#I'm so glad to know we're all normal about him

[orangetintedglasses]

The way the undertaker went a little more quiet— mumbling his responses and focusing more on the food in front of him than anything else —told both Luida and their guest all they really needed to know… though probably Luida moreso than their guest, as he left them to their own devices fairly quickly.

That meant that there would be a bit of silence between them for a little while, filled only by the occasional shuffle of containers and clinking of cutlery or dishware, but the matron didn't mind much. Single-minded function or not, it was good to see Wolfwood eating; that he had an appetite at all after being unconscious for so long was a good sign that his body was functioning correctly… at least, on a surface level. If they really wanted to know for certain, that would require a few rudimentary tests, and Luida really didn't want to put the young man through that when it was…

… well. When it was fairly clear that his biology wasn't normal.

So, the matron kept her eyes down— opting to check on various systems and networks that she had access to on her tablet until she heard the clink of silverware being set on the tray and Wolfwood speaking again. Quiet, but clearer this time.

When she looked up, she noticed that the poor thing looked pretty thoroughly distracted.

"Glad to hear it." she said gently, smiling as she reached out for him and laid her hand upon the bed. Not on him, not touching, but close by, as a gesture of 'I'm here, you aren't alone' while still trying to respect any boundaries he had… and partially to keep from startling him out of wherever it was he'd wandered off to in his own head.

Luida canted her head somewhat curiously.

"Is there anything else you'd like…? Maybe we could try to walk around a little, if you're feeling up to it, but if you'd prefer to keep resting for a little while, that's alright, too."

Admittedly they should try and get him moving at some point in the next few hours, since—

"… we do still have about a days' worth of travel. At that point, it'd be more beneficial for us to let you off. You'd get there much faster on your vehicle than you would traveling with us, since the storm cell we're traveling through is shifting course for a few days."

The bouncy, peppy nature of the nutritionist is familiar, and strikes Wolfwood in an odd sort of way... like a church bell that's somehow off-key. It twists some knot that still has residence in his chest cavity, making him miss Vash even more than he was five seconds ago. Hell, even the red gelatin is making his heart do flips—'Vash would absolutely eat that first,' his brain automatically answers, as though it even matters.

Maybe if he closes his eyes hard enough, he can imagine how it'd taste on Vash's lips as well. Cherry—probably—it'd soak his already flushed lips with sugary-sweet juice, and...

God, someone strike him down with a bolt of lightning or a bullet, Wolfwood doesn't care which at this point.

He mumbles something incomprehensible, yet affirmative, then gently picks up the tray and scoops a spoonful of the jiggling ruby-red translucent solid-not-solid and brings it to his lips. The flavor is as bright and sweet as he imagined it, and it does shoot a pang of wishful yearning right through his heart.

Tastes like Vash.

Well, it doesn't taste anything like Vash, but it reminds him of Vash—

Vash and his stupid red lips and pink cheeks and sharp teeth and cute tongue and his bright hair that reminds him of the the dawn of the parent sun, or maybe it reminds him of just-sweet-enough lemonade, or iced tea with lemon at sunset...

"Fuck," the undertaker mumbles to himself, stubbornly slurping spoonfuls of the gelatin and filling the spoon occasionally with a bite of fruit alongside them. "Get a hold of yourself, Nicholas."

Whatever the hell they put in the food does re-energize him, at least. He can continue to put up with the bullshit of the day, or whatever. Soon he can go find Vash and bring him Home.

Before he realizes it, Wolfwood's downed all of the food he's been given—like he entered a trance state and focused solely on his own empty belly for once. He doesn't leave much room for conversation outside of his own idle, self-derogatory muttering

Vash... he gets to see Vash soon. Within days, likely. It's too soon—it's not soon enough—he doesn't know.

"S'good. Thanks," Wolfwood is eventually able to eke out, still clearly swatting away Cupids and ghosts. "Feeling better."

[humblemooncat]

3, 10, 15, 36, and 39 for Lohi!

im normal about him btw

*Shakes your hand* I too am VERY normal about him. In fact, have a him (I found it while looking for shots for the last ask, and now it's haunting me)

How often does your OC swear? Is it something that punctuates their everday speech? Or is it so unusual to hear them use "bad" language that it would shock those around them?

It's not every other word, but it's also not unusual for him to swear, especially in certain situations.

Does your OC often punctuate their speech with filler sounds, such as "um" or "er"? Or words such as "like" or "you know"?

Oh, ABSOLUTELY. Lohi's mind often runs slower than his mouth, so he uses filler words a LOT to allow things to catch up. xD

What is your OC's favourite or "go-to" swearword when under duress?

Like Amare, his favorite is any variation of "Fuck". It's very versatile!

What is your OC's laugh like? Is it a genteel titter? A hearty belly laugh? Or a snorting noise like a constipated donkey?

Depends on the intensity of the laugh. If it's a comment that caught him off-guard, one might hear a snort of laughter. A joke he found funny might get a slightly raspy chuckle. Something he finds hilarious would elicit a low rumble of a belly laugh as he doubles over. Why low and rumbling, you might ask? Well...

Is your OC particularly loud in combat? Do they yell? Roar? Or are they a silent and deadly presence?

Lohi's always got a constant growl/rumble in his chest as he speaks, and it only gets more pronounced when angry and/or in battle. I've really leaned into the tiger aspect of his design these days, and so fighting him would sound a lot like fighting an actual tiger. If that tiger could speak, of course. Anger brings out the big cat vocal cords and the rolled r's, much like U'odh's way of speaking, and his own father's I would think. Two of the strongest men he'd known.

[crossbackpoke-check]

i've been thinking a lot about the mojoe show, especially how i miss seeing them together and somehow, i stumbled on your blog and all your tags about them (joe in specific) speak directly to me!

no go on... what are the tags saying to you... come join the mojo(e) jojo hive mind...

[ame-to-ame]

love being nd and have the tism wolf Inside me be so drastically uncomfortable with uncertainty that i physically cannot think about school and having to deal w the unknown of that whole situation without losing 5lbs in 2 days

[ssahotchnerr]

Could you maybe write another little blurb where the bau team calls reader and hotch mom and dad? That is like one of my favorite things in the world!!

parental units

i'm so glad you asked <3 cw; fem bau!reader, established relationship, teasing from the team (lovingly), aaron and reader are down bad for each other, your usual (brief) cm violence

"Why do they always need to run?" Panting, you loosened your vest as Aaron handed the unsub off to one of the officers. "Why can't they just willingly turn themselves in."

"You're awfully quick for someone who despises cardio." Aaron teased as he assisted you, undoing your last velcro strap. Same as you, he was normalizing his breathing, but for his own reasons.

The unsub had attempted to escape; you bolted right after him into the dense trees, fleeing into the darkness.

You can hold your own; strongly, confidently, and Aaron knew that. He didn't worry about you in that regard, whereas he worried for you. However, you were out of his line of sight for a good five minutes, the sound of a stray gunshot nearly causing his heart to give out.

Thankfully, the unsub had missed you and hit a tree instead. He and Morgan caught up as you had the guy shoved into it, cuffing him. A few scraps were present on your face to show for your hustle through the trees, but you were unfazed; it was as if you hadn't been shot at at all. Contrary to Aaron, still regaining his composure.

"Oh please," you shook your head, holding onto your side. Your eyes held a playful glint, "I stay in shape just to keep up with you."

His lips formed into an easy smile. "Is that so?"

You hummed softly in return, stealing a second to check him out. "You're very... enduring."

"I aim to please, sweetheart. Over and over again."

You blushed as Aaron laughed lightly, playfully bumping his shoulder into yours. Behind you, the sound of crunching leaves halted, as did the following footsteps.

"The two of you couldn't have waited what, five? Ten more minutes?" Derek groaned, his nose scrunched in disgust as his hand stretched outward. "The guy isn't even in the cruiser yet, and you're already all over each other?" With a subtle shake of his head, mischief in his tone, "this is why we drive separately."

You snorted a laugh. "What?"

"No one wants to ride with Mom and Dad." He shrugged, failing at keeping a smile at bay. "We prefer the cool car."

"You all cram into the SUV... to avoid us." Aaron's expression quirked, his eyebrows lightly furrowing. "Do we need to have a discussion about road safety?"

"The cool car?" Priorities. Slight offense was intertwined with your amusement, your gaze switching between the two of them. "We're cool."

Another famous Derek Morgan grin. "Eh, that's debatable."

"Emily willingly came with us though." You protested, but it was beginning to make sense. The reluctance, the way they all nearly fought over seats, the newly formed rule when applicable: Hotchners always ride together. "So we can't be that bad, right?"

By now you have reached the others, illuminated by the red and blue flashing lights.

"Drew the short straw this time." Emily shrugged, her lips pulling up mischievously. It was clear they were just loving this. "Loser rides with the parents."

Your mouth dropped open, a surprised laugh escaping you. "Seriously?"

