#and I’m usually touched by that impossibility many romantics have: they can’t look at life as separate from art

[lafcadiosadventures]

From the Cathedral, my companion and myself proceeded to the Tower of St. Michael, where there is a vault which possesses the power of mummifying the bodies placed there. The lowest story of the tower is inhabited by the keeper and his family, who cook their victuals at the entrance of the cavern, and live on a footing of the most intimate familiarity with their frightful neighbours. The man took a lantern, and we descended by the worn steps of a winding staircase into the funeral vault. The corpses, about forty in number, are placed around the vault, with their backs against the wall. This upright position, so different from the general horizontal posture of the dead, gives them a horribly phantom-like appearance of life, especially in the yellow and flickering light of the lantern, which oscillates in the hand of the guide, and causes the shadows to change their place every instant. The imagination of poets and painters has never produced a more horrible nightmare; the most monstrous caprices of Goya, the raving productions of Louis Boulanger, the diabolical creations of Callot and of Teniers, are nothing in comparison, and all the most fantastic writers of ballads are here surpassed. Never did more abominable spectres rise from out the night of a German mind. They are worthy of figuring at the midnight orgies of the Brocken with the witches of Faust. Their faces are distorted and grinning; their skulls have half the flesh peeled off; their sides gape open, exposing, through the grating of their ribs, their lungs, dried and shrivelled up like sponge. In one instance the flesh has crumbled into dust, and the bones protrude; in another, the parchment skin, no longer sustained by the fibres of the cellular tissue, floats round the corpse like a second windingsheet. Not one of the heads possesses that impassible calmness which death imparts, as a last seal, to those whom it touches. Their mouths gape frightfully, as if drawn asunder by the immeasurable weariness of eternity, or grin with the sardonic grin of Nothingness which laughs life to scorn. Their jaws are dislocated, and the muscles of the neck swollen. Their fists are furiously clenched, and their spines writhe in the contortions of despair. They appear enraged at being moved from their tombs, and troubled in their sleep by the curiosity of the profane.

Description of the crypt under the tower of the Basilica of Saint-Michel, Bordeaux, from Théophile Gautier’s Travels in Spain.

Edit: here’s Hugo’s version. (could only find it in french) It’s a nice contrast, Hugo explicitly touches on the christian “vanity of human passions” guilt, mentions the contrast of the outward beauty of the façade and the horror of the crypt (which gautier perhaps didn’t notice bc he arrived there at night) and mixes technology (the telegraph (!) in his visionary description of the bodies, and his desire for communication beyond the grave

[k3rm1e]

cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave  but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

[sukirichi]

closer | gojo satoru x reader

a/n: aaah my first ask and it’s a request! thanks so much this is so kind and sweet of you 🥺 and here it is! I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it anyway! 

summary: in which Gojo has the need to be closer to you after a long day of hard work

pairings: jealous! Gojo x reader

warnings: none, other than this isn’t proofread! (This is just a fluffy domestic short fic!)

masterlist ! 

The best part about being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer isn’t the power (although Gojo basks in that too) but rather the fact that he allows himself to completely tear his walls down and be putty in your hands once he comes home from work.

Gojo would never say it out loud that the best part of his days is waking up next to you, pressing kisses in your still sleepy face and you whining for five more minutes, then watching as you wobble like a penguin to the shower so you can start your day. Although he doesn’t really ask much from you, his heart still swells every time you make him a sandwich, kiss it and claim that it’s “made with love” before he proudly shows off his ‘breakfast’ of the day to his students.

Even in work, he still thinks of you. It’s quite impossible for this man to stop thinking of you; you and him never left that honeymoon phase even after two years of marriage and a much longer time of dating.

He could be exorcising a curse then get distracted afterwards after seeing an Italian restaurant that he just knows you’ll love. Next thing you know, Gojo flicks his wrist and exorcises the curse in a flash before hopping into that restaurant to look at the menu. Loving is knowing; Gojo takes the time to see if the restaurant would be respectful of your allergies every time before booking reservations.

It’s no secret that this man is completely enamoured with you, if his sappy good morning kisses accompanied with light, teasing touches down your legs is not an indication already. Gojo is confident and feels safe in your relationship and he’s never the type to get jealous because Gojo is Gojo – who else would be better than him for you?

Or at least that’s what he used to believe, until he comes home with a bag of pumpkin spice bread for you, arms wide open and a “Darling~” about to leave his lips when he sees your current predicament.

Nanami is leaning against one of the chairs in your cafe downstairs from your home, the usual stoic man’s lips and cheekbones slightly raised in laughter as you tell him something about your day. Gojo can’t exactly understand the worse falling from your lips because he’s too focused on the way you’re leaning forward, eyes absolutely crinkled into half-moons while you share a strawberry tart with him. Gojo sees the cups of tea have already been emptied, meaning Nanami has been here for a much longer time than he is welcomed.

Gojo clenches his jaw. He’s told you many times you should get a bell so you’d know when a customer comes in, but now he’s thankful you’re stubborn and refused to have one because he can hide in one of the propped up tables and chairs hidden in the darkness.

He can’t help the sigh he releases. He’s late – like he always is.

You’re a regular human who isn’t able to see curses. You’ve only ever known about their existence ever since you started dating Gojo, but other than that, you’re completely unaware of how these things work. It doesn’t bother Gojo. In fact, he quite likes that he can be just a regular man around you, and he basks in the comfort of not having to worry about your safety if ever you were also like him.

He met you when you were just still a barista who helped your boss bake from time to time. Gojo was only a student then who hopped from one cafe to another in search of the best delicacy, but he got more than what he bargained from when he met the fresh-faced and bubbly young woman standing behind the counter whose smile was sweeter than the most sugary dessert you’ve ever made.

As the two of you grew older, Gojo supported you in building your own cafe since you’re so passionate about it and it’s been your dream since childhood.

He still remembers how you’d spend hours in the kitchen trying out new ingredients, so much so that you forget to eat on most days. Gojo is left with the task of literally hauling your ass up upstairs and force you to shower with him. You lie that you’re not really tired, but the moment his skilled hands roll the tension out of your shoulders, a contented and grateful sigh paints those lips he loves to kiss.

One of the things Gojo loves doing with you is taste-testing. He’s not around the house most of the time when you work since he’s a busy man himself, but on the days he actively chooses to annoy Principal Yaga and go AWOL, he’d sit obediently on the counter and let you use him as your own taste experimenting dummy.

When night falls and you’re just about ready to head to bed; satisfied and proud of another day of hard work, Gojo comes home early to help you clean up the cafe and prop the furniture so you don’t overstrain your muscles.

Or at least, he wants to come home early to help you. It’s just that he often gets carried away on his missions and stays behind a lot longer than he’d like because the world of curses is extremely demanding. After seeing that you probably already lifted all these heavy chairs and cleaned up everything by yourself even when you’re tired, and you still have the ability to smile and laugh like that in Nanami’s presence when he should be the one on the receiving end, Gojo is unable to fight back the twisting feeling that pools in his stomach.

Forcing a huge grin on his face, Gojo loudly smacks the paper bag in the table between you and Nanami, his hands resting on the blond’s shoulder who only groans at his presence. “Yo!” He greets, winking when your eyes gleam brighter now that your husband is home.

There’s no trace or hint of anything that could indicate you’re upset with him because he didn’t come home early. Instead, you bow and excuse yourself while picking up your cups and the small plate where remnants of your signature tart had been, and Gojo watches with longing eyes as you disappear in the back room.

Now that you’re gone, Gojo drops in your seat, takes off his blindfold, and glares at Nanami. “Nanamin,” he drawls out. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here – getting chummy with my wife, no less.”

Gojo knows he’s being petty and childish. Of course he is. This is Nanamin we’re talking about; the man is as frigid and stone and he’s as interested in romantic relationships as much as he respects Gojo Satoru. Plus, it’s you, and you have eyes for Gojo and Gojo only, but it’s also Gojo Satoru who’s mixed in the formula, and he’s not the least bit ashamed that he’s being immature right now.

Of course he’s jealous. Of course he’s possessive.

You’re his sweet, little wife – of course he doesn’t like it.

As if reading his mind but couldn’t be bothered to deal with him, Nanami slides an envelope across the table. “Ijichi took a sick leave so he couldn’t give this to you. I was tasked to hand it over to you instead so I came around. It’s not my fault you come home late and your wife insisted I have a short meal before I came home,” Gojo opens his to retort something stupid when you emerge from the back, pretty face tired yet still patient as ever.

“Leaving already, Nanami?” You smile up at him, hand slipping through Gojo’s bigger and rough ones. He doesn’t know why the gesture leaves him stunned, especially when you step close enough that he feels your heat on this sudden cold night. He’s so entranced by everything about you he doesn’t even notice the blond bidding his farewell.

Gojo watches as you turn to face him, smaller hands reaching up to caress his face. Now that his blindfold is gone, his hair falls down to forehead, your dainty fingers brushing them away from his eyes so you could marvel in its beauty.

Like a little kid, he melts into a puddle when you do that exact eye-smile he’s seen you do with Nanami, only this time, it’s reserved, private, and intimate.

Gojo shuts his eyes in the process, nearly stumbling forward, which he doesn’t really let happen with anyone because he’s the Gojo Satoru; strongest jujutsu sorcerer. But you don’t mind, you never do, and if anything it only makes you laugh when he pretends to be deadweight by collapsing into the crook of your neck.

“What a big baby,” you tease with your hand rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion, all the tiredness and exhaustion from his day disappearing into thin air.

“Yes,” he concedes as he follows you up the stairs where you both change into your pyjamas and settle in for the night. “But I’m your big baby.”

The nickname makes you laugh, head thrown back as giggles erupted in your chest. You’ve already removed your makeup, hair down from your work hairnet and flowing in loose waves. Gojo stifles a gasp then, because you’re in his arms, in his bed, smelling like him, and you’re so soft, so free, so vulnerable and the way you lean into his shoulders while he rubs his cheek on the crown of your head makes him feel like he’s falling in love all over again.

He’ll never get tired of this – of you.

The mere thought of seeing you with someone else that isn’t him doesn’t sit well with Gojo. Now he understands why he’s so jealous and immature – it’s because he hasn’t wanted anyone or anything as much as he loves you.

He can’t imagine a life where he’ll wake up to his mornings without your limbs sprawled across his longer ones, or how he may never hear your sleep talks about birds and butterflies; which is utterly ridiculous, but because it’s you, he finds it adorable. Sometimes Gojo wonders how he ever even lived before meeting, but of course, those were days filled with nothing but him doing weird stupid shit.

Not that he’s stopped doing that, but now at least he’s doing those weird stupid with you.

And he only ever wants to share those with you, so he doesn’t and will never allow anyone else to take what’s rightfully his. You’re his wife, the love of his life, the sunshine in his mornings and the sunset of his beautiful dusk.

He doesn’t care if he’s petty – he’s got every right to be jealous because Gojo Satoru never shares what’s his.

When his mind races back to the way you smile for Nanami again, his hold on you grows tighter. You don’t complain when Gojo suddenly presses his lips into yours, a breathy moan blessing his ears once he finally moves on top of you. Gojo runs his hand under your – his – shirt, letting those talented hands of his roam upon the expanse of his skin like an artwork he’ll never get tired of looking at.

“Missed you,” he mumbles in between the lip-locking, leaning closer when your nails start to scratch his scalp as a way to soothe him from the night. Nothing about the kiss is hurried or fervent; rather, it’s calm and steady, slow and passionate, much like how everything he feels for you is similar to a calm, rainy day where he’ll stay in with a hot cup of chocolate.

You’re home – warmth and comfort – and you know you’re his just as he knows he’s yours, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing you like he wants you to never forget that.

You shiver when Gojo’s fingers tickle your ribcage, that spot always having been sensitive. Your husband swipes his tongue over your lips that still tastes like strawberries from your lipbalm, and he groans, falling forward when you allow him access into your sweet, sweet mouth. Meanwhile, you travel down from his hair into those broad, strong shoulders that always seemed like a fortress to you.

Gojo was so big and strong compared to you. There’s no denying he could easily break you if he wanted to, but he’s nothing but gentle – perhaps a little eager – when he holds you like this.

There’s no memory of how you end up on top of his lap that night with the covers barely strewn across your bodies, Gojo’s back pressing into the bed frame that’s witnessed endless nights of passion. His hands then run over your hips, squeezing it a little too hard until you rut against his hips.

“Hmm,” you moan into his mouth at the friction, while Gojo only smirks at your reaction. Even after years, you’re still so sweet, sensitive, and responsive – he just can’t get enough of it. “Satoru,” the way you say his name is so breathy, almost as if it’s a secret only the two of you should know, so he listens intently at your next words. “You’re a little needy tonight. Did something happen?”

“No,” he lies, smiling to himself once he sees your lips are red and bruised. He’s sure he looks the same, but your eyes are glossed over with love that he can’t resist you pulling you to him as if the space offends him. He trails his lips down to your neck to leave red patches of marks that claims you as his – not that the gold wedding band on your fingers wasn’t doing the job already.

Like the good girl you are, you tilt your head and allow him to do as he pleases. He sucks, licks, kisses and nips at the skin, all the while careful to not hurt you or push you over to the edge since both of you are too tired for the day to ever do anything.

Your head drops to the crook of his neck then, arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely as if you trusted him to catch you whenever you fall – and you know he will. He always will.

Later on, you grow sleepy at the way he starts to pepper kisses into your skin that addictingly smells like cinnamon and vanilla all at the same time. Gojo chuckles to himself at how peaceful you look in that moment, draped over him like a tiny puppy who lives in a world too big for themselves, but that’s not true.

You’re bigger than the universe itself, larger than the vast galaxies he held beneath those eyes, and Gojo finally stops being jealous.

There’s no need to be, after all, not when he’s the one you trust wholeheartedly to tuck you in bed while your soft breathing lulls him into slumber as well. Gojo flicks the lamp off with his finger, not wasting another second before he scoots closer, closer, closer until there’s no more recollection of where you begin and where he ends.

He stands corrected in his statement.

He’ll never get tired of this, of you, for you’re bigger than the universe itself and there’s still a lot of space between the two of you that he can’t wait to cross until your worlds crash and burn.

“Next time,” he promises before kissing your eyelids, “I’ll come home earlier.”

[pearlprincess02]

bakugo's big 6

birthday: april 20th

**i don't own any observations**

sun:

taurus sun: persistent, calm, aesthetic, vain, sensual, materialistic, connected to appearance

sun in 8th house: shadow always copying you, mocking you until you master her/him/they. growing into fearlessness. intensity in every step and gaze. third eye shinning.

moon:

taurus moon: natives are emotionally stable and stick to their ideals. it is not easy to change their mind and they may resent whoever tries to interfere with their decisions. their intuition is well developed, as well as their sense of touch and taste. also, they’re likely to have a pleasant voice. they enjoy the arts and good food. They have impressive memory, are faithful, sentimental, and affectionate. these natives rarely fight their family’s ideals and traditions, especially those taught to them by their mother. with said mother, the native is usually close, although not always happy to be. they look for loyal and long-lasting relationships, both in the platonic and the romantic sphere. they desire to excel at whatever they do.

moon in 9th house: you probably have difficulty concentrating in any task at hand, and disciplined thought just isn’t for you. like no matter how much you want to concentrate, it’s impossible. truth is, your judgement is often clouded by your emotions, so if you can’t connect emotionally with the subject, you can’t bother. it’s not a conscious thing.

rising/ 1st house :

virgo rising: demanding, organized, methodical, closed, shy, intelligent, nerdy

jupiter in 1st house: people are very optimistic and jovial, it’s hard to kill their vibe. they are very open minded and interested in people and various subjects, they view life as a journey to find their ultimate truth. jupiter also gives these people a type of trust in the universe that opens many doors for them. they can, sometimes appear too jovial, everything is an experience worth having for these people, even the heartbreaking experiences.

for the rest: ⇊

mercury:

aries mercury : as soon as ideas come - they better already be executed, temperamental speech, hard to structure and plan once the spark of inspiration hits, no beating around the bush

mercury in 8th house: speaking what is on everyone’s minds, what you want to hear, or what you absolutely DO NOT want to hear. secret keeper. obsessive mind. can’t let go of a topic until they master it.

venus:

gemini venus: “you’re my best friend.”, staying up all night talking, listening to them talk about their exs, friends with benefits, long texts, “i like you, but i like them too.”, being told white lies to protect your feelings, summertime flings, “remember when we used to date?”

venus in 10th house: “how can we help each other?”, having a crush on your boss, finally growing up, “i’m not a pessimist, i’m a realist.”, getting bought a gift you mentioned months ago, knowing each-others passwords and pins, helping you work towards your goals, “you should go to bed.”, “did you do your work today?”

mars:

gemini mars : you are driven by communication. people with lack of communication will DRAIN YOU. your thoughts drive you, motivate you. THOUGHTS motivate you. you need that pep talk in the morning. you need that motivational speech on youtube to get you on a positive path because someone somewhere will try to suck you out of your positivity by speaking negatives.

mars in 10th house: your energy boost will come naturally when you reach your goals and you are/feel successful. you gain even more energy based on your status and reputation (regardless of whether it's good or bad depending on other placements) career success especially could give you high vibin energy. potentially holding positions of power and executing that power over others also contribute to gaining that "i am the shit" type of energy that motivates you to do even more. it's a whole making, breaking or following of the rules that gives you the energy to get shit done.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

bakugo's masterlist

crds:

sun + rising

sun + mercury

moon moon 2.

mercury 2.

venus

mars mars 2.

[userlando]

I dunno if you do requests, but if you did a possessive/jealous Tom Hardy (or Eddie, or Alfie.... I dunno, they all give off the vibe) I would I've you like my soul or something......,........

oh god, inspiration strikes again..

Alfie wasn’t a soft man, both physically and mentally. He didn’t grow up in the warmest household and his mother, bless her heart, did everything to raise her boys to be great men when their father failed in that department.

