with a male partner, craving reassurance from said-partner, being afraid of being alone and having abandonment issues so you cling to that partner… and yes, dating older men. Only in Lucy's case, she hasn't exclusively dated older men (and by that, I mean significantly older). Emmett, Chris, the firefighter she asked on a date as revenge for Emmett breaking up with her… and probably her cheating ex-boyfriend (though this one is just a guess) were around her age as far I can tell. Not to mention the yoga/screenwriter dudes Jackson talked about. So in her case, I'd argue she simply dates who she likes. She's not pursuing older men on purpose or exclusively. If you remember, Armstrong alluded to how she needed a 'man' and not a 'boy', someone who would not feel threatened by her and her career… and this feels pretty much like a meta comment from the writers. All the other signs I listed barely apply to her. Is she a people pleaser? Yes. But not just towards men. And she's not a doormat either. She's not particularly possessive. She trusted her partners.

As for "mommy issues"… I'm still going to say no. Is her mother overtly judgmental? From the little we have seen her, I'd say yes. And that could translate to a poor sense of self-worth and insecurities. But I'm not sure that's fully the case with Lucy. For the most part, she knows her worth. She knows her boundaries. That said, she also has moments of anxiety and this fear of disappointing the people around her. But I don't know if it's really impacting her relationships with men that much. I mean, it does, to an extent (like her apology for disappointing Tim). But I doubt that's why she dated Nolan or Tim. Or, at least, that's how I feel. Like I said, I'm no expert in this so I could be way off base.

[necrotic-nephilim]

in lieu of having posted any writing/headcanons/asks in the past few days because i have been *so* busy and unable to do anything fandom-related which is terrible and evil, i have a poll out of morbid curiosity and self-indulgence. i've been meaning to ramble here about how i feel about DC's lack fo Deaf representation and which Batfam members i would personally make Deaf, but i am mildly curious about the larger opinion and now i will subject you all to the question, i would love to hear thoughts/opinions/headcanons on any specific choices. (would love d/Deaf/HoH opinions esp but i'm mostly expecting this to reach the hearing crowd, so opinions from hearing ppl are ones i'm very curious about. if you've never given it thought before you are going to now or else /lh)

[clamorybus]

its not fun to talk about, and i feel like such a dick talking about them like this, but it's fucking sickening how easily swayed my parents are

[ja3yun]

better for you | s.jy

childhood best friend!jake x fem!reader (ft. bf!hoon)

warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, cheating (pls don't do that), tasting, possessive and jealous jake, competition and tension, petnames (baby), kinda dom!jake, anything else lmk!

w.c: 2.5k

REQ: Thinking about childhood friend jaeyun who has always had a crush on you but you had no idea and you show up to a family dinner with your new boyfriend and they keep competing silently yk? To prove who’s better and suddenly Jakes like well who can fuck her better 😋

a/n: i'm sorry to the anon who requested this! i have been so busy with other projects but i'm focusing on these drabbles today and well, your req became a semi-one shot so, i hope this is what you were after (sorry if it isn't)

"Hi everyone, meet Sunghoon," you introduce your boyfriend for the first time, a nervous flutter in your stomach. Your family have heard all the gushy stories and know how handsome he is, but seeing him in person is another matter entirely. As you look around the room, you can sense their anticipation and curiosity. Each member of your family has formed their own mental image of Sunghoon, based on your endless anecdotes and glowing descriptions.

The introduction feels like a moment of truth, but there’s a more pressing concern weighing on your mind. Among your family, it's your childhood best friend Jake who you're most worried about. He's always been incredibly protective of you, and he's never shy about expressing his opinions on your past relationships. 

Jake has a knack for spotting red flags, or at least fabricating them, and hasn't really liked any of your previous boyfriends. His sceptical nature and protective instinct have always made you slightly apprehensive about introducing new partners to him. 

It’s the main reason you have taken this long to allow Sunghoon to meet anyone. Jake’s opinion is so valuable to you but you really like your new boyfriend and hearing Jake’s disapproval will only deter your blossoming relationship. It’s been 4 months of sneaking around and telling your best friend lies just to be able to go on dates, and when he eventually found out you were bringing someone to the family dinner which was for your sibling’s graduation, safe to say he was shocked and unimpressed. 

Sunghoon stands by your side, exuding confidence and warmth. You can see your family's eyes widen as they take in his appearance, and his charm is evident even in the briefest of introductions. Your parents smile politely, and your siblings exchange curious glances because they secretly wonder where you found an adonis like him, but it's Jake's reaction that you’re most anxious about. He's standing off to the side, arms crossed, his expression inscrutable.

You can feel your pulse quicken as Jake steps forward. Sunghoon, ever the gentleman, extends a hand. "Nice to meet you, Jake. Y/N has told me a lot about you."

"Funny, she didn't mention you until two days ago," Jake snides back, making your shoulders tense.

There’s a brief, tense silence, and then Jake takes your boyfriend’s hand in his. Relief washes over you as you realise that this first hurdle has been crossed, and you can only hope that Sunghoon's genuine nature will win Jake over in time.

That hope is short-lived, however, when it comes to actually having the dinner. The tension is palpable, a simmering undercurrent that you can’t ignore. The first sign of trouble appears almost immediately. As you sit down, Jake reaches to pour you a glass of water, but Sunghoon beats him to it. They exchange tight smiles, the gesture seemingly innocent but loaded with unspoken rivalry.

Throughout the meal, their petty squabbles continue. When you ask for the salt, both Jake and Sunghoon reach for it at the same time. Their hands collide, and they both laugh, but it's a strained, competitive sound. Jake ends up passing you the salt, his eyes lingering on Sunghoon, a silent challenge in his gaze. You can sense Sunghoon picking up on the vibe that Jake doesn't like him, his smile becoming more forced with each passing minute.

Every small task becomes a battleground. Jake offers to pass the bread, but Sunghoon intercepts it. When you compliment Sunghoon’s story about his recent trip, Jake interrupts with a sarcastic comment, turning the conversation back to a shared childhood memory between you and him. It's as if they're vying for your attention and approval, each small victory feeling like a step towards winning a larger, unspoken war.

With both of them at your side, you can feel the apprehension drifting between them, a taut string ready to snap. Your family tries to carry on as usual, but their glances betray their awareness of the undercurrent. You laugh a little too loudly at your sister’s joke, trying to break the awkwardness, but it only makes the silence that follows more pronounced.

As the dinner progresses, the tension between Jake and Sunghoon shows no signs of abating. Sunghoon tries to engage with your family, but Jake's constant interruptions and snide remarks are making it difficult for everyone to relax. You feel the pressure mounting and try to keep the conversation light, but it's clear that the two most important men in your life are locked in a silent battle.

Then it happens. Jake places his hand on your thigh under the table. The touch is innocent but it only amplifies your exasperation. You've had enough. Standing abruptly, you drag Jake up with you, ignoring the curious stares from your family. "Excuse us for a moment," you mutter, leading him towards your childhood bedroom.

Once inside, you close the door behind you, whirling to face him. "What the hell, Jake?" you hiss, your voice low but heated. "Can't you, for once, just let me have a boyfriend without making it a competition?"

“I don’t like him,” he shrugs, acting nonchalant as if he hasn’t just ruined not only your night but your sibling’s graduation dinner. He’s acting selfish and he knows it, yet, he can’t stop himself. 

"What do you mean you don't like him?" you retort, frustration bubbling over. "He's done nothing but try to be polite and engage with everyone, including you!"

Jake remains silent for a moment, his jaw clenched. What you don’t know, despite the obviousness to everyone around you, is that Jake has been in love with you since your first year of high school. Every passing moment, he wishes you would see him as more than just your best friend and confess your feelings to him. He doesn’t want to be the one to do it in case he ruins everything you have; he would rather have you as a friend than nothing at all.

"He's not good enough for you," Jake finally says, his voice strained. "I don't trust him."

"You don't even know him!" you snap, exasperated. "You just don't want me to be happy with anyone else."

Jake crosses his arms, protecting his heart from his next question. "Why him?" he challenges, his tone equally fiery. "What makes him so special?"

"Because he's good to me, Jake!" you explode, pacing the room in frustration. "He's smart, he's kind, listens to me, and he fucks me good! What's not to want?"

Jake's eyes darken, his jaw tightening. For a moment, the air between you is thick with unspoken words. Then he steps closer, his voice a low growl. “And I’m not all those things? You think I couldn’t fuck you good?”

The bluntness of his words takes you aback. You stare at him, shock and confusion swirling in your mind. This was the last thing you expected to hear. Jake's confession hangs heavy in the air, the implications of it crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Jake moves closer, his presence overwhelming. “You think he’s the only one who can make you feel good? You have no idea what I could do to you.” His voice is low, filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. “All these years, I’ve watched you with these guys who don’t even know how to touch you. Do you have any idea how much it kills me to see you with them?”

Your heart races, the air between you charged with a tension that’s both terrifying and exhilarating. “Jake, this isn’t...”

He cuts you off, his voice rough. “You think he’s smart and kind? I’ve been there for you through everything. I know you better than anyone. And as for fucking you good?” He steps even closer, his breath hot against your skin. “I’d have you begging for more. I’d fuck you so good you’d forget anyone else ever touched you.”

The intensity in his eyes makes your knees weak. “Jake, you can’t just say these things...”

“Oh, I can and I will,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you against him. “I’ve been holding back for so long, but I can’t anymore. You need to know what you’ve been missing. I’d kiss every inch of you, make you scream my name until you can’t take it anymore.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, heat pooling in your core. You can feel his desire, his need for you, and it ignites something deep within you. “Jake...”

“You think he can make you happy? He doesn’t even know you like I do. He doesn’t know how to touch you, how to make you feel alive.” His hands roam over your body, teasing and possessive. “I’d take my time with you, show you what it means to really be wanted, to be loved. I’d make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

His words are a heady mix of promise and challenge, and you can’t help the desire that rises in response. “Jake, this is...”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

You tremble, torn between the intense connection you share with Jake and the forming adoration you have for Sunghoon. But in this moment, with Jake’s words wrapping around you, it’s impossible to deny the truth. “Jake, I...”

“Just admit it,” he whispers, his hands sliding to your back, caressing your skin. “Admit that you’ve thought about it. That you’ve thought about us.”

Your breath hitches as his hands move with confidence and familiarity, igniting a fire within you. “Jake, please...”

You can’t say no because you have, of course, you have. He is right about everything. He is smart and kind, and he does treat you well, better than any man ever could. But there is a line to be crossed between friendship, especially one as precious as yours.

Maybe that line is a little blurred at this moment.

“I’ll make you mine…and you’ll never want anyone else again,” he growls, his lips finally claiming yours in a searing kiss. 

Jake’s lips bruise against yours, the kiss intense and demanding. His hands roam over your body with a possessiveness that leaves you breathless. Without breaking the kiss, he manoeuvres you towards the bed, his grip firm yet gentle.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a low growl. He pushes you back onto the bed, his eyes dark with desire. Your heart races as he hovers over you, his gaze burning into yours.

“Jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and fear. “We shouldn’t…”

“We should,” he interrupts, his hands already hiking up your skirt. “I need to show you what you’ve been missing.”

His fingers glide up your thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He spreads your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as he settles between them. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamed about this,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “How many times I’ve imagined touching you, tasting you, making you drip just at my voice."

His fingers find your panties, pulling them aside. You gasp as his fingers brush against your wetness, teasing you. “You’re already so wet,” he murmurs, his tone laced with satisfaction. “You want this as much as I do, don’t you?”

He slips a finger inside you, and you arch your back, a moan escaping your lips. “Jake, oh my god…”

“That’s it,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “Let me hear you. I want to hear every sound you make., just for me.”

He adds another finger, thrusting them in and out with a rhythm that drives you wild. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. Your hands clutch the sheets, your body trembling with pleasure. “Jake, please…”

“Please what?” he asks, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper. “I need you.”

Jake's eyes darken with desire as he watches your every reaction, his fingers moving with expert precision inside you. He curls his fingers, hitting that sensitive spot that makes you see stars. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "Let me hear you."

Your hips buck against his hand, seeking more of his touch. His thumb continues its relentless circles on your clit, pressing down just enough to send jolts of pleasure through your body. "You're so tight," he groans, increasing the pace of his thrusts. "So perfect."

The heat between your legs intensifies, your wetness coating his fingers. "Jake, oh god," you moan, your head falling back against the pillows. "Don't stop."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I won't stop until you cum all over my fingers," he promises, his voice a seductive growl. He adds a third finger, stretching you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, your body teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

His movements become more urgent, his fingers plunging in and out of you with increasing speed. "Do you like that?" he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you like how I make you feel?"

"Yes," you gasp, your body arching off the bed. "I love it, Jake. Please, don't stop."

He shifts slightly, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, rubbing in tight, fast circles. "You're so close," he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire. "I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Cum for me. Cum on my hand like a good girl."

Your entire body tenses, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. "Jake," you cry out, your voice breaking. "I'm gonna..."

"Cum for me, baby," he demands, his fingers thrusting deep inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over. "Let go. Show me how good I make you feel."

His words send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls tighten around his fingers, your body convulsing with pleasure. "Fuck!��� Your hands gripping the sheets as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.

He doesn't slow down, his fingers working you through your climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Just like that."

As the intensity of your orgasm begins to subside, he finally slows his movements, his fingers gently slipping out of you. You lay there, panting, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. Jake brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. "You taste even better than I imagined," he says, his voice low and husky.