"We love you both. We do," Dave reassured, holding his hands up in surrender. "But I already get carsick. Don’t need to add witnessing your foreplay on top of it."

Aaron's brows drew into a line once more, humorously crossing his arms. "Maybe you just have a weak stomach."

Spencer perked up, inputting, "You know, carsickness is-"

"No need for fancy, genius scientifics here Reid." Emily offered you a smirk, feigning a gag once Aaron's hand habitually found the small of your back. You don't think he even realized he'd done so. "They're gross."

"In that case," Aaron rolled his eyes, his brows relaxing as they lifted playfully - it was your turn to poke fun. "My wife and I will be getting into our SUV now. Go ahead, draw your straws. And if whoever loses has a problem with us showing our affection, they can feel free to walk back."

[katakaluptastrophy]

This is your semi-regular reminder that for all that he very much leans into being 'just a guy', John Gaius is a horribly unsettling and disturbing eldritch entity who has not been entirely human for 10,000 years:

As the world went up I remade us both. I hid me in you... I hid you in me. And when we were together... I became God..

We're repeatedly told how uncanny Alecto was. And how terribly ordinary-looking John is...but how deeply, deeply upsetting his eyes are to behold. They're repeatedly described as "monstrous" (on one occasion, directly before John jokes "I'm not a monster"), as well as "terrible", "like dead planets", "primordial", "chthonic", "inconceivable", and "deeply fucked up".

There are multiple descriptions of how his down to earth persona suddenly falls away and he can be seen as something infinitely more awful:

"terrible divinity clung to his skin"

"It was the first time that he had seemed at all mortal. Humanity touched him briefly, like a passing shadow"

"He was no longer human. He was immortal again"

"He was always somehow more alive than everyone else around him, and yet dislocated from what you considered living. A man-shaped eclipse."

"The Emperor of the Nine Houses - the Resurrection - the First Reborn - sat at the end of the table, his plain face splattered with gore, and his eyes were the death of light."

There's one moment in particular where Harrow perceives him as something vastly beyond human:

his great immortal age - of an enormous distance between you, of an ignition too bright for you to conceive. You were an insect standing before a forest fire. You were a cell holding a heart.

(Though of course Harrow herself is far from metaphysically straightforward - in the River, Gideon says "You were a sigil: you were an intermingled fire...you were a hunger without a stomach...")

When John describes Resurrection Beasts to Harrow - although we do not yet know that this is a confession of murder and of a sort of cannibalism by a part man, part planet - he is "lit from beneath by electric lighting, the gleam in his eyes black and wet. You caught him moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue."

Even when he's not obviously being an eldritch thing, his very normal crown of foetal bones moves on its own, and the white rings in his eyes are described as flickering. Even blithely sitting in a Cohort Admiralty meeting munching peanuts, John is in constant, unsettling motion.

As if that doesn't already sound unpleasant enough, it seems rather like there is something physically discomforting about making eye contact with John. Looking on those white rings is likened to "dying" and "a migraine", and described as "scalding".

It still hurt you a little, to look into his terrible eyes... You had never become used to it.

Making eye contact with John doesn't just cause physical pain. It also seems to open you up to some degree of suggestion or compulsion. Here's Gideon's description of making eye contact with John:

God looked at me...and held my gaze. It was this that pinned us in place. When those white rings hovered on someone else, the blood rushed back to your brain; when they flickered back to me, I went white and blank again, mute and stupid, a floating outline... Those white-ringed eyes closed, and your heart almost relaxed in your chest.

Which seems to place two incidents that otherwise might be explained as Harrow's difficulty refusing the man she has been raised to worship as god in a different light:

It still hurt you in an undefinable way, to see him lowered so: as though he offered a compliance test where you ought to flatten yourself in front of him as low as you could go. The white ring around his pupil was so white.

He looked at you as though he were glad to see you... some nameless softening in his face and those white-tinged, primordial eyes. He reached out for your hands. You could not refuse him, and in any case had no choice of doing so; your body reacted long before your mind did, and the meat of your meat and the flesh of your flesh belonged to God

I don't think we're nearly frightened enough of John... Or of the prospect of John and Alecto - the man who became god and the god who became man - reunited (even if at odds) in ATN...

[axolotl4days]

Honestly I've been thinking about it some more

Theres so many angst opertunitys for a non neglected reader

For example the reader mentally not doing well from juggling school, vigilante stuff, social stuff, all the secrets and possibly a sprinkle of not good enough anxiety with a cherry of "everyone's gone through worse I can't complain" angst

I mean when some of your family members have literally died, or were raised as child soldiers even if they never say it thays probably gonna cause some internal issues

Just imaging yandere batfam finding that out.

Also if we do want neglected reader why not some more neglected reader but not by the batfam? Mr adopted a million kids finding out a kids being neglected or abused by their parents? Sounds like gateway yandere

Damian making a friend at school that treats him like normal, but then he learns about said friends home life and is like "I've decided your my sibling now"(I've thought of a story idea similar to this lol)

What about some story where the reader doesn't know the batfam, but due to reasons became a vigilante on their own and the fam is like "Welp new addition to the family"

It's not kidnapping it's suprise adoption

Honestly the angstiest story of all could be a story without angst at least what it seems

Leaning into the "reader was neglected or abused by previous family" idea where the batfam takes reader, but the reader is like, unnaturally chill about it

"You've been locked here for awhile why are you so calm?? We're glad you aren't fighting us but??"

"Oh this is normal, my parents used to lock me in the basement all the time I'm used to it"

Or "Why are you so okay with all of this" "you haven't hurt me" "o h"

I've been I'm a yandere story mood but I've read so much neglected reader it's gotten meh

I want a reader who's overjoyed at having people care about them

A reader who is already so broken the batfam is like "we were gonna lock you up and keep you away from people but you need friends"

[m0nnypie]

I'VE GOT MY EYES ON YOU

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Summary: Just the pov of Finnick loving you over the years, and remembering everything about you

Warnings: cute but with a bit of angst on Finn's part. Other than that, all happiness and love.

a/n: Well, excuse any spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language. And I tried my best to make it as much like Finnick as I could, but this is my first fic of his lol. Anyway, I hope you like it and enjoy <3

Words: 1.8k

Finnick remembers the first time he saw you. He was eight and you were only six. Your father had gone to see his for some reason Finnick can't remember — not least because he hadn't been paying attention to them. What he does remember is you glaring at him. It made him laugh, which only deepened your frown.

He imagines it was because you didn't like him very much at the time. He didn’t blame you. With your older brother constantly saying that no boy was any good, it was hard to be friends with anyone he was always badmouthing. Finnick didn’t blame your brother either — in a world like theirs, any protection, even unnecessary, was better than none. Still, nothing changed how cute and funny he had found you at the time. After that day, you never met in person again.

The time he considers the second was when his name was called at the reaping. He remembers your eyes glued to him; you were twelve, and he was fourteen. He could feel your pity seeping through his skin. He didn’t blame you — after all, like it or not, it was still the Hunger Games. But knowing that you were looking at him made it almost funny to him, and it was with that thought in mind that he entered the arena.

The third time was when he returned home victorious. Of course, there were lots of people congratulating him — his relieved family and everyone else — but the only thing he saw was you, walking toward him. He didn't think it was of his own volition, considering you was with your father and brother, but as soon as you approached, you wore the best, most beautiful smile he had ever seen you give. And for the first time in years, you spoke to him.

"Congratulations on winning, Finnick. I'm glad you're back... well, we're glad."

He could see the smile on your father’s face, though he couldn’t say the same for your brother. Not that he minded. So he just smiled back at you — not the smile he reserved for the Capitol, but a real smile.

"Thank you. I'm glad to see you too."

He saw you get embarrassed, and he wanted to laugh at that. But he wouldn’t — not in front of your father. Not yet.

For the rest of the day, he listened to his father talk about how much your father complained about you, because you wouldn't stop talking about Finnick. His father laughed as he ruffled his hair affectionately. And it’s not like Finnick was going to complain.

Everyone said it was normal for girls to have a little crush on boys who won at something — at least, that’s what the people he knew told him. Maybe that’s why, two months later, it was as if Finnick no longer existed to you. You were back in your own world, with your friends, without him. Not that it bothered him — not really.

The next time he really saw you, you were sixteen, and he was eighteen. He was a mentor now, and when your name was called at the reaping, he could see on your face how much you hated it. Most people didn't care or thought that a dead kid from District 4 wouldn't make much difference, since you wasn’t a Career or someone important. Finnick hated it — but he would never say so.

He also remembers how, for whatever reason, you didn't put any effort into your training. He thought it was because of what everyone thought of you as a tribute, or maybe you just didn't give a damn about dying in the arena. He didn't admit it at the time, but he had been terrified that you wouldn't make it out of the arena alive. He also remembers how surprised everyone was by your training score — including him. It was a ten. He remembers it clearly, and you didn't seem to mind.