Not to say that she’d failed, considering where Alfie had ended up, but it provided him with enough resources and money to take care of her the way she’d struggled to put food on the table and provide for him and his siblings during his childhood.

Alfie wasn’t soft when he’d done unspeakable things during the war, and he certainly wasn’t soft when he’d taken his place as the king of London. His hard exterior and the amount of blood on his hands was enough for people to fear him. And that’s all he would ever ask for. Because fear was respect, and Alfie would pry out anyone’s teeth with pliers if anyone dared to show him anything else.

Alfie wasn’t soft, but that’s the word he’d describe himself feeling when he heard you laugh for the first time. It had been five years but he remembered it so vividly that it still - to this day - made his hands shake in a way he’d never admit out loud. God forbid someone would hear him spew soppy shit that only you found endearing and romantic.

It was a rainy afternoon and Alfie was craving an evening at the pub after a long day at the distillery. A drink was all he’d come for, but then he’d heard you laugh and his ears had immediately perked at the sound.

It wasn’t difficult for him to locate where that sound came from. Because as he suspected, your face was just as radiating as your laugh and it sounded silly, but he knew from the moment he laid eyes on you, that he had to have you.

You were tough at first, your boundaries and lack of interest unlike any other woman’s he’d usually pick up. The way you seemed so unattainable only seemed to pull unwanted male attention, but the more he tried to pursue you, the more word got around. You were his woman, and only his. It infuriated you at first because you were no one else’s but yours, though Alfie knew you’d secretly loved it. Even though you refused to admit it even years later when the topic arose in conversation.

So, Alfie wasn’t soft. But he was soft for you, and he was soft for your laugh. Which was why his ears - much like that day at the pub - perked when he heard your giggle echo in the distillery. A frown immediately cast over his face as he placed his pen down on the surface of his desk.

He glanced around in confusion at first, wondering who the fuck you were speaking to that made you giggle like that. And his stomach churned when he thought of all the greasy men who were working under the roof of his distillery, who’d been instructed to not speak to you if not absolutely necessary. Everybody knew this. No one was foolish enough to risk losing their ball sack to a rusty shank.

Or so, that’s what Alfie thought.

The chair squeaked in protest as he rose from it, rough hands flat on the table to heave himself up as he grunted in annoyance. Annoyance because someone was clearly not doing their job, and annoyance because you knew better than to prance around at the distillery when there was work to be done. And chances are, you looked absolutely gorgeous doing it.

Alfie’s suspicions were correct, he realised, as he walked down the creaky stairs to the base floor. He found you a few yards away, legs that he loved so much clad in stockings he knew he’d be ripping off later. You had the same green dress on he’d seen you dress in before he left for work that morning.

He would’ve stood there and appreciated the way your dress flared where your back met your bottom, or the way you’d prettily pinned your hair back just far enough to reveal your neck. The very same neck he’d buried his face into the night before and just this morning.

Alfie couldn’t appreciate it though, mostly because of the two dimwits standing in front of you, greased up faces smiling as they spoke to you. As if Alfie paid them to slack off. Fucking idiots.

As Alfie moved closer, he could hear your soft voice ask ‘How’s Claire doing? What a strong woman she is for birthing your lovely twins!’ It admittedly made Alfie soften for a second, because of course you’d take interest in everyone’s life and show genuine concern. That was the major difference between you two. Where Alfie lacked, you made up for.

“Right, last time I checked, I paid you fucking idiots to do your jobs,” Alfie startled the two men as he approached, voice booming as usual. “So, tell me what you’re bloody standing around here for.”

You turned around with ease, having been with him long enough to not bat an eyelash at his vulgar words and flaring anger. His face was scrunched up in an expression that would make any sensible man and woman in London cower in fear, and you placed a hand on his meaty arm in a poor effort to calm him down. And to silently tell him to shut up and behave.

“Alfie.” You greeted him like he wasn’t shooting daggers at the two men who now looked like they wanted nothing more than to bolt. You couldn’t blame them. “Hi sweetheart. I was just talking to Christopher and William here about their families. Did you know Will had twins?”

Alfie only managed a grunt because why did you know their names? And Will?

He didn’t know if he wanted to drag the bastard into his office by his cock and beat his face into three different shades or to toss them out on their sorry arses. He knew the first option would send him into the doghouse for God knows how long, and the other option would cause more problems between the two of you than he dared to think about.

“Two girls.” The one he assumed was named William said, albeit a little shakily. The man next to him elbowed him and they both went quiet.

“Right, I must’ve missed the part where I fucking asked.” Alfie was livid, and there were so many factors playing into that reason.

These animals who worked under him knew to never lay their eyes on you, nevertheless talk to you. And he wanted to be angry at how good you looked, at the audacity to walk into the distillery when he knew he disliked you hanging around here during office hours.

Mostly, he wanted to spank your stubborn arse black and blue.

“Alfie, why don’t we go to your office, hm?” You asked softly, feeling the way he was shaking as you squeezed his bicep gently.

He knew what it was though. Your way of telling him to simmer down and behave.

You didn’t wait for him to answer, turning on your pretty polished heels to walk around and past him toward his office. He didn’t miss the way your legs wobbled, and he knew you were well aware of what you were to expect once the fragile door of the office closed behind the two of you. Alfie knew that the wobble of your legs derived from excitement and not from fear. You could scowl and reprimand him all you wanted, but you both knew that you loved his possessiveness at the end of the day.

He watched you walk away, his anger simmering down just a wee bit before he turned his head to the two men standing in front of him. He sucked his teeth, smacked his lips and contemplated beating them with his cane before thinking twice of it.

“What the fuck are you two still doing ‘ere?” His roar was enough to have them scatter like mice.

Alfie huffed and turned around, following in your footsteps to his office where you were waiting.

“How many times have I told you, right, to not fuckin’ walk in here when I’m working, woman?” He walked in and closed the door behind him.

He struggled to contain his anger when he saw you sitting on his desk, legs crossed over each other and his eyes immediately went to the sliver of skin where the hem of your dress had ridden up on your thigh. Alfie’s first instinct was to march up and grab the delicate skin until you squirmed, but he stopped himself.

He gripped his cane tighter in his right hand and rubbed his forehead with the other one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible.”

You frowned. “I can’t help it if you’re possessive, Alf. That’s your problem, not mine.”

“You know how these men are.” He gritted out, gesturing behind him to the distillery. “You cannot be this dim.”

“Alfie Solomons, I know you didn’t just call me dim.” You said and Alfie paused at the tone of your voice.

You sounded annoyed but he could detect the hurt in your voice and it was enough for him to let out a grumbling sigh, stepping up to the desk where you sat. He silently admired the frown lines on your pretty face and prayed that he hadn’t shoved his foot in his mouth.

Alfie got his answer when you parted your legs enough for him to step between them, and he struggled to breathe properly when you circled them around his behind to pull him closer.

“You’re my girl, yeah?” He muttered, bringing a hand up to cradle your cheek.

“Woman.” You protested softly, welcoming the touch as his silent apology.

You watched as his eyes appraised you and held back from preening when he grunted in appreciation and what you knew were hunger as his eyes trailed your body before landing on your face.

“And what a fucking woman you are.” He said lowly, using his hand on your cheek to pull you in for a kiss.

The clatter of the cane falling to the floor didn’t deter you as he let go of it in order to grab you by the waist, pulling you in closer as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, not caring if anyone heard you. Alfie pinched the top of your arse in retaliation and you squealed.

“Alfie!” You sounded scandalised but the enormous smile on your lipstick smeared lips said otherwise.

Alfie admired his artwork with a smug smile, knowing that his mouth probably looked a mess too.

“Don’t Alfie me, woman.” He pressed an open mouthed kiss to your lips that tasted a lot like a promise. “This is just a preview of what I’ll be doing to you tonight.”

* * * * *

Welp, that turned sexual. But hello! Hi! Surprise, here’s me answering to an ask five hundred years later. I was in a writing mood so.. hope you enjoy x

[kkusuka]

Love your writing and I adored your thick af gf head cannons. I was hoping that you could do a part two with the following characters; Ushijima, Semi, Akaashi, Oikawa, Sugawara and Futakuchi? Thank you!

<3

part one

part 3

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Just the fact that ushijima had a girlfriend set some people off

But the fact he had a girlfriend like you??

No way

No possible way

How did that even happen?

I’ll tell you

It was not the most romantic by any means

It was a totally normal day at Shiratorizawa, classes were fine, but on his way back to his last class he was in a crowded staircase

And you just happened to be wearing shoes that didn't fit and somehow were coming undone every five seconds

What i am trying to say is you fell backwards onto him and he you a hand full off ass and another hand of boob

you apologized, he was shell shocked (and kinda turned on)

And you two just moved along, until tendou got word of what happened

Which led to him getting the full story from the man himself then forcing ushijima to ask you out two days later.

You agreed, duh, and thus began the “ushijima gets everything” mantras

He's not that protective with what you wear considering either everyone knows you’re his girlfriend or he's standing next to you the entire time you're wearing it.

But, he does take notice of a lot of your clothes, uncaring or not, he’ll try to talk you out of wearing some things

like tight dresses, which is pretty much every dress

With the exception of sundresses!

If you wear a sundress he’s putty in your hands, just slip on the dress and you can literally just walk on him, and he’ll let you

Also sundresses are the reason you know his horny language

Considering he is not a man of words, he takes a more physically approach

As in he will grab you by the waist, pick you up and just walk away

Maybe uttering a “we have to go”

Or there are times that he’ll just put you on his lap or have you straddle his thigh

No words, no thoughts, just thinking about how soft you are.

Semi Eita

Semi is a cuddle bug, and you can’t tell me he isn't 

So seeing you at one of their games, specifically the one that he was playing and doing great, he knew it was you

Once he slithered his way into your life he asked you on a date!

That night was th efist day he realized that he wasn't the only one who thought you were the hottest person on the planet 

Que the beginning of protective Semi!

He's the “I trust you, but i don't trust them” linda guy

But the good way 

He lets your wear all the dresses and leggings (bc they usually don't stay on for too long) 

But when he does, he's on you, shoulder to shoulder walking, hand in hand, arm around the shoulder 

Just to let all those creeps know your his <3

(it is also not below him to buy you a choker (aka a collar) with his name on it) 

He is the handsy king 

He’s a good mix of groping you to heavan, and telling you how beautiful you are 

He’ll pry his hands into your thighs and press you into him 

He shoves his face into the crook of your neck 

He also doesn't really care if anyone sees, he’ll do it during parties, in his dorm with his roommate, during practice breaks 

Or he ruts into you in the hallway 

Everyone sees it, you know it he knows it, you guys just don't really care 

Akaashi Keiji

you knew him as Bokuto's friend and he was content with that 

but eventually you guys caught feelings and bokuto just decided to play god

Akaashi, as much as he tries, is not completely rid of emotions 

And all the pretending makes it really hard for him to see you in more than a few outfits 

The uniform, how have you not been dress coded yet? 

One time it seemed especially short and he just turned around and faced the wall until the bell rang

or when you were rushing and just wore spandex and his old jersey to one of his games 

he had to get taken out so he could catch his breath

aka just looking at you made him a mess

and that time you wore leggings and a crop top to a movie date 

and he had a hard on the entire night

(but it was below him to ask for a handjob in public even though he desperately wanted to ask) 

considering he’s turned on when you do literally anything 

He has formed a “i have to tell her i'm turned on, but i don't want to say it out loud” system

First is the staring 

He just looks at you from wherever you are and he follows you with his eyes. Hell look down your body and think out your previous bedroom activities 

Second is the touching

He’ll come up behind you and just stand there. Rest his head on your shoulder and rub up and down your sides 

Third, and finally, is the whispers 

He has his head there for a reason, if you just ignore him (which is hard) he just starts telling you all the things he wants to do to you. And he’ll remind you about how you begged for him last time and how easily you cu for him

Basically he just makes it impossible to ignore

Oikawa Tooru

Imma just say: the reason you got with this guy is because he practically begged on his knees for it 

Everyday, everytime you passed him he would tell you how amazing you looked and how you would be such a good couple

Y’know, pretty + sexiest girl on the planet = power couple! 

It's basic math! 

And eventually you gave in and he was ecstatic! 

You were his!!! Him him him his!!!!!!!!!

Honestly, i think he’s the type to match outfits

So he doesn't care what your wearing because he always looks like you belong to him anyways 

But that being said, if he doesnt have something to match, you can't wear it 

What a diva 

There is one exception to this

A royal blue, v-neck, off the shoulder, skin tight, mid-thigh dress

You didn't have that thing on for two minutes before he was ripping it off. 

You guys were a no-show to whatever event you were supposed to be at 

He’s far more vocal about when he wants to have sex 

Sometimes he’ll just yell across the room that he wants head

But you have Iwaizumi to hit him in the back of the head and put him in his place 

He will bend you over something and fake bang you

Or he’ll pull you onto his lap and have you ride him

He’s just really horny and somehow seems to get what he wants when he wants by just being a persistent bastard

Sugawara Koshi

He’s your biggest hype man! 

You could be wearing a potato sack and hes be smiling as clapping telling you how great you like 

He’s like a facebook mom, he takes pictures of you all the time and just brags about you to everyone 

He also takes the best instagram photos 

He ever so slightly makes you wear more modest stuff (not that it matters) 

But it does help with some of the rando’s who try to get with you  literally every time you go out 

You also seem to be a catcall magnet

And HE barks back at them 

Like “bark” “woof woof” kinda bark 

Every time, he has not let anyone pass

Now a horny Koishi is just like regular Koshi but every so slightly more snappy

But he mostly just attaches himself to your rear and just sits 

He’ll stand behind you and grind or he’ll rock the both of you back and forth so it looks slightly less like he’s trying to bang you

But if you’re teasing him alot he’ll just grab you and take you to your room or another room and just bang 

Either way he’s getting what he wants 

Futakuchi Kenji 

This guy shows you off!

He wanted everyone to know that you are his and his only! 

He’s a lucky guys and wants everyone to know it 

He isn’t to controlling of what you wear but that doesn't mean he doesn't get turned on

(he does, and fairly easily) 

Any kind of booty short

They frame your ass like the fuking Mona Lisa, it should be illegal. And how they accent your thighs and make them look so soft and cuddly 

Short-ish dresses

I'm talking mid-thigh, frilly, like the type that people take the panty shots from. It's just that they are always shorter in the back and sometimes he can see your panties under them. 

One time you were making something in the kitchen with one of them on and he just laid in between your legs and just started….from the floor…...up to your panities 

(like a creep)

Any many other random articles of clothing, but those two just seemed to set him off the most. 

He’s demanding horny boy 

He wastes no time in just grinding on you and telling you how much of a whore you are for getting turned on. 

He also has no shame in doing in while people watch

Waiting is such a hassle and if he could just fick you in an alley he’s going to

Let all those jerks see who you love <3

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's A Love Story, Baby

Summary: Secret relationships can be fun, but sometimes the love runs so deep that it’s just begging to get the spotlight. Love like that is difficult, but it’s the realest thing Spencer and Y/N have ever felt.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X GN Reader (this is my first time writing GN, so if anything seems to be gendered, PLEASE tell me)

Content Warning: Brief innuendo (like barely PG-13) but it's there if you think about it. Kissing...

I’m so so dumb. I forgot about the shower scene when I was writing the content warnings. I wrote 2 versions. So ugh. There’s a shower scene but it’s intimate and romantic rather than sexual.

Author’s Note: I don’t particularly like writing from a second person point of view, but please let me know what you think. I’m still learning & appreciate feedback.

Also..... this is my fic for @willowrose99 anniversary! so congrats!!

Word Count: 2.6

It's a Love Story, Baby

It was in the quiet moments in the early morning that always remind you of how much you love Spencer Reid. The morning light seemed to make him look even more beautiful than anyone could possibly be. You always marvel at how young he looks while he sleeps. His face isn’t contorted into a perplexed frown and his mind is at ease. You love every iteration of Spencer, but sleeping Spencer has to be your favorite.

It’s impossible, you know that, but still. You’ll tell yourself all these lies and will yourself to believe that it’s a Saturday. Any excuse to stay tangled in between the sheets with your chest pressed up to Spencer’s back and your arms hugging around his waist.

Reality, however, seems to have it out for the pair of you. The blaring alarm wakes you from your clandestine fairytale. It’s a signal that calls you and Spencer back to Earth. Even though it happens every morning, the crash from Paradise stings.

Spencer, his brown hair tousled and messy, groans as he puts his pillow over his head. You twist your body to turn off the alarm. For whatever reason, Spencer insisted that you use an old fashioned alarm clock; the kind that’s jarring and ridiculously loud.

“Y/N,” Spencer mumbles, his voice groggy and low. If you weren’t pressed for time, you’re sure that considering the way your name sounds from Spencer’s lips, you’d be spending more time in bed and less time sleeping.

“Spencer,” You tease back, dragging your hands under his pajama top. Spencer Reid has a lot of quirks, like the alarm clock, but the one you find most endearing is his affinity for matching pajama sets.

“Just stay a little longer, please. I can’t stand when you leave,” Spencer says, turning his head to look at you. You lay there in his bed, tempted to give into him. Tempted to stay in this little paradise that you carved out for yourselves.

“You know I’d love that more than anything,” You say, trying not to get swept up in the starry way Spencer gazes up at you, “but you promised me a picnic, Romeo and I want a picnic with my favorite person,”

“You brush your fingers across his face, committing him to memory for the days to come. Those sleepless nights where the only thing you want is to be in Spencer’s arms. Those dark moments on a case where you need to touch him, to touch something that’s so pure and good and kind. Those silent stares can only keep you at bay for so long.

He simply closes his eyes and swallows his words. Silently, he places a kiss on your forehead. It’s a light peck, but those are the ones that seem to be just dripping with love. But instead of his kiss leaving needing more, all you feel is guilt. Spencer doesn’t deserve to be loved in the shadows, but there you were kissing him with the guise of secrecy.