You reach for him, pulling him down into a deep, languid kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. "This is just the beginning," he whispers against your mouth, his hands caressing your sides. "I'm going to show you what it's like to be truly wanted. To be truly loved."

“Enjoying yourselves?” 

A voice from the doorway causes your heart to stop and blood to run cold. Sitting up, you see Sunghoon standing there with a smirk on his face, his eyes flicking between you and Jake. “I thought I’d find you here.” His gaze settles on Jake’s possessive grip and then on your flushed, dishevelled form.

“Sunghoon-”

“You like competitions, right, Jake?” your boyfriend interrupts you, not giving you the chance to explain. “Why don’t we see who can really fuck her good?” 

You physically gulp at the suggestion, knowing you're in for a long night, even with the entirety of your family downstairs...

______

perm taglist (idk if you guys want in on the drabbles but...): @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull

[wolfythewitch]

what reason would you give someone for them to convert to christianity? /gen i’m very curious to hear your answer as an atheist(?) going to a catholic school where every chapel boils down to ‘jesus can solve all your problems’. hope this isn’t taken in an offensive way, i’m genuinely curious what reasons people have!

See I don't really want to convert anyone to Christianity? Nor am I looking to. Need to make that clear before I continue.

A lot of people believe in a god because it offers to them a sense of comfort. Some people do it because they genuinely believe in a higher power. Religion is a very personal thing, you can't really boil it down one way or another. That's why any church who tries to tell you why to believe in God, well they might get some people but they won't get all. Believe in Jesus cannot solve all your problems. Or, well. I'm sure he can. But you will still hurt and life is a bitch. You can't reel people in with the promise of a perfect Christian life because then people will be sorely disappointed.

And. That's not even really getting into how corrupt a lot of the churches are out there. Unfortunately the problem with any organized religion is belief in a higher power can only go so far when any institution acting as its mouthpiece is human. The language of the gods tends to get a little mistranslated along the way. And then hypocrisy starts wading into the mix. And people like to use god to excuse their own actions.

And I mean I don't even really know why I'm religious. It could be many things. I've said before my relationship with faith is complicated. It could be guilt making me stay. It could be my parents converting me at a young age. It could be because I do believe there's a higher power out there. It could be because it's easier. Who knows? But my reasons will not be your reasons.

I'm not trying to dissuade you or anything haha but. Well. If you're ever thinking about converting, you can get a second opinion, join a community, go to Sunday church, but you can only ever really ask yourself why

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART I

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! this turned out pretty long so i will be splitting it into parts so it's easier. next part will be posted soon. i hope you all have as much fun reading this as i had writing it. enjoy!

part two

The breeze riffled through your hair as you drove, the sun warming your skin through the open windows. The Irish countryside stretching out before you, lush and green, with rolling hills and quaint villages dotting the landscape. The scent of wildflowers and the sound of nothing but the wind in the trees filled your senses.

It was rare, really. The silence, the feeling of complete freedom, and the solitude that enveloped you. A fleeting escape from the chaos of your everyday life.

The ping of your phone interrupted the peaceful moment. You tapped on the pop-up notification after briefly glancing at the directions to your destination. It was a message from Cillian. Well, two, actually. One was asking how far you were, and the other was a Spotify link followed by a question mark. Ever since he started hosting his bbc radio show, he's been sending you potential songs for his playlists to get your opinion. Not that he needs it anyway. But you always appreciate being included in his process.

Your lips curled into a smile as you clicked on the link. The familiar sound of The Blue Nile's "The Downtown Lights" flooded the car, instantly making you feel a wave of nostalgia. It's been ages since you've listened to that song. The synth-pop melody carries you up the pine-dotted path to where his house perches atop a hill, overlooking the crashing waves below. You've been here a couple of times, and yet it never gets less breathtaking. The Victorian architecture contrasting beautifully with the rugged coastline, creating a scene straight out of a painting.

The car glides right past the wrought iron gates, and you cut the engine in front of the stone steps leading up to the grand entrance. You shoot Cillian a quick text letting him know you're here, unbuckle your seat belt, and hop out of the car.

The June sun beats down on your skin instantly, heat radiating off the cobblestones as you open the backdoor to look through your bag for a hair tie. The smell of saltwater mingles with the sound of gulls overhead, sending you into sensory overload. "Gotcha," you mutter to yourself as you finally find the hair tie and pull your hair back into a loose bun.

"You drove here?" you hear him call out from behind you, his voice tinged with surprise. "And you're alone?" you turn around to see Cillian walking towards you, a curious expression on his face.

"I actually had to throw a tantrum to convince them to let me come alone," you reply with a chuckle, feeling a sense of pride at your small victory. "I was like, It's Ireland. What's the worst that could happen?"

Being who you are means being guarded against any potential danger or harm at all times, being driven to almost everywhere, and always having a security team around.

Cillian laughs, a sound that makes your heart flutter and makes you want to hear it again and again. "Well, I'm glad you made it here in one piece, love," he says with a grin. "You're not a very good driver."

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You did regret your decision to drive from the airport 10 minutes later when you realized you were on the wrong side of the road. But he didn't need to know that.

"I made it in one piece, didn't I?" you playfully retort, trying to salvage your wounded pride. Cillian chuckles and shakes his head with a twinkle in his eye. You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. He looks good, you thought. Unbelievably good. Well rested. His jet black hair was perfectly styled, even though you know he didn't put any effort into it—the slightest hint of silver at the temples, his sharp jawline, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. Though they looked a little tired, as if he had been through a lot since the last time you saw him.

You quickly avert your gaze, feeling a rush of heat on your cheeks.

"It's good to see you," you finally manage to say, trying to sound casual. Cillian's smile softens, and he replies, "It's good to see you too." He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. The soft fabric of his t-shirt brushes against your skin as you embrace him, and for a moment, everything feels right in the world.

"Come on, let's get inside," he says, leading you towards the house. Once inside, you make your way to the kitchen. The house was quiet; you wondered if anyone else was home. Cillian's family wasn't by any means loud or boisterous, but the silence felt heavier than usual.

"You hungry, love?" Cillian asks, opening the fridge, pulling out a white ceramic container, and setting it up on the kitchen island. You take a seat on one of the stools while he stands across from you.

"For something sweet?" you smile, seeing the container filled with what seems to be a piece of strawberry sponge cake. His mom must've made it. "Always," you reply. He hands you a spoon and takes one for himself, the two of you sharing the dessert in comfortable silence.

Until he broke it.

"How was Madrid?" he asks softly.

"It was good, great crowd," you reply, taking another bite of the dessert. "But tiring," you add, feeling the exhaustion of the long trip settling in.

"How many nights did you perform?"

"Four."

"Jesus, that's quite a lot, isn't it?"

Your eyes meet his; confusion clear in your expression. "You think that's a lot? Didn't you used to do four or five nights in a row of the same play?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "for months…?

"Yeah, but that was a different kind of exhaustion," he explains, taking another bite. "Performing the way you do in front of a live audience for three hours is a whole different ball game, love."

Love.

There it was again. That godforsaken term of endearment that he seemed to throw around so casually. It made your heart race every time he said it, even though you knew it probably meant nothing to him. But the way he looked at you now, with a hint of admiration in his eyes, made you wonder if maybe—

"Want the last bite?" he offered, taking you out of your thoughts. He pushed the container towards you, a small smile playing on his lips. His gaze was intense, as if silently urging you to take it.

"Oh, hello," a voice exclaimed from behind you, breaking the moment. You drop the spoon on the counter, a little startled. As if you were caught in the act of something forbidden. You turned around to see Yvonne, Cillian's wife. She said your name with a surprised tone, making you feel guilty for some reason. "I didn't know you were here," she continued, her eyes flickering between you and her husband.

You started to rise from your seat, confusion clouding your thoughts. That's weird. Cillian usually lets his wife know when you're visiting, but this time it seems like he didn't. She walked towards you, enveloping you in a hug. "When did you get here?" she said.

"Not long ago," you replied, relieved that she didn't seem upset. "I, uh, wanted to take a break and thought Ireland might be a good place to do that," you added, hoping to diffuse any tension that may have arisen. She nodded understandingly. "And you're staying here?"

"Oh, no, no," you quickly assured her. "I rented a place nearby, so you don't have to worry about me."

"Nonsense," Cillian interjected. "You can stay here. There's plenty of room."

"She's already paid for it, Cillian," Yvonne retorted, giving him a stern look.

Something was definitely off.

This was the last thing you wanted. You've specifically chosen the cottage for two reasons. First, to have space. The whole point of this trip was to finally have peace and write music. You've been stuck for months, not being able to find inspiration in your usual surroundings. Everything felt dull inside you all day—an emptiness that was smothering.

Second, you needed to stay the fuck away from Cillian. Being close to him was dangerous territory, one you didn't want to navigate right now. The plan was to come and visit and occasionally hang out and that's it. The thought of being in such close quarters with him was overwhelming. Staying here meant risking your heart and sanity.

You hesitated, also not wanting to intrude on their space, but Cillian insisted.

"Okay…How about if I stay for a couple of days and then move to the cottage?" you suggested, hoping to compromise. "Sounds perfect to me," he said.

This was going to be a long summer.

For the next few days, you dream too much, don't write enough, and try to find inspiration everywhere. As you settled into the routine of staying at Cillian's, you found yourself enjoying the peaceful surroundings and his company more than you expected. The days seemed to blend together, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen glances that left your heart racing.

But you also felt constantly distracted by his presence, making it difficult to focus on your writing or anything else, for that matter.

All you could think about was him.

The piano room surrounded you with its warm, inviting atmosphere, and you found yourself drawn to it more often than not. The big windows overlooking the garden let in streams of sunlight, casting a warm glow over the bookshelf. You felt the softness of the carpet as you sat on the grand piano bench, running your fingers along the keys absentmindedly.

You started humming a tune that had been stuck in your head for days, the words appearing softly and effortlessly as you played:

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

The humming went on whenever you didn't know what to say next, filling in the gaps between the notes on the piano and the lyrics:

A greater woman has faith

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I'm just a paperweight

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It'll be ok

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

The melody filled the room until you stopped abruptly, frustrated that the lyrics weren't coming as easily as before. You closed your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your mind. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath, elbows resting on the keys of the piano.

"You good?" Cillian's rough voice broke through your frustration, causing you to look up and offer a weak smile. You don't know how long he's been standing there or how much he heard of your struggles. "Just hitting a wall with this song," you admitted, running a hand through your hair.

"Ah, I see," he nodded sympathetically. He moved towards the records stacked on the shelf and pulled one out, placing it on the turntable. "I don't want to mess with your creative process or anything, but maybe a break with some music will help," he suggested.

Radiohead's "Fake Plastic Trees" began to play, taking over the room with its haunting melody.

"So you play one of the saddest songs ever?" you deadpanned, "Thanks."

He chuckled softly, "You were playing some pretty intense stuff; I figured it would fit right in."

Oh, so he did hear you.

"Ah, I know it's different from my usual stuff," you said quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about your music. "I might scrap that one. They might not be onboard with the change."

"And why's that?"

Thom Yorke's voice faded into the background as you contemplated his question, unsure of how to respond.

You shrugged, "I listen to sad music, not make it."

"I liked what I heard," he reassured you, "and change is good. It keeps things interesting."

His low voice was soothing, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with the idea of trying something new. Pop has been your comfort zone for so long, it's what stands out of you, but most importantly, it's what sells. At least, that's what's important to the industry. Maybe it was time to push yourself out of it.

"I guess you're right," you replied, a faint smile creeping onto your face.

"As always," he said, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. He stood leaning against the table where the record player sat, arms crossed, looking as if he had too many things to say and not enough words for them.

"Would this be a good time to ask you if everything's okay?" you inquired, noticing the weight of unspoken thoughts in his eyes. "With Yvonne, I mean," you added, nervous to bring up the topic.

That first day, when you arrived at the house, you could sense there was something going on between them. Something bad. The tension in the air was so obvious, but you didn't want to pry. However, as the days went by, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that she hadn't been around or the absence of a certain ring on his finger.

"And here, I thought you were never going to ask," he replied, his words laced with sarcasm.

"I was waiting for you to bring it up," your voice trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. "I-I didn't want to overstep."

He studied you for a moment, or at least, you assumed that was what he was doing. Finally, he averted his gaze and cleared his throat,"We've separated."

A cold feeling settled in your chest as you processed his words. The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly everything made sense. "Cillian," is all you managed to say, the concern evident in your voice.

He still wouldn't look at you. Knowing him, in moments like this, he wouldn't want to be coddled or pitied, so you save your apologies for later.

"What happened?"

He waved his hand dismissively, still avoiding your gaze. "Nothing, really," he said, his tone final. He didn't look upset, but rather resigned to the situation. "It hadn't been working for a long time; we both knew it was coming. I guess we were holding on for the boys more than anything." You could see the sadness in his eyes, despite his attempt to appear nonchalant. The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you feeling defeated and unsure of what to say next. You don't think there's anything you can say that will make this or him feel better.

And boy, did you wish you could take away his pain with just a few words.

Cillian walked slowly over the piano, stopping in front of it. He streched his arms over the wooden soundboard, gripping the edges tightly as if seeking some sort of solace in the instrument. He finally looked at you.