On the day of the Games, all you did was say goodbye to your stylists. You didn't look in anyone else's direction, but he didn't blame you. If you were going to become one of the last survivors, there would come a point when you would have to kill someone. It wasn't something everyone wanted to face.

He remembers seeing you in the arena — you did well. For the first few days, you kept to yourself, hiding and trying to survive. But at some point — he can't say exactly when — things changed. Perhaps it was when the male tribute from your district was killed, or when you saw a pair of boys, just twelve years old, die.

It wasn't a change that anyone on Capitol had noticed. But Finnick knew you well enough to say that the deaths of people you barely knew had affected you. He still remembers when one of the tributes from District 4 was a twelve-year-old boy - you didn't know him, but you still went to say goodbye. You were only fourteen.

And at that very moment, you had just thrown an axe into the head of the boy from District 3 who had killed the twelve-year-olds. You hadn't thought — you had just acted. Obviously, this had a positive consequence for you in the Capitol's eyes, because a while later, you were sent food that would last for about four days.

He remembers the exact moment you won. He wanted to say he was relieved, but that wouldn't be fair to you. Until you left for District 4, you didn't say a single word to him. Perhaps because no one was looking at you with such high expectations anymore, you felt confident enough to speak.

"Do you regret killing those people to survive?"

"No."

He had to be honest; he couldn't lie. But after that, he didn't hear your voice again for the rest of the journey — you didn't even look at him. Still, when you arrived in District 4, you acted as if you were fine, as if you didn’t care.

He also remembers when you became friends. It was a good thing — a big step, considering that before, you wouldn’t even look him in the face. Now he understood why. Even though it hadn't seemed like it before, you had lots of friends. You were funny, entertaining, and you cooked extremely well. Finnick admitted that he envied your food — and he couldn’t lie about that.

He obviously remembers the following year, when the two of you were mentors. You were only seventeen, but you didn't seem bothered about directing two people toward a possible death. He saw how hard you worked not to get attached to either of the tributes, because if they didn't come back, you wouldn't feel guilty. But when Annie returned, alive and safe, he also saw you break down. You hugged her as if she were going to disappear. And he didn’t blame you for that either. Over the next year, no one ever brought up the subject of Annie becoming a mentor.

When you were nineteen, things went to another level. Once ignored, now he was kissed when no one was watching — well, that was a breakthrough. He remembers every kiss, every smile. He also remembers when you woke him up at dawn to help Annie. He didn't mind; he was spending time with you and helping a friend.

While he was making tea, if he looked over his shoulder, he could see you hugging her, whispering what sounded like a lullaby — the kind you sing to babies when they can't stop crying. He could see how much you loved and cared for Annie, and that always made him fall in love with you a little more, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

He certainly remembers the time he told you he loved you. You had just turned twenty-one. You said it back. And you held each other for the rest of the night.

He also remembers the 74th Hunger Games. He saw your relief when those two young people, madly in love — though he didn't believe in that farce — survived together. You didn’t know them, but you were obviously happy for them.

He also — sadly — remembers the Quarter Quell. When his name was called, he had imagined it would happen. But that day, once again, he saw you. Annie had been called, and before Mags could volunteer, you did. He saw you hugging Annie, comforting her as he heard her whisper "sorry," but you just smiled at her. And as you hugged, he heard you say:

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't let that happen to her again."

"I know..."

He didn’t know. No — actually, he did. He just didn’t want to admit it, because admitting it meant facing the reality that this year, he’d be going into the arena with you. And he didn’t even want to think about that.

In the arena, he did everything he could to protect you, Katniss, and Peeta. He really wanted the plan to work. He believed that you would be fine if they separated. But when he woke up, you weren’t there with him. You were in the Capitol with the others. For the first time in years, he wished he had died in that arena when he was fourteen.

He felt it the moment he got you back — you weren’t really there. He spoke to you, but you didn’t listen. And if he tried to touch you, he saw you despair, screaming as if he had hurt you. And he felt that way — he felt guilty for letting the Capitol lay even a single finger on you. They told him to take it easy. He wanted to tell everyone to fuck off, but when he looked at you, he knew they were right.

At that very moment, he was keeping you company, obviously giving you space — he didn’t want you to get hurt. But when he heard you calling him, he admitted he was desperate; you hadn’t even looked him in the face for days. So probably, if you had asked him to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, he would have — even if he didn’t need to. But he held back.

"Finnick?"

"Yes, dear? Do you need anything?"

"I'm sorry..." It came out as a whisper.

"Hey, hey, what are you apologizing for? You have nothing to apologize for."

"I..." You didn’t manage to finish before tears welled up in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, please don’t cry..." He tried his best to comfort you without having to touch you. But before he could decide what to do, you hugged him — a little hesitantly, but you hugged him. And at that moment, he collapsed. He shouldn’t have cried — not when you were in such a fragile moment — but he couldn’t help it.

For a moment in his life, he had thought he had lost you, that he would never see you again. And at that moment, he decided he would never let go of you — not with the possibility of losing you again. He would never let that happen. He would always see you now.

[scarletwinterxx]

god bless your dad's genetics - choi seungcheol imagine

do you ever think daddy when you see Cheol or are you normal... hahahaha no but seriously this man this man he is THE MAN. my playlist of all Seungcheol coded songs are getting longer and longer🤣 and you already know Juno by Sabrina Carpenter is there THAT IS SO HIS SONG

anywayssss hope you like it!

if anyone want to be mutuals on X, i'm using the same un there😊

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"See you next dinner! Hopefully you got the baby carrier next time!"

"Okay, auntie bye!"

Your smile fades the moment the front door closes, Seungcheol chuckling at your expression. You feel him give your hand a squeeze, leading you down the road to where he parked his car

"Remind me again why I let you talk me into this" you grumble as you walk beside him

"Because they're family, it was nice to see your mom" he tells you, trying to simmer your irritation. He knows it's not meant for him but for the nosy relatives you try so hard to avoid.

It took a while before you introduced him to your extended family for this exact reason, every family reunion they would pester you about finding a boyfriend or a husband and you just always reply with a smile. When you did finally get a boyfriend you didn't even think about taking him to your chaotic family dinners.

But Seungcheol, god bless his heart, just wanted to be the best boyfriend so when your mom asked if he wanted to come of course he couldn't say no.

He already knew your mom so when you got to her place, she welcomes the two of you then goes around dragging Seungcheol by the arm to introduce him to the rest of the family.

It's cute to see your mom boasting your boyfriend, you would too.

The entire night went on like the usual then when it was time to say goodbye of course some of your aunties will make sure to say something.

You're glad it's over though. It really drained all your energy, thankful you now have someone with you. The two of you get in the car, he waits before you're buckled in before he starts driving back to the city.

"It was, but god the rest of them are nosy" you say

He laughs at your words, nodding his head "Your mom showed me all the baby pictures" he tells you

"Is that where you disappeared to? Oh god please tell me she didn't show everything"

"She showed me everything" he beams, if not for his big smile you would've been more annoyed but seeing Seungcheol happy makes you happy. If it's at the expense of your embarrassing baby pics then so be it.

"You were so cute, what are you worrying for" he asks, his hand finding your thigh like it always does whenever you're sitting on his passenger seat

"I'm very well aware I was a cute baby, you know when I see those pics I can't help but wish my daughter would look just like me"

Seungcheol looks over at you quickly, seeing you looking out the window. He can't help but smile at that, his mind already imagining a little in his arms with your nose and eyes and cheeks.

"Me too" he mumbles "One of you is cute but two though..." he trails off

That makes you look over at him, the two of you have talked about the future but not much about the details. You don't see a future without him and so does he.

He's very sure the two of you would end up on the aisle saying vows to each other, no matter how far that is down the road.

"You want kids?"

"Yea, in the future when we're ready. How ever many you want" he answers so casually but in reality his heart is hammering against his chest. He's a tough guy, he likes to think. But when it comes to you, even the little things you do can get him down on his knees.

"Really?" he can hear the smile on your voice, he gives your thigh a squeeze before taking your hand to give the back of it a kiss

"Really really, a little girl who looks just like you? I would love that more than anything. Have you seen you, babe? I bet you'll look good pregnant" he smirks, earning a light hit on his arm from you

You blush at his words, your mind and heart racing at the thought of having his babies.

"Fuck around and you'll find out" you say

"Oh don't worry, I'm planning to"

You laugh outloud but you just know there's truth to his words. Having Seungcheol as your lover will never leave you unsatisfied in all ways. He knows just how to treat your right.

"But how about you, do you think I'll be a good dad?" he asks, giving you a quick look

"What are you talking about? You'll be on fight mode everyday if we have a daughter and I'll love you even more for it. I just know she'll be in good hands" you say

"You're so daddy material" you jokingly add

"Okay back up, let's not go there yet. I'm driving" he chuckles

He was quiet for a few moments, thinking about a few things he wanted to ask "Did you have a hard time? going back between your mom and dad?"