But maybe today was going to change that. Maybe you’ll be able to kiss Spencer in public and hold his hand. Or even stroke his hair as his head rests in your lap while he reads to you. All those normal couple activities were always just a grasp and a leap away. But the menacing foe of the FBI relationship rules proved to be a looming enemy.

“I’m going to shower,” Spencer says. His voice trails off, like he expects you to finish his sentence for him.

“Care if I join?” You ask, hoping that it’s what he wants too. His devilish grin is enough for you to stretch your back and scamper on into the bathroom with Spencer at your heels.

He likes undressing you more than any other man you’ve been with. He takes his time unbuttoning your pajama top. His fingers, though they look like they’d be rough and coarse, are soft and slip down to your hip bone, just grazing the skin. Spencer lets his fingers press a little harder, urging you to spin around so your back is up against his chest. He places wet kisses along the exposed skin of your shoulders; he’s more adventurous this morning. Spencer’s kisses are usually sweet, almost chaste. Usually the opposite of how his hands rank over your body or how his eyes look at you when you smile and writhe from his touch.

“I love when you steal my clothes, Y/N,” He says, his voice still a little husky and you don’t think it’s from the lack of sleep.

You close your eyes, as if eliminating one of your senses would heighten to ones that Spencer is letting on fire. Suddenly, his touch is gone and you feel a lot colder. He turns the water on in the shower and you take the opportunity to pay attention to him. He, much your disdain, dodges your kisses by getting under the warm water.

Spencer, gesturing for you to join him, lets his hands hover over your hips and up your arms. There’s isn’t a spot on your body that he hasn’t touched. Every piece of your being is open to Spencer’s love, but only in the quiet privacy of your apartments.

It’s hard to think about that, as he holds you in his arms. The warm water mixes with the way his chest presses up your back.

“What smell do you want?,” He asks, referring to the many bottles of shampoos, conditioners, and body washes. The citrus scents are yours while Spencer prefers this ridiculously expensive coconut and cinnonmen shampoo.

“Hmm, Meyer Lemon,” You day and Spencer grabs the shampoo and matching conditioner from the shower rack.

He squirts some shampoo on his hands and lathers it up before massaging it into your scalp. Spencer, if the BAU doesn’t pan out, should go into professional hair care. He’s got these long fingers that reach across the expanse of your scalp and come down to place pressure on your temples. You lay your head back, leaning against Spencer’s upper chest. You still marvel at how your head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck. It’s hard to feel bad for forcing him to love in private when his hands are all over your body, silently spilling his affections and feelings with every stroke against your back and every tender graze against your shoulder.

“Lean back to rinse,” He says quietly. Faithfully, you lean back and rinse your hair. Spencer’s fingers come to undo the knot and snags, his gentleness is indiscernible from his love.

Finally clean, you turn around to face Spencer. The water slaps against your back, it’s hot and stings but you don’t care. Spencer, so used to having to swallow his affection, tends to go a little overboard when he gets the chance to touch you and kiss you as you and him please. It’s like he’s making up for all the times when he wants to kiss you in the middle of the bullpen, but Emily's door is left open and she can hear everything from a mile away.

“Your turn, my dear,” you say, taking the opportunity to kiss Spencer's collarbones, up his neck, and over his jaw line. It’s a little absurd how pretty he is and totally unfair.

Spencer, not wanting to sacrifice a chance to kiss you, places needy kisses all over your face, except your lips. His goofy kisses send you into a fit of laughter. He seems so free like this, so unafraid to love.

Spencer turns around and crouches slightly, giving you full access to his hair. You lather up his shampoo and mirroring his actions, you massage the shampoo into his scalp. Early into your relationship, you found out that Spencer loves showers. It’s not surprising, he’s the cleanest person you know. But Spencer loves showering with you. There’s nothing sexual about it, even though the way his fingers dance around your naked body leave you wanting more. Showering with Spencer lets loose all those bottled up emotions from the cases. Your clandestine showering meetings are an intimate exercise where you remind each other that you're alive, you’re still breathing and still hanging on.

Maybe it could be like this all the time, only if you’re brave enough to say “yes”

You stand back as Spencer washes off the final suds that collected on his back. He shuts off the water and climbs out of the shower. You follow, but reach for two towels. Spencer wraps his towel around his waist and squeezes the water out of his hair into the bathtub. Drying yourself off, you sit on the bathroom counter and rub lotion on your legs.

The quiet moments of domesticity almost make you believe that this is your life with Spencer. It seems so real that at times you let yourself wonder what it’s like to love Spencer in public.

As it turns out, your little bliss is short-lived when a loud knock disrupts your quiet morning.

You shoot Spencer a terrified look; both of you can recognize that knock anywhere. Luke Alvez is here, and unfortunately you are too, but naked in your co-work/secret lover’s bathroom.

“Spencer! What the hell is he doing here?” You say, your voice raising with your fear of being caught.

“I don’t know Y/N. He was telling me the other day that he wants to take me out to you know,” Spencer says, letting his voice trail off.

“To what, Spencer?” You ask, growing annoyed at Luke’s unexpected arrival.

“To get me laid,” Spencer mumbles under his breath. His hands come up to hide his blush at the uncomfortable conversation that he remembers word for word with Luke.

“What? God. Did you tell him that, that um covered?” You say, hoping that Spencer would catch your meaning, but he shakes his head.

“Oh my God, Spencer. You need to go out there and fix this. Okay, I’m going to look for clothes,” You tell him, throwing a sweatshirt and a pair of boxers at him.

He puts on the boxers before opening the bathroom door. Luke’s loud knocking gets more insistent and Spencer manages to get his sweatshirt on before he swings the door open.

“Took you long enough,” Luke says, standing in the doorway.

“Yeah. Some of us like to sleep on days off. You should try it sometime,” Spencer responds, getting ready to shut the door in Luke’s face and return to Y/N in the bathroom.

“You’re hiding something, Reid,” Luke says, strong-arming his way into Spencer’s apartment.

“I have no clue what you're talking about, Luke. Everything is fine, I’m fine,” Spencer says. You listen from the bathroom with the door slightly ajar.

“You said you were sleeping?” Luke asks, and you internally cringe at what you know is to come.

“Yeah. Work has been exhausting and this is our only time to catch up on sleep. Actually, I was reading this study—”

“Reid. Don’t change the subject. Your hair is wet. And you’re wearing a sweatshirt to a college that you didn’t go to,” Luke surmises. Shit, you think. Luke Alvez, through all his brawn and muscle, is the most perceptive profiler, especially when it comes to Spencer.

“I just washed my hair and —” Spencer starts, but is silenced by Luke’s hand.

“If I remember correctly, Y/N went to Auburn,”

You can’t hear what Spencer says, but you only imagine him out there in his boxers in your college sweatshirt standing awkwardly in front of Luke Alvez. He picks at the embroidered scarlet “A” that’s sewn into the sweatshirt.

“You’re still holding out on that happening, aren’t you?” Luke asks.

“Um, I guess,” Spencer says, “you know I really do love Y/N. It’s not like it’s just a work crush or anything. Y/N is it for me. Even if I’m not it for Y/N,” Spencer says, and for some reason you think that his words aren’t for Luke.

“Come on dude, just let me get you laid. I know you’re hung up on Y/N but it seems like that is sailed. Spence, Y/N is seeing someone and it’s really serious. Penelope was telling me that Y/N mentioned something to her about this guy. I’m sorry, Spencer. But I don’t think that’s going to work out,” Luke says calmly.

“Oh yeah," Spencer says, trying to mask his smile at being Y/N's mystery man that Penelope gossips about, "but, really, uh. Luke, I’m not looking to uh get. I’m not in business of, uh?— ”

Unable to take it any longer, you swing open the bathroom door...

“I think what Spencer is trying to say, Luke is that uh, he, well really we got it covered,” You say, unable to watch the way that Spencer is utterly crumbling under Luke’s stare.

You pop out from the bathroom dressed in Spencer’s robe. Luke looks from Spencer to you and back to Spencer. You can see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to figure out if his friends are playing an elaborate practical joke that’s years in the making or if their longing stares and hidden smiles were evidence of something more.

“Y/N the guy you’re seeing is Spencer?” Luke asks, not fully believing his eyes.

“Yes, uh. You know we just wanted to keep things secret for a little bit because of Emily and the rules,” You answer, hoping he'd understand why you and Spencer were a secret.

“Huh, damn,” Luke says, still shocked that he missed all those obvious signs.

“Yes and I’d appreciate it if you stop insisting that Spencer get laid. I can assure you that that is taken care of. Thoroughly,” You say, sitting down next to Spencer on the couch.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Spencer says, appalled that his partner is giving his friend very innocent details about his quite active sex life.

“What, Spence. I’ve decided that the team should know you're a genius in more ways than one. Besides, the cat has been let out the bag,” You reason, liking the way Spencer’s blush returns to the top of his nose and down his cheeks.

“I’ve heard enough, um. But don’t be surprised when your uh extracurricular activities are interrupted by Penny,” Luke says before dashing out the door, already getting Penelope on speed dial.

Spencer, still sitting on the edge of the couch, turns to face you. His face is contorted, like he’s trying, but struggling to read the emotions of the room.

“You’re okay, Y/N. With everyone knowing?” Spencer asks, his voice full of trepidation. He sounds so scared, like he feels guilty for you wanting to keep your relationship a secret.

“Spencer, look at me please,” You say, scooting a little closer on the couch so your knees touch. He refused to make eye contact with you, until you place your fingertips under his chin, directing his attention at you.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. I messed this up, I --” Spencer went on. His lips could hardly keep up with how fast his brain seems to work.

“Spence, hon. Please relax. I’m not upset. We’ll make it out of this mess. This love might be difficult, sweetheart, but it’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt,” You tell him. Your fingers haven’t left his chin, but you do move them down towards the back of his neck.

“The best love stories were never easy,” Spencer says, enjoying the way your nimble fingers tangle themselves in his hair, tugging his head closer to yours.

You close the gap, and even though you’ve done this countless times, Spencer can still make your heart skip a beat or two.

“You still owe me a picnic, Romeo,"

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Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed this and again happy one year to will!

I appreciate and love every single reblog, comment and like ❤️❤️

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[cuttoothed]

For the second day of @jonmartinweek, mostly for the prompt "injury", though also a little bit "love confession" (by omission).

Set directly after episode 92. Content warnings for mild descriptions of Jon’s canonical injuries (blood, burns).

*

Things are...tense, when they go back down to the Archives. Actually, “tense” is probably an understatement, after finding out that Elias murdered not only Gertrude Robinson, but also the unknown man in Document Storage—who as it turned out was none other than Juergen bloody Leitner.

A lot to take on board, all in all.

Basira seems to have accepted her new employment status with eerie calm, and starts setting up at Sasha’s old desk (oh god, Sasha’s dead, has been for months), fetching notebooks and folders from the stationery cupboard and arranging pens and highlighters in a desk tidy. Daisy is nowhere to be seen—thankfully, Martin thinks, because she was even scarier than usual in Elias’ office. Melanie storms off into the stacks and there are sounds of shouting and things hitting the floor, which Martin is in no hurry to investigate. Tim sits at his desk with his feet propped up for about five minutes, then stands up and says: “Fuck this, I’m off to the pub.” He doesn’t invite anyone else to go with him, and Martin thinks their presence probably wouldn’t be welcome.

Jon arrives in about half an hour later, smelling of fresh cigarette smoke. Normally Martin would disapprove, but the way things are right now he’s tempted to take up a few bad habits himself. Jon looks...exhausted, defeated, his shoulders slumped wearily. His clothes are smudged with dirt, and there’s drying blood crusted around the injury on his neck; the bandages on his hand are starting to slip, revealing the angry, raw burns beneath.

Martin’s not sure he’s ever been so happy to see someone in his life.

Jon gives him a small, tired smile as he passes, then heads into his office and shuts the door. Martin knows that no sane person would try to go straight back to work looking like they’d just been through a war zone and still with an open wound; he is also aware that Jonathan Sims is the sort of person to do precisely that. He hesitates for a few moments, then makes a decision.

He fetches the first aid kit from the break room, and goes and knocks on Jon’s door. It’s a firm knock, a knock that he hopes says “I’m coming in whether you like it or not”, because it’s not beyond Jon to try to avoid them all for an extended period.

“Come in,” Jon calls, and even his voice sounds exhausted. When he sees Martin enter the room, his expression softens in a way that’s difficult to parse. Is he just relieved that it isn’t one of the others? Or is he actually pleased that it’s Martin?

It’s been two months since Jon went into hiding while suspected of murder, and the last time Martin saw him he had been quite sure Jon was planning to—to hurt himself, somehow. Before that, though, there had been a time when they were...well, close, in a way. Jon had let his guard down around Martin, in the midst of being so suspicious and afraid. He had trusted Martin, when he didn’t trust anyone else, had eaten lunch with him and talked about boring, ordinary things, the tight set of his shoulders relaxing just a little. He had even laughed, sometimes. It had been, despite everything, one of the happier times in Martin’s life, and if that’s not pathetic he doesn’t know what is.

“Hi, Jon,” he says.

“Martin,” says Jon, his tone soft. “It’s so—ahh, how are you?”

“How am I? You’re the one with a bloody great gash in your neck and looking like you put your hand in a fire.” Martin brandishes the first aid kit. “You really should go to the hospital, but I know it would be a waste of my time suggesting it.”

“Thank you for bringing that,” Jon says. “I appreciate it. You can just leave it on the desk.”

“Nope,” Martin tells him cheerily, setting the kit down and opening it. “I know you, Jon. If I leave it with you it’ll still be sitting here untouched tomorrow. Plus, I got my first aid certification when I was working in the library. It’s probably expired now, but I think it still counts.”

Jon looks as if he’s about to protest, but then he huffs a breath that might be a laugh, and nods in concession.

“All right then,” he says.

Martin snaps on a pair of disposable gloves and directs Jon to sit on the desk and undo the top two buttons on his shirt, so Martin can examine the wound on his neck. It’s shallow, fortunately, and the bleeding seems to have already stopped. Martin cleans away the crusted blood as gently as he can, though Jon still winces a few times.

“What happened?” Martin asks, as he smears on antibiotic cream.

“Daisy. She, ah, she decided that I was dangerous. Needed to be dealt with. Fortunately Basira was able to convince her otherwise.”

“Bloody hell,” Martin mutters. He’s not sure why he’s surprised; he’s always felt afraid around Daisy, like a rabbit being in the same room with a fox. But he just sort of assumed it was typical Martin fear of, well, everything. He never thought Daisy would actually hurt any of them. He applies a bandage carefully over the wound, and then turns his attention to Jon’s hand. Unwrapping the bandages reveals the red, blistered mess beneath, and Martin hisses in sympathy.

“Please tell me you went to the hospital for this.”

“I went to a walk-in clinic,” Jon says. “They cleaned it up, gave me some antibiotics and painkillers. They, uh, they did recommend I see my GP for follow up monitoring, and that I should get a referral to a physiotherapist, but, well, it’s been a busy few days.”

“Jon,” Martin sighs, exasperated, and Jon smiles a bit shakily.

“I know,” he says. “I will go to a GP, I promise. It’s just a bit tricky when you’re wanted for murder. Anyway, it seems to be healing rather well, all things considered.”

Martin considers whether to apply antibiotic cream, but the skin doesn’t seem to be broken, and he knows it’s best not to touch the area more than needed. Instead, he rewraps it with clean, dry bandages, being sure to keep them loose.

“How did this happen?” he asks, to distract himself from the fact that he is, technically, holding Jon’s hand. Jon gives a self-deprecating laugh.

“I, uh, I was trying to get information from a devotee of the Lightless Flame. This was her price.”

“The Lightless Flame? That cult—from the statements?”

“The same. As it turns out, a—a lot of things from the statements are real. Unpleasantly so.”

“I—yeah, I sort of figured that out when Tim and I got trapped in these weird corridors for days by that Michael...thing.”

Jon’s face blanches, his brows furrowing.

“You—god, Martin, I didn’t know. Are you—I mean, you’re okay, obviously, but— Have you seen Michael since?”

“No, and I hope I don’t.” Martin feels faintly nauseous at the memory. He doesn’t realize his hands are trembling slightly until the fingers of Jon’s hand, the unburned one, touch his wrist.

“I’m so sorry, Martin,” he says. “When I realized a-about Sasha, about that thing, I hoped I could take care of it myself, spare you and Tim. I never wanted to drag you into all this.”

“I don’t think there’s much avoiding it,” Martin mutters miserably. “And you didn’t seem to mind dragging Melanie into it, while you were on the lam.”

“I shouldn’t have asked her for help either. It wasn’t fair to put any of you in the position of aiding a suspected murderer.”

“I never believed you did it,” Martin tells him fiercely. “It just would have been nice to know you were okay, you know?”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I—I wanted to contact you, but it seemed too risky. I knew the police would be watching you, since we’re friends. Or—or at least friendly.”

Everyone I’ve talked to says you and him were close. Martin had been ridiculously pleased by the accusation at the time, and he feels the same now, with Jon’s injured hand cradled in both of his. Jon trusts Martin with his wounds, his vulnerability. Jon wanted to contact him; Jon thinks they’re friends.

“I—” Martin starts to say, and he doesn’t know if his next words will be I missed you or I worry about you or some humiliating romantic confession blurted out and impossible to take back. He draws a deep breath, and instead says: “I’m glad you’re back, and that you’re okay. I don’t have that many friends, I can’t afford to lose one.”

He says it like a joke, and mercifully, Jon takes it as one, and gives a relieved laugh. Martin realizes he’s long since finished bandaging the burn and is now just sort of...holding Jon’s hand; he releases it, reluctantly, and Jon smiles, lifting his other hand to touch the bandage on his throat.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, hopping down from the desk. “I appreciate it, really.”

“As a token of your appreciation, you can go ahead and make a doctor’s appointment for that hand,” says Martin firmly, closing up the first aid kit.