"Why didn't you say anything, Cill?" you asked softly, "I would've—"

"You would've what?" he interrupted, his voice strained with emotion. "I didn't want to worry you, you have more important things than my marital issues."

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it tore at your heart to see him suffering in silence. "You're my friend. These things are important to me, Cill," you said gently, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort. He flinched slightly at your touch, but then relaxed, leaning into your hand.

He didn't say anything, but you knew he appreciated your words. You could tell by the way his shoulders slumped in relief and the way his fingers loosened their grip on the edge of the piano.

One morning, you woke up to the wind gently rustling through the trees outside your windows. The morning light was clear and clean, leaking through the glass and falling against the walls of the room in soft patterns. It felt too early to be awake, too peaceful to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

You roll over to look at the little clock on the bedside table: 6:20 AM. It wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep, so you threw the covers and climbed out of bed, feeling the cool wood floor beneath your feet as you walked to the bathroom.

You splash cold water on your face and brush your teeth, trying to wake yourself up fully. Holding up your hair, you tie it into a ponytail while walking over the bedside table to grab your phone and airpods. You put one in your ear and hit shuffle on one of your morning playlists. You couldn't function without some music. "Keep On Loving You" by Cigarettes After Sex starts playing.

On your way to the kitchen, you walked by Cillian's room and noticed the door was slightly ajar. Who the hell sleeps with their door open? Psychos, probably. Curiosity getting the best of you, you peeked inside to see him sprawled out on his bed, body illuminated by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains—characteristic warm and cool shades revealing every hollow and speck of bare muscle. He slept with every limb stretched out, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. It was a rare sight, quite poetic.

He looked so peaceful, completely unaware of your presence. So you let your mind wander.

You imagined yourself crossing the room, pulling yourself on top of him. You imagined the way his bare body would look beneath you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his dark hair messy around his face, his skin warm against yours. His hands—rough and soft at the same time—running over your thigh, your breast, your neck. You could almost feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze as he looked up at you.

But then reality snapped back into focus.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. This was just a fantasy, a dangerous game to play with someone who was somewhat off-limits. But truth be told, the temptation was becoming harder to resist with each passing moment. It was all you could think about ever since he told you about his troubled marriage.

It took a long time for your heartbeat to slow. You headed to the kitchen to get some coffee, hoping that the caffeine would help clear your mind. As you rummage through the cabinets for a mug, his voice startles you from behind. "Need some help with that?" he asks, making you jump.

For a moment you thought you were still imagining things, but you turn around to see him standing there with a t-shirt on as opposed to five minutes ago. Great, him walking around shirtless in his kitchen, sleepy-eyed, messy hair, and rough morning voice would've been lethal.

"I've got it, thanks," you reply, shaking the mug slightly in your hand. You quickly pour yourself some coffee and try to focus on the task at hand: looking for the sugar.

"Sleep well?" he asks, voice still husky from sleep, his accent more prominent. He's rifling through the cabinet for a mug of his own. You can't help but notice the way his muscles flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches up. You hum in agreement, trying to hide your blush as you take a sip of your coffee. "You?"

"Grand," he replies, pouring himself a cup of coffee and leaning against the counter. You exchange small talk about the upcoming day, but your mind keeps drifting back to how good he looks in the morning light.

"Any plans for today other than locking yourself in the piano room?" he teases, and you shoot him a playful glare. "Maybe I'll actually venture outside for once," you quip, laughing.

"How does the beach sound like?" he asks, "The boys are coming over, and they're bringing some friends, and I thought a trip would be a nice change of scenery."

"I could use some sun," you admit, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Let's make it a beach day then," he suggests, setting his mug on the sink. "We leave at 10, piano woman."

"Ha ha, very funny," you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "But I'll hold you to it, annoying man," you reply.

"Annoying man?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I was your favorite person."

"Only on days that end in 'y'."

•••

"Are you done with your sad boy music?"

Cillian bursts out laughing, the sound taking you by surprise. He's been playing Radiohead on repeat for the whole car ride, and you were starting to feel like you were in a melancholy music video. "I like their music as much as the next person, but I think I need a break from the sadness," you say.

"Fine, fine," Cillian concedes, reaching for his phone to change the song. The bleak atmosphere in the car lifts as "Linger" by The Cranberries starts playing, filling the space with a more pleasant vibe. Cillian glances at you, he's wearing dark shades that hide his eyes, but you can still see his stoic expression softening as he catches you smiling at the change in music.

"Better?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Instead of answering, you start silently singing along to the lyrics, gesticulating dramatically for added effect. Cillian smiles at your antics, his own lips twitching in amusement as he watches you. The boys were so caught up in their conversation with their friends in the backseat that you were pretty sure they weren't even paying attention to the music or your impromptu performance. With a small smile on your face, you face out the window and enjoy the rest of the car ride in content silence.

When you arrive at your destination, all of you unbuckle your seat belts once Cillian puts the Bronco in park. You all pile out of the car, stretching your legs and taking in the sights around you. You close your eyes for a second and take a breath. The sea air—you loved that smell.

•••

A few hours later, after countless swims and some snacks, you find yourself lying on a beach towel, book in hand, feeling the warmth of the temperature on your skin. You're reading a book you picked up at an airport several months ago by Elin Hilderbrand, or the queen of beach reads, as many call her. You were completely engrossed in the story until you felt Cillian settling down next to you.

His hair was damp from the water, and his skin was slightly glistening. Gosh, he looked absolutely stunning. "Mind if I join you?" he asks.

"Not at all," you reply, closing the book and sitting up. "Having fun?"

"Lots," he says with a smile, reaching over to grab his sunglasses. The two of you sit in comfortable silence. The laughter and chatter of his sons and friends coming from the water redirects your attention back to the beach scene before you. You look back at Cillian, his eyes fixed on his sons.

"They love you, you know," you say softly, watching the genuine joy on his face as he watches his children.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right," he says, eyes still fixed on the boys. "I worry I might've fucked them up by letting my relationship with their mother fall apart."

He continues, "Sometimes I feel they resent me for it."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"I don't know, they just seem distant sometimes. Like they're holding back."

"Hey, that's normal for kids to have mixed feelings about their parents' separation. I was so happy when mine got divorced because it meant no more fighting, but it was also tough to adjust to the changes. It's very conflicting stuff," you say, huffing a small laugh. "Also, they're teenagers now, right? That's a tough age to navigate even without the added stress of divorce."

Cillian nods in agreement, exhaling out a yeah.

You squint against the sunlight beaming behind his head before continuing.

"You're a great dad, you always have been. Just show up and be there for them when they need you, even if they don't always seem to appreciate it. They'll remember it in the long run," you offer, remembering how much your own father's presence meant to you after your parents' divorce. "And I'm not a parent, but what parent feels like they're doing everything right all the time, anyway?"

Cillian turns to look at you. He studies your face for a moment before offering a small smile. "I guess you're right," he says sincerely.

"Fork found in kitchen," you retort, breaking the tension with a bit of humor.

He chuckles, "That's clever."

"Well," you continue, "I've been accused of many things over the years, but being unoriginal isn't one of them."

He laughs. Just like he did back in the car: a genuine, carefree laugh that makes you feel a little lighter.

"Want to go for one last swim, piano woman?"

You roll your eyes. "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Not likely," Cillian replies with a grin. "It's too fitting."

You stand up and stretch. You're wearing a one-piece teal-ish swimsuit that you swear you only chose based on comfort and not because it makes your ass and breasts look fantastic. Cillian's eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks away, and you swear you can see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He doesn't move.

"Are you coming or…?"

"Right, one last swim," he finally says, standing up and following you towards the water.

Maybe that one last swim wasn't a great idea after all.

And why is that?

Because not even five minutes into the water, you thought it would be a good idea to jump from a high rock, and now you're sitting in the car with your knee scrapped, throbbing in pain, and regretting your impulsive decision.

•••

"You're so fuckin' stubborn."

You try to move into a more comfortable position while ignoring the pain shooting up your leg by pressing a hand against one side of the door to keep yourself steady. "And you're so clearly overreacting."

Cillian pushes his bedroom door open. He's also clearly pissed. The ride back to the house was deathly silent. Well, not silent. His sad boy music made a return, and this time with Broken Social Scene. You couldn't ask him to change the music without starting another argument. Even the kids were quiet, beyond asking several times if you were okay, which you assured them you were. Obviously a lie.

As Cillian walks around the room, you reach for your midi white beachy dress and look down at your knee in horror. It's no longer just a bruise, but a gash that is slowly oozing blood. Not as much as before, but still. It looks nasty underneath the shirt Cillian used from his car as a makeshift bandage.

He grabs the first aid kit from a shelf and turns around to face you.

"Take off your dress."

"Pardon me?"

"Take off your dress so I can properly clean and bandage the wound," Cillian repeats, his expression serious. You look down at the blood-stained fabric as if you needed any more confirmation. "Off, C'mon."

You stiffen at his demand, your body going completely rigid at his bossy tone. You watch him stride into his bathroom. He pushes aside some stuff on the counter and tosses the kit onto the counter.

Okay, yeah. He has good reason to be upset. You had no business jumping from that rock.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he'd said before, right when he went to get you. And now you can see the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

You can hear him shuffle in the bathroom while you remove your dress. You still have your swimsuit on underneath, but you feel exposed without the extra layer. Maybe the pain is catching up to you or the fact that you have upset him or that he's waiting for you in the bathroom to take care of you but tears sting your eyes as you try to process the situation. You take a moment to collect yourself. You cannot go in there like this, he cannot see you this vulnerable. At least, not now.

He's braced against the counter, head hung low, when you push open the bathroom door. You nearly back out to give him some space or time to compose himself, but his eyes meet yours and his expression straightens. He clears his throat and then freezes. "I—you're wearing your swimsuit."

"I am. Were you expecting me to change into something else?"

"No," he grumbles, "I mean, nevermind."

He turns back and starts grabbing sterile gauze, his movements slightly jerky. He gestures for you to sit on the counter. "Up."

"I'm not sure I can do that given my—" Before you're done speaking, he scoops you up and sets you on the counter. Your hands are locked around his neck, and his are firmly gripping your waist. They fit perfectly there, like they're made to hold you close.

He reaches behind him, both your faces close together now, and grabs your wrists, pulling them away from his neck and onto your thighs. He puts a hand on your uninjured leg, his touch gentle yet firm. "This is going to hurt." You stare at his impossible blue eyes and think to yourself: yes, this is going to hurt.

"Oh, shit shit," you gasp, gripping his forearm. "Holy fuuuck."

"I've got you, breathe," he commands, and you allow yourself to focus on his voice, letting it ground you. The antiseptic burns both your nostrils and knee as he continues to clean the wound, the pain shooting through your leg causing you to clench your teeth.

"I'm sorry," you breathe out.

There's nothing but silence in response.

"I told you multiple times not to go up there," he finally says, his voice tinged with frustration. "And yet."

"I know," you whisper, feeling guilty.

"Don't do that again," he commands, his accent thickening with emotion. "You could've hurt yourself even more."

"I know," you repeat, not sure how else to respond.

His head is bowed in concentration as he finishes cleaning the wound, his hands steady despite the anger in his voice. You can see his dark eyelashes fluttering slightly as he works. He applies a little more pressure to the bandage than he should've, and you let out a soft moan. This doesn't go unnoticed by him.

The air in the room seems to shift. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something soften in his gaze before he looks away.

"You're not supposed to like that."

Your cheeks heat up immediately.

He's gotten closer to you, your hands somehow made their way to fist his navy blue linen shirt. His body is between your legs, the delicate material of his pants brushing your skin. His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't say I mind it either." Your heart races at his proximity, unsure of what to do next.

His hands slide up your thighs, gently caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He's going to kiss you, and you can't help but wonder if it's the right decision to let him.

But now is not the time to be rational about it.

"I'm not gonna stop you," you say quietly, "I wouldn't know how."

His eyes darken, pupils dilating with desire. He doesn't move.

It's like you're both aware of the line you're about to cross, so neither of you moves.

You keep your eyes firmly on his face. His lips inch closer to yours, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin. Your body is angled towards his, hand gripping the edge of the counter. Your slightly damp hair, now cold, making you shiver.

He's impossibly hard against you, the material of his pants is thin, and you're aware of every inch of him pressing against your throbbing core.

"And I wouldn’t know how to stop kissing you," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He shifts slightly, causing his erection to press even more firmly against you, both letting out a soft moan. His mouth hovers just inches from yours, just kiss me, you thought.

There's a knock on the bedroom door, which is, by the way, open.

"Dad?" You both freeze.

The bathroom door is slightly ajar, offering a sliver of privacy but not enough to shield you from any potential interruptions.

"Yes?" Cillian calls out, trying to sound casual despite the intense moment that was just interrupted. "We're ordering takeout, do you want anything?"

"No, buddy, we're good, thanks," Cillian replies, his voice strained as he tries to keep his composure. You hear the steps retreating down the hallway.

Cillian steps back, and the absence of his body against yours is jarring. It clearly would've been a mistake to take this further, but a mistake that would've felt so fucking good.

"We shouldn't do this."

He clears his throat. "Yeah."

He moves towards the door, his movements tense and purposeful. "I'm gonna—" he says, motioning the door.

"Yeah," you quickly reply, "I got it."