"No, they were very good parents. I was always the first priority and I knew that. You know my dad told me it's easy to find a husband but it's hard to find a father for your kids. Him and my mom might not have been a good couple but they are great parents"

"I can see that" he says with a quiet voice. He knew about your parent's separation when you were a kid. How you spent your holidays in two households, how you celebrate everything twice.

'It's double the love' you once told him.

He can see that even though you were raised in an unconventional household, it didn't stop you from having a positive outlook on love and having a family of your own. And for that, he's thankful.

When the two of you arrive at his place where you now mostly stay, he gets out first and opens the door for you. The two of you walk hand in hand towards his front door but he stops you midway

"I'm glad to hear you're happy. I promise that even if it might not be like that everyday, I'll never walk away when it isn't"

You look up at him, committing this moment to your memory "Me too"

"And I'll work even harder to be a good father"

Walking towards him, you throw your arms around his neck so now you're face to face

"I know you will be"

"I love you" he tells you because there's so much to say but that's all he can think of right now. Looking right into your eyes then down your lips then to your eyes again, he swears he's falling in love all over again. He swears he can hear his heart beating because fuck he's so so so in love with you.

It's taking every bit of his self control not to kneel down on one knee and ask for your hand in marriage right now.

You lean towards him, everything in his mind goes quiet and all he heard before you kiss him were the words "I love you, too"

[mistymisfit]

I'm your man

angst, mentions of past abuse, loosely based on the Mitski song by the same name, they're kinda toxic ngl. (2,1k)

You were no strangers to arguments, they tend to happen more often than not when two stubborn people decide to date. Normally, you could work it out. Sometimes, one or both of you needed some time to cool off and let the initial anger wear down so you could approach it without yelling and think more rationally.

Other times, the arguments could end up with laying in bed with your head on his chest, thinking you were glad to have such a hot headed boyfriend. Some nights, you'd sleep on either side of the bed, your backs to the other and facing your respective walls, only to wake up with your limbs tangled together and find out you both reached for the other in your sleep.

This time it had been different, you didn't know why he got so defensive when all you asked was that he was careful that night. And you were no better than him, so when he started to get mad, you got mad too. He doesn't know why he said such hurtful things to you, you don't know why you couldn't be the only one whose feelings got hurt that night.

"Sure, be careful" You said absentmindedly, you always told him to be careful at night, and you didn't think tonight was any different.

"Yeah, when am I not?" He sighed. You didn't like the tone he used, like he was tired of you, as if he didn't want to hear it from you.

"Why the attitude?" You questioned almost immediately, and that's how it started.

Then one thing led to another, and you both pressed the other too hard that night.

"You think I'm an idiot? Think I didn't see you last night with that guy?" He finally cracks after a solid fifteen minutes of yelling that for sure your neighbors were going to complain about.

"Is that what it is?" You're pretty sure he could see the disappointment painted all across your features, "You think I'm cheating?"

"No I-" He sighed "You know what? fuck this, forget it"

It ended with him storming out of the apartment, and you waiting up all night just so you could work it out when he returned home. Hopefully, he had blown off some steam by then. But that never happened, and now you hadn't seen or talked to your boyfriend in two weeks.

At least you hadn't heard from him, but you did read a news article about some drug dealer's warehouse being blown up the same night you got a call from Babs asking if you knew what he was up to, or if you knew he was okay, recognizing that's the type of reckless stunt he'd pull when he's going through something. It was not hard to put two and two together, even if your reply was intentionally vague to help him. You said something along the lines of: "Babs, you know he doesn't tell me that. He wouldn't tell me he is Red Hood if it was up to him." and "We're not broken up if that is what you're asking". You were not so sure of that last one.

You itched to call him or text him all the time. You even got your phone out and the text ready to send before deleting it, remembering he was the one who got offended when a friend walked you home once. Once. At night, after he was the one who asked you a million times to avoid walking home alone that late. If he didn't swallow his pride to talk to you, why should you? Yes, you were offended, but you were also worried. He had never disappeared like this before, he'd always stayed with you no matter how angry he was. You weighed your choices, waiting clueless until he returned or calling someone with the same hobby as his --vigilantism--. The second option would definitely end with Bruce knowing and suspecting Jason was up to no good again, and he'd hate that. You considered calling Roy but then remembered you didn't have his number. So you waited for two long anxiety-ridden weeks, you were sleeping poorly and eating even worse. Even your friends asked if you were okay.

Until one night, he finally enters your apartment through your window. You want to jump and hug him at the sight of him for the first time in what felt like forever, but you don't. Instead, you stay put in your place on the couch. It's late, but he's glad you're awake, so he makes quick work of uncovering his face and dropping his guns on the floor. And in no time, he's kneeling in front of you, looking up with tear-brimmed eyes.

"I'm sorry" He breaks the silence. You shake your head no, holding his face with both of your hands and swiping away his tears with your thumbs.

"No, I'm sorry" You speak faster than you think. All these days, you didn't feel the need to apologize, and now you do. "I swear he's just a friend, he just walked me home 'cause it was late, and I didn't tell you because I thought it didn't matter-"

"No, no, I know that" He sighs, his hands lay over yours in an attempt to feel more of you, or so that you wouldn't stop touching him. "I trust you, baby"

"Then what is it?" You insisted with tears in your eyes too "Just talk to me, Jason, I can't- I can't deal with you disappearing like this. I was worried sick"

You had to pause a second to sniff and wipe your own tears before continuing; "even Babs called me to ask about you and I had to lie"

I was scared, thinking how easy it'd be for you to leave me, how easy it'd be to lose you, he thinks, come on just say it. "I've been stressed, I'm sorry I took it out on you" I'm sorry, I was hurting, and I had to hurt you too, I don't know why I do this, he wants to add.

"Okay," you sniff, nodding and accepting his reasoning even if you don't fully believe it.

You don't have the strength to push him into telling you the truth. It was a hard learned lesson with him, pressuring Jason to open up would only get the opposite effect on him. Another hard learned lesson was that when he wants to reach out, he'll do it, but in the most dramatic way possible. 

"Hit me" He begs

"What? No." You are taken aback with his request.

"Please," He insists. Why he needs violence to repent is beyond you, it's all he's ever known. He craves it as much as he does affection, sometimes even more, which is why you think he argues with you so often. He needs to hear you call him a jerk, an asshole, and every name in the book as much as he needs to hear you call him sweet pet names.  "I deserve it"

"Jay-" Your voice is stuck on your throat. You can't believe what he wanted you to do, to harm him. Your tears start falling again on their own at the thought of how ingrained the association between forgiveness and being hurt is in his mind, how many times he must have suffered as a kid and an adult at the hands of those he loved the most to think like this. You were aware of the deep self-hatred your boyfriend had, but he had never asked you this. "I'd never raise a hand against you"

He looks up at you, stunned and unsure of how to act. That's what a life time of abuse caused him, years and years of being fed crumbs of love and affection that he does not know how to behave around someone like you. Someone who so freely gives him what he's always wanted, unconditional love, to be taken care of as much as he's taking care of the other person.

At first, it was his mostly absent parents, whether it was psychically like his dad, or mentally like his mom. Maybe it was a head pat once from his father, or Catherine telling him "you take care of me so well" or a few praise words every once in a while that made it all worth it. Never mind the neglect he went through, he would grab those crumbs of love and mistake them for grand gestures.

Then he got adopted, and Bruce gave him all he ever wanted. Completely casting aside the fact that he isolated him from kids his age, in favor of not repeating the "mistakes" he had while raising his predecessor. Or that when he felt he was no longer needed, or wanted, he left to look for his biological mother. Even now in his adult years, if he wronged Bruce, he felt a fight would settle it. And he was never above giving Jason what he wanted. Not that he'd ever recognize any of the parental figures on his life were abusive, but it is what he's learned. That if he lets people hurt him, then they won't be mad at him anymore.

Jason's always been hungry for love, but now that he has it, he's choking on it. You've spoon fed him his wildest dreams, and he can't stop trying to push you away. It's even worse because you stay, you may yell and get equally as angry as him, but you stay.  You always wait for him, and he always comes back for you.

"Baby," You cut him off with a kiss before he can insist. His hands hold your face like he's going to lose you, and you'd think this was the last chance he had to kiss you with how intense he gets. "I'm sorry"

"I know you are," You nod, eyes still closed, lips still close to his. "and I've missed you"

"I've missed you too" He kisses your cheek, it feels almost shy, the way he presses his lips so lightly to your skin as if waiting for you to push him away.  

"Why don't you spend the night here?"

Jason takes your offer without much complaint, nodding before his tears get too much to handle. He hides his face on your lap right as he starts sobbing. All you can do is pet his hair and tell him everything is okay until he calms down, or maybe tires himself out. Then you can finally lift his head and lean down to kiss his forehead. His eyes are puffy, and he's about to apologize again when you take his hand and guide him up to take him to your room. You gently and quietly help him rid of his armor and clothes. He does not say a word when you look up at him like he's worth something, as if he's not way past fixing.  Your fingers trace the mark on his neck, and for once, he lets you. No complaints, no wincing. He lets you trace and kiss all the scars, marks, and bruises you want.