“I will,” Jon says solemnly, and Martin believes him, but he’s also going to check in and remind him at the end of the day because Jon has a tendency to forget about trivial things like his own wellbeing. It’s just who he is, and Martin’s made his peace with it, like he’s made his peace with being utterly, hopelessly gone for Jonathan Sims.

“I was going to make some tea, if you fancy,” he says as he opens the door. “You look like you could use a cup.”

“Oh, yes, that would be lovely, thank you. Oh, and Martin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad I’m back as well. I—” Jon hesitates a moment, then says: “I missed your tea.”

It’s not much of a declaration, but Martin understands what Jon means by it; for the two of them, it means a lot.

[lilmajorshawty]

I hope this isn’t to vulgar to ask but have you experienced men of every rising sign? More so would you be able to speak on the genitalia of all the eighth house signs in men you’ve encountered? I would like to see if there is any merit in the general depictions of the eighth house when it comes to sex organs

Haha you’re fine my love! I don’t mind being of help!

I personally attract virgo, Sagittarius, Gemini, Scorpio rising men the most. I have had sexual encounters with men of all 12 zodiac signs and I’ve managed to get rising signs for a great deal of them! Sadly I can’t speak broadly on many of the rising signs considering the higher volume of the four I just mentioned being the majority of the ones that come my way.

Aries rising men: in my experience? Sweet, they are very much what you see is what you get types considering their entire chart is a reflection of the natural traits of all 12 zodiac signs in their comfortable houses. Sexually I would say their sexual organs look dark, like literally they have a darker tone then the rest of their body. They aren’t rough sexually but they can be very intense, if I could describe them? I’d say it felt like I was swimming in a pool at night with strobe lights at the bottom. They know how to have sex and it feels good, they are very much so emotionally available during and after. Very violent orgasams and can seem very spiritual during.

Taurus rising men: in my experience? Babies. They can be needy and distant at the same time, very weird mix. They want things at a very specific time and can be hard to compromise with especially sexually. the thing that stood out to me is how fast they ejaculate, and I don’t mean this in a bad way, they are just very easily aroused much like a literal bull. They tend to love foreplay but if you’re too good at it they’ll cum fast. They can be very vibrant and bubbly during sex lots of laughter, but if they’re not laughing they’re usually just super into it lmao. They have very big and long sexual organs. I wouldn’t say thick, I would say more like a long sword in typical sag style. They are very out of tune emotionally during sex so that’s the only downside.

Gemini rising men: in my experience? Sad boys. They got issues and they’re not good at hiding them. They can seem moody, aloof and slightly misunderstood. I can’t peg them sometimes, they seem like they have a mixture of mommy and daddy issues but then they can seem arrogant and self assured at a moments notice. Domination kinks and restriction plague them. I would say the sex is often sensual and deeply attentive in its nature. They want to feel all of it and none of it at the same time. Touch and physical intimacy is the thing they adore the most in sex and I think that’s what makes them so special. They’re really sweet and good natured and you get to see that part of them more freely during sex as contrary to the belief of Capricorn in the 8th these natives are tremendously affectionate and loving during sex. I will say that they get sad or more serious after climax and I have no idea wether Saturn does that or if it’s something deeper. They may be a bit on the smaller side when it comes to sexual organs in most cases but they know how to use it for sure. They are very horny like the goat

Cancer rising men: in my experience? I’ve dealt with some who have cap and others who have aqua in the 8th, for some reason the result is still similar in a way. They can be soooo receptive, they know what you need better than you do. They are present but not overbearing. They feel parental but in a way that feeds the parts of you that felt like they were missing something. I’d say sex always comes with a lesson with them. It’s never just casual sex. They tend to nurture during sex and can be very emotionally deep and connective during. They are definitely the type you spend the night with naturally or hang out with the next few days or unexpectedly end up dating. The sexual organs are usually pretty unique! Some curve, some have like those cute beauty marks on em. They also tend to be well hung.

Leo rising men: in my experience? I found them to be distant, perplexing and heavy. They seem a bit disengaged but can have moments of affectionate behavior and romantic burst that come from nowhere. Sexually though they can be passive, they feel real wet and liquidy I dunno how to describe it. Sex with them just feels very moist and like there’s a lot of fluids everywhere but idk it doesn’t feel like a bad thing. They precum a lot and can be very submissive. They are not horny per say? They are more on the “if you wanna” side of things. So Neptune and Jupiter rule Pisces so as you can already imagine these men tend to be packing some heat. They sorta dunno how to use it though? For some reason they have a very clumsy way of having sex as if they’ve never done it before? They don’t really have boundaries either so you’ll need to make sure to ask them if they’re okay cause a lot of the time they might not be.

Virgo rising men: in my experience? I’m gonna try and not be biased. These men are very ethereal. They are very quiet and genuine. They have this very honest and blunt way about doing and saying things. They carry a lot of pain though and you can see it in their eyes which I will say they have very intense eyes. Sexually? They are VERY passionate. They treat sex like a sport but not a fun sport, rather they treat it like a life or death ring match. They definitely pack a punch and will rock your shit. They can be deeply sensitive and intimate all the while being completely in tune with every part of you during sex in such a way that’ll make you feel like you’re freefalling. The genitals in my experience are veiny, very masculine in the way they look. Every time I see a guy with a Virgo rising it never ceases to amaze me how rough and aggressive their penis are. They are also very intense ejaculators and can be very big on equal ejaculation(my pleasure is your pleasure theme) contrary to the Aries myth, they can go and go and go for hours without cumming so as a warning please try and build your stamina

Libra rising men: in my experience? Confused? They can seem like they’re waiting for something to start but also won’t do anything to make something start. They can seem aggressive but are secretly hoping you make the first move. They are very touchy and very adorable in their being but they definitely can be the types to let the other person take the lead. One thing I’ve always liked about libra rising men is their cute butts and their charming way of seducing you without oversexualizing the situation. Sexually they are AMAZING Jesus. Once you get them going they will really run rampant. They are very sensual and they love slow touching and intimacy. They are emotionally present and can have a personality change during sex, they turn into a whole other Individual. A warning I will say is that they get very caught up in the moment and you’ll have to snap them out of it from time to time if they’re to caught up in the pleasure. They’re sexual organs like most fixed signs is pretty thick and heavy. In my experience the length is normal but the girth is what will really kill yah.

Scorpio rising men: in my experience? Fuck these guys are HOT. They don’t have to try very hard either which is annoying, they literally just exude this strong, mysterious and emotionally unavailable energy that makes you want to strip right in front of them. Are they into you? Do they care? Are you more into it then them? Who knows and they probably won’t tell you. They can be very manipulative and tend to gaslight(and I’m not joking about this nor am I jokingly using the term) they tend to have mental detachments from their emotions which can give them sociopath like tendecies. Sexually they are curious, very control oriented. They want to watch you go crazy so most times they leave you in charge. Riding is one of their favorite positions because they get to see you fein for them. They are senstive to your feelings during sex but don’t mistake this for them being emotionally invested in you, the Gemini in their 8th house is playing whatever role gets you to respond in the way they desire. They are very loving nonetheless when they do truly care for you. The sexual organs are usually very thick. I think they’re the ones who invented the word chode. The penis tends to be girthy and also has a pretty good length to it, and they definitely know how to work it.

Sagittarius rising men: in my experience? These guys are some fucking heartthrobs! I hate to say it but man they are so rugged and masculine you can’t help but love their boyish nature. They are definitely obnoxious, loud and ridiculously dense when it comes to reading the room. What makes them so hot though is how reckless they are with all things. They don’t give a shit. Sexually though? Emotions run HIGH they tend to be very drawn to feminine energy. A lot of guys like this adore feminity in all forms be it in men or women. If you have that feminine glow to you, they’ll eat you up. They tend to have a strong desire to impregnate and the idea of being connected and having that sort of emotional receptivity with the person their fucking drives them wild. They are very intense sexually and can be very overwhelming the first few times mainly because adjusting to them is impossible, you never know what emotional spectrum you’ll get. Their sexual organs aren’t that big, sometimes they can be girthy but most times long and or average size tends to be what I see more. Are they good at using it? Yeah, you’ll fall asleep right after trust me.

Capricorn rising men: in my experience? They are very unassuming. They are so fucking calm, so fucking unmoved and so fucking ahead of you every time. They don’t rush things and can really make you feel so comfortable with how respectful and real they are. They have a very boy next door or upstairs neighbor vibe to them. Sleeping with them feels naughty sometimes other times it feels like it was a long build up. Sexually they are exhibitionist. They definitely will fill the hell out of you with their more modest persona at first. They want to enjoy all parts of your body but they also want the show to be about them. They want to hear you want them, how good they make you feel, they want it to feel like a performance where the crowd is watching. And dare I say they are constantly mastering their art, sex gets better and better and better with them. There’s never a dull moment and every time they have sex with you it gets more personal, more intense, more all consuming. They have a high libido and they are practically insatiable. They are selfish but I will say this, if you can’t get them off they definitely will do it themselves. Their sexual organs are often brighter than the other parts of their body. Very pretty too look at and also a bit on the hairy side.

Aquarius rising men: In my experience? They can seem really standoffish and for a good reason. They tend not to like ignorance and the more they see you trying hard to relate to them the less they’ll acknowledge you. They like the idea of someone who is down for them but not the idea of someone who is groveling, don’t and I mean don’t by any means act like a fan. They tend to run hot and cold for ever even if they like you. Sexually they can be meticulously planning the whole thing. The meet up, the positions, the foreplay all of it. They tend to need warnining or to know both parties had time to clean up. They’re not ones for sex on the fly or random sex as it can lead to a lot of unnecessary accidents. They’re attentive and very much the types to make you feel like you’re clay and you’re being sculpted into something magnificent. Their amazing at sex, they are like gallileo, or Mozart when it comes to the act. They move around your body like a serpent, then a leaf in the wind, than rain touching your skin. They are more focused on your pleasure than theirs so orgasms/reaching climax can be tough for them. The sexual organs are pretty small or average in most cases. If mars/Jupiter or Neptune/Uranus is there that augments things.

Pisces rising men: In my experience? They are definitely ass men. Everything revolves around booty. They are definitely soft and very sweet, but they have a sweetness to them that is fake. The real them is far more serious and self aware then they give off. They know what they’re doing and they know what you’re doing, so don’t ever be fooled by the veil they put up. They’re incredible receptive and sensitive and a lot of their internal feelings come out at some point just not at the moment it needs to. Sexually they can very hotel sex types. Like I don’t know how to really explain it and it’s so opposite of what you would expect of libra but they are very impersonal people. Like sex can feel very romantic and as if they are treating you like a significant other but something about it is detached, far away and unavailable. They are good at creating the engagement aspect of sex but can fall short at the emotional part which is semi-strange considering what you’ll get up to that point. They are very experienced but at the same time they may need to be taught to connect a little deeper or to open up more. They have very soft and gentle sexual styles that will still make you feel cared for but sometimes in the back of it all you’ll still feel that “I’m fucking a stranger” vibe. Their sexual organs tend to be very beautiful, nice length and nice width. They’ll definitely be a lot better at the sex part once you guys are committed though.

So obviously this is a general word of mouth and does not take into account planets being in the 8th house nor does it mention decans which can greatly alter much of what I’ve said. And honestly you can apply the decan rule here if you’d like! Simply use the decan lord so if they’re a third decan Virgo rising and have Aries in the third decan in their 8th house which is Aries/Sagittarius: you would mix those interpretations. Anyways hope this helps love.

[archived-kin]

arcade date with levi (with a twist)

note from kin: the twist is that, rather than just meeting up and going to an arcade for a date, you and levi are actually characters from two different games in the arcade that come to life at night and go on cute romantic hijinks together! (wreck-it-ralph au essentially)

you, simeon, and luke are from a battle game, levi and his brothers are from a side scrolling platformer, solomon is the tutorial dude in an experimental alchemy game, diavolo is the owner of the arcade, and barbatos is the janitor! your character’s costume is basically the same as caesar’s from jojo’s bizarre adventure, and you’re kind of the pseudo-leader of your game’s characters

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, leviathan, luke, simeon, lucifer, solomon

pairing(s): levi/reader

warning(s): guns, non-descriptive injury

genre: fluff

“Lights out!”

You cheer and hop out of your character selection box, stretching out your cramped limbs, then sitting down with a huff. Beside you, Simeon falls out onto the floor in a tangled heap of cape.

“Thank goodness,” He sighs, turning around and lying flat on his back. “Is it just me, or were our patrons picking me far more than usual today…?”

Luke carefully slides out of his own box, landing neatly on his feet with a little flourish. “Yeah, normally [Name]’s the crowd favourite…”

“It’s all those new promotional posters, I bet,” You hum, pulling off your headband and fanning yourself with one hand. “Seems like Diavolo’s really been pushing the angel series lately.”

“I wouldn’t call it a series,” Simeon says, chuckling slightly as he undoes his fancy cape. “There’s only two of us, after all.”

“Well, you’re the only ones out of us who actually have a theme between them,” says another one of your fellow fighters, taking off his hat and twirling it around a finger. “Anyway - [Name], shouldn’t you be going off to meet that loverboy of yours soon?”

“Oh, right!” You jump to your feet, dusting off your pants. Then you pause, raising your hands to pat at your face. “Wait, do my triangles look okay?”

“Your triangles look fine,” Simeon sighs, reaching over and tapping fondly at the little patches of paint on your cheek. “They always do.”

“Alright!” You adjust your scarf and throw the ends over your shoulder, tying your headband around your wrist. “I’ll be off, then! You guys know the drill, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, boss,” calls one of the younger fighters, hunched over in front of his box and scratching restlessly at the tip of his nose. “Not like we haven’t been doing it every day.”

“Don’t get cheeky,” You scold, but give his pompadour an affectionate pat on your way past anyway. It feels almost concerningly solid beneath your touch. “I’ll be back before morning!”

Your fellow fighters give a collective murmur of assent that’s abruptly cut off as you open the network door and hop into a wire. You’ve gone on this path so many times that it’s practically muscle memory at this point - six sections ahead, then to the left twice, a right at the purple junction, and then another four sections forwards.

The Tale of the Seven Lords’s network door is already open when you jump out of the wire, and the first thing you see when you poke your head in is Lucifer polishing one of the transport tubes used to get between levels. He’s discarded the fancy coat that he has to wear all the time as part of his character costume, and you don’t blame him - you couldn’t imagine even just running for five minutes or so with that one, let alone jumping about and punching at things for about fifteen minutes at a time, often longer.

“Lovely evening, Lucifer,” You greet brightly. He pauses in his work for a moment, then turns to look at you.

You’ve never gotten the feeling that he particularly likes you, but you’ve been trying your best to stay on his good side - after all, one must need the eldest’s blessing to date one of their younger brother. And your efforts must have paid off, too, because the corner of his mouth actually lifts slightly when he sees you grinning at him around the side of the door.

“[Name],” He says with a nod. “Levi’s up on Level Six.”

“Right!” You skip inside and shut the door behind you. “Good day?”

“About as good as it can get, I suppose,” He sighs, and you silently cheer. Willing small talk - that’s progress! “Most of our players for today picked either Belphie or Satan, so I got to take a break of sorts.”

You’ll never understand why some of characters in this arcade dislike actually being played so much - after all, isn’t that your entire purpose? Still, if Lucifer’s happy about not being picked, you’ll be happy for him as well. “That’s good!”

“Indeed,” He says, allowing a rare proper smile. He pulls back from the transport tube. “Up you go, then. Levi’s been restless all day - excited, no doubt.”

“He’s so cute,” You coo, adjusting your headband around your wrist to make sure it doesn’t slip off. “We go on dates all the time, but he’s still just as enthusiastic every time.”

“As Asmo likes to say, I suppose that each date should be just as exciting as the first,” Lucifer says evenly as you hop up into the transport tube, taking care not to get the freshly-polished metal grubby. “At any rate… Levi seems to be happy. So I suppose you must be doing something right.”

“What a wonder, right?” You reply with a laugh, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I’ll have him back before first light. Promise.”

“If you say so,” He says dryly, and stands back as the transport tube sends you up.

Just as Lucifer said, Levi is bustling about on Level Six, accompanied by Belphie, who’s having a whale of a time snoozing on one of the platforms and letting his brother do all the work restocking the power-up bricks. Levi abruptly straightens up as soon as you pop out of the transport tube, as if he can sense your presence immediately, and turns to see you waving happily up at him.

His face immediately lights up, and he hops down from the brick he’s standing on with a goofy jump sound effect, landing beside you with a slightly wobbly grin. Slightly out of breath, he greets, “Hi.”

“Hi,” You repeat back to him, kissing his cheek. From up on his platform, Belphie makes an exaggerated retching noise.

Levi absent-mindedly chucks an inactive supersize star behind him at the sound, and it hits Belphie directly in the forehead with a high-pitched ping, sending him toppling backwards off the platform. Luckily, fall damage isn’t programmed into this game, so he lands on his back with nothing but his pride hurt.

“Ready to go?” You ask, disregarding the rather thunderous-looking brother behind your partner. Levi nods eagerly.

“Yeah! Belphie can take the rest of my bricks. He’s barely done anything so far.”

“It’s not my fault so many people picked me today,” Belphie groans, getting up and catching the rest of the power-ups that Levi tosses his way. “I’m tired…”

“You’re always tired,” Levi replies, shaking his head. “Get Beel to do it if you’re so desperate to sleep.”

“Maybe I will,” is Belphie’s final retort before you and Levi disappear back down the transport tube.

Passing Lucifer at Level One again, the two of you slip out through the network door and hop into the wires. Your destination today is the Suspect Sorceror’s abode - one of your regular date spots, and one of your particular favourites.

Despite the fact that the two of you see each other pretty much every day as soon as it’s lights out, there’s always a fresh kind of thrill to the prospect of spending time with Levi, no matter how much you do. It’s kind of like your heart grows wings every time you’re around him - you can’t help but feel all light and fluttery inside.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone - heck, you didn’t even know it was possible for you to feel like this! Every character in this arcade is programmed with a set personality that’s simply impossible to break away from. In some cases, some characters are reduced to such one-dimensional traits that they can only ever respond to anything with one of a predictable and very limited number of possible reactions.