You watch him leave, the air heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires.

a/n: thank you for reading! please share your thoughts with me, let me know if you guys enjoyed it :)

part two

[snowave]

Okay, hear me out. Let me just type and post my thoughts about Zayne (which are probably thoughts that aren't just mine, but for other people, too) that kept on lingering in my mind.

In my opinion, being in a relationship with Zayne means a lot of subtle affections, and what other people label as the "bare minimum".

Opening the doors for you,

Head pats,

Accompanying you,

Giving you things that reminds you of him,

And many more.

Some people these days say that we shouldn't settle for less, that we shouldn't be "the bare minimum" enjoyers as what they really call it. I mean, I get it, we should go for someone who wouldn't give you less, but would give you more than you deserve. But for me, sometimes it's always the simplest and the littlest things that makes a relationship work.

Being in a relationship with Zayne would be filled with those simplest and littlest things that other people might brush off as mundane, or a part of daily life. But I think (probably just my mindset, or whatever), sometimes those things are usually neglected. That because they're part of our everyday lives, we don't do those things for others. But for some people (like me), they mean a lot, because it means that the person who does that to you pays you attention, is attentive to what you might need, and knows what to do around you. That is how Zayne is to MC in almost every universe that they're in.

In addition to the things I've mentioned, I think Zayne would make you feel very secure in your relationship. Sure, he might do those mundane tasks to others as well because he's a gentleman, but with you, he does it because he knows you all too well. He makes sure that everything is comfortable for you, that everything is working for you, that things won't be too complicated for you. That's how Zayne is. Also, I think Zayne is a very present partner in a relationship, despite of his busy schedule as a doctor. Even if it isn't a physical presence, I think he's the type to text you about his day, ask you about what you did, always curious about what you are doing, etc., that despite of everything, he will always and will find time to make his presence known into your days, especially those long, agonizing shifts of his, or some medical missions, and the like.

As for reassurances, this is just my opinion, but I think you won't need to ask Zayne for reassurances about your relationship, as I've mentioned, he will make you feel very secure about your relationship with him. Even if you don't ask or tell him something, he just knows. He will make you feel like you're the center of his universe or something like that. But of course, every one has their bad days as well, Zayne will probably reassure you in a way that you'll only realize how huge and deep this man loves you.

(I'm a huge simp for this man, Zayne Li, you'll always have my heart, really. Just my random thoughts, which are probably not that far from yours.)

[shalscumbunny]

The male members of the Gen'ei Ryodan and their S/O's breasts

TW: Female S/O, abuse, fondling, forced intercourse, forced touching, mild torture, pregnancy, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, sexist, misogynist, breastfeeding, yandere, kidnapping and minor injuries

Author's note: I am humanly incapable of writing about Bonolenov (I feel weird), an apology to the fans (if there are any)

Phinks:

Honestly, whenever I think of Phinks, I think of someone who is rough even if he doesn't mean to be, not as rough as Uvogin, but he tends to be a bit aggressive when he has you sitting on his lap facing forward. He knows you're blushing and he doesn't care to embarrass you further, even though he has that stoic expression you know he's enjoying it, you know he's enjoying hearing you whimper and moan as his big hands knead your breasts. After all you feel his hard erection press against you. I don't really think of him as a breast man though (I'm of the inclination that he's a thigh man), so after playing with you for a while he'll just put you on all fours and fuck you hard.

Uvogin:

I have mixed feelings here, just like Phinks, I don't feel like he's a breast man (I think he's a die-hard fan of asses). But unlike Phinks who just hangs around to get bored, Uvogin doesn't mind spending a long time kneading your poor, aching breasts with his huge, calloused hands. You feel his hard penis rub against your pussy as you cry, watching through your tears as he bites, sucks and pulls at your poor breasts. Your breasts will probably be covered in bruises, small wounds and injuries the next day, making him puff out his chest with pride.

Franklin:

Unlike the previous ones, I feel that despite that rough and corpulent build, Franklin is a soft man, he likes your breasts (And yes, I feel that he likes breasts 100%), regardless of their size or shape, they simply captivate him. He usually takes you gently while licking and sucking your breasts making you moan, he sniffs your essence carefully and usually guides you in the way he likes. A pleasure where the majority usually wins.

Feitan:

I'm not going to put it up for discussion, Feitan is a man who loves breasts (And for some reason I feel like he loves small breasts the most and don't ask me why). If Feitan isn't rubbing your breasts, sucking and biting your poor nipples, sadly it's something else. I feel like one way to represent his love and dominance over his S/O is torture. Feitan doesn't see his S/O as an equal, so he doesn't care about your opinion or consent. So sadly sometimes you're tied to a chair with little electric clamps stimulating your poor sore nipples while he forces you to suck his cock. You know he's turned on, his gaze isn't very expressive, but he has that sick sadistic smile on his face, his cock vibrating in your throat.

Nobunaga:

I don't feel like he's a die-hard fan of breasts (He's a thigh man), but he likes to make you feel good and mark you as his. Just like your thighs, neck and shoulders, your breasts are also decorated with little bruises. He's a big groper, he just can't get enough of you because he loves you so much, so sometimes he doesn't mind leaning you on a counter and groping your breasts while he bites your shoulder and his cock pushes hard against your pussy for several hours without rest, until he leaves you dumb, with your pussy and uterus full of his cum, your breasts swollen and overstimulated. He's a man who's a fan of new experiences, so he's willing to suggest (coerce) you to try to masturbate him with your breasts, growling as he feels your soft mounds embrace his hard cock and then grabbing your hair to make you suck his swollen tip.

Chrollo:

Chrollo is a curious being in every aspect and that includes the human body, especially YOUR body. I feel that even though it may not seem like it sometimes, he likes mysticism, when it comes to you, he believes in soulmates, he is a true believer that you and him are pieces of a puzzle. He loves you deliberately, he is obsessed with you and everything about you, he needs you, in every aspect. Even though I personally feel that his S/O's favorite body part is her thighs, he also loves breasts. He fucks you by making you sit on his fat cock, both of you sitting anywhere, be it the living room, the bathroom or the corner of the bed. His hot, cum-filled balls squished by your slippery slit. He is thrusting at a good pace inside you, deep and somewhat slow, looking to fill you strongly. He's pleased by your expressions and moans, he grunts when your rubbery walls squeeze his cock, he growls into your breasts and moans, after giving you a dirty kiss on the mouth he lowers his head until he latches onto your nipple, he sucks and sucks it like he's hungry while his arms wrap around your waist tightly. He pounds into you in a messier way while he licks and sucks your nopples, completely obsessed with those dirty faces you make. He doesn't plan on stopping, he's got a long way to go with you, he loves latching onto your nipple and being one with you. Obviously we know that his goal is to possess you and please you, and he's probably also trying to impregnate your sweet pussy with his child.

Hisoka:

He's a big fan of ass and I'm not willing to argue about it, but that doesn't stop him from suggesting (forcing) you to use flavored body lotions. He lets out that hungry giggle as he latches onto your bubble gum flavored nipples while his fingers with sharp nails move in your tight, wet pussy, obviously those sharp nails hurt and injure your poor pussy making it bleed slightly, but you're used to it by this point, so you just moan and gasp excitedly, tears rolling down your red cheeks. I'll add as an additional note that since Hisoka is a man with such eccentric tastes, he'll probably at some point force you to wear piercings on those cute nipples of yours, maybe pink ones or heart-shaped ones, or if he's really crazy probably one of your nipples will end with an "H" and the other with an "M"

Illumi:

We've talked about this before, a relationship with Illumi without children is impossible, no matter if you're infertile, in this fictional world of HxH, he's willing to find any way for you to get pregnant with his children. Illumi is the kind of man who won't let you leave his bed until a pregnancy test comes back positive, which he so desperately wants. Apart from the fact that even though he loves you and doesn't know how to show it, in this relationship you don't have the right to have an opinion, so you have to accept and adapt. It doesn't matter if you beg him on your knees that you don't want a baby, he doesn't care, he won't listen to you either, he is a true believer that you will become fond of the baby. Due to his upbringing, he has somewhat misogynistic and sexist tendencies, so, since you are his wife, your duty is to accept the children he wants to give you and obey him (The best thing for your mental health is to do so). He's not very good at expressing that he wants it, you've rarely seen him with more than one expression, so learning to decipher it will take you a GOOD time. Only his face usually changes a couple of times and one of those times is when he's fucking you, his face looks slightly more relaxed and even if he tries, the pleasure is something difficult to hide even for a cold-blooded killer like him. Even though sex is very mechanical with him, it's not bad, he gives it to you hard, strong and moderately fast while sucking your breasts occasionally, he will NEVER admit it to anyone, but they are a part of your body that usually generates attraction and curiosity in him. But once he left you round and swollen with his child, now your breasts are a part of your body that obsesses him. He just feels his cock harden when he notices how they grow day by day, preparing to nourish his future child. Of course Illumi doesn't stop fucking you when you're pregnant, on the contrary, he fucks you more, because he simply gets excited seeing you pregnant and swollen with his baby. He spends so much time sucking on your breasts during sex that your milk production gets too early, that only makes him obsessed with your breasts even more. Now he fucks you hard, rubbing the baby inside you with the palm of his cold hand while he fills his mouth with your sweet milk, panting and grunting on your swollen nipple, at the same time, your other nipple drips small jets of milk onto the bed. When you give birth he gives you privacy with the baby when nursing, although it's funny because the baby looks like its father, hugging your breast and latching onto your nipple trying to swallow as much milk as possible. Years later and after 4 babies, it's really comforting and strange for you that Illumi doesn't change, he's not very expressive or affectionate, but he likes to be with you, he doesn't feel disgusted by the after-effects of pregnancies on your body, on the contrary, he tends to be attracted to them He rarely smiles except when you greet him after a long day of murders, with two children hidden behind your skirt, another in a sling on your back, another in your arms sucking milk from your nipple and well, another on the way developing in your swollen belly. When Illumi calls the nannies to take the children away and leave you alone, he really just wants to latch onto your generous milk-filled breasts and fuck your pregnant pussy.

Shalnark: (Everything I say about Shalnark is 100% canon and I don't allow anyone to question it). Shalnark LOVES, NEEDS and ADORES your breasts. He loves them for everything, he uses them as a pillow when he's sleepy or wants you to cuddle him, he loves to cuddle and warm up there, he has a smile on his face whenever he's there, you really think he's just missing starting to purr while rubbing his head there and hugging your waist. He's an addict and he doesn't even think about asking you for permission to touch them, for Shalnark they're his, they belong to him, he enjoys buying you only low-cut clothes to look at them all the time and have easy access to them. He doesn't even need to have his cock buried in your pussy to start sucking on your breasts, it can just be at any time, sometimes you're relaxing in bed reading a book and he'll come over, open your shirt and start sucking and licking them with his eyes closed while hugging your waist. Other times he will call you while he is working on his computer, ask you to sit on his lap and continue working while his cock is buried in your pussy and his mouth is sucking on your nipple. Obviously above all, he loves sucking your breasts while he fucks you on the bed, pushing his hips against yours while the tip of his penis hits your cervix hard. His mouth licking, biting and sucking all over your breast, leaving it with marks, bruises, bites and saliva. I mentioned before in this profile that Shalnark does not like the idea of ​​having children, he really does not want any, but he would probably have something similar to what Illumi did with your breasts if he were to get you pregnant and agreed to allow you to continue with the pregnancy. But on the other hand, you would end up producing milk whether you were pregnant or not, since the stimulation is so great that your breasts begin to fill with milk and of course Shalnark will not allow a single drop to go to waste.

Thank you very much for reading me, if you want a version with the female members of the Gen'ei Ryodan let me know 🖤

[oepionie]

—VOICELINES ABOUT YOU. various

Synopsis: Yuuken interrogates some of the boys on the campus about their special someone. Hearing their loving ramblings on you was certainly not what he expected.

Tags: Self-Indulgent, Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard, Reader is not Yuu, Tweels are a bit...too mad in love, I brainrotted so hard, You're Malleus' fiancee, Malleus doesn't know how to tell a joke someone help him

Cw. Riddle's Mother, Overworking, Hospitalizations, Poor living conditions, Illness, Bullying, Allusions to violence, Marriage, Tad bit of possesive behavior, Description of stabbing

WordCount: 2k+ | 💌Masterlist

R.R | RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

About: Riddle's Rose

"Rose? I see you've met that troublesome intern at the library. That's a nickname. Their name is (Y/N) and yes, they are my partner." "A-Ah? I'm so direct? Well, you asked me a question! Though...I would prefer that this discussion end here. I prefer to keep my relationship with them private.”

Chat: Childhood Memories

“Ever since we were young, (Y/N) was quite rebellious. The complete opposite of me as a child, really. They were always sneaking off during the night and coming over to visit me. Mother...didn't approve of them and often screamed in their face. I was quite terrified she would scare them away, though that didn't stop them at all. Haha, I think they got even more persistent afterwards. I am truly glad I met them.”

Personal Story: To the Hospital

“Again...? I see. Thank you, Trey. Hmph, I'll have to schedule another visit once more."

> "Riddle? What's wrong?"

"Ah, Yuuken—It's Rose. They've gotten admitted to the hospital...again. (Y/N) is quite impulsive and tends to bite off more than they can chew. On more than occasion, like now, I would find out about their hospital admissions via Trey days or even weeks after."

>"Aren't you dating? Why aren't they telling you?"

"They claim that they withhold the information from me out of concern for my workload or out of fear of being a burden. Though that is—a sentiment I don't understand. Nothing is more important to me than their health."