But he's afraid, afraid that your soft gaze will disappear once you figure him out, once you stop believing in him. He knows that if he lost your love, dying would be the only thing to bring him comfort, and that he'd deserve it.  For tonight, he settles for following you to bed, basking in the warmth of your embrace. Limbs wrapping around each other to leave as little space separating you as possible. Jason can be selfish every once in a while, maybe he doesn't think he deserves your forgiveness, but he'll accept it anyways.

"I don't know why you keep putting up with me," He sighs into your hair.

"Because I love you," you explain, grabbing his arms so they wrap around you tighter. The hum you get in response is calm, but with your ear pressed against his chest, you can hear his quickened heartbeat. "just don't ever ask me to hit you again"

"Promise," You feel the barely there nod that accompanies his words,"I'll make it up to you, I'll be better"

Now it was your turn to hum and nuzzle your nose to his chest, even planting a little kiss for reassurance when you feel tears falling on your hair. You know this doesn't fix anything, that his promises are probably empty, and he'd still beat himself up over this in the morning. And he'd still feel unworthy until he's finally ready to make some deep changes in how he views himself, but until then, you could only be there for him.

[ghostlynightpanda]

Im so glad i found your tumblr account! I loved your oisuga fics on ao3, their so cute! Could i ask for a react for seijoh 4 (Oikawa, Iwa, Makki, Mattsun) and how they react when their best friend would admit he has a crush on the sister? so, oikawa tells Iwa he likes his sister and other way and for Mattsun and Makki? I hope you know what i mean, english is not my best language.

Seijoh 4 react to their best friend having a crush on their sister

A/N: Thank you for the request, I had so much fun with this one! Their dynamic is so chaotic in the best way.

content/warnings: Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Hanamaki, fem!reader, fluff, 2.121 words

Oikawa 

The gym echoed with the rhythmic thuds of volleyballs being spiked and bounced, but the sound that really turned heads was Oikawa Tooru's dramatic gasp, loud enough to rival a Broadway performance.

"You WHAT?!"

Iwaizumi Hajime winced, already regretting every life decision that led him to this moment. "You heard me, Shittykawa."

"No, no, no. I refuse to believe this," Oikawa said, hand dramatically clutched over his heart like he'd just been personally betrayed. "My best friend. My lifelong comrade. The one who's been through every match, injury, and salty post-game milk tea with me… is in love with my sister?!"

"Crush on. I said I have a crush on her," Iwaizumi corrected with a groan, running a hand through his hair. "And I didn't even want to tell you like this. But you kept pressuring me to tell you who I've been texting at night, so here we are."

Oikawa began pacing like a telenovela protagonist, muttering dramatic monologues under his breath. "Of all the girls in the world. The fangirls, the classmates, the admirers… My sister. My precious little sister. How will I face my family again? How will I—"

"She's a year older than you," Iwaizumi deadpanned.

"—How will I face her again?!" Oikawa finished anyway, ignoring the correction.

Iwaizumi sat down on the gym bench, letting Oikawa spiral a little. Better to let the drama burn out naturally. Honestly, this reaction was better than being punched. Which, to be fair, had been a possibility.

After a long sigh, Oikawa stopped pacing and stared at him.

"…So, do you like her for real?"

Iwaizumi looked him in the eye, earnest. "Yeah. She's smart, kind, funny—though just as annoying as you when she wants to be—and she doesn't put up with my crap. We've been talking more, and… yeah. I like her. A lot."

Oikawa squinted. "You're not just doing this to become part of the family and get free Oikawa genetics in your future children, right?"

Iwaizumi threw a towel at his face.

"Okay, okay!" Oikawa laughed, catching it and flopping onto the floor like a fallen star. "Honestly… as much as I want to be mad and pretend I hate this, I can't really think of anyone I'd trust more than you."

Iwaizumi blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah." Oikawa grinned, then wiggled his eyebrows. "But I will be asking invasive questions about your intentions and reminding you that if you break her heart, I will spike a volleyball directly into your soul."

"Fair," Iwaizumi said with a chuckle. "So… we're good?"

Oikawa rolled over dramatically and sighed like a dying hero. "We're good. But I'm watching you, Iwa-chan. Always watching."

"Yeah, yeah." Iwaizumi stood, grabbing a volleyball and tossing it toward Oikawa's head. "Now get up, drama queen. We've got training to finish."

Oikawa caught it effortlessly, a glint in his eye. "I'm only letting you date her if you win against me in a spike-off."

Iwaizumi grinned. "Bring it on."

Iwaizumi 

It was a normal afternoon. Practice had just ended, the sun was starting to dip below the gym windows, and Iwaizumi was toweling off the sweat from his neck when Oikawa dropped a verbal bomb with all the subtlety of a flying volleyball to the face.

"Hey, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said casually, dribbling a ball by the bench. "So, uh… I might be in love with your sister."

Iwaizumi froze.

Completely.

Didn't blink. Didn't breathe. Just stared like he'd seen the ghost of every bad serve Oikawa had ever made.

"…You what?"

Oikawa chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, that sheepish but somehow annoyingly charming grin spreading across his face. "You heard me."

"Nope," Iwaizumi said quickly, standing up. "Try again. Maybe in a language where that doesn't sound like a terrible idea."

"Iwa-chan, come on—"

"Nope." Iwaizumi paced now, towel forgotten. "Out of all people? My sister? You've got a literal fan club. Girls write you letters, stalk your Instagram, scream when you blink at tournaments. And now you want her? My sister?!"

Oikawa looked genuinely flustered now. "Okay, first of all, I don't ask for any of that—well, not all of it—and second, she's nothing like them."

Iwaizumi glared, but Oikawa wasn't backing down. In fact, he looked… kind of serious. Sincere, even. And that was worse.

"She's not just pretty," Oikawa continued, his voice dropping to something softer. "She's smart, and she doesn't care about the volleyball stuff. She teases me, keeps me grounded. She made me dinner when I sprained my ankle last month and told me to stop being a baby—do you know how nice that felt?"

Iwaizumi's face twitched. "Wait, that's why you were over at my house for three hours?"

"…Partly."

"You little—"

"Iwa-chan, listen." Oikawa stepped closer now, serious for real. "I'd never mess with her. Or hurt her. Or treat this like it's not something big. She's your sister. That means something to me."

Iwaizumi looked at him, eyes narrowed, jaw tense. The silence hung there for a long minute, heavy with every memory they'd shared since they were kids—every match, every late-night practice, every time Oikawa pissed him off but somehow stayed his best friend anyway.

"…I know you wouldn't hurt her," Iwaizumi muttered finally. "That's the problem."

Oikawa blinked. "Huh?"

"You're serious about her. Which means I can't even yell at you properly," Iwaizumi said, clearly annoyed by his own restraint. "But also—if she ends up falling for you, I'm gonna have to deal with watching this face at family dinners."

Oikawa smirked instantly. "This face? You mean this face?" He flashed his brightest, most infuriating model-pose smile.

"Stop it. I'm already regretting this."

"But that means you're not forbidding it?"

"I'm not forbidding it," Iwaizumi said, groaning into his hands. "But you so much as make her cry, and I swear to every volleyball god there is, I'll spike a ball and crush your face."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Oikawa said with a soft smile.

Iwaizumi sighed. "Just… don't tell me how it's going. I don't need the details."

"But what if she—"

"I mean it, Oikawa."

"…Fair."

Matsukawa

The gym was quiet after practice. The team had already filtered out, the lights slightly dimmed, and the only sounds were the squeaks of shoes and the rustle of sports bags being packed up.

Matsukawa sat on the bench, stretching out his legs with a groan. "My knees are filing for retirement."

"Tell them to take mine with them," Hanamaki muttered, slinging his towel over his shoulders. He sat down beside him, unusually quiet.

Matsukawa gave him a side glance. "You good? You're not usually this serious unless someone takes the last energy drink."

Hanamaki tapped his fingers on his knee. "Okay, so, hypothetically... if one of your teammates were to like your sister... would that be a murder-worthy offense?"

Matsukawa blinked slowly.

"Hypothetically," Hanamaki added quickly, a lazy smirk forming on his lips, but the edge of nervousness behind it wasn't lost on Matsukawa.

"…What."

Hanamaki leaned back like he had all the time in the world. "You heard me."

Matsukawa squinted. "Please tell me you're talking about Kunimi. Or Kyoutani, even. Anyone else."

Hanamaki grinned. "Unfortunately for you, I'm referring to your very real best friend. You know, the one who brought you those onigiri after you failed your last exam. Your sister opened the door, by the way, and completely ruined my life with a smile."

Matsukawa stared at him like he was trying to solve a complex math problem with emotional consequences.

"You're serious," he said slowly.

"As a line judge during match point," Hanamaki said smoothly.

Matsukawa let out a long, suffering sigh and tilted his head back. "You like my sister."