Incidentally, your code has established you as a rather boisterous and confident person who doesn’t always think before they punch, while Levi’s has always dictated him as rather self-conscious and insecure, but passionate about his interests. Neither of you have ever been programmed with anything close to the sort of AI that would be required for you to develop your own feelings separate of your codes - and yet, somehow, you have.

You’ve never pretended to understand your own existence. You’ve not very smart, after all; where your programmers gave you excellent fighting spirit and leadership skills and an unwavering sense of determined justice, they seem to have forgotten to give you very many brain cells. Even so, you’re fully aware of the impossibility of the nature of yours and Levi’s relationship.

Still, your philosophy has always been that worrying about the little things never benefits anyone in the long run. Well, this might not be a little thing, but if there’s anything you’re good at, it’s goofing off to avoid getting too dismal.

You hop out of the wire as soon you’ve reach your destination, landing neatly on your feet with your arms spread wide in a rather flamboyant flourish. Levi scrambles to follow suit, but loses his balance on his way out and immediately starts heading directly for the floor; you quickly dart forward and catch him by the arms.

Levi’s panicked eyes dart up to meet your own, and before you’re even fully aware of what you’re doing, you deftly lift him into the air and give him a smooth twirl, then set him on solid ground once more. His knees immediately nearly give out beneath him, and you have to reach forward to catch him again before he takes a tumble.

“Wh-wh-wh—” Levi’s entire face is a bright, burning red. You’re pretty sure you can actually see smoke coming out of his ears. “You— huh?”

It’s just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen; you can’t help but lean forward to plant a kiss on the very tip of his nose. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to have been the right move, because Levi immediately goes stock still, then abruptly slaps his hands to his face.

“You alright?” You ask, crouching down with him as he slowly sinks down to the ground, practically steaming. You can’t help but laugh, feeling a little bad for flustering him so much. “Caught you off-guard, huh? Sorry.”

Levi shakes his head silently, then finally pulls his hands away from his face. His blush has calmed somewhat - it had been so aggressive that it almost looked like a rash before, but now it’s more of a sort of reddish dust - and he’s looking you in the eyes again.

“Y-y-you can’t just do stuff like that out of nowhere,” He says finally, leaning forward and dropping his forehead on your shoulder. “I have to prepare myself first…”

“Aw, that’s no fun,” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and rock him back and forth slightly. “You'll get used to it eventually!”

“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” He mumbles into the sleeve of your jacket, though you do notice that he’s deliberately pressing himself closer to you. “Well, you would if I had a heart.”

“You’re so cute,” You chuckle, pressing another kiss to the crown of his head. “C’mon, we’ve still got a date to finish!”

You give Levi another five minutes or so to get his face back to its usual colour and calm himself down, and he’s pretty much back to normal by the time the two of you step hand-in-hand into Solomon’s little alchemy hut - you with a wide grin on your face and him with a slightly shaky smile. Unfortunately, it seems that date night isn’t going to be going smoothly today, because Solomon is currently being held at gun-point by a character you’ve never seen before.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” crows the strange little man, brandishing one of his two revolvers in yours and Levi’s direction. You instinctively step in front of your partner, steeling your fists in case you need to fight. “Two lovebirds, is it?”

“Evening,” Solomon greets, not looking in the least bit fazed by the barrel he’s currently staring down.

“Who's this?” You ask in reply.

Solomon sighs and leans forward on his counter, ignoring the threatening click of the gun that the little man has pointed at him. “He’s from that shoot-em-up game a couple consoles down. No idea why he’s decided to show up here.”

You wrinkle your nose, reaching behind you to give Levi a reassuring tap on the arm before stepping forward. The little man watches you cautiously, keeping one gun carefully trained directly on your head.

“Your bullets aren’t going to work on me,” You say matter-of-factly. “I haven’t been programmed to take damage when a bullet hits me.”

“Won’t work on you, eh?” He raises an eyebrow. “How about your beau over there?”

You narrow your eyes. “He isn’t any of your business.”

Of course, you know full well that Levi’s game features projectiles that he certainly takes damage from, and while you don’t know if that extends to bullets from this man’s guns, you don’t want to risk it. You, on the other hand, have only ever taken damage from the punches and kicks your fellow fighters throw at you - or the beams of light Simeon and Luke shoot for their respective ultimates.

The man grins, and you note that he’s missing one of his front teeth. “So you won’t mind if I just fire a little bit at him—”

Your arm shoots forward before you even fully register it, and the man careens backwards with a cry as your fist lands directly in his face. The gun he’d been raising to point at Levi clatters to the floor and lets out a shot into one of the walls; Solomon winces.

“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?” You scowl, striding forward and planting a foot on the little man’s stomach. He struggles under your boot’s heel, cursing. “First you spoil our date, and now you’re threatening my partner. You’re really starting to piss me off.”

“If you’re going to start a fight, take it outside,” Solomon intervenes, shaking his head. “I’ve got far too many glass bottles in here to risk letting you have a battle in here.”

“Doesn’t matter where I fight as long as I get a good punch in,” You smirk, folding your arms across your chest slightly and glaring down at the man as he scrabbles at your boot, attempting to wrench it off of him. “So, what’ll it be? Either you get your guns and scram, or we can brawl right here and now.”

The man responds by reaching to grab the gun he’d been aiming at Solomon earlier and firing a shot at your face. You jerk back in surprise, foot lifting, and he immediately scrambles out from beneath your foot, pointing up at you with a gleeful laugh.

“See how you like that!” He exclaims. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

You slowly reach up to press your fingers to where the bullet struck you, directly in the forehead. Solomon raises an eyebrow, while Levi calls out your name frantically, stepping forward with his hands outstretched.

You shake your head as the man laughs, holding up a hand to stop Levi. “Stay there. I’ve got this under control.”

“Huh?” The man’s grin fades as you pass your hand over the hole, only for it to be gone when your hand moves away. “What the—?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” You ask, looming over him as he frantically attempts to back away. He gulps, fumbling with his gun, but before he can try to fire another round, you knock the gun out of his hand with a swift punch. “Your bullets don’t work on me, pal.”

He turns as if to run, but your leg immediately darts out to trip him, and he tumbles forward onto the boards of Solomon’s hut with a muffled yell. This time you plant your foot directly on his neck, setting a single hand on your hip.

“I’m only going to say this once,” You begin, staring him dead in the eyes. “So listen up - got it?”

The man attempts to protest, but your heel only presses harder into his throat, and he has no choice but to give his gurgled assent. You smile, but it’s a menacing expression.

“This game is under my protection,” You say firmly. “You don’t come in here and start threatening to shoot up the place - and you most definitely don’t point the gun at my partner. Got it?”

He gurgles again. You nod in satisfaction. “Then we’re all in understanding here. Now scram.”

You lift your foot, and he immediately fumbles to get to his feet. You stay on your toes, prepared for him to attempt to go for his guns again, but he only gives you one last terrified look before turning and booking it out the door, tail between his legs.

You stare after him at the swinging door. The hut is silent for a moment more.

Finally, Levi says, eyes wide, “I think that was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

[binniesthighs]

what you heard | reader x changjin

a/n: hi. its missing changjin hours also now I am addicted to poly r/ship fics so here is what my brain came up with hehe (pic creds to OPs!) 

what you heard | reader x changjin 

Pairing: self insert, hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader x seo changbin 

Genre: smut w/ fluffy tones 

Tags: poly r/ship, comfort fic, outdoors sex, friends to lovers, discovery of feelings, idiots in love, with a lil bit of comedy, college au, teehee switch!changbin, switch!hyunjin, switch!reader, they’re all kinda fighting for dominance muhaha (its those bestie vibes ahaha), bratty behavior on all sides, jinnie kinda flips a switch when he gets in the mood (hehe pun intended), spitroasing (r), unprotected sex (stay safe!), sex under the stars hehe, penetration and fingering (r), oral (r & m), face fucking, cumshot, cum eating, that good, good makin’ out, soft and intimate body touching hell yeah, fluffy ending

Word count: 6.8k 

Recommended listening: what you heard by Sonder 

If there was something that you and your two bestfriends were the best at, it was getting your heart broken. 

Hopeless romantics you all were, in one way or another. In fact, it would take even more than your set of three hands to count the number of times that the three of you had come over with a broken heart, seeking ice cream, hugs, or plates to break. 

Changbin was the kind to fall in love slowly, but when he did, it consumed him, and everything that he was. He would become convinced that there was no one better for him in the whole world. He would spend sleepless night writing songs and poetry about those who would occupy his mind. Changbin would write love letter after love letter to never send them, or to have them crinkled into papery balls, and slam-dunked into his waste bin. He would often joke that he was ready to love someone, but he just didn’t quite know how to. Under it all, you and Hyunjin knew that he must’ve been scared if they didn’t love him back. 

Hyunjin fell in love with people at the drop of a hat. It was his “fatal flaw” as he liked to to joke about too. The gorgeous blond man would fall in love over hearts scribbled on coffee cups, smiles in passing, and compliments on days when he had caught the bus late. This man was the kind to sing love songs loudly in the shower no matter who heard him, and would often have a new crush by the week. Unlike Changbin, he had no fear when it came to confessing, but had even worse luck getting someone to take his words seriously. Hyunjin had too much love to give, and never received enough back. 

You, on the other hand, delayed love for as long as you could, no matter how much that you would dream of it. Love came to you in the forms of movies and books, fictional characters and song lyrics. You wrote about the love you had to give in countless journals and on the back of sticky-notes that had been used on the front-side. Love was more of an abstract concept to you. It was never something that you could touch but rather dream about. However, while this wasn’t the worst way to view it all, you still thirsted for something more. A hand to hold, a warm body to tangle up in the sheets with you. 

On this day in particular, you and your friends had gathered for a meeting: your “Unofficial Lonely Hearts Club” as you called it. You couldn’t recall who had called the meeting after the long week that you had, but it was likely what each of you had needed. 

These nights would often start the same: the three of you shoved into Changbin’s pickup, windows down, night air in your lungs, some song on the stereo that Changbin had been into these days. The three of you lived in the typical college city nestled into the side of some mountainside--a stark contrast to where you had come from before. It was the kind of place where people went to forget about who they were before to become new people. For some reason, some crazy fraction of the people who moved there, never left. 

First chance you got, you would move the hell out of there: a place full of so much heartbreak and disappointment…who could dare to stay? 

Hyunjin stuck his hand out the window, making little waves with his palm in the wind. You wondered what he had been thinking of that night; if he was sad or if he was happy. After knowing him for nearly four years now, you knew there was nothing in the world that he deserved more than to feel all the warmth that he had conveyed to others. It was a crime that he never got it back. 

Changbin’s free arm held to the handle above the car door frame, and he flexed and relaxed his muscles as he hung his fingers there. You too wondered what thoughts floated on his mind: if he was making up lyrics or if he was putting together some grad story or gesture only for it to never see the light of day. He too deserved all the love the world could offer. 

Changbin’s car sped up the dirt road to the lookout spot where kids would go to get drunk, high, or possibly both. It was a dreary and empty Wednesday evening, and secretly you hoped that no other rambunctious students would be there to shatter bottles on the craggy rocks. His headlights lit the path ahead, and the car bounced on the rough road with dusty orange rocks. The higher you got to the mountainside, the more static-y the stereo would buzz until soon all that was left were broken lyrics. 

There was one spot you liked particularly: it was a ledge that would jut out horizontally, giving a clear view to the whole of the land below: you would see the white lights from the nearby hospital, and the stadium lights from that god-awful football stadium that had sucked up your student loans. Further, you could see river on the edge of the city-line, and how it would ripple in dark blue sparkles under the moonlight. 

Your two best friends would grab the blankets that were habitually kept in the backseat made of scratchy wool, but this only made them warmer. Changbin also kept a couple camping lamps in his car to light up the dark space of his cargo bed. The weight of your bodies would shake the space and make the car bounce a bit on its wheels when the three of you would cuddle up between eachother to take in the scene. 

On nights like tonight, neither of you would say much, but just look out and feel it all. There was a kind of beauty in the simplicity of the way that everything seemed so still up there, or how time had appeared to stop somewhat. If you were lucky, you could hear the hoot of an owl, or some other critter rustling in the bushes. 

Hyunjin was always the one to sit in the middle, and he would take turns resting his head upon your shoulder or Changbin’s sighing deeply into how they would rise and fall. You hugged your knees to yourself and wondered how many more times you would come up here with them, or if after graduation, it would happen at all. It was painful to consider, but you even wondered if they would be in your life at all after everything ended. 

“I’m sick of being lonely.” Hyunjin said into the cold air. He shifted, looking both you and your other friend in the eyes. “Its depressing and exhausting.” 

“What are you talking bout ‘Jin?” Changbin threw his hoodie over his head.

“I mean moping about people who don’t ever feel the same...feeling sad when it doesn’t go my way...I’m sick of it!! I just wanna like, give up!! Would it be so hard for me to just like, stop feeling??” 

“Oh Jinnie...don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just stop falling in love with people. It’s impossible. Not just for you but...” You exhaled out, “...for all of us.” 

“Yeeeah, I don’t think that you have much control over that.” Changbin agreed. 

“No, seriously!! It’s shit!!” 

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into his shoulder to sooth him, “I know, I know.” 

“Aren’t you guys sick of it?? The three of us must be cursed or something.” 

Changbin laughed out his little trademark chuckle and ruffled up his friends blond locks. “You’re being dramatic again Hyunjin. It’s not that bad.” 

“Psh! Says you who hasn’t gone on a date in months!” 

“Hey!!” 

You flicked both of your friends on the sides of their heads. “Cut it out, will you? We came up here to relax and forget all that stuff, remember?” 

Hyunjin gave out a sign in his exasperation, turning to fiddle with his little Bluetooth speaker that had definitely seen better days. The last crickets of the season chirped in the early fall air, and the little device booted up with the tiny ringtone that you knew well. 

“Anything we want to listen to in particular?” 

“Whatever you feel like Jinnie.” 

The little blue-white light of his phone illuminated his face, and Hyunjin picked a song that you had likely heard dozens of times before. It was from that artist that he had adored to bits, but only really listened to when he was feeling down. 

“Oh Jinnie.” You hushed, then wrapped your arm around his wide shoulder. “No one deserves you.” 

Changbin let his head fall on the other boy’s shoulder too. When the three of you were close like this with your body heat shared between you, it was cozier than anything imaginable. While you and your two friends weren’t the most touchy of people, there were still times when you could huddle up, and it was no secret that it felt safer than anything. 

Hyunjin chuckled a bit, causing his shoulders to shake. “You know what they say in those movies about people who can’t find love after long?” 

“What’s that?” 

“They say, “By the time that we turn thirty, if neither of us have found love, lets just marry eachother.”” 

Changbin scoffed, “And you’re bringing this up why?” 

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the most ridiculous idea if the three of us decided to do that, right? Seeing how the current trend is going?” 

You exchanged adoring and teasing glances with Changbin over your adorably naïve friend. 

“I think you’re missing something out of that equation Jin.” 

His doe-eyes widened, “What’s that?” 

“In all of those movies, it was usually two people who made that promise.” 

“Two people, three people, what does it matter? As of right now, its looking like the only people that we’ve got is eachother.” 

Hyunjin stretched out his hands into his sweater paws and made a little squeak when he cracked his back. 

“What do you say?”

“Hm.” Changbin cleared his throat, “So you’re being serious?” 

“What’s so crazy about it?” Convinced as ever, he counted out the points on his fingers, “We could all live together like we’ve always talked about, we’ll never be lonely and have someone to do things with, we don’t have to be second guessing ever, waiting for someone to call us back...we all already know eachother really well so there will be no surprises...” 

“Oh, so you are being serious about it then?” You ruffled his hair up a bit, just to get a rise out of him like it usually would. 

“I mean...it’s not like it would be hard...right?” 

Changbin sucked at his teeth, “Mm. I guess not.” 

“But isn’t a marriage supposed to be like, having kids, being in love, being...partners?” You added. 

Hyunjin stammered with frantic hands, “W-well, we don’t have to do everything!! Marriage is so conventional these days, we don’t have to follow all the rules, especially since there will be the three of us anyway.” 

Changbin sighed, casting his head up to the ocean-blue sky dotted with silvery constellations and the red blinking lights of airplanes overhead. 

“You’re still forgetting something Jinnie.” 

The blond tiled his head. 

“The part about being in love?” 

The tallest boy shied his hair behind his ear, then tucked his chin into one of the blankets. 

“I mean...I know that I love you guys. I wouldn’t mind spending the time...” 

Your chest buzzed with warmth hearing your friend say it for the first time. It previously had been somewhat of an unspoken phrase between the three of you, but now that he had said it out loud, it felt even more real. 

“Awww, I love you too Jinnie.” 

Changbin scoffed once more and picked with the fraying ends of the blanket. “I guess I do too.” 

The cargo bed grew silent while the three of you chewed on the idea. The longer you thought about it, it started to make sense bit by bit. After all, through all the confusion and the broken hearts, ice cream and broken plates, your little group understood each other better than most. When there were tears to dry, each of you knew exactly what to do. You had loved them all along, you always had. 

“I really love you guys...I think.” Hyunjin finally said, and linked his arms with yours and the other man’s. 

“What are you doing getting all cheesy for, huh?” Changbin nudged him with a smirk. 

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really thought about it like that before.” 

“Like what?” 

“Out of all the people that I’ve “loved” I don’t think that I’ve ever loved them like I have with you both.” 

“What do you mean?” Under the swath of blankets, your knee nudged against his, and he jumped a bit from the feeling. 

Both you and Changbin looked at him attentively and how his lip quivered, and soft eyes glistened from the glow of the lanterns. 

“M-maybe all along...I’ve been in love with you?” 

“Like, in love, in love?” 

“I don’t know...maybe?” He rubbed his eyes like he would’ve had they been lured with sleep. “Maybe I’m just, making things up...I don’t know. It’s getting late.” He laughed out with a tentative breath, “I’m saying things that don’t make sense.”  