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R.B | RUGGIE BUCCHI

About: The Photo In His Wallet

"Where is it?! Man, I'm so fucked if I lost it—Oh?! Oi, Yuuken! That wallet's mine! Man, thanks a lot. I really would've been screwed over if it weren't for you." "Eh? The photo? Shishishishi curious, aren't cha? Hmmm...how 'bout this? You get me a steaming hot meat bun and I'll give you a story time about them."

Chat: A Hopeful Future

"My studies? Course I take them seriously! That's what's gonna' put food on the table one day. Plus, I wanna' give (Y/N) the life they deserve—What'd I mean? Well, if I'm going to be their husband, I want 'em to live comfortably. It's not like we need anythin' luxurious, anyways. As long as we're together and there's enough food to go by, it's going to be all right."

Personal Story: In Sickness and In Health

"....that's good to hear. Please look after 'em, granny. Love ya." The call ends and Ruggie sighs. "That's the best news I've received since."

>"News?"

"Guh-?! Man! What's with you and sneaking up on me!? Yeah yeah—you heard right...news. Granny just called me to talk about (Y/N), their health is looking up. Tell ya' what, I knew that deal with Azul was worth it. I managed to snag some medicine and send it home."

>"Oh? Medicine?"

"Yeah. Ever since my first year of high school, they were sick and bedridden. (Y/N)'s parents don't have enough money for a doctor, so there's not much they can do. Of course, I'm out here doin' my best to help too."

"I really...I really wanna see them up and runnin' again. Hey, who knows—maybe we'll get to make flower crowns for the village kids again...together."

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A.A | AZUL ASHENGROTTO

About: An Interrogation

"Yuuken, you’ve met (Y/N), I hear. Well, as their partner, it's only right that I ask you about it. I assume you don't mind. So, what is your opinion of them? Nothing short of perfection, I hope."

"Hm? You think they're nice? Good then."

Chat: Busy Octoboss

"With all the deals, my maintenance of my academic ranking, and my position as Monstro Lounge's manager, my workload is quite substantial compared to most. And, I regret to say that it does get in the way of my personal life, including quality time with my lover. It tears at my heart, yet I cherish how they're so understanding and patient. Still, sometimes I can't help but think I am undeserving of them..."

Personal Story: Deep Sea Bonds

"My childhood is not something that I appreciate or want to remember. Yet, despite everything I've been through, I do think it is pleasant to look back on the days when I met them. You see, (Y/N) was bullied too. They were just like me, relentlessly bad mouthed and hurt by the kids around us. However, they never failed to greet me every day with a bright smile on their face."

>"What a sunny person."

"They'd also always have the courage and bravery to stand up for me, often taking the brunt of the bullying. I wish I could say I did the same for them...but I was far too cowardly back then..."

>"Wow. You two must be really close, then."

"Of course. They've been through a lot.Which is exactly why I won't allow anyone to speak ill of them anymore." Azul pauses, smiling slyly. "Say, Yuuken. You'll tell me if anyone casts aspersions on my Angelfish, won't you?"

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J.L | JADE LEECH

About: A Helping Hand

"Hm? What's that? Ah, you’ve met my darling pearl. I see. I do notice how you’ve been frequenting Monstro Lounge lately…Have you perhaps acquired a romantic interest towards them? No? Hehe, Alright." "Now, to answer your question, yes, that is right; (Y/N) routinely comes over to visit and aid me in my Mountain Treks. I couldn't be more grateful for their assistance."

Chat: The Pearl Ring

"Oya? I see you're curious about the ring I've been crafting. Well, it's for (Y/N). You see, in merfolk culture, we create handcrafted jewelry to serve as a courting gift. This is one of many ornaments I plan on giving them. Though, this one is...particularly unique. Ah, well...(Y/N) Leech does have a nice ring to it, does it not?"

Personal Story: A Jaded Reaction

"Oya? (Y/N) is spending the night at Ramshackle? Whatever reason for?"

>"Grim wanted to have a game night."

"Ah. I see. How...lovely. What's that? My smile is frightening you? Oho, now is it? Hehe, my deepest apologies. We eels tend to be quite...protective. I so anticipate you to take good care of them. And fret not, as long as you keep them away from any harm, no disputes shall arise."

>"Uh...and if something happened?"

"What if something happened...? Well, I'm sure you wouldn't mind being hunted down the face of the earth, tied up, and pulled down to the deepest pits of the blue ocean, where no one can hear your anguished cries for help...Would you?" 

>"..."

"Just joking. I would never do that."

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F.L | FLOYD LEECH

About: A Sea Walnut

"(Y/N)? Aha~~~ You've heard of my little sea walnut? They're so adorable and squishy, yanno!—Is there a problem? If you got a problem with 'em, I'll squeeze you." "Oh? Not scared at all, huh? Ehe~ You sure are ballsy. Tread carefully now, shrimpy~!"

About: Ocean Currents

"Whenever a strong ocean current comes, sea walnut always huddles close to me and grabs my arm. They've always been afraid of being blasted away."

"They used to do that a lot when we were kids, but it never gets old. Hehe~ Sometimes, I lead them to places where the waves are strong, jus' so they can cling onto me! It's so funny to see 'em get afraid and scramble after me when I move too far away. "

Personal Story: Shark Attack

"Hmm~? Oh, what're these bite marks? Rad, aren't they? I got them after fighting a buncha' sharks."

>"Sharks?! Why would you do that?"

"To get these. It's shark teeth. Our anniversary is comin' up, and Jade suggested that I should make some jewelry for them. It's a merfolk courting thing. Azul 'n Jade told me to get them pearls, but I thought that was boring. So, I'm making one with shark teeth instead! Isn't that cool~?"

>"I-I guess, but what happened to the sharks?"

"Ugh. None of them were a fun hunt. The entire hoard swam away so fast. Can you believe it???… I’m not the typa eel who would let my prey get away that easily, though. And it’s not like I had anything better to do. Ehehe! There were so many of those sharks swarming around, but I managed to squeeze them all! Well, it was worth it in the end cuz I got what I wanted. I'll do anythin' for my little sea walnut~"

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J.V | JAMIL VIPER

About: A Hearty Meal

“What am i doing? Well, I'm making some Roast Chicken with Sumac Flatbread. Oh? Who's (Y/N)? Ah, Kalim must have told you, huh. (Y/N) is my partner. They are truly wonderful."

"For example—Though I like to think I'm skilled at disguising my true feelings, the moment I go to see them, they already know what I'm thinking. They have a keen sense of intuition and always seem to know what I need and when I need it. Truly, I'm grateful for such a caring—Ah, I'm sorry. I was rambling again."

Chat: Snake-Eyed Envy

"I can't dispute that a lot of people back home are vying for their affection.That bothers me at times. As Kalim's babysitter-ehem, retainer, I don't have enough time to check in on them every day...However, as cheesy as it sounds, I have yet to meet someone who is as smitten with (Y/N) as I am."

Personal Story: World Left Unsaid

"I soon understood that I was more than the circumstances of my birth, all thanks to (Y/N). In fact, My bond with Kalim has become stronger and more genuine thanks to them. I...realized my hatred for Kalim was just my desire for my circumstances to be different...I didn't hate him at all. Without (Y/N), I would never have understood it."

>"They must be very important to you, Jamil."

"Absolutely. I was terrified that I might lose them after my overblot. But to my surprise, they stayed with me. Naturally, it hurt them, but they were really compassionate towards me and about how much I had to go through."

>"Do they know of what you feel?"

"I...I don't think (Y/N) realizes just how much I cherish them. I don't think now's the right time for that though. I've hurt them too much and I still have a long way to go before I fix things."

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M.D | MALLEUS DRACONIA

About: He's Engaged?!

"I am, indeed, betrothed. Heh. Why are you looking so bewildered, Child of Man? If I'm going to be a king someday, it only makes sense that I would need someone to reign alongside me, no? At first glance, (Y/N) may seem aloof, but as you get to know them more, you'll see that they are actually incredibly lovely and warm."

"You never thought I was one for romance? My, my... What a bold statement, you best learn how to hold your tongue. Have you considered that I could use lightning to smite you where you stand?...Now, now—That was a joke. You don't have to cower in fear."

Chat: Safe And Sound

"My precious treasure tells me that I tend to get protective at times. Though can you really fault a lover for wanting to protect the one who is most important to them in this cruel, ruthless world. One where others will not hesitate to turn on you?"

Personal Story: The Art Of War

"I am actually the first of my lineage to wed someone who is not a noble. You see, (Y/N) is a knight-in-training. And, as you can probably guess, they served as my retainer. To see them at work was truly a magnificent sight to witness. They command attention and radiate strength. While I had always admired them, I could not bring myself to express my true feelings to them. Until...that night."

>"That night?"

"Yes. On the evening of Silver's 16th birthday, someone had rushed at me with a dagger in hand. (Y/N) was the first to respond and took the hit for me...The sound of their screams as the knife tore through their flesh was truly...horrifying."

>"That's horrible! What happened to the guy?"

"Worry not, he was taken care of accordingly....If there is anything I’ve learned from Lilia's many teachings, it’s that the worst calamities that befall an army arise from hesitation. To avoid further offensives, one must deal with and eliminate adversaries as soon as possible. Don't you think so?"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and are very motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @chuuchuudreams @taruruchi

↳ want to be added?

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Ok, I have two alternatives, pick which one you like the best.

Reader get picked to tutor Eddie even though they have always been at each other's throat, she thinking he's a drama queen, pissed that the popular people doesn't like him and he thinks she's a stuck up bitch without humor.

So they go back and forth but maybe one day when she's having a bad day and Eddie says something and she starts crying he gets all "what, how, why? What did I do, please don't cry!"

Or, that he catches her reading a romance novel and outwardly she has always just read classics - books that are 'high education'

Request by @somethingvicked 🫶💞 went with the first option 💞

Warnings; Little bit of angst, meanish Eddie, fluff. Accidental kiss.

💌🎀💌🎀

"You've got to be kidding me?" you gawk at Miss O'Donnell who has called you back at the end of class. She's asked you to tutor someone and at first you were all for it.

That's until you found out it was Eddie Munson, Munson who is currently sitting at the back of the class with his feet up on the desk in front of him, he gives you a sarcastic little wave and you turn back to Miss O'Donnell and hope she comes to her senses.

"He needs a tutor if he wants to graduate. You're the best student in the class. It will look wonderful on your college applications that you tutored Mr Munson" shit there was really no getting out of this.

Reluctantly you turn to Eddie who already doesn't like you. In his honest opinion you seemed prissy and stuck up. The two of you spent half your time at each other's throats, it had been like that for so long.

Equally you couldn't stand Eddie either. He was loud, a show off and you were sure he was jealous of the popular people he claimed to hate.

How you would manage to tutor him for weeks on end was anyone's guess. One thing's for sure, you were dreading this.

"Meet me after school tomorrow and we can get started okay?" You say to him already grumpy at having to spend extra time with him. Eddie swings his legs off the desk and smirks, then bows.

"As you wish princess" ugh, you storm out but not before hearing Eddie's laughter.

Asshole.

🎀💌🎀💌

The first week of tutoring Eddie is as horrible as you expected. He's antagonistic, makes no effort and needles at your patience until it's paper thin.

"How can you be expected to graduate if you don't make an effort?" You snap as Eddie strums on his guitar.

"That old bat has it in for me, even when I try my best she still doesn't care" Eddie hisses back and you feel the beginnings of a headache come on.

"You just need to apply yourself better, if you want to graduate then you need to ace this Munson" he glares at you.

"Don't you think I know that? It's easy for you though isn't it princess, since your little miss perfect" the insult flares up your annoyance and you and Eddie devolve into your usual arguments.

"Don't you think I have better things to do then tutor you Munson? So do us both a favour and start paying attention, so we can go our separate ways sooner".

He huffs and places down his guitar with gentle care, grabs his notebook and

"Did you draw these?" you ask curious as you trace your fingers over the images on his notebook. He nods and looks at you like he's expecting you to give him shit.

"They are really good Munson, you could think about applying to an art course after graduation" Eddie scoffs and takes his notebook back.

"Yeah like anyone's going to take me with my grades" his tone is all annoyance and it pisses you off.

"I was only trying to compliment you, why do you have to be so touchy all the time" you look away from him stubbornly, he is silent for a few seconds and when he speaks again his voice is soft.

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to a lot of compliments from people" this softens you as well and you turn to face him and give him a small smile.

"Well you're really good" there's a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks when you say this. He nods and settles back down beside you.

"You know uh, you're pretty good with the whole writing thing, uh shit, you know what I mean" pleased and a little flustered at his compliment you clear your throat and mutter thank you, then get started with the book you and Eddie are reading for class.

🎀💌🎀💌

Today has been the worst day. You overslept, forgot to hand your essay in to your biology teacher, the rain soaked you completely as soon as you left your home and you've been verging on a cold ever since.

So the thought of having to tutor Munson again does not fill you with joy, in all honesty all you want is your bed and to sleep. You couldn't get sick, you had too much to do.

Of course from the moment you meet up with Eddie he's difficult. All because it's Friday and he has a Hellfire meeting.

"I have to set everything up princess, I don't have time to waste here with you" furious you round on him.