"She's funny. She's cute. She didn't flinch when I made a joke about Oikawa's hair being a national disaster. She's basically perfect."

Matsukawa gave him a flat look. "You're my best friend, Makki."

"I am."

"And you're also a sarcastic menace with a talent for chaos."

"Also true."

"And you like my sister."

Hanamaki looked over at him, this time more serious. "Yeah. I do."

Matsukawa was quiet for a moment, then finally sighed again, rubbing his temples like this was a long time coming. "Okay. Okay. I'm not gonna punch you."

"Generous."

"But if you mess this up, I will replace all your shampoo with glue, salt your lunch, and tell Oikawa your deepest secrets."

Hanamaki's eyebrows rose. "You know my deepest secrets?"

"I will find them, Takahiro."

Hanamaki laughed, and Matsukawa rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"Honestly," Matsukawa added, leaning back, "she could do worse. But I swear, if I hear you used a pickup line that started with 'are you a libero—'"

"—because I'd fall for you anyway?" Hanamaki finished with a wink.

"I hate you so much," Matsukawa muttered, but he was smiling now.

"I'll be good to her," Hanamaki said after a moment, quieter this time. "You know that, right?"

Matsukawa glanced at him, and his usual lazy grin softened into something more sincere. "Yeah. I know."

There was a pause.

Then Matsukawa said, "But just to be safe, I'm still watching you."

Hanamaki stretched and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Of course you are. That's what brothers do."

Hanamaki

The walk home after practice was usually filled with nonsense — fake arguments over who forgot to refill the water bottles, dragging Oikawa's fashion choices, maybe one or two existential crises about school.

But today, Matsukawa was quiet.

Too quiet.

Hanamaki noticed around the third block. "Alright. Spill it."

Matsukawa blinked. "What?"

"You've been sighing like you're in a high school drama. Which, fair, I guess — we are in high school — but still. What's up?"

Matsukawa scratched the back of his neck. "Okay, but you have to promise not to get weird about it."

Hanamaki narrowed his eyes. "Whenever someone says that, it's definitely going to be weird."

"Probably," Matsukawa muttered. "But... I like someone."

"Ohhh," Hanamaki said, like the conversation just got more interesting. "Who's the lucky person? Is it that girl from class 4 with the cool nails?"

"Nope."

"…Not that upperclassman from the library?"

"Nope."

"…Wait—" Hanamaki stopped walking, expression suddenly wary. "You're not about to say Oikawa, are you? Because I'll support you, but I need time to emotionally prepare for that."

Matsukawa actually laughed. "God, no. Definitely not Oikawa."

"Then who?" Hanamaki asked, still not moving.

Matsukawa looked at him. Hesitated. Then went for it.

"…Your sister."

Silence.

Hanamaki blinked.

"…Wait. My sister?"

"Yeah."

"My actual sister?"

"Unless you've got a secret twin I don't know about, then yeah."

Hanamaki's expression went through about five emotions in five seconds — surprise, disbelief, slight concern, and finally: "You're kidding."

"I'm not."

Hanamaki squinted like Matsukawa had just told him he wanted to date a ghost. "Why? When? How?"

Matsukawa shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the pink creeping up his ears gave him away. "She's just… funny. And smart. And she's cool. I started liking her a while ago. It just kind of… happened."

Hanamaki narrowed his eyes, hands in his pockets. "You realize this is the part where I'm supposed to threaten your life, right?"

"I figured."

"I'm still thinking about it."

Matsukawa held up his hands. "Look, I get it. If you're not cool with it, I'll back off. I'm not gonna risk our friendship for this."

Hanamaki was quiet for a long beat. Then he sighed dramatically. "God, you're such a decent guy, it's actually annoying."

"So… you're not mad?"

"I'm not mad," Hanamaki said, rubbing a hand down his face. "I just need to scrub my brain with bleach for a second because now I'm imagining you trying to impress my mom and—ugh, gross."

Matsukawa snorted. "I already impressed your mom. She gave me extra karaage last time I came over."

"That's because you helped her carry groceries, you manipulative giant."

They started walking again, Hanamaki shaking his head like the world had personally betrayed him.

"I can't believe you fell for my sister," he muttered. "You've seen her yell at me for stealing the last piece of mochi, right?"

"She was right, though," Matsukawa said casually. "You did steal it."

Hanamaki groaned. "Unbelievable." But a second later, he added, voice softer: "Just don't screw it up, yeah?"

Matsukawa looked over at him, serious now. "I wouldn't. Ever."

Hanamaki glanced sideways. "Good. Because if you do, I will text every embarrassing photo I've ever taken of you to the entire team."

"…You already do that."

"Exactly. Imagine what I'm capable of when I'm actually mad."

Matsukawa laughed again, and Hanamaki couldn't help but smile — just a little.

Masterlist

[appocalipse]

see for yourself ⋆ sirius black

summary: after a party, you tell sirius how you ended things with the guy you've been seeing because he was a bit jealous of your friendship with him. sirius shows you that maybe he was right to be.

"You're in a good mood."

Sirius looks at you from his place on the floor and grins, wild and boyish. It makes your stomach do flips that you'd rather not think about too much, lest it leads to things you really shouldn't be thinking about.

"Must be your charming company," he says before looking back up at the ceiling, fingers laced behind his head.

He's laying spreadeagle on the hardwood floor, staring up at the slowly rotating fan and taking occasional swigs from an open bottle of Firewhisky beside him. Everyone but Remus, with whom Sirius shares the flat, had already gone home hours ago, leaving only you and Sirius behind in the living room.

You roll your eyes even though he can't see you doing it, setting your empty cup on the coffee table. You lean back against the sofa and fold one leg up under the other so you can turn to face him fully. "Remind me again why you're not sitting on furniture like a normal person?"

"It's more fun down here." He turns his head enough for you to catch his wolfish grin. "Care to join me?"

"Oh no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I should be getting home anyway. It's late."

Sirius frowns and pushes himself up into a sitting position. The look in his gray eyes is equal parts amusement and disappointment. "On a Friday night? Come on, love, we're barely tipsy. Besides, you still haven't told me what happened between you and that wanker you were seeing."

"There's nothing to tell," you shrug.

He scoffs as he crawls across the floor towards you. You bite the inside of your cheek when Sirius hoists himself onto the sofa beside you and pulls one leg up to his chest. There's a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth that doesn't seem quite as innocent as you'd like it to be.

"He looked pretty pissed off when he left," he says, twirling a long strand of your hair around his index finger. "What'd you say to him?"

"I didn't say anything. And we were together for barely three weeks. I was just...he wasn't the right guy, okay? Now shush."

You make a halfhearted attempt to turn away from him, but Sirius laughs softly and rests his head on your shoulder. "You don't say."

"Sirius."

"What? I'm glad you didn't waste any more time on that tosser. He would never have made you happy."

"How would you know?"

Sirius lifts his head and leans back far enough to look at you. His expression is one of smug self-confidence as he says, "Because I know everything."

"Everything, huh?"

"Everything."

You quirk an eyebrow. "Well then, what am I thinking right now?"

His eyes flick down to your lips for a brief moment before they find yours again, but it's enough for heat to rise in your cheeks. You could swear he starts to move closer before he blinks and turns away with a dry laugh, but by then you're not so sure anymore. "That you're bored of talking about this dolt."

The ache of disappointment in your chest must be almost palpable, because Sirius furrows his brow and asks, "Is everything alright?"

"Yup."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

Sirius gives you a knowing look and shifts on the sofa to face you more fully. His knee knocks against yours. "Don't tell me you're hung up over that berk."

"Not in the slightest."

"Liar."

"I'm not," you insist. "Really."

"Did he break your heart or something? I'll break his arm."

You laugh, though you doubt Sirius is actually joking. "Nothing happened. He was just jealous. That's all."

He frowns, then narrows his eyes at you. "Jealous of who?"

"Oh, you know, the usual suspects," you say lightly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the topic completely. But when Sirius remains silent, you let out a slow breath and (as you usually do when it comes to him) give in. "You, mostly. He said some stuff, and I didn't take too kindly to it."

A wry smile spreads across Sirius' face. He looks delighted. "What'd he say about me?"

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely."

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you rest your head back against the cushion behind you and say, "He thinks you, uh...you know, fancy me or something. That we spend too much time together. But I told him that he's crazy, obviously."

"Obviously."

The following silence bothers you.

You turn your head enough to see Sirius' face. He's staring back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, after several moments of more tense silence, he whispers, "What if I do fancy you?"

"Sure you do," you mutter, rolling your eyes again.

Sirius places his palm on top of the hand resting between the two of you and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. "I could show you."

It takes a moment for you to register the offer.

"Did you drink more than I realized?"

"Just enough for the liquid courage to work."

Your tongue feels like sandpaper. "Sirius."

"Mmhm."

"Stop being ridiculous."

"Who says I'm being ridiculous?" he asks, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your skin. "Maybe I'm madly in love with you. Have you considered that?"