Changbin looked out at the stretch of city lights as if he was contemplating the idea himself. 

“I guess that it wouldn’t be impossible.” He said blankly. 

“What!?” You tried to look at both of your best friends as seriously as you could. While your heart started racing, it was as if it was against your will. 

“It’s kinda funny,” Changbin began, “The three of us always complain about how love never really comes our way when we’ve already got it...right here.” 

Logically speaking, it made sense. You and your two best friends really did know eachother better than anyone else ever had. When you had met as scared little 1st years without a clue in the world how to be your own people. You had figured it all out together. The ways that you had showed love to each other had been a bit different--but it was still all the same. If you were to have not met them all those years ago, your life would’ve been drastically different. You couldn’t even picture it. 

Perhaps in all of your little rambles in journals and daydreams, was what you were looking for...them?

“Maybe we were just looking in the wrong place?” You offered, and both of them shrugged. 

“It’s possible.” Hyunjin pulled both of your arms closer to him, and rubbed his cheek into the top of your head, then Changbin’s dark curls. He giggled out, tackling the two of you to lay flat on the cargo bed. It crinkled with a plastic sounding thud, then he wrapped his legs up in both of yours the best that he could. 

Under his arm, you choked a little from his tight grasp, but you eventually let yourself mold into the curves of his body and soak up his warmth. The scratchy wool tickled at your cold fingers, and you soon felt Changbin’s hand come searching for you under the blanket too. It was a bit startling at first, but he reached out to hold your arm, then rubbed small circles into it with his thumb where you rested them on Hyunjin’s chest. 

It was as if he was a bit delirious, but Hyunjin chortled with laugher until he had lost his breath, and his lyrical sounding voice bounced off the cavern of the mountain and echoed up into space. 

“Why do I...weirdly...kinda...wanna make out with you guys right now?” 

Changbin pinched his friend with a teasing grin, “You mean it?” 

Hyunjin pouted with his plush pink lips, “I thought we all just agreed that we were in love with eachother??” 

“Jinnie...” You settled your head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbones. 

“Damn. Glad I’m not the only one.” Changbin bit a smirk into his lip, then propped himself up on his forearm to gain better ground on you and the other man. 

Your fluttering heart beat it’s way up your throat and into your ears, and your two friends looked at you expectantly. 

“O-outside? Right now?” 

“Yeah, I guess. Why not?” Changbin traced his thumb and index under Hyunjin’s smooth jaw. 

“Aha! So you admit that you want to too!!” Hyunjin beamed and tugged at the sleeves of your own hoodie. 

“I-I didn’t say that...” 

Hyunjin leaned over on his side to face you. “Y/n, how about lets make a deal. We try it out, see how it feels, if it feels weird, we stop and pretend it never happened?” 

“I don’t know Jinnie...this seems pretty friendship ending to me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Changbin said with a sly grin. 

The tallest boy pleaded to you with nearly needy eyes. “I think that it would feel nice? Besides...none of us have really...felt that...in a while.” 

Changbin’s creeping hands came surveying over Hyunjin’s deep green pullover, and the other boy shivered out a little feeling the touch. 

Hyunjin’s own curious hands reached out to hold both sides of your face gingerly with pink fingertips. 

“I know that I’d like to kiss you...if you’ll let me?” 

Both of your friends waited for you as you took turns checking with both of them. The whole prospect was unimaginable, but now...with both of them in front of you, both more real than anything you could have ever thought up, it started to make all the sense in the world. 

“What do you say?” Hyunjin asked with a dreamy air. It was chilly on that early fall evening, so he tucked up the blankets even higher. It was a simple gesture, but still held multitudes of his care. 

“It doesn’t hurt to try...” 

You felt your face pulled closer to his, and all at once his warmth flooded your lips. It was a strange feeling your friend’s lips on yours like this, but while it was new, it was comfortable. Your friend relaxed himself over you, smiling with the corners of his mouth, and slowly sucking at your lower lip like he didn’t want to startle you with anything too fast. His glossy lips stuck with his favored strawberry flavored Chapstick, and you only wanted to taste more. He hummed with a little happy sound, and his larger hands nearly covered your whole face where he helped tilt your head a little so that he could gift deeper kisses to it. 

Beside him, Changbin shook with a sigh watching the two of you, a different kind of passion growing within him seeing the two of the people that he loved most do something like this. He was a bit unsure at first, but he tucked back his friend’s blonde edges to free the skin of his neck, then sucked little kisses there too. He to was careful, and didn’t want to leave marks, but rather feel the way that Hyunjin’s skin dotted with goosebumps from the feeling and then let kitten-sounding whimpers go from the pressure on his neck. 

While the night itself was nearly too cold to bear, the three of your bodies heated instantly, and you nearly felt as if the sweater that kept you warm was even too much. Hyunjin parted his lips slightly to enter your mouth with his tongue, and it was a feeling so indulgent that you tried to hide from your friend how good he could make you feel out of your own embarrassment. 

Your name slithered from his lips to yours, and you tucked your hands under his sweater, finding Changbin’s hands there too on the other boy’s bare skin. Hyunjin flinched from feeling both sets of hands on his muscles. His abs flared from the attention, and he accidentally bit into your lip feeling the cold pads of fingers on him. 

Now that you had one taste of him your body could only crave more. 

Changbin tilted Hyunjin’s gasping and swollen lips to his own where he took his own turn gifting the other boy his affection. Hyunjin pressed his whole chest into the other man in an attempt to get closer and Changbin’s hands splayed across his back to hold him tightly. The two of them giggled a bit as they roughly worked their way around each other’s mouths. Changbin, a little smaller in the other man’s wide and long arms appeared to swim in him, and the two of them melted between the thick fabric of their clothes. 

Once more your hands went journeying up Hyunjin’s shirt, and you ran your fingers over every curve and twist of his back: from the little dimples above his hips, his ribs, his sweeping shoulder blades and each swelling bit of fleshy dorsal muscle you could get your hands on. You had never realized how curious you had been for him in this way, but it delighted you to feel him this close. 

Legs became anxious under the wool blankets, and tangled up with little regard for personal space, and hips writhed asking for attention that had been kept for them for far too long. 

Changbin moved down Hyunjin’s jaw to give him more kisses to his tender neck, sucking harder this time to imprint little purple marks. You had never taken Changbin to be one to do so, but something told you that he was one to take pride in those that he loved, and wanted them to be his only. 

“B-Bin...” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, no longer loud enough to bounce off the rocks surrounding you. 

From the way that Changbin kissed the other boy, you instantly craved for him to do the same for you. Across the width of your gorgeous blond friend, you tossed around Changbin’s dark and curly strands, and soaked up his warmth to your hand cracking from the cold. 

You called out for him too, and found your hips grinding into Hyunjin’s back, becoming more impatient by the moment. The way that both of them touched you, and each other was...different. There was no fear, no heartbreak, no uncertainty or loneliness. When you thought of it later, it was if the three of you could actually heal from it all for the first time. 

Changbin’s eyes softened hearing you beg for him, and he helped you slide closer to him. 

“Hm. You’re so cute.” He muttered before filling your mouth with his own kisses. Changbin appeared to channel everything that he had in him to give to you--it was no surprise considering the romantic that he was. He was attentive and slow; rough at first, but then melting into something much more infatuating. Hyunjin took his turn swiping his hands up and down your thighs, kneading into the skin, and then tucking up your sweater. He shimmied down your body, pressing soft lips into your belly to make you tremble from the pleasant gesture. He made his way up higher, up to your chest where he exposed even more skin to the cold, but was sure to make up for it by keeping the blankets close. 

Changbin swiped his thumb over both of your lips, smiling as he did so. 

“Have I ever told you that you’re really breathtaking?” He said with a tone so sultry it was a bit laughable. 

“I don’t think so?” 

He too took a greedy hand down your chest where Hyunjin nipped lightly, admiring the way that you had looked under the moonlight. He brought his fingers back to your lips, giving you a tiny and accidental taste of his fingertips, then promptly resumed the kisses that you had asked for. 

Hyunjin worked his way back up your body, stopping at last to lap lightly into your neck with tiny fleeting love bites and delighted in the way that he could see them fade onto your skin--almost like you and him were a matching set now.

Changbin broke his lips from yours, creating a tiny wet sound with a thin string of his saliva on your your bottom lip.

Hyunjin played with the elastic of your sweatpants, gasping out a bit once he saw your legs rub together in the absence of friction. His eyes wandered slowly to his other friend who had grinded his hips down into the cargo bed with a quivering length.

“Are we about to do what I think we are?” He asked, both thrilled and shocked.  

“Seems like it.” Changbin said simply after going to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Damn. I was not expecting this night to go like this.” Your voice shook, either from anticipation, or from the cold--you couldn’t quite tell.

“Me neither...but I’m not mad about it.”

“Friendship offically ruined?” Hyunjin said with a mischievous little smile.

The breeze blew through, wrapped up in the smell of the crisp mountain air. Hyunjin’s little speaker played on with his songs that you still knew the names of. There wasn’t too much light, just the glow from the inside of Changbin’s car and his lanterns, but it was just enough to take in your friends fully--the ones that you had cared for so much, you didn’t even known how much you had. While you would’ve been worried about getting caught on that Wednesday night, this mattered little.

“I’d say so.” You answered, and it was exactly what they had wanted to hear.

The three of you opted to keep your tops on to fight off the elements, but under the covers, you each jiggled off pairs of joggers, jeans and sweatpants. The car bounced once more as the three of you readjusted. As soon as bare legs intertwined and the thin fabric of undergarments got thrown into the mix, you each got louder and more desperate for wandering touches that could quell your desires.

With twisted and oversized socks, Hyunjin straddled both sides of Changbin’s head, letting the other man palm the outline of his dick and squeeze at it harshly until he shivered over the smaller man’s frame.

“Damn Jin...” Changbin groaned seeing the other’s length. “You’ve been packing and didn’t feel like sharing?”

“S-shut up.” Hyunjin whined as the other teased him.

You worked bite after bite down Changbin’s torso, sucking lightly, then harder. After long, you found that it tickled him a little--this knowledge you would save for another time.

He wore baggy boxers which hid the full girth of his dick that swelled with his erection that bopped and only appeared to grow larger once you and released him. Thick veins wrapped around his length, and his tip flared where you grabbed him into your palm.

“I could say the same to you, Bin.” You teased your friend.

Hyunjin turned to see for himself, laughing out, seeing the way that it looked in your smaller hand.

“Bin, what the fuck?”

“...Intimidated are you?”

The other boy tossed his head back, hair getting caught in his hoodie. “No...”

Changbin snapped the elastic to Hyunjin’s briefs just because he liked the sound, then pulled the other’s member out to pump at the considerable length with his fist. The blonde boy choked out a gasp at the strong grip, and Changbin dug his fingers around the other’s waist to bring in him closer.

“What me to suck this pretty dick of yours?”

“Do I even need to answer that question?” Hyunjin snarked.

Further down, you worked your own hand around Changbin’s cock which you had lathered at first with your spit. Obscene sounds of the liquid cupped in your hand, then you worked your mouth down to his gloriously thick thighs. Something overtook you then, and all you wanted to to was ravage them, make them all yours, mark them as yours, and make the quiver all because of you.

Your fingernails dug into the fleshy and squishy skin, and Changbin moaned out forcefully feeling the sting.

“Feels good?” You asked with a wicked grin, then returned to sucking bruises into the inner parts of his thighs.

“You’re gonna...gonna distract me.” He sighed out, still jerking the other boy away.

Hyunjin swiped away the other man’s curly bangs so he could see him fully. He guided his length over Changbin’s mouth, teeth clenched with a tight exhale once he felt the warmth of the other’s tongue lapping up the sides of his shaft.

Your teasing was enough, and you finally granted your friend what he wanted. With a girth as wide as he had, it was somewhat of a challenge, but a challenge that you gleefully expected. He had puffed up your cheeks fully, and you could barely take in half is length without it testing the back of your throat. Still, you focused your breath coming out of your nose, and swallowed him down deeper. Your eyes wetted from the simulation to your gag reflex, but you held on for as long as you could. At last, your wish was granted, and his marked up thighs shook just for you.

“Bin...fuck.” The blond shuddered upon coaxing himself fully into his friend’s mouth. He moaned out sinfully feeling the twist of the other man’s tongue.

To give yourself a moment’s pause, you stopped, gasping over your friend’s slit, teasing your tongue around his head, dipping down to the place where he dripped with beads of precum.

Changbin laughed out breathily, swearing easily and calling out your name too with a rasp to his tone. “S-shit...”

“Getting too distracted?” Hyunjin purred, seeing the other man made a wreck by you. “What about me?”

“S-sorry.” Changbin admitted, wetting his lips and taking back Hyunjin’s cock into his hollowed cheeks.

As you swallowed around him, your friend rutted his hips just slightly, his lust overtaking him.

“Oh fuck, just like that, mm--” Hyunjin cooed, getting lost in his own ecstasy with head thrown back, and his sweater paws melting down to Changbin’s quaking chest where he supported himself.

You worked your hand and mouth up and down around the pulsating vein’s of your best friend’s length, lazily letting him feel your flattened tongue, then switching to let him feel the tightness of your throat.

Hyunjin sighed out heavily as looked down at his friend who had taken him so well. It was almost as if he felt cheated from the crappy head that he had been getting in dirty bathrooms and semi-public dressing rooms. It was dangerous in the way that Changbin would stroke him languidly, then let his drool wet his tip.

Further down your hips, the pent up heat from your own sex ached on the cool plastic of the cargo bed, and you grinded your hips down for any simulation you could get. 

The blonde man whimpered out after long, feeling even hazier the longer that Changbin continued on. “Binnie...you’re...feels really--fuck--so, good...”

It was as if the words hand been a trigger for him, but your friend pulled his length for your mouth, panting out like a dog, while also robbing Hyunjin of all feeling.

“Don’t-don’t wanna cum yet...” He laughed out, “I was really fucking close.”

Hyunjin pouted, then turning back and look at you with a bit of your own saliva running down your neck.

“Your turn now.” He nearly whispered, then crawled down the other man’s body to jerk at him lightly.

“Jin! I-I--” He clenched his teeth.

“Lay down, y/n. Is there any way that you want it?”

“A-anything. Anything that you want to do. I-I don’t care.” You begged, falling under his spell.

“Aw. Cute.” He added once he had seen the purple marks on Changbin’s thighs.

You fell back under the two of them, opening yourself up for them to do as they wished. First, Hyunjin crept down your body with as much care as he could--beautiful in the way the he looked close to you like this. 

Hyunjin’s hand cascaded down your chest, then belly, all the way down to your own twitching and wetted sex, and you keened directly into his touch. 

“Wouldn’t you like my fingers? Filling you up...” He asked softly, finally sinking down far enough so that you could feel his words swirl over your exposed arousal, then pressing light kisses into you. “...as deep as you can take it?” 

“Mm-yes.” You squeaked, opening your legs further for him. 

Your other friend settled beside you, tilting your chin nearer to him. Just barely, his lips grazed over you, breathing in your air with his hooded eyes glued to your weakened form under the hands of the other boy. 

“You’re that excited?” Hyunjin mocked, “We’ve barely touched you.” 

“Quit talking and just get to fucking me, got it?” You demanded, mustering all of your strength. 

“Oh-ho! I didn’t take you for one to bite back.”

Changbin bit a proud little smile into your lip, wrapping his arms around you. The blond man then toyed with your entrance, licking his fingers, wetting them, then pushed them slowly into your needy hole. 

“Ahhh, look at that, so fucking tight around my fingers, You want it that bad?” 

His long and lithe digits filled you up where he started to thrust them in and out, using his free hand to push your jolting thighs back. Your right hand traversed it’s way under the blankets which you had readjusted, all the way down to Changbin’s leaking length which still blushed red. You wrapped around him carefully, promising his to lips that you would go easy on him. 

As Hyunjin curled his fingers, the other man then reached down to rub at you fervently, matching the pace at which Hyunjin flicked his wrist. Your hips lurched feeling the combination of each sensation, and you cried out loudly for the two of them--the sound itself bounced off that empty space where the three of you existed, almost as if you were calling out for the whole starry sky to hear you. 

“I-I think that we were really missing out on something...” You joked with an airy breath and both of your friends joined you. 

Changbin’s teeth caught his lip as your hand squeezed and twisted, and you could see with every ounce of restraint that he had, he was holding back. 

“Way to make me want to fuck you sideways, huh?” He said with a little grin, observing the size difference between your hand and his member. 

Your back arched when Hyunjin reached in even deeper, and you dissolved into the pleasure that he brought you--an amazing kind of all-consuming feeling that shattered your will, and sent you mewling out into your other friends mouth. 

“I-I can’t wait anymore,” You begged, clawing right into Hyunjin’s golden trellises. 

Changbin scooched up quickly, taking half of the blankets with him, thankfully giving the other boy a nod when he let him be the one to use your entrance. With his brutish hands, he flipped you to your stomach, and hiked up your hips too, cold fingers holding them in place. Hyunjin kneeled permitting you access to his cock which as softened slightly, so he pumped himself back into place with his eyes holding yours. 

At first, Changbin teased you with his tip, adding pressure to your twitching hole, then guided himself in bit...by bit. 

The blonde tapped his dick to your lips, holding firmly the back of your neck as you took him in and choked out at the way that the other stretched your walls. Changbin grabbed at your ass in handfuls starting slowly, grinding his hips in little circles to simulate you deeper. 

“Hm. Who would have known that your pretty little hole would be so perfect for me? Guess we really were missing out on something.” 

Hyunjin growled lowly feeling his cock slide down to the back of your throat, brows crossed, and the bottom of his hoodie resting just above his hips. 

“Squeeze my leg if it becomes too much, okay? ...I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?” 

You nodded best you could, and he started to thrust carefully, every few seconds you would hold his member to drag it against the sides of your cheeks, causing him to huff out loudly at the fleshy bits of your mouth. 