"You think that I want to be here? No. I'd rather be at home so sit down and let's get on with this so I don't have to sit with your annoying ass any longer than I have to"

"Well at least I'm not a stuck up bitch with no sense of humour and a permanent stick up my ass"

Eddie's words cut to the bone and you stiffen in response. Don't cry, don't cry you chant to yourself, but you can't help as the tears roll down your cheeks, Eddie's big brown eyes widen in shock as you begin to cry.

Humiliated, you're just about to leave when he steps in front of you. "Wait, what did I do?" The two of you exchanged insults on a daily basis and you had never cried before, Eddie begins to panic as your sobs continue.

"Please don't cry" he says, he hates seeing you cry. Your little whimper stabs at his aching heart and on instinct he reaches over to you and takes your hand, the gesture surprises you both and it dries up your tears.

"I'm sorry, I don't like seeing you cry, please stop" you sniff and wipe the remainder of the tears away, Eddie's hand is still holding yours and it's making you feel things that you never expected.

Eddie gently strokes your hand with his thumb, marvels at the soft skin and how your hand fits perfectly in his own.

Uh, shit. This was new. You smile at him, suddenly seeming shy. His heart skips a beat. Jesus h Christ.

"I didn't mean it" he stumbles over his words and you sigh sadly, peer at him with an expression that tugs at his heart.

"Yes you did" he shakes his head fervently and assured you that he didn't.

"I just snapped back without thinking, I'm sorry" he pleads with you and you hear the sincerity in his voice and calm down a bit.

"I'm sorry too. Today has been so shit, I'm tired and I feel like crap. I just want to sleep" Eddie immediately grabs his notebook and pencil and sits down, he looks to you patiently.

"Let's do half an hour and I'll cram as much as I can in my brain and then I'm going to drive you home okay?" relived you nod but still feel worried.

"Miss O'Donnell won't be happy" you tell him and he shrugs as if he doesn't care one bit.

"Leave the old dragon to me okay princess?" touched at his sweetness you take his hand and squeeze it as a thank you. Surprisingly the half hour passes by cordially and Eddie is still sweet.

Before you know it the half hour has ended and Eddie is true to his word and drives you home. You don't feel much better and your stomach is fluttering like crazy being so close to Eddie.

What the hell was happening? Was this some side effect of the flu? Eddie's big brown eyes meet yours, "Thanks for driving me home Eddie"

He shrugs like it's no big deal and on impulse you reach over to kiss his cheek. The only thing is he moves so you miss completely and end up pressing your lips against his.

His eyes widen and you pull away embarrassed, your heart is racing and your lips are tingling from the kiss. You stammer out an apology but Eddie waves it off, you race out the door and into your house.

All the while Eddie is touching his lips, his own heart is racing a mile a minute and all he can think about is that he really wants to kiss you again.

💌🎀💌🎀

[historicity-was-already-taken]

So, I saw you mention from the river to the sea being antisemitic. I’ve heard various people claim it had antisemitic origins but was never able to find reliable corroborating messages and was curious if u could elaborate on that more, if that’s why. The other argument I’ve heard is it being coded for “free from the jews” which. Yk. I definitely know there are some people who say it with that intent. But I am skeptical of insisting that implication is Always present to people who have found it a useful slogan to rally around on this issue without evidence backing up that intent in the original popularization of the slogan or that it has been widespread deliberately used with that meaning for a long time. Given your whole historian business I don’t doubt that you DO have solid reason for saying it’s antisemitic, I’d just love to hear the details.

I'm going to copy and paste what I wrote about this in an earlier post, because that's still my response:

"That phrase contains strongly genocidal undertones with regard to the Jewish population of Israel who were forced to settle there after being ethnically cleansed from their homes across Eurasia and North Africa over the course of the 20th century (many of whom were and continue to be treated like shit by that country's government and don't get me started on the Yishuv's treatment of Holocaust survivors).

More than half of the Jewish population of the world lives in Israel. As an American Jew and a Holocaust historian keenly aware of the circumstances regarding the postwar Jewish peopling of the modern State, I am deeply uncomfortable with seeing that phrase in my intellectual space. Free Palestine, yes; work towards equal rights for Arab and Palestinian citizens of Israel, yes; engage in active reparations for Palestinians who had their property actively stolen from them in 1948, yes; Truth and Reconciliation Commissions, yes; but not on the bodies of half of the 15 million Jews who remain on this planet."

There is no Collective Jewish Take on this, because Jews are not a hivemind. But it is my take, as a Jew, and as a Holocaust historian.

Jews across any political spectrum will be extremely sensitive to ANY language which reads to us incitement to ethnic cleansing, because we've been ethnically cleansed from all regions of Eurasia over the course of our ~3000 year history. A lot of Palestine activists don't want to engage with that and really resent being told that they need to. And like, I get it; I get their frustration, resentment, rage, and righteous indignation. But the Jewish pasts, and Jewish knowledge of our tenuous ongoing existence on this planet; those aren't going to go away just because it complicates rhetoric on the Israel/Palestinian Conflict.

People can keep using "from the river to the sea." You can keep using it. I'm not the Language Police. Some Jews here and elsewhere may feel comfortable using it and being in spaces where it's used. I'm not going to shit on those Jews or call them "Kapos" or "Self-hating" or "pick-mes." But I'm also not going to change my opinion or my analysis, or ever be comfortable with its use in my intellectual space.

[thatfrailsoul]

– The look in your eyes, got me hypnotized

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

pictures from pinterest → one, two, three

There are people that just have something about them... Something that makes you unable to resist the urge to follow them, to get closer... Just to feel their energy around you. Just to receive their attention, feel their gaze on you. There is just something so magnetic about those that inevitably call you. A bait that leads you again and again into the trap of someone so intoxicatingly loving, so painful in the way they grasp your heart. There are many moments in our life when we are captured, hypnotized, by someone. A dangerous love, a painful friendship, a delusional connection, a misleading admiration... But how can we ever be able to resist them, protecting our soul from the ones that try to steal it, make it theirs to play with and enjoy?

This is our first pick a pile reading from the Divination Jukebox - I'm so happy that so many of you liked this idea! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )づ♡

Apart from being obviously inspired by the story that this song narrates - "Hypnotized" by Funk Tribu and Part Time Killer - this reading was also guided by my cards, that showed me the point of view from which we should listen to this song, the way it wants us to feel, what it wants us to understand right now, what that part of our subconscious that resonates with it wants us to realize...

P.s. If you would like to see a reading inspired by your suggested song, you can learn more about how to participate here ↓

♪♡♪ Divination Jukebox ♪♡♪

Slow down for a moment. Give your conscious mind a moment of rest, allow it to step back. And listen to your subconscious instead, to that inner voice, to the intuition that is guiding you to the pile in which your message hides.

( You can scroll right down to your pile, but if you have a moment to spare - there is something that I would love to hear your opinion about.♡ )

In my each reading, I dive as deeper as I can into the topic or situation that we are looking at. I call for the most needed information for you, the guidance that is the most important for you to receive now... But as useful and right, I sometimes feel a sour taste after a reading. Simply because I understand too well that so often there is much much more that we personally might want to know, more details that we want to hear, more things that we want to be aware of... For this reason, and also to give myself a little more help financially, I was considering on doing extended versions of our pick a pile readings. An addition to each pile of a reading that we do, through which we will be able to have even more details about the situation. So we have not only the message that we need, but also the answers to the questions that we are most curious about.

{ Thank you for letting me know!♡ }

_

– Pile one,

the seven of cups, the death, the five of cups

To be seen, to be noticed amidst all the other ones... To be hold onto so tightly... To be chosen so fiercely and passionately again and again... There is nothing wrong about it. There is nothing wrong or entitled in just wanting to feel so needed and desired. So important and necessary for someone just for once... But when the part of us that desires it so much, finds it so romantic and loving, is the one that has so many wounds, that bleeds still because of all the times it was left behind or put aside... It is no longer just a desire. With each moment and connection that it passes without it, it transforms it into a weapon against us. And worst of all, a weapon that we don't realize to be the ones to hold.

Because for our honest, most genuine and softest heart, to be chosen is to be loved, to be enough, to be that all that someone needs or might want. It doesn't consider being a part of a plan, a part of a temporary satisfaction. It doesn't imagine that others might choose us, but only for a moment that will soon pass. We don't think so superficially, we don't focus only on the now, even if it is all that we hoped for... Our mind and heart rushes, moves forward in time, in our dreams and expectations for a fairytale like story that we think just began. We imagine and start to wait for more moments to create with them, and even difficulties that would be so easy to overcome now that there is someone by our side. We still feel that fear, still overthink and expect the worse. But we also fight every doubt and negative thought with the reminders of their gentleness and comprehension. We soothe ourselves with their loving ways, with the conviction that nothing can really tear us apart. Not when they were the ones to choose us, to come closer to us. Not when they were the ones to take care of us and promise us so much.

So when times change, when the first challenge arrives... we are armed with that sureness that everything will be alright that we created in our heart. Even if it is not just external interference. Even if it comes from them, from their suddenly confusing and so different ways. We still endure it and wait for the best, thanks to that enthusiasm and sureness that just being noticed and chosen created in ourselves. And it becomes only stronger when things do work out. When that person, after making a "mistake", taking some time or hurting us for the first time, comes indeed back and speaks so wholeheartedly about how they understood what they've done and how they will never allow it to happen again... It just makes our conviction stronger, our heart and mind even more infatuated with this perfect story of redemption in the name of love. In our name...

And then it happens again. And again, and again, and again. But we endure it, we are patient, we are understanding, we are hopeful of the fact that everything will be alright. And we fail to see the pattern. The way it happens so similarly every time. The mistake. The hurt. The regret. The forgiveness. And back from the start. Every single time, one after another, a well done play that for so long we consider being something normal... Just because we were convinced of it through the sweet and loving words.

We allow it to happen, without even knowing that we are the ones to allow it. Without understanding that this is indeed not normal. That this, in the first place, is not even what we were looking for when desiring to be chosen. And it just becomes a neverending cycle. With the same person or with the others. In the same exact way, or worse, in newer and ever changing ones. We never have a break. We never feel truly safe and chosen over other people or things. But we just become someone who is so convenient for when things get boring. So easy to maintain with just a few tender words and gentle ways.

And when it is described this way... It seems so obvious how it is wrong and dangerous, and how easy it is to recognise it and to avoid... But it is more tricky than it looks. It is much more difficult to recognise the danger, something that is wrong, when not only it is all that you've known for so long... But also the only one that you ever received from another soul.

Because recognising it is not the only step. There is also the one of refusing it, of walking away and not taking that "bait". But is it really so easy to ignore it, when you know that it might be the only food that you will find in miles and miles that you will need to survive? Facing loneliness, the coldness around you as there is no one to warm even a little your heart... It is not easy at all to face it. And it is even more difficult to choose it, condemning yourself to that silence and void, that absence of smiles, of laughter, of the joy of having someone sometimes by your side. It is not really the decision to hurt yourself. But the one of hurting you less, by giving yourself at least something, even if it is not the exact thing you desired.

Or at least so you thought... What in the theory of a broken and tired heart makes sense, reveals later to be something much more draining and hurtful than you can bear in the reality of your days. The days that perhaps are really not that bad, even if you are the only one to witness them... They are not so cold, even if you have only the warmth of your own heart. They are for sure different from what you desire, or even from what others might expect from you. But not for this reason they are useless or not worth it. To be lived for your own self, candied only by your love... They can be sweet enough to be still enjoyed. Rather than ignored just because it does not come from someone else's heart.

It is not easy at all to resist it, to stop looking for or accepting something that is so damn similar to what you truly want and hope for... But it is easier to start, one step at a time, to learn how to give more love and respect to your own self, to your own ways, your appearance, your character, all that is a part of your beautiful soul... Because it will create that needed and better armour for you, that filter through which you will see the ways of others, giving them credit and appreciating them, but also never feeling dependent, never feeling like it is the only thing you have. So even when it will happen once again, as you will grow and learn to understand the intentions of others more... It will not hurt so much, it will not happen for so dangerously long. Because although still remaining your sweetest, hopeful and open self, you will also become whole. You will be enough, even on your own. Your life as it is will be enough. And every time your soul will connect with someone, they won't be the reason for your days to be lived, they won't cause your life to crash down if they are no longer by your side... But they will just be someone that, if you want to, you can share it with. A little moment, or a whole life.

♡ { free guidance | a little thank you } ♡

– Pile two,

the hierophant, the death, the three of cups

This world is so incredibly vast... This life can be so different just because of one little decision, a step in one direction rather than in the other one... And it is beautiful, it is indeed. But it is also so overwhelming. This freedom but also the risk of making a mistake, of not knowing in fact what is the best for you right now. It is difficult and so so scary to make your steps out there without even knowing what you are looking for, what you would like to achieve in this life, what or how to create... And what you will do if it will not work out. How will you handle a failure all on your own, the one responsible for all your actions and the consequences, the only one to be able to help you or give you support...

So it is normal to look more for that safe space, for that creation of a solid and strong base, perhaps not in other areas of your life that are already so difficult to manage... But at least in your connections, in the people that are by your side and that indeed can make any challenge feel so different, so easier to take care of when you are not alone in this mess desperately trying to save your life. It is normal to do it, to look for them, and once you found them - to look up to them. It is normal to seek support and guidance from those that have such an important place in your heart once they entered your life. It is normal to listen to others, to their opinions and experiences in hopes of finding answers to your own questions about this life. And it is normal to be charmed by their confidence, their strength, their plans and how easily they realize them one step at a time. It is normal and it is logical. To look for someone that can help you grow and become better at managing your life. Someone that, if something happens, always will have your back, always will know how to catch you before you fall to the ground...