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your stomach is doing somersaults. "This isn't funny, Padfoot."

"It's not supposed to be funny."

"But—"

He cuts you off by cupping your cheek and leaning in close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your lips. It smells of Firewhisky and mint. "Kiss me and see for yourself."

"You must be drunk."

"Only tipsy," he reminds you. "Or maybe a little drunk on you."

"You know, you're not half as funny as—mmph!"

He's kissing you. Sirius is kissing you, and dear sweet Merlin, you could swear that the world's tilting beneath you as his hands pull you closer. He hums contentedly when he feels you reciprocating, cradling your face between his palms as if to make sure that you won't go anywhere.

Not that you intend to.

It's the kind of kiss that steals your breath away. The kind of kiss you can lose yourself in without even realizing it, especially when one of his hands slides into your hair, and you moan involuntarily into his mouth.

Sirius laughs breathlessly against your lips as he eases you down onto your back. His fingers dance along your jawline before he curls them under your chin, tilting your head back and kissing his way down your throat.

"I think this went better than expected," he murmurs, pausing long enough to gently bite down on the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You gasp.

Sirius sits up suddenly. His hair hangs in front of his face like a dark curtain and his eyes glitter with amusement when he pushes it back. Your pulse jumps when you see the slight redness of his lips and the hint of mischief on his face. "Don't tell me you're getting shy now."

"Shut up."

He leans down and kisses you again, groaning low in his throat as your hands slide up the broad expanse of his back. "I'm starting to think you fancy me, too," he whispers, words ghosting over your mouth.

"Yeah," you admit sheepishly, sliding your hands up and over his shoulders. "I may have been lying earlier. It's not that crazy."

"May have?"

"Fine, I did lie."

"I knew it."

He looks far too smug. Just this once, you don't really mind.

[abiatackerman]

I don't know if you guys have noticed or not but Levi's stoic personality totally changed when the war ended. For me it was like he was maintaining this stoicism for the sake of his position as a captain.

Levi was the captain of the survey corps. And not just "some" captain, he was actually the leader of the soldiers. Also he was the strongest soldier so far. So if he would have acted softly around the soldiers there might have been a possibility that the soldiers would have disobeyed him. Also the fact that he was short and was from underground didn't help the fact at all.

So I think he used to act rude and stoic around the soldiers to maintain an intimidating posture. If the soldiers wouldn't have feared him then they wouldn't have obeyed his orders or took him seriously. And it's not actually uncommon between Army leaders. I have some relatives who work in the Army as commanders and they said it's normal because if you won't be strict, you won't be respected.

Also if we're gonna mention no regrets Levi I would say that he was a bit arrogant (he was in his early twenties and he was the strongest and famous, can you blame him?) back then. And not to mention he used to maintain his rude personality back then too. I mean he was the leader of the thugs, what do you expect? He had to for him, along with Isabel and Furlan's safety. If he was a softie around the thugs there were a lot of possibilities of him getting hurt. But that never changed how gently he used to treat Isabel or his loved ones.

And in the anime we can see how soft Levi has become, after the war. Honestly I think this is the actual Levi Ackerman! He had to hide this soft side of him due to survival and for various reasons. I still remember how Kenny said the first thing he taught Levi was how to grip a knife and in the end Levi was shown holding a candy. Knowing Isamaya, it's probably another symbol. A symbol to express that Levi actually never wanted to grip a knife but he had to, due to the circumstances.

Also the fact that I've seen a lot of people say they're disappointed about the fact that Levi has turned into a softie, actually hurts me. I mean it's not like I hated his strong self but the fact that Levi is finally relieved from all the duties and pain and that he's actually showing his true self, calms me down. I'm glad that he can finally be himself, the true Levi Ackerman.

Tags: @laevieee @spouseofleviackerman @levisbrat25 @anti-cupid @meowmewow7 @mikabella7

🩷If you want to be tagged let me know🩷

✨Masterlist✨

[arc-misadventures]

Jaune being his normal kind, helpful lovable self causes women like Illia, Terra, and others to fall for him

LAJA

Coco: And, welcome everyone to the first meeting of the, LAJA. Lesbians Against Jaune Arc. My name is, Coco Adel, club chairwoman, and founder.

Coco: Now, since this is out first meeting we will each introduce ourselves, and tell everyone why you decided to become a member of the, LAJA. I'll go first...

Coco: I am a loud, and proud lesbian, I saw some guys, and I thought they were attractive, from as aesthetic perspective not anything romantic, or sexual. But, one day, I was trying on an outfit with my BunBun...

Ilia: Hold up! Your 'BunBun?'

Coco: Oh yeah, that's a nickname for my teammate, Velvet. She's a rabbit faunas.

Ilia: Ohh!

Terra: I like that.

Coco: Velvet isn't that good at fashion, but Jaune was there, he saw my outfit, and said no. Gave me some other clothes, and told me top try it on... and son of a bitch that was the greatest outfit I've ever worn!

Coco: After that, the two of us would go out, and do some fashion shows with each other, and some other people who needed a new wardrobe. It is fun, really fun hanging out with him. So, one day when we're having fun this random woman came up, and ask if, Jaune was single. And, Jaune was single... but, I said he wasn't... that I was his girlfriend...

Coco: I'm a hardcore lesbian! I never thought of dating a guy in my entire life! But, to keep some random floozie from, Jaune I said I was his girlfriend... I don't want to lose my fashion friend, my best male friend. And, I'm sad that I'm not... And, I really... I really want to be his girlfriend... So... yeah...

Terra: You fell because of his fashion sense? Makes sense, Jaune has superb taste in woman's fashion.

Coco: He did, I was looking at a wedding dress one day, and who is at the alter, Jaune freaking Arc...

Yang: Oh you got it bad!

Coco: Okay... You're turn.

Ilia: Okay... Hello everyone, my name is Ilia Amitola, I am a chameleon faunas, I can changed the colour of my skin. So, I was a former member of the, White Fang, I was a lesbian since I was in the, White Fang, and I hated humans on top of that. Then this stupid blond human just shows up, he flashes me that pearly smile of his. And, my body just changed to pink!

Coco: Like it did just now?

Ilia: Yes?! I just looked at him, and I thought how much I wanted to sleep with this guy! A guy, a human guy at that! It's just a crush, there's nothing more about it! So, I decided to learn things about him, I'd learn that one thing to make him the worst person I could possibly imagine!

Ilia: And, what I learned is that he is one of the nicest, sweetest guys I've ever met! He doesn't hate the faunas! He supports the, White Fang! To a point! He doesn't like the more radical side...

Yang: No one does.

Ilia: But, all I learned how a sweet caring a person he is! Then I saw him watch over some faunas kid one day, and the next thing I know, I'm thinking about having kids with him! This it total bullshit!

Coco: She's still blushing.

Emerald: It is a nice shade of pink.

Terra: Well... speaking of babies... My name is, Terra Cotta Arc...

Coco: Arc? Are you related to, Jaune?

Terra: In a way, I am married to a woman called, Saphron Cotta Arc. She is, Jaune's older sister, making, Jaune my brother-in-law. And, for a while I thought I was asexual, I was never interested in anyone. But, then I met my wife, and well eventually I married her. And, I'm happily married! But, then I met, Jaune, and if I met him before I met my wife, we probably would be married with three kids by now. Right now we only have the one though.

Coco: T-The one...?

Terra: I wanted a kid, so I asked, Jaune to... donate so I could have one. And, this is my son, Adrian~!

Yang: Oh gods he is so adorable~!

Ilia: Noooo... Don't do this to me, I've been trying to get rid of the baby craze!

Terra: And, well... I want another... maybe two... N-Next...!

Yang: Okay... glad I'm not the only one... Ahem! Hi! My name is, Yang Xiao Long, and I'm not really a lesbian, I always thought I was more of a bisexual. I always thought, woman, and men were attractive. And, when I came here to, Beacon the lesbian drive kicked into overdrive! I mean come on! There are so many hot woman here!

Coco: It's a buffet here!

Yang: And, my teammate is, Blake Belladonna! How many people didn't get a aroused , and want to smash that phat ass!

Ilia: Preach sister!

Yang: But then, Jaune Arc came around, and started acting like a big brother figure to my little sister! He looked after her, he comforted her when she was sad, he made her cookies! That was my job! But, all of a sudden big bro came in and stole my job! And, that's were all hell let loose!

Yang: So, I confronted him one day to leave her alone, to stop being her 'big brother,' that it was my job to do those things, because I am her big sister. But, he told me not to worry, since I was her big sister, and i would always be her big sister. So, he told me not to worry 'little sister.' He calmed me, 'little sister' rubbed the top of my head, and left. And, I swear to gods... I came when he patted my head!

Coco: Seriously?!

Terra: I'd buy that.

Yang: I don't like people touching my hair, but he just patted once, and he sent me so over the edge that, that's what happened?! I want, no need him to do it again!