Changbin quickened his pace, doubling over your back as he lost himself in you, grunting out in his rhythm. From both sides, your best friends used you, resorting to something much more feral as they edged themselves closer. From the motions, the car rocked back and fourth like a bed and it’s headboard. 

You too felt the tension build deeply in your core, and it begged with reckless abandon at your dizzy mind that drew itself closer and closer into the feeling of being utterly all theirs. 

In many ways, you guessed that you always had been--while it had been unspoken at the time. Now, having the two of them wholly like this under the silver sheen of the moon, the cold biting at your skin, then furiously met with your heat, you could no longer see them as the two broken souls whom you had bonded with at first. They were now everything, everything that you had wished and hoped for.

Even now that you had become much more to each other, there was nothing that could take away the closeness that you had shared with them. 

“F-fuck--gonna cum--” Changbin announced while he pounded frantically. The other man rolled his hips into your mouth quicker too, seeking the same kind of release. 

“Y/n?” He said with a broken breath, and you muffled out a moan to let him know that you were nearly there too. 

“Oh shit, oh shit--” 

Changbin grunted out, with a bit of panic to his voice, forcefully removed himself from you seconds before he spilled his white seed onto your hole, then sending it dripping down your leg. 

“Oh fuck--s-sorry--” He gasped out, still jerking his cock while he pulsed. 

“Bin!! What the fuck??” Hyunjin yelled out, his words quickly turned into mumbles of nonsense when you took him down as deeply as you could manage without gagging, focusing only on him even though your sex ached feeling so empty.  

When he had come down after a few moments, Changbin took to fucking your walls once more with his thick fingers, not even caring that he had fucked his white warmth back into you at the same time. Meanwhile, he returned to rubbing of your sensitive flesh, trying to replace the feeling he had robbed you of. 

“Cum for me baby, cum for me.” 

On cue, you came in waves, shuddering over Changbin’s fingers slicked with his cum, just as your other friend released down your throat and the warm liquid painted your tongue. 

His blissful moans turned into light chuckles as he milked himself into your mouth, giving you every last drop. Changbin drove you further, overstimulating you to the point where your knees nearly gave out, and you had to beg him to slow. 

After each of your bodies collapsed weakly to the bed of blankets and rejected clothing, you drew the covers back up over yourselves, feeling the cold seep in once more. Both of your friends kissed perfect adoring kisses into your raw lips, tasting the both of themselves on your skin. While your thighs still stuck with your friend’s cum, it didn’t matter as much now that you had huddled up cozily into their arms. 

“Bin, you asshole!!” Hyunjin jested, and flicked the other boy’s forehead. “You fucking finished before you were supposed to!!” 

“What the hell was I supposed to do?? I’d already edged myself enough!!” 

“You could’ve tried!!” 

“Whatever, it felt fucking amazing, don’t blame me.” He added with a smug smirk, “You felt fucking amazing, y/n.” 

“Did it feel good for you too, y/n?” Hyunjin gingerly asked, falling right back to his soft and adorable composure that you knew well. 

“Like Bin said, it was fucking amazing.” 

“So we all agree then? We won’t forget that this happened?”

You gave Hyunjin a little nod to say yes, and your group of three hugged eachother even closer. You hadn’t noticed it, but at some point, Hyunjin’s music had turned off. 

“So, this means that we’re like, a thing now?” Changbin asked, playing with the drawstring to your hoodie. 

You peppered Hyunjin’s forehead with a tiny kiss. “I’d like to be.” 

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and reached out for Changbin across the expanse. “Me too.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

How about B, I, L, U, V for our big boi Theo? :3c

Sure thing, bub!! Theo hcs coming right up! 💙💙💙💙

I really hope you like them!!!! :3c

Fluff ABCs Template here for requests

Body -- What is his favorite part of her body?

Do y’all have any idea how hard it is for me to answer this letter without making this horny hours.

ANYWAY losing my mind because my instinct was to respond with “her tears.” And then my brain was like. Minnie that’s not a part of the body…that’s not how any of this works…But let’s pretend for a moment like I am valid, shall we?

No cap, I die on this hill. And my answer comes in two parts. The first reason tears destroy him like nothing else is because of how much she feels for the van Gogh brothers tbh. I think Theodorus is very accustomed to their situation being seen through a lens of indifference, a kind of “oh well, what can be done ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” especially. While he may argue that he’s used to it, he’s full of shit. It hurts every time–even more so because people are being dismissive about the person he loves most in the world (other than her, of course.) He’ll be silent for the most part, usually pretty stoic if those things come up, but the way her eyes glisten with tears just undoes him. He feels stupid to be so affected, but it’s something else entirely when somebody actually gives a damn. Somehow it's harder to keep his composure under that gaze...

The second reason is more about teasing. He can’t resist getting a reaction out of her sometimes, or seeing her brought to frustrated tears. That lovely blush overtaking the tips of her ears and face, to say nothing if it happens during nsfw hours. They make her face shine, a visible manifestation of all the emotion he tries so hard to deny–to run from–that it just moves him like nothing else. Where he can't find words or proper expression, she always does. Leonardo said once that a single glance at that man and you can tell he’s in love with art. And he was right, save that that kind of passion can be found in him again in moments like this. Alone, driving her to madness and pleasure.

It’s the part of him that belongs to her, and her alone.

Injury -- How would he act if she got hurt?

Lmao call Vincent instead of Theo if you actually want anything productive to be done about it.

I’m KIDDING mostly but to be honest I think he has a hard time hiding his distress when MC is hurt. If it’s something small he’ll try to play it off as mild irritation, muttering about oblivious hondjes and how she needs to be more careful. If it’s something like a bruise or a bandaged cut–maybe she bumped into something–he’ll just clumsily try to pat the pain away. Don’t try to hide it from him either because he has eyes like a hawk and will expose you. He’ll be a dumdum but it’s really sweet because he’ll be so gentle over such a tiny wound (it always amuses Dazai so much) that all the men will have to kind of hold back laughter. They don’t mean to mock the guy but he takes it so seriously it’s a little bit funny. Vincent is so unironically proud of him for being sensitive though and it’s enough to make a girl cry TwT

If it’s a very serious injury I am sorry but you are getting nothing but probably a panic attack from him. He doesn’t really do well with even the slightest suggestion of losing a loved one, so if she breaks a bone or experiences excessive bleeding–whatever the risk may be to her life–he is fighting to stay in control of his body’s response. He’s trying so hard to be strong for her, but he can hardly breathe and his vision is a little fuzzy and did they say she would be unconscious for a few days? Needless to say he’s a bit of a mess. Ideally, Vincent would do his best to help the guy stabilize while he waits for things to improve, but it’s touch and go for a bit there.

When she wakes up, he needs as much gentleness as she does in many respects. The stress attacks and constant distress have just resulted in so much tension and exhaustion, he doesn’t even have the energy for any verbal swipes at anyone. (I was going to say “he’s just a big puppy” but the irony hit me so hard I literally couldn’t finish typing the sentence). He just really needs lots of kisses and hand holds and promises she isn’t going anywhere, completely unprompted. Not to be emo (WAKE ME UP) but he really needs to be brought back to life slowly, in a way. He’ll get better with some time and assurance that she’s going to make it, but oTL hondje please, he can only take so many heart attacks in one lifetime.

Love -- How does he show her he loves her?

He does not.

I’m KIDDING but I stand by the fact that he’s more of a show than tell type of guy. He has a really, really hard time verbalizing everything that he feels, so I think the person he loves would ideally have to keep that in mind. He’s lowkey but very classy, imo. Gets surprise flowers every once in a while, buys groceries after work all the time if she needs things at home, always reliable with taking care of their finances (and in general). I feel like the thing about Theodorus is that he’s the quiet romantic; he won’t smooth talk or endlessly go on about love, but when she needs him? He’s there. Come hell or high water. When things are hard, when things feel impossible, when life just feels like one slap in the face after another–he’s warm and there and steady, leading her by the hand.

He's very proactive about just about anything other than expressing his feelings directly, so write that down--

Upset --How does he act when she's upset?

LMFAO catch him crashing at Vincent’s place tonight, no thanks murderous hondje ain’t it for me, sorry sweaty.

All jokes aside, I think he’s the type of guy who just has no idea how to handle it. I mean she’s the one that’s usually pretty stable emotionally, so when she isn’t it tends to be a big deal–the cause of her foul mood has got to be sizable. While he may be stymied upfront, will most likely go after the root cause of her distress and kill it with a hammer when her back is turned. Nobody upsets his hondje (unless it’s him) and gets away with it. The man has two modes: kill and more kill, and so he uses the second one as necessary in these situations.

That being said, it doesn't mean he's completely bereft of sensitivity. If it's a more sorrowful kind of upset, he'll try to make time for a lot of cuddling and pampering. Get her things she likes to eat/drink, rub her back gently, put on a movie she likes (even if it's boring to him). He hopes that some care and a few little distractions will be enough to calm her soon. He loves his hondje best when she's smiling, after all ùwú

Vaunt -- What is he proud of? Does he like to show her off?

Oh my goddddddd. Bih. If this man suffers from a cardinal sin, it’s pride I swear. Even if he’s Mr. Bad Mood Stink Face he will literally never say a bad word about her. There are so many people convinced he’s deadass got some kind of disorder because he has scary face, but also looks so delighted at the same time it's terrifying. Gets all puffed up about what a hard worker she is, how talented, how he couldn’t have done any of this without her. Even when he’s roaring drunk, now he just rambles on and cries about how much he loves her and Vincent and it’s beyond hilarious. Would throw down for her, would die for her, would steal a clown’s balloon for her–you name it.

She can do absolutely no wrong, so write that down.

Has a love hate relationship with showing her off (in the more blatant way) though because. Homewrecking. Does she look lovely in that dress? Undoubtedly so. If he sees one more gross lustful/covetous gaze directed at her though, he’s just gonna leave with her in tow. (He would throw hands but she doesn't like that.) Y’all know the whole Lord of The Rings’ “My p r e c i o u s” thing? That’s his vibe LMFAO. Depending on his mood he will either be like "hell yeah that's my wife you jealous bih, I'm the luckiest guy ever ik now buzz off" or he will just get more and more lowkey steamed until they leave.

[deceitfuldevil]

Hot and Cold

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: After defeating Ultron and getting the chance to formally meet the new avengers trainees, also known as the Maximoff twins, you became quite close to the pair in a short amount of time. Of course Wanda took an immediate liking to you for saving her brother's life, and Pietro took a liking to you for. . . other reasons. Wanda always called you two yin and yang, mostly because even though in many ways you two were total opposites, you were always around one another in some form or another. But your thing with Pietro started about two months into knowing him; you were always cold, and you soon came to realize he was always hot. The solution to this? Cuddling. Both of you expressed that it was completely platonic at the beginning, but as time went on you guys didn’t express this nearly as much. . . as your actions proved more and more romantic.

Warnings: mentions of nightmares & childhood trauma, briefly.

Word Count: 2,002 (my birth year:)

Same old, same old. You wake up sometime around 3am with a jolt, another nightmare. In the past few months they’d been about the usual topics, your traumatic childhood, losing your powers, and so on. But after a bad mission about 3 weeks ago, the nightmares have been almost purely your subconscious taunting you. Steve gave you hell on the way back, even called you sloppy. You didn’t go to training for a week afterwards because you were so depressed. Tonight’s nightmare involved you losing your powers and ultimately your entire team. The voices ringing out to you, “This is all your fault,” rang over and over until you woke up gasping for air. You sat up, and after catching your breath, you decided there was nothing better to do than get something to drink.

Taking a sip of the cool water only made you shiver more. Why did Tony line the whole kitchen with freezing marble floors? Taking another sip you looked over at the commons area and saw Pietro, shirtless, sitting in front of a fan watching a movie on the couch. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, and it was something he frequently did when he was too hot. Deciding to surprise him, you carefully walked up behind him on the couch and placed your freezing hands on his bare shoulders. But instead of jumping up and screaming at your touch like you thought he would, he sighed contently and mumbled out:

“Ahh, hello ledyanaya printsessa” (ice princess in Russian)

Although you didn’t speak Russian, you’ve learned a few key words from Pietro and his sister. Like dragâ meant dear, printsessa meant princess, dorogoy meant darling, and of course suka meant bitch. Beyond that if Pietro or Wanda said something you didn’t know, you’d either ask or use context clues to figure out what they were saying.

Although at first you were shocked he didn’t jump at your touch, you smiled to yourself as you used your cold hands to slowly massage Pietro’s broad shoulders; he groaned lowly as you slowly worked out the tension in his shoulders.

“Feels so good, dorogoy. But do you know what would feel even better?”

He questioned, his voice low and raspy, sending a chill down your spine. You only hummed in response, not trusting your voice to push out a solid reply.

“This.”

With one very quick motion he flipped you over from behind the couch and into his arms. His face was just a few inches from yours as he looked down and smiled at seeing a shocked expression on your face.

“What? You didn’t see that coming?” He grinned, his accent rich and thick as he said his now infamous line. Initially he just said it because it pissed Clint off, but soon it became his “catchphrase”.

But you didn’t respond, you just looked into his bright blue eyes. You felt your heart beating so hard, almost sure he could feel it too. You know what you wanted to do but didn’t know if you had the courage to do it.

Silently, Pietro gently brushed a hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, and kept his rested hand on the side of your face. His eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips, you licked them to draw more attention to them and to see if he would do the same. But he one upped you and moved his face impossibly closer to yours, your lips now mere centimeters apart as his hot breath fanned over your face.

“Dragâ, have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He inquired, his voice now a hushed whisper. You only shook your head a small yes in response.

He shook his head slightly and sighed. “Well have I ever... shown you?” He asked, gently caressing your face.

Your eyebrows stitched together in confusion. “Pietro what do you—“ but the words died in your throat as Pietro pressed his soft lips to yours in a tender kiss. Pulling away after a few seconds waiting for your reaction. You only opened your eyes and grinned as wide as the sun and placed your lips back onto his, more passionately this time.

For the rest of the night, kisses were shared almost everywhere. Pietro went the extra mile, and as he was giving you slow and soft kisses on your neck he said, “I should’ve *kiss* done that *kiss* sooner *kiss* ...no?” You giggled and turned his face towards yours and with your lips practically touching his.“Way sooner.” you said with a bright smile as you kissed him as you both slowly started to drift to sleep, not particularly caring or realizing the team would see you in the morning.

---

Later that day around 9 in the morning, F.R.I.D.A.Y awoke Tony with a message. “Good morning Mr. Stark, you owe Captain Rogers twenty dollars.” He tiredly laughed and said smugly, “oh do I? And why’s that F.R.I.D.A.Y?” “Because of the agreement made on March 6th, about 37 days ago,” and then F.R.I.D.A.Y played an audio of Steve and Tony talking about you and Pietro:

“Tony, you can’t tell me you don’t see the way those two kids look at each other.”

“Sorry Cap, I think they’re strictly businesses with each other.”

“Have you ever even seen the security camera records of them cuddling together late at night?” Steve asked.

“Okay now you’re pulling my leg old man.” Tony laughed.

“I’ll bet you $20 they’ll end up together within the next 90 days. If I’m wrong, I’ll pay you $40.”

“You’ve got a deal Rodgers... but you do know that’s just pocket change for me right?”

And with that, the audio clip F.R.I.D.A.Y was playing ended;Tony never rushed out of bed faster. He ran down to the main commons area where Nat, Clint, Wanda, and Steve were already gathered; they shushed him as he neared by. Clint and Nat already had their phones out taking pictures of the pair, who Tony looked at and sure enough, they were fast asleep cuddled in each other’s arms. He sighed as Steve nudged him and held out his hand. “So where’s that $20 you told me I’d never see?” Tony rolled his eyes and told Steve he’d be making a trip to the bank.

After a few more minutes of somewhat creepily watching the pair sleep Tony broke the silence and asked, “Okay, do we have enough pictures to blackmail them if needed? Because if so I’m waking them up.” Clint and Nat nodded and slowly stepped away. They assumed Tony would start blasting music or something to that effect. But instead he stood in front of you and Pietro and made sure to take pictures of you two with the flash ON... to wake you up in the most embarrassing way possible of course.

You were the first to notice the bright flashes of light in your face and groaned softly, thinking it was the sun and the first thing in the morning You turned your head over and called out to your cuddle buddy.

“Pietro... I think it’s morning.” He started to rub small circles on the small of your back as he slowly opened his eyes to see a gleeful Tony Stark with his phone camera inches from his face. He quickly looked around and saw the other avengers and even his sister.

“Sukas!!“ he shouted as he put his power to good use and in the blink of an eye, he picked you up and carried you to your room. Only then did you fully open your eyes to see Pietro holding you in his arms, a little breathless.

“What happened?” You asked tiredly.

“We slept in and well... the avengers caught us,” he said dreadfully, his voice still tired and thick with his accent you adored so much.

“Well at least we have nothing to hide from them now, right?” You tried to put a happy spin on the situation.

“They got pictures of us cuddling, dragâ.“

Your eyes blew open as you jumped down from Pietro’s arms and ran back down to the main commons area where now most of the facility was gathered and you guessed it... sharing pictures to one another.

“Whoever has ANY pictures of Pietro and I is to immediately delete them or face the consequences,” you said gleefully, but your words with true intentions. Only no one really took you seriously. In fact, Thor let out a small laugh and said, “What could a hero still in training do if we do keep such pictures?” A few others laughed along with him.

“No no I guess you’re right Thor, I’m only capable of doing things like this,” you said, catching him off guard and giving him a swift kick to the torso, knocking him over. You flipped him over and pinned his hands behind his back. Even Tony and Steve backed away, not thinking you had the power to pin down a literal GOD just quite yet.

“So, does anyone still have any pictures of us on their phones?” You said with a dangerous smile, thinking no one would doubt you now. But Clint was cocky and told you, “the only way you’re getting these pictures off of my phone is from my cold dead hands sweetheart” as he waved his phone in front of you. But before you could jump at him, a flash of blue light came flashing by and was now holding you back as you struggled to go after Clint for his comment.