But while they do inspire you in your journey... their path is all that they really know. And you are the one that, still so hopeful about your own desires and capabilities, is able to translate their conviction for their goals in motivation for your ones. But what happens when you fall more and more, what happens when you start to feel so tired and hurt with each failure that tears your goals apart, while they seem to become just better and better, safer in their life..? You stop to transform it and translate it for yourself, their story and their ways. And you start to absorb it. Without any filter, desperately. Because you are so consumed that only doubts remain in your heart. Doubts about your own capabilities and chances to succeed, doubts about your awareness and ability to make the right choices, to fight for the right things... Doubts that are just void in your heart, your mind, your ideas or motivation. A void that is so easily filled with the dreams of others, when they are so important, so close, so powerful and successful. An example of perfection that you respect and aspire to become. So you make them yours. Their opinions and convictions. And they help you at every step, because it is simply something that they love and that worked for them, so they are sure it will do the same for you... But does it ever truly..? Or is it just a well hidden play pretend, your tired feet that you try to fit in other's shoes, in hopes that they will be more comfortable, more safer, in the end?

But even so, it is not something that you allow to happen just because of your weakness or such a low self-esteem either... It is rather an influence that you almost desperately accept, in hopes that it will work better than what you tried on your own. It is not really lack of desire of working on something by yourself, but it is rather a genuine uncertainty and confusion on what you want to work on in the first place. It is just the most innocent naivety, being so new and fragile from this perspective for this world. It is just the desire and need to be guided a little, to have that help in figuring out what is the best or what you want, what might work... And it is not a malicious game of manipulation from others either. There is no desire in washing out your brain and fill it with their dreams or goals. It is just a genuine desire to help, but with so little knowledge of the other ways and journeys out there in this world. It is only someone that knows so well and trusts that one specific something, being able to show and help only with and through that. And it is just you that don't really know where or how to make your steps, what path to take, and in front of the immense risk and responsibility of choosing on your own, prefer to trust someone that you love and respect so much. Someone that you know will never do something to hurt you or to ruin your life.

But it still happens though... In a certain sense. Not intentionally. But they still ruin your journey that you do have, contrary to what all these obstacles, failures, and constant changes made you think. It's just not a linear one, not a specific one like so many others have. Your journey is just about something different from simply choosing and achieving. It is more than just one path or one thing to do, try or enjoy... You made so much experience so far, but at the same time so little. From your perspective it is all about failures, not being able to manage things, not knowing where to go... And it is so little about the joy of freedom, the possibility to start again and again, the chance to try and experiment with so many ideas and ways that this world wanted so much to show you, but that presented it so confusingly and poorly, so differently from the way and a language that you could comprehend...

But it is nothing irreparable, fortunately and as always. No matter if you want it or not, there will be many more endings and beginnings, many more changes that you will face in your life... You just need to not be afraid of them, to resist that urge to hold onto the hand of others so dearly, hiding behind their reassuring back instead of moving forward, through and past the obstacles on your path. You just need to have more faith, in your own self and your way of being, your intuition and instincts. More than you trust the ones of the others when it comes to your own life. You just need to be there for yourself, when it becomes a little too scary, different and new. You just need to trust and follow your own gaze, the things that caught your attention. Instead of looking for and trying to decipher the glimpses from others around you, before making any step.

It is okay, it is still right and fine even if it is so different from the journeys of others. And just because they are successful after walking on their chosen path, it doesn't mean that you can't become it too, on a different one, or many different ones. To be successful it is not always or only to achieve your initial goals or to stick to the plan. It is also to be able to learn from what happened, to grow, to enjoy it or even just and simply experience something. And you do it so well already, you manage things much better than you recognise.

Hold onto your own self, onto your curiosity and even the mood swings that gift you the desire to do something else, to look for something more. And let go slightly of their hand. They will not disappear, the ones that you love and look up to. They will always be here. But now you will have the chance to live your life like you want and feel right, not how they would do it, or how they did.

♡ { free guidance | a little thank you } ♡

– Pile three,

the page of cups, the hanged man, the page of pentacles

What can be worse than believing so much in someone, in loving them, in giving them every chance, making them the object of your strongest hope... just for them to be someone that will walk away, uninterested to all that you've done for your connection, not being satisfied with all that you would be ready to do just for your bond..? Only doing it more than once. Again and again. Trusting, welcoming, one soul after another into your world... watching them destroy it after using it for a moment of comfort or unconditional love and support...

But it doesn't really matter for you, for your heart. Does it? All that you endure when you try to connect deeper with someone is simply nothing, compared to that world hidden in their soul that you can witness, that bond that can heal any wound, banish all the fears and nightmares of the old ones... if only they reciprocate your affection and love. It is nothing compared to the chance that the person in front of you is indeed the one. It is nothing compared to the pure pain that would overwhelm you if you miss them. If you miss them because you will be one of those that you swear you won't become. A cold, judgemental, selfish soul...

Because you know thank to your own self how people can be different from the mask that they carry when they are outside. You know how many stories and reasons can be hidden behind that coldness, that meanness, that defensivness that sometimes pours out of someone who is just not used to be treated so softly, so kindly, as you do thanks to your so gentle heart... You know it well, because for so long you felt the same way. In need to protect yourself, to hide your tenderness so you won't be used or hurt every single time... And you remember how, while doing everything to push others away, all you wanted was to be seen and understood, accepted and appreciated just the way you were... So you do it with others too now. Now that you found that strength and courage to just love the way you feel is right. You nourish every person, you take care of every one that crosses your path. You believe in them, you trust them. And you hope that one day, thanks to you, they will finally open up. And love you back.

But although so noble and incredibly sweet... it is a promise that is not so easy to keep. Not when those that you try to take care of are so different from how you were when you needed it. Their armour is stronger. Their pain is more loud. And sometimes... they already chose a different path, a more lonely one. And nothing will change it, no matter how hard you will try, how strongly you will believe that somewhere in them there is more sweetness and gentleness hidden, that there can be more between you than just this coldness and distance between your hearts.

You are incredibly loving, you are just so sweet. And it truly admirable the way you still hold hope, the way you find courage within yourself and are ready to put your own heart at risk just to help others. Just to gift them that love that you know they need... But it is also so destructive, for your own soul. To put yourself again and again on the line in the battles of others, just because they are by your side, close enough to be noticed by your protective and selfless eyes...

For how long can you endure it? For how long you can give so much of you, because of this strong conviction that there is more to people, to connections, to their stories... Because of your desire to know them, understand them and save them, like no one ever did for you when you needed it the most? It wouldn't be right to just tell you to not do it. To lose your faith in people and in the connections. To force yourself to believe that no one ever will appreciate the way you love or give you that same love back... Because it is just the way you are. So rare and beautiful in how much love you hold in your heart... But it would be right and even needed for you to learn to not force it... when you feel so much resistance, when you just receive silence, in return of your desire to help or show others a different way to see this world. Because there are those that are more sure and more honest. The ones that want to take care of their wounds on their own, and that would never accept to use someone, because they know too well how much it would hurt. The ones that just push you away, or move forward and past you, following their own journey and making it clear that they want to go through it alone... But there are also those that are more confused, more tired, or even worse just bored... Those that make you stay, seeing how much you want to give to someone your love. Those that accept it. But also never repay you. Those that take more and more from you, that are so willing to help every time that they ask you...even when they don't really need it. But just want it. So it is less lonely and cold.

You have a golden heart, a pure and honest one. And for this reason it should be protected, at least a little more. Be yourself, be kind, be gentle. But also pay more attention to the ones that call your name and seek your help so often, always right after being the one to push you away... Because sometimes there are people that just can't resist your love that is always so available, so comforting and convenient for their lonely nights, for the nightmares and difficult times that they could and should overcome on their own, but are just not ready. Or don't want.

♡ { free guidance | a little thank you } ♡

[fallow-hollow]

haiii :D anon who requested courting rituals with kabru here !! i meant to imply somewhere like southeast asia , ( although i could totally see kabru being from an area near the himalayas or something , like nepal , since he shares a name with one of the mountains ) but i intentionally tried to specify it reallyy vague so anyone could relate ! (๑>◡<๑)

but to be fair , i dont really think dungeon meshi really mentions the southeast much or even at all ?? (｀_´)ゞother than the mention of toshiro being from the eastern archipelago , so i'd imagine reader would be from one of the various scattered islands there towards the south ? :0

( also if you need an example , some traditional courting where i'm from is something like meeting the parents and asking for permission to pursue , handwritten letters , meaningful conversations , various gifts like flowers , and serenading ! plus just genuine respect and a willingness to wait ^_^ even though im pretty sure kabru would get a bit impatient sometimes ehehe )

i know it sounds like something pretty simple but even the little things can go a long way ٩(^‿^)۶ !!

suitor

…ft! kabru x male! reader

…tags! courting, mentions of marriage, meeting reader’s family, reader is from an unspecified place outside the island, dancing, mentions of having kids

…word count! 2025

…notes! tried to make these imagines broad but not extremely so, and some of these courting gestures do have a little kabru flare to them because he’s like that. feedback is greatly appreciated, because i want to make sure my writing is accurate to each request!

Kabru isn’t someone I’d see dating casually. Sure, he frequently uses his charm to sway people’s opinions and get them on his side, but I don’t think he’s really been in a proper relationship before at all. So if Kabru’s pursuing you, it’s for keeps.

Family is a really important thing in courting/marriage culture all around the world, so trust and believe that one of the first things he does is try to get on good terms with your family members.

Don’t underestimate the man, he will somehow deduce the mailing addresses of your immediate and extended family and immediately started getting in contact, saying he was a friend of yours and telling them about the time spent with you. Pretty quickly after that, your family starts sending you letters telling you that you should’ve told them about that lovely young gentleman you’d met sooner.

“Kabru?”

Arms crossed, you did your best to remain steadfast even as your companion looked at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“Yes?” His response was laced with false innocence, but you knew he knew. He just got a kick out of hearing you say it yourself.

With a sigh, you would slump your shoulders and ask, “how did you find out the mailing address of several of my family members?”

“Oh, that was just a coincidence,” the man lied. “Remember when one of your packages got misdelivered to the tavern? The return address happened to stick in my memory, and I got curious to learn more about your family. After all, they contact you quite a bit, and I was curious about your relationship.”

Despite your lack of a headache, you rubbed your temples with your index and middle fingers to express your exasperation with the man. Kabru was great, he really was, but sometimes he confused you greatly….

“You could’ve just asked, you know that?”

The close-eyed smile he gave you in return let you know that you probably hadn’t gotten through to him much.

“I just thought it would be a nice surprise, don’t you agree?”

He might not express it much outwardly, but deep down, Kabru is really worried about being good enough to obtain the blessing to pursue you. That’s why he tries to cover as many bases as possible to be the best possible suitor for you.

When he does get to meet your family in person, he does as much preparation as humanly possible to make it all go perfectly. He studies up on local politics, sports, and cuisine in order to be able to make good conversation with your family.

I think Kabru also rather likes kids, so he’s extremely good with any younger family members you may have, which is likely to score points with your parents and other adults in the family. Kabru loves hearing the funny things kids say and seeing what sort of things their vibrant minds come up with, so he’d do things like play pretend with them. He’s also pretty physically fit, so he could play a sport or outdoor game with them too.

Even if he appears perfectly calm on the inside, he was absolutely scared shitless when he asked your family for permission to pursue you. He would assure them that he’s very much prepared to be with you in the long term, and even came prepared with things like savings for marriage or even a dowry if that’s something that is typical in your region.

Overall, Kabru is a polite, poised, and extremely well educated young man, so he’s someone that pretty much any parent would want as a son-in-law. Hearing their words of approval was like lifting the weight of an entire city off his shoulders.

“I was so worried,” your partner would admit after the fact. Completely unable to wrap your head around such a thing, you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“How could you be? You’re perfect, Kabru. If anything, I was worried you’d have something better to do than settle down with me.”

Those piercing blue eyes bored into your skull, looking at you as if you were the most insane man in the world for having said such a thing.

“How could that be when you’re perfect too?”

The question left you in such a shocked and flustered state that you hardly noticed him move into you felt both his hands holding one of your own, thumbs resting almost reverently on top of your ring finger.

“It’s almost embarrassing now to admit that at one point in time, I didn’t see a future for myself. I guess that was because I hadn’t seen you yet?”

A ‘pfft’ sound escaped your mouth almost instantly. “Oh, no need to use your smooth lines on me.”

Both thumbs pressed down on your finger ever so slightly, in the place where perhaps a ring might go.

“I mean it, I really do.”

Whether it be providing for you or taking care of a home, Kabru does his best to learn anything he needs to no one order to be a good partner. The man actually isn’t very good at taking care of himself, so him learning housework and cooking for your sake really goes to show just how devoted he is.

In fact, on one of your dates, he surprises you by presenting you with a dish he cooked himself — one from your homeland. Even if it’s not perfect, you can tell he put so much love into it.

“The arrangement of it is kind of messy, I know….” Seeing Kabru of all people acting sheepish was certainly a rare sight. As strange as it was, thinking about the implications of such a thing made you feel all warm inside. He really cared for you that much, huh……

“It’s not the appearance of it that matters, it’s the taste.” You were quick to reassure him, smiling as you took the necessary utensils in one hand. “Besides, knowing that you tried so hard for me is more than enough. I mean, I hardly ever see you cook for yourself.”