Yang: I want my big brother to hold me in his arms, to comfort me when I'm sad, to run his fingers through my hair to calm me. And, above all I want him to spank my ass as he calls me his bitch, while I scream big bro as he takes me from behind! I used to imagine doing that to, Blake, and her phat ass! Now, I want, Jaune to be doing that to me!

Coco: (Whistles~!) You got it bad girl.

Terra: Really bad... Now tell us how you want him to do this, I need to know.

Yang: You're turn, Emerald.

Emerald: Okay... My name is Emerald Sustari. I am a lesbian, least I was... honestly I think I'm not that much of a lesbian, I was interested in my team leader. Her name is, Cinder Fall. She took me in, when no one else would, so I kinda fell for her from an emotional stand point. But, Cinder never saw me from that angle... she's more focused on how she can use me for her own gains. This often made me cry, that she didn't care about me... Then one day, Jaune found me when I was crying, and we just started talking. He became a shoulder I could cry on, someone I could go to for support, or just someone I could be around when I needed something.

Emerald: Then... then his mother came by, and he introduced me to her... And, I understood why, Jaune was such a nice, and caring person. And, I asked, Jaune's mom. Juniper if she would adopt me, so I could finally have the mother figure I always wanted.

Yang: What did she say?

Emerald: She said no.

Terra: What?! But, Juniper is such a lovely woman, why did she say no?

Emerald: Because she knows how much I love, Jaune, and that if I married him she would still become my mom. So, I get the best of both worlds. A mom, and the man I love...

Terra: Oh...

Yang: Now that's a good deal right there...

Coco: Alright... now that everyone has been introduced, we shall now begin the first meeting with the, LAJA. Does anyone have an items they wish to bring to the table.

Ilia: Yeah, I have one... We're calling ourselves the, Lesbians Against, Jaune Arc. But, how are we against, Jaune? I mean... we all want to sleep with the guy... that doesn't sound so 'against' now does it?

Coco: Uhh... cause I thought everyone would be upset, Jaune turned us straight. So, we would be against him, because of that.

Ilia: That makes sense, but in reality... we want to fuck him...

Yang: Yeah, we all want to sleep with the guy to one degree, or the other.

Terra: So how are we against the guy?

Coco: It sounded nice...?

Emerald: I vote we rename ourselves to the, Lesbians Attracted to, Jaune Arc! Where are new mandate is to help each other sleep with, Jaune to some degree. All those in favour say aye.

Ilia: Aye!

Yang: Hell to the aye!

Terra: Aye~!

Coco: Aye!

Coco: Okay, in that case I welcome you to the first meeting of the, LAJA. Lesbians Attracted to, Jaune Arc. First order of business: Who gets to fuck, Jaune first.

Yang: I move, Terra goes last, she's already slept with him, and had his child.

Terra: What?!

Ilia: I agree.

Emerald: Agree.

Coco: The ayes have it; Terra only gets to sleep with, Jaune after the rest of us do.

Terra: ...

Terra: Okay, that's fair...

[bengiyo]

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo: We Are So Fucking Back

I am glad that we are all having a normal one in reaction to Hwang Da Seul's latest project (@chicademartinica, @dropthedemiurge, @shortpplfedup, @lurkingshan). I'm still meditating on the whole affair, but for now want to get into how Hwang Da Seul feels so compassionate to closeted men, and how I also am stuck on the removal of the cross (@my-rose-tinted-glasses).

Shan already linked back to The Knowing, and I keep thinking about how rare it is to see two boys who've already come to an understanding of themselves meeting each other, and also including a bully who knows himself. What stands out for me with Hwang Da Seul is how old the pains weighing on her characters feel each time.

Dohee has suffered the abuse of his father, abandonment of his mother, and dissolution of his closest friendship, and he's just pushing through to leave all of this. His pain is obvious and lived in. He doesn't have to sit around moping exclusively about how he feels, because it's ever present. Like anyone else living with chronic pain, you just have to do stuff while hurting a lot of the time.

Juyeong is so fascinating to me because his exuberance and passion makes it almost impossible to hide who he is, and I will always be a sucker for the characters who love so loudly that you can't turn it off. I also keep thinking about how he has been communicating his attraction through his eyes so often, and how he's made desire known through all of his careful flirting.

The building romance between them hits for me most because they're paying attention to each other. Dohee made food that he realized Juyeong would like, is careful about hurting him in their sparring matches, and went for the ice cream that Juyeong said he wanted. Juyeong heard Dohee say he wanted to see snow, and so he made snow for him!

Now, back to that cross. Rose's post and one @benkaben posted have been rattling around in my head for hours. We know that Juyeong's mom is a pastor, and that he's being sent here as essentially conversion therapy (as Shan already pointed out). It's not just that he takes the cross off before confessing, which clearly shows that he's setting everything associated with that aside. It's that he's also confessing through a wall. It's such a small detail in how you can set aside the weight of responsibility and guilt associated with your queerness, but you don't lose the cultural touchstones: for some Christians (I was raised Catholic) you confess your signs through a mild layer of anonymity by putting some sort of wall or separation between you and the priest. There's something so subversive about having Juyeong set down his cross but still confess his feelings like a Christian.

I am also curious where Hyeonho will feature in the rest of this story. It's clear that he and Dohee felt something between each other at some point, and that Hyeonho ran from it. He doesn't want Dohee to get hurt too badly, and he's observing the growing relationship between Dohee and Juyeong. I'm so happy this character exists, because it gives us three characters struggling with the pressures on them to be a certain way. If we had to have a character who will make ugly choices around that, it helps for it not to be part of the main pair, and it also shows that these boys have not been the only queers around that they knew of.

Finally, let me just thank Hwang Da Seul for not being precious about the kissing. I like that their first proper kiss was their second kiss, and I like that it was awkward. I loved them false starting multiple times, trying to make sure they weren't observed too closely (considering their history), and I like that they built back to it. I know that kissing early means we're in for much pain, but it's so nice to have a show not dance around the kissing, or have it be especially mild. I like when two boys like each other and go for it.

I'm so happy that Hwang Da Seul is back. Every time I watch her shows I feel like I'm talking to someone who understands what the inside of the closet looks and feels like. I always feel seen by her in a way that feels gentle. She lets me remember how scary and ugly all of that was without it being a triggering or jarring experience. Peak drama season is upon us, because we're also about to get Love in the Big City in just three days. See you all on the other side.

[marali-iin]

Sharpwolf (Antinous x Telemachus), is the peak of "Enemies to Lovers" BUT only before "Hold Them Down". HEAR ME OUT-

Yeah, I know Antinous beats the shit out of Telemachus in "Little Wolf" but THAT'S LITERALLY THE FRICKIN POINT. I know I've always said I hate enemies to lovers, but you know what I hate even more? BAD EXECUTED ENEMIES TO LOVERS. They're supposed to be ENEMIES, not rivals, which people often confuse. "But it's toxic-" TOXIC MY ASS THEY'RE LITERALLY THE TROPE. Enemies are supposed to hate each other, to want the other to suffer, to DIE, they have to be ruthless against each other, because they're supposed to have opposite views of something and be hostile because of it. Antinous and Telemachus are literally that trope

Now, if it's after "Hold Them Down" FUCK THAT, I DON'T WANT IT ANYMORE. I can accept attempted murder, but I draw the line at rape. I can forgive the first two thirds of the song, when Antinous plans to kill Telemachus and break his bones? Enemies at its peak. When Antinous plans to then rape Penelope? GET THAT AWAY FROM ME I'M GLAD THE DUDE IS NO LONGER ALIVE.

I'm slightly disappointed that they had to make the suitors literally rapists so they "look bad", they were shitty enough as they were, in the original Odyssey they never try to rape Penelope, and yeah I know it was to build anger, even I fell for it and I get so fuckin angry. But still, I think we as writers in general often fall for whenever trying to make a character be disliked immediately turn them into a rapist, I've fallen for it, some of my writer friends have fallen for it, I've seen it in books and fanfics. It's normal, I'm glad we collectively hate rapists, but it's still a cliche I'm not ready to accept.

And just to circle back to the original topic and finish this, Antinous and Telemachus have so much potential for enemies to lovers. Antinous simply wants the throne? Telemachus is right there, younger than Penelope and more naive, easier target to manipulate, enemies manipulate each other. Telemachus wants to kick all the suitors out of his home? Antinous is literally the leader of them, manipulate him. Imagine both of these scenarios at the same time, both trying to use the other for their own benefit. And that's the point of Enemies to Lovers, hate each other at first, wish for the other's downfall and slowly start warming up to each other, realizing the flaws of your own view and how they're not that bad. Add a redemption arc and we're good to go, the problem with rapists is that they have no redemption (except Deidamia from Song of Achilles, I'll eventually talk about that but just to make clear in this house we DON'T hate her. Suck it up) That's why I REFUSE to work with post "Hold Them Down" Antinous.

So yeah, that was my rant for today, take this as a lesson. I can really, reallyyyy hate a trope, but I'll always hate more a rapist and a badly executed trope. I have standards