Pietro whispered in your ear “he isn’t worth it darling,” slowly calming you down in the process. Eventually you stopped fighting Pietro’s grip on you and the urge to kick Clint in the face and turned away from the rest of the team to hug your new boyfriend. You and he started to slowly walk away from the team, but not without saying to Clint, “only I can call her sweetheart, Capeesh? Otherwise I’ll run circles around you while she does more than take those pictures off your phone, old man.”

The group let out a collective “ooohhh” as the two of you headed off back to your room. Tony broke the silence by saying, “so is no one going to mention that she just pinned Thor down like one of the test dummies?” But Thor only scoffed and claimed that you had caught him off guard, which everyone knew was a load of bullshit.

Back in your room, you and Pietro went back to cuddling and just talked about your feelings and what this all meant. But truth be told the whole conversation was mostly soft kisses amongst other things. For the first time in a very long time, you finally felt content, happy, and most of all, loved.

—

Hi everyone!! this is my first imagine of 2021 ahhh!! it’s only put out a day after when I posted my first imagine in 2020. Anyways I’m hoping this post will do well as I’ve never written for this character before... and he's not that popular since he's a little... dead. But we don't talk about that :) Since WandaVision has come out and *spoiler alert* Pietro has returned... somewhat, I’ve realized my appreciation for Age of Ultron Pietro... and fallen heads over heels for the dead man. I’ve rewatched Avengers: Age of Ultron three times in a row for the past three nights now, so it’s safe to say I’m a little mentally unstable. Okay now we’ve dived deeper than any of you care to hear. Anyways I hope you all enjoyed this imagine and constructive criticism and feedback is always welcomed!!

Much Love,

—Skyler

(2/15/21)

[phy-be]

| treasured | a david/genya fic

my participation to the mini-bang for @grishaversebigbang ♡ This was so fun to write, and a million thank you to my two wonderful materialki! Please check out their amazing work:

@nuclearnik [link] @zemenipearls [link]

Rating: General Audiences Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, proposal, set between Ruin and Rising and King of Scars, Canon Compliant, david is a nerd and he loves his soul mate very very much, cw: nerdy descriptions of rocks, Grishaverse Minibang Summary:

“David, you didn’t have to…”

He frowned and cocked his head. “Yes, I did. It’s customary to gift a ring when asking someone’s hand in marriage.”

He was never good at understanding social norms, but he was pretty sure he’d gotten that one right.

David pressed the button on the side of his microscope goggles, switching the lens to a more magnifying glass. In the palm of his gloved hand, a crystal gleamed, like sparks of purple fire trapped in stone. The light hit each of its faces in slightly different ways, creating an explosion of colours and geometrical shapes. It was even more beautiful seen up close, when David could not only admire the beauty of the thing, but also the elegant laws of science that made the light refract just so.

Crystals were complicated to work with. Their beauty was due to a highly specific geometry at the molecular level, and any careless alteration could damage their inner core, breaking the stone or making it duller. Even if some were strong enough to cut glass, crystals were precious; they needed to be handled with the utmost care.

David loved working on crystals.

His quiet work was interrupted by anguished sobs coming from the bed.

Quickly, he slipped the stone in a bit of fabric and rushed from his desk. Genya was having another nightmare. Throwing off his glasses and gloves, he hurried to find her on the bed. He took her in a protective embrace as she sobbed, screamed, legs jerking in panic. She clawed at the air around, desperately chasing off a horde of invisible nichevo'ya.

“Stop,” she begged. She wasn’t talking to him.

David held her tighter. Every time he saw her this way, so anguished and pained, helpless to her inner demons, a bitter guilt settled in him, consigned in a single thought: I should have protected her.

Then the guilt faded into hot-white anger — at the Darkling, who had done this to her, who had known how much it would hurt and keep hurting her — until David discarded that emotion, too. Rage and regret were not useful feelings to linger on. Helping Genya get through this, making her pain more bearable — these were the only things that mattered.

Eventually her movements calmed, her hiccupping sobs turning into shallow breaths and silent tears. David caressed her hair, the auburn locks softer than any silk he’d ever felt, and dropped feather-light kisses on her forehead. Genya nestled closer to him, burying her face in his neck. He could feel the wetness of her tears trickling on his skin.

“You’re safe, dear,” he whispered, knowing that he would do everything in his power to make sure this would always be true, from now on. “You’re safe.”

Her grip tightened on his shirt.

“W-were you awake?” she said, her voice still shaken.

David recognized the change of topic as her way to distract herself from the nightmares that lingered in her wakefulness. He played along.

“Yes,” he said, kissing her hair. “I was working late.”

“It’s almost morning,” she murmured. “You work late a lot lately.”

“I’m working on a project.”

“What project?”

David hesitated; Tamar had said he was supposed to keep it a secret. Keeping anything from Genya was hard enough normally, but when she was vulnerable like this, it was downright impossible.

He got up to get the piece of fabric — Genya followed him out of bed, not wanting to let go of his embrace, and he smiled, endeared. Gently, he led her back to the bed, sat next to her, and put his creation in her open palms.

“It’s not finished,” he warned.

Genya carefully unwrapped the silk. Her eyes widened at the sight of the ring, a glistening band of grisha steel wrapping like branches around a rose-shaped stone. When she turned it to get a better look, the candlelight shining through the crystal switched its colour from red, to purple, to blue.

“I altered the refracting index at different levels of the structure to make the crystal polychromatic,” David explained, excited in spite of himself. “I’ve done this with metals before, but never with crystal. It still needs polishing before I can give it to you, though.”

Genya’s eyebrow shot up, looking shocked. “This is for me?”

“Of course.” He admired the ring against Genya’s hand, as beautiful as he’d expected. It would be perfect once she wore it. Silver and red always complemented her pale, rosy skin, the way gold and purple complemented the bronze colour of his own.

“David, you didn’t have to…”

He frowned and cocked his head. “Yes, I did. It’s customary to gift a ring when asking someone’s hand in marriage.”

He was never good at understanding social norms, but he was pretty sure he’d gotten that one right.

“Y-you’re—” Genya croaked, her skin visibly flushed, “you’re proposing to me?”

“Not right now,” David corrected. “Tamar told me it had to be a special moment, so I’m still working on the details of that.”

He’d been thinking of doing it at sunset, for one. The fiery hues of the sky when the sun slipped under the horizon always reminded him of Genya’s hair, and it would look good on the ring. He’d calculated which part of the palace would be the most adequate spot — a corner of the Summoner’s field provided the perfect exposure for the ring to reflect sunrays and shimmer beautifully — but he needed a reason to bring Genya there that wouldn’t alarm her. Tamar had suggested a picnic, which David had found confusing since they never ate on the training grounds, but Genya did enjoy it when he cooked for her.

His thoughts came to a brutal halt when he realized Genya was crying.

David blinked. Had he done something wrong? He was always so bad at this stuff — he couldn’t count how many times he’d offended someone without meaning to, but Genya usually saw past his awkwardness and understood his meaning.

“Genya…” he said, hesitant, “I’m sorry, did I…”

“You’d want to marry me?” she sniffled, eyes cast down, tears gliding down her cheeks.

David was even more confused. Tamar’s advice hadn’t covered that part. “Yes. Of course.” Had that not been clear?

“Why?” Genya met his gaze. “Why would you… We haven’t even been together that long, you can’t know —”

Like the unknotting of a rope, suddenly, David understood. This was just like the imagined nichevo'ya. She was panicked, sure that the worst was yet to come, that she couldn’t be safe in her own home.

Softly, he cupped her cheeks, bringing her closer. He wished he could take some of the burden that weighed on her, carry it on his shoulders instead of hers, for once; wished he knew the right words to make her feel better, the perfect formula to soothe her fear. But this burden was Genya’s, and David was never good with words. All he could say was the truth.

“I agree that our romantic relationship has not been exceedingly long,” he admitted. A year only accounted for a twentieth of their age so far. Five percent of a life, and some change. “But I have been in love with you for seven years, five months, and twelve days. Our friendship is even older than that,” he pressed his forehead against hers, “and I’ve wanted to marry you from the first time you kissed me.”

His lips brushed hers, an echo of that day at the Spinning Wheel, when the bravest woman in the world had first chosen him.

“I realized at the time that this wasn’t a rational impulse,” he conceded, “so I waited to see how our companionship would grow. I believe I’ve now waited long enough to know. I feel at peace in your company, and I want to make you as happy as you make me.” He pulled back a little, retreating his hands. “Unless you do not want that, in which case I will respect—”

Before he could finish, Genya pulled him into a kiss — the dizzying, head-spinning kind of kiss he’d only ever experienced with her. When she kissed him like that, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, lips flush and panting, David’s usually overworking mind would quiet, snuffed out like the wick of a candle, replaced only by her . Soft hair, delicate skin, lips scarred and still wonderful, her scent a unique aroma he’d come to associate with peace, with home.

“Of course I want to,” she whispered against his lips, smiling coyly.

David kissed that smile, then her cheek, then her temple. “I’m relieved to hear that,” he sighed. “I’ll keep working on that proposal, then.”

Genya laughed, sweet and bright — David didn’t care much for music, but he could have listened to Genya’s laugh for hours. He tucked the ring back in the fabric and put it on the nightstand, where it wouldn’t get lost in the sheets, then took off his shoes and his shirt.

They lied together, Genya’s body half on top of his, snuggling close, as though any space between them might bring in the cold.

Genya brushed her fingers on David’s chest, tracing some patterns.

“So,” she said, her voice now clearer, more sure of herself — Genya in daylight, where the monsters couldn’t touch her. “What was that about seven years, five months, and twelve days?”

“Oh, hm…” David said. He could feel his face heat up, and felt irrationally glad for the brown of his skin, unlikely to show any hint of a blush.

Still, he told her the story of that day. Genya had visited the Fabrikator’s laboratory to make a new cosmetic for the queen. She’d been thirteen years old, and already so creative with her powers. At the time David had only reproduced what his masters had taught him as perfectly as he could, never trying to invent, to create.

But there had been Genya Safin, the first of her kind, inventing everything she did.

It wasn’t the first time they’d met, not even the first time they’d enjoyed each other’s company, but it was the first time David had watched her work. He hadn't even bothered saying hi (which he now realized had been rather rude), too eager to ask her question about her experiment. They’d talked, and when David had gone on a long tangent about his favourite way to colour glass, Genya hadn’t been bored or made fun of his enthusiasm, the way the other students usually did if they bothered to listen to him at all.

She’d listened with care and attention, and then she’d given him her opinion — smart, succinct. Perfect.

“How do you even remember the day this happened?” Genya laughed. “It was so long ago.”

David caressed her shoulder, a soothing, circular motion. “I remember everything, when it comes to you.”

“Cheesy,” she grinned.

“Maybe.” He felt his lips quirk in a smile of his own. “But it’s true.”

She rose up to look at him, her expression turning serious.

“I love you,” she said, the words like a promise. “For even longer than that.”

Gently, David took her wrist, and kissed her palm. “Now, let’s not make it a competition.”

“Wise. You know I’d win.”

“My dear,” he smiled against her hand, “I think I share this victory with you.”

[shihalyfie]

Takeru’s character song “Focus”

I alluded to this in a prior post (and, to be a bit honest about it, was a little concerned about how it would be received), but I had some friends ask about what I meant about this, so I decided to go more into detail with it! This is also partially in light of the occasion of the Best Partner albums also becoming a topic of interest again, so it feels like a good time as ever!

02 was a pretty prolific time for merchandising and side material as far as the franchise goes, and one of the many things that came out of it was the “Best Partner” series of character song albums (a whole 36 songs for all 12 Adventure and 02 kids plus their partners!). Of these, Takeru’s song “Focus” has been a particular topic of interest for many in the fanbase to its suspiciously loaded language and the fact that, well...it comes off as a romantic song, which is very unusual in a series that infamously didn’t touch on the topic of romance very much in terms of the actual series. Speculation has constantly abounded on what it’s supposed to imply, why it’s written this way, and what it could possibly mean...

But if you look at it closely? It’s probably not meant to be romantic, and it most likely refers to Patamon.

One thing that I do need to point out is context. Many who have been cynical about the song’s alleged romantic implications have generally put forth the idea that the music department was technically separate from the anime staff, so it’s possible that the music staff wanted to bait or provoke fanservice without much connection from the anime production. It is, undoubtedly, true that the music department isn’t necessarily fully tied in with the anime department, and has been fully willing to indulge in questionably-canon silliness (while 02′s Christmas Fantasy is certainly in-character, its placement in actual canon timeline has to be finagled with because of what we know about 02′s actual Christmas, and Tamers’s Christmas Illusion is far more comedic than the series itself actually permits), and, exacerbating this further is the fact that Hikari has her own extremely romantically loaded song, Reflection, which is often submitted as evidence that Focus must be made in the same vein, but tends to omit the fact that the album it comes from (Girls Festival) needs to be taken with a very heavy grain of salt given that it’s a notorious fanservice album that deliberately plays up the “maiden-like” characteristics of all of the girls involved for the sake of, ah, a certain subsection of the audience. (It was also made in 2002, long after 02′s production had ended.)

The notable thing about the Best Partner albums is that all of the material on it is extremely in-character, and this is especially notable because the song lyrics are significantly more obviously relevant to each character in 02 and their relationship with their partner than even the original Adventure character songs were (with said Adventure character songs often toeing into rather vague glosses that are only tangentially relevant to each character, and Mimi’s song on there pretty blatantly being an AiM single shoved onto the album for the sake of being called a Mimi song). Moreover, Focus isn’t just written by some random lyricist they grabbed for it, but regular Digimon lyricist Yamada Hiroshi himself, who was very involved in the anime production in terms of writing 02′s inserts Break up! and Beat Hit!, and, considering everything this series is about, you’d imagine he’d probably have been given some kind of details about what to do with Takeru’s representative song. It would be quite strange if, for some reason, Takeru’s song were the only one to go really off the rails about shipping bait instead of being, well, actually about his character arc. 

I should emphasize that the fact that this song is so commonly read as romantic persists in Japan as well, so whether it was via mishap or not, undeniably, the way the lyrics are phrased definitely make the romantic reading a very reasonable one to pull. The language in the song is extremely “loaded”, and, if it weren’t for the unique circumstances I’m about to describe, most reasonable people can’t really be blamed for taking it this way. However, I will say that all of the most common English translations of various parts of the songs have tended to assume the romantic interpretation as well, and have thus followed up with it by definitively translating it in ways that make it near impossible to read otherwise. So what I’m saying here is that I don’t think it was unreasonable for people to have taken the romantic interpretation, and I don’t particularly intend to blame or criticize the translators who handled this song for also taking it this way, but I also want to make clear that this is not the only way to read the song, and that there’s a very high possibility that this wasn’t the case to begin with.

(Also, since I mentioned Yamada Hiroshi earlier: it’s actually not all that uncommon for him to use heavily-loaded language like this in songs he’s written for the series -- refer to Beat Hit! -- it’s just that people haven’t traditionally taken them as shipping because the context and identity of the songs’ topic matters were so obvious that there wasn’t much need to do speculation about it.)

Let’s take a look into all of the parts of the song that have been traditionally taken as romantic:

"We were together since we were little”

One thing that’s interesting about how this line is phrased in Japanese is that it doesn’t actually specify who was little. And, obviously, if you’re talking about a relationship between humans, you’d think that childhood friends would grow up together, so you’d default to “we”...but, actually, the Japanese text doesn’t rule out the possibility of reading this as “since I was little”. Which means that, yes, Patamon isn’t out of the ruling here -- because, indeed, they met when Takeru was young.

In fact, this actually is a line that arguably should rule out anyone else, especially including the most common speculated topic for this song, Hikari -- because he and Hikari weren’t actually that close during Adventure, and their time “together” was relatively short compared to the rest of the adventure. Remember that the Adventure kids weren’t very close to each other after the events of the series, and Hikari and Takeru didn’t keep close contact between Adventure and 02 -- contrast Patamon being close to Takeru during the entirety of the series, and, bar their periods of disconnect between Adventure and 02, you could say that he’s been the closest to Takeru since this time, especially since Yamato hadn’t been able to be as present for him as he’d wanted.

"Running, rolling around, and always laughing"

Again, this is a line that practically excludes nearly anyone else from consideration. Nobody ever did this with Takeru in Adventure but Patamon, especially since Takeru was trying to present himself as a well-behaved kid in the presence of his elders, and it’s entirely possible he wouldn’t have been willing to do this with anyone else but the outwardly childish Patamon. It definitely would not have been Hikari, who was arguably even more reserved than him during this time.

“It would have been better if I hadn’t realized”/“I have a lot of things I want to tell you, but I can’t really say it”/“I can’t ask that”

Sentiments like “I can’t admit it”, or difficulty with accepting one’s own feelings, is usually associated with developing romantic feelings for another person and being touchy about admitting them, but the thing is that this is intended to be a representative character song, and Takeru is actually abysmally bad at admitting anything in general. And yes, that includes not being able to be straightforward with Patamon himself about parsing his trauma over his death.

Takeru was never able to have a straightforward conversation with even Patamon about the whole issue, because of his nasty habit of never opening up about his problems and never being honest about them. That’s why Iori had to be the one to take matters into his own hands and go out of his way to understand Takeru, because Takeru sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to work through this on his own, or even with Patamon.

“I can’t get you off my mind”

This one’s actually a stock phrase in Japanese that can refer to “being interested” in someone (romantically), but can also refer to something just not really being able to leave your head in general (from being bothered by it, or being very worried). So yes, this could mean anything from a romantic fixation...to simply being constantly worried and concerned about one’s welfare.

“You were always crying”

As far as people around Takeru’s periphery who apparently cried a lot goes, there aren’t a lot! The description doesn’t seem to fit Hikari much, either (she had her moments, but it’s not the kind of thing you’d imagine this kind of extreme descriptor for). Hm, but there is someone who might fit that description...

Certainly, enough that