There was no way Kabru could deny your statement, so he could only nod and look to the side. Instead of directly addressing your correct assessment of his skills, he pivoted into an adjacent topic. “Cooking has always been a gesture people perform for the people they care about. All over the world, it’s something that connects families and couples… it’s only natural I should try it, regardless of my skill level.”

Your partner’s explanations of his acts of service, despite sounding like they came right out of some textbook, never failed to charm you. At its core, it was yet another reminder of how hard Kabru worked to understand how to be a good partner for you.

“It means a lot to me,” you reassured him, lifting the food to your lips, not quite eating it yet. Kabru did his best to keep his expression stone still to hide his anticipation as you inhaled the scent of the dish, making a small humming noise in reaction that he couldn’t help but overthink on the inside. Was it good? Bad? Did he not use enough spices? Too many spices? He knew he should have triple checked the recipe…

While the tallman was overthinking, you readily accepted the labor of love into your mouth, deliberating on its texture and flavor as you chewed. A sharp exhale escaped you immediately after swallowing, after which you would chirp with delight,

“It’s really nice!”

Kabru’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in the date. Mission accomplished.

I imagine Kabru keeps a journal not only about daily events, but also about people, so sometimes as a gift you might get one of the pages of his journal that has an entry about you. Sometimes the page may also contain little doodles or sketches of you, many of which were when he was admiring you without you noticing.

Kabru’s got a pretty nice singing voice, actually, and he seems to speak multiple languages, so he may try learning songs in your language to sing to you. It’s as smooth and romantic as you’d imagine, but if you start singing along with him, you can see him start to melt the second he hears your voice. You really are his weakness.

Another thing — dancing! Kabru has likely had ballroom dance lessons, but other types of dance are ones he’s more unfamiliar with. If you ever know a regional dance you want to teach him, he’ll be happy to learn, albeit super embarrassed at his own clumsiness. Being able to romance you with honeyed words and picture perfect gestures is something he prides himself on, but you reassure him that he’s just as charming even now.

A chorus of ‘sorry’s followed almost in time with the rhythm of your own feet. The man responsible for said chorus, however, didn’t seem to have much rhythm of his own yet, and was feeling rather bashful as a result.

“It’s rare that I get to see you clumsy, Kabru.” There was a teasing lilt in your voice that the other man immediately read into, despite his best judgment. Logically, he knew that you would never say something intentionally cruel to or about him, but when he was always so eager to have your favor, it was hard not to worry.

Another apology escaped his lips, after which one of your hands left its assigned position to rest under his chin. The movement of the rest of your body stilled, focusing only on getting the one you loved so dearly to face you. Blue irises were met with not a trace of malice, only the truest of endearment.

“It’s fine, Kabru.” The affection in your voice paired with how insistently you pitched these words to him gave him the strength to smile and nod in understanding, his own paranoid be damned. Resolving his habitual apologizing sated you, though you were certainly not done loving on the man that you called yours.

“Honestly it’s nice to be able to teach you things firsthand. You spend a lot of time reading about things, probably to surprise me, which is great, don’t get me wrong — but I like this.”

The little head tilt you did without thinking drove him wild on the inside, but he did his best not to show it. It would be so easy to kiss you like this.

“I like being able to feel like I can teach you something, even when you know as much as you do.”

Considering it made you this happy, Kabru might start asking you to teach him things a lot more often. For once, the thought of putting the situation in someone else’s hands made him feel warm inside instead of uneasy.

“Yeah, I like it too.”

Fashion may not be one of Kabru’s biggest interests, but the sight of you in any culture or region-specific clothing that you like always has him in awe of just how dashing you look.

This goes double if it’s your wedding and you’re wearing a traditional outfit, maybe even something passed down in the family. You might as well just kill the man then and there, really.

Speaking of marriage and family, I think Kabru would actually really like adopting a kid some time in the future, as long as everything is stable and such. Kabru himself was adopted, so the idea of becoming a home for a child who may have lost the home they had before is a concept rather close to his own heart.

Future used to be something Kabru fought desperately to create for all of humanity while never, ever considering his own place in it. So much changed after meeting you — he could actually see himself having a future now. Being an important character in a story instead of just the person telling it to somebody else.

More than anything, you saved him. He doesn’t tell this to anybody other than you, but as you lay together at night, he insists he wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

[anghraine]

Ok, I've been thinking about this question a lot and there's not enough evidence in P&P to fully support any answer, but I wanted to hear yours: What is the Gardiners' economic status/How rich are the Gardiners?

Obviously, Mr. Gardiner is a tradesman, but I'm desperately curious to know the extent of his wealth. Does he have a similar income to Mr. Bennet but is just more frugal? Would he have been able to take in his niece(s)/sister when Mr. Bennet died? Does he have Bingley-level tradesman wealth without the massive lump sum Bingley inherited from his father? Darcy assumes that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner are gentry - but like, Bennet gentry or Woodhouse gentry or Lucas gentry. JANE SKIMPED ON THE GARDINER INFORMATION AND NOW WE'LL NEVER KNOW. So what are your headcanons surrounding the Gardiners' wealth?

Really, the most important Gardiner headcanon that the Gardiner children are immediately charmed by Darcy and think he's like ~the coolest~

thanks queen <3

Six months later: hi!

My opinion is that the Gardiners are very well-off in terms of the usual incomes of the gentry. It's difficult to pin down an exact income range because I'm not a historian or economist, but the literary evidence is pretty suggestive IMO.

For one, Mr Bennet has no trouble believing that Mr Gardiner could have shelled out ten thousand pounds for Lydia; the problem is the struggle of repaying him, as Mr Bennet would feel morally obligated to do. The impression I get is that this would be a lot of money for Mr Gardiner to come up with, but everyone accepts that he could quickly do it, where Mr Bennet could not. And Mrs Gardiner does insist that Mr Gardiner would have paid the money if Darcy had let him, which again suggests that it was reasonably doable for him.

When Elizabeth and Jane first pass the news to Mrs Bennet and try to express the debt of gratitude they all owe Mr Gardiner, Mrs Bennet's response is a bitter remark about how if her brother had not married and had children of his own, "I and my children must have had all his money, you know; and it is the first time we have ever had anything from him except a few presents."

Aside from what this reveals about her character (especially given the remarkable understatement of "a few presents" given everything they've done for Jane and Elizabeth), I think "all his money" suggests an awareness that there would have been quite a bit to inherit if Mr Gardiner hadn't had the temerity to, uh, have children.

The summer tourism journey also doesn't seem to represent a severe expense for the Gardiners, though it would be outside the realm of possibility for some. They're not super frugal, but they're also not going to pull a Sir William Lucas and abandon the source of their income, or take an estate or something to distance themselves from trade, and end up unable to provide security for their children or any significant luxuries for their loved ones and themselves. So the Gardiners do make practical decisions like living near Mr Gardiner's warehouses and continuing his business in town.

Darcy (in Elizabeth's opinion) mistakes the Gardiners for "people of fashion" rather than gentry per se. This is interesting because Darcy originally considered the entire Meryton neighborhood, including the local gentry, as people noticeably not of fashion. This concept of people of fashion is typically more about fashionable high society than trade vs gentry IMO.

For instance, Mr Hurst is described as "a man of more fashion than fortune"—i.e. someone with high society credentials from his family, but not a lot of money, though he has enough to maintain a house in Grosvenor Street. (I think the implication is that the Hursts considered their status and Louisa Bingley's 20,000 l. from trade a fair exchange.) So likely, Darcy is not confusing the Gardiners for minor rural gentry, but even higher-status people if Elizabeth is analyzing his reaction correctly, based on their appearance, apparel, demeanor, etc.

This is definitely a time when wealthy people in trade could pass for people of fashion, but I think it would ordinarily take some doing, and though the Gardiners are stylish and relatively young, they aren't trying hard in the way that the Bingleys are. Yet Darcy, who went on a whole tangent about trade cooties during his proposal, can't even identify the Gardiners as people in trade upon meeting them—that's important.

(It's also significant, of course, that he's surprised to discover their exact connection aka that they're Mrs Bennet's relatives, which is honestly pretty fair. In any case, he evaluates Mr and Mrs Gardiner on their own considerable merits by this point.)

So again, I get the sense that the Gardiners are quite well-off people who spend their money on nice enough things that they can be mistaken for a completely different class than their own, but are not specifically aiming for that or super extravagant, either. Their habits seem rather similar to Darcy's, actually—I don't think they're anywhere near as wealthy, but they're wealthy enough that they can approach major expenditures fairly casually, as he does. But unlike Darcy, it will always be contingent on Mr Gardiner's business success and they have to plan around his work and the possibility of sudden changes in terms of his work.

I personally think that Mr Gardiner would undoubtedly have been able to take care of his sister and nieces in the worst case scenario. Six women used to a high standard of living (we know Mrs Bennet is extravagant; it's only Mr Bennet's frugality that keeps the Bennets out of debt as it is) would probably be a strain, but I don't think beyond the income level indicated, even accounting for the needs of his immediate family.

When Mrs Bennet is dramatizing herself during the Lydia disaster, she tells Mr Gardiner, "if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what we shall do," and he assures her of his affection for both her and her entire family. This could be seen as a sort of empty redirection that avoids promising anything, especially given that her catastrophizing fantasy scenarios are extremely unlikely, but I think that's a misread of his character.

I see his reply as a tactful assurance that, in the (improbable) event of Mr Bennet dying in a duel, his affection for her and her daughters would indeed ensure his protection of her and her daughters. There's no doubt from anyone that he's capable of doing this, though it would certainly mean a change in their style of living that Mrs Bennet would vocally resent.

So while this isn't super-specific, I hope it helped!

Normally I don't need to do this, but I would like to add a sort of credit/disclaimer: I didn't initially notice all these signs and my understanding of the Gardiners' standard of living and general circumstances was, I believe, strongly influenced by JulieW of the Life and Times board at Republic of Pemberley back in the earlyish 2000s (maybe about 2006?).

The L&T board is sadly gone (or was the last few times I checked), though ROP clings to life, but she knew a lot more about Georgian history and culture than I ever will, and these references to the Gardiners' prosperity seemed really glaring once she pointed them out.

(Her analysis of Pemberley's age, architecture, and general class significance was also really influential and I'm still really sad that I have to rely on the perfidy of memory about it.)

[chaeyoei]

Hello :3 ,I had an idea while staying up late (it's 3am) and I was remembering school and so on, so I'm curious if you could write about HSR characters in school (as usual I want Blade and Aventurine;) and other characters if they're male or female (Kafka pls..) And how they act with the reader

All in all, have a good day/night (Any time.)

👀 we'll settle some things down then. Gender Neutral. These are personal opinions and my creative juices aren't flowing well.

Blade

Blade borderlines between Class delinquent and Bunker.

Blade was an A grade student but something happened and he lost all motivation and became who is he now.

You can expect school bully traits from him. He and his group are always in detention. It's become a daily basis.

His interaction with you would really just be him not acknowledging you or if you're close to him, he'll share his lunch with you.

Sliver Wolf

Sliver Wolf is the Kid who's going to be developing obbies in Roblox and just be a champion in digital games.

She's going to bunk classes and just grafiti the school wall.

If you ever see the username ChampionSliverWolf_0 in your game, just know that you're losing your one game streak.

She'd call you loser if you're really bad at games (me), and if you make for a good opponents, just expect from her to come up to you and go "Game night at 5 pal" And then leave.

Kafka

Makima Charm with Monkia's manipulation.

You know this woman is going to make you question your sexuality. She just has that charm. The one girl who's locker would be filled with love letters and roses.

If you ask anyone what they think she'd be in the future, 99 out of 100, you're going to hear model.

I think that her and Blade would be friends which nobody expected to happen but she would give her notes to Blade and in return Blade would protect her from the creeps. (No ship.)

Kafka would either be that one girl you can ask on how to charm your crush and she'll give you tips for some credits ofc.

Firefly

That one silent and shy girl that can kick ass and give you nasty looks if you bully her or her friends.

She's a goodey two shoes but she'd break rules for her friends.

I'd like to think she has a condition that limits her to have a few friends.

But I think she and Silver Wolf would get along pretty well. Silver Wolf would host a slumber party and invite Firefly, they play Mario kart and monopoly, munch on Cheetos and fall asleep.

Firefly, if you're a good friend would remain lighthearted and shy infront of you but boy if anyone ever bullies you, she's going to kick some ass.

Aventurine

That one kid who already has a business running. Need a pen? That'd be 10 credits, a new notebook? 25 credits. Gum? 5 credits.

He's really popular too. Heck he's somehow friends with the topper Ratio.

i think he'd be a shameless flirt. He'd have those right lines and rizz you up like it's nobody's business.

Herta

The Academic weapon. Doesn't even attend the class, shows up in the finals and scores the best with full marks and nobody knows who she even is.

honestly, nothing. She's not even attending. You either don't know her or do.

Robin

The popular girl who'd help you do your make up and is just nice. There's a chance that my Seele can crit more than the chance of anyone disliking her on planet Earth.

The most active and the lead of the choir.

She'd help you in everything, whether it'd be studies or getting you into a group.

Drabble and no long paragraph because my creative spirits have betrayed me like Dan Heng IL not coming home after I spent everything on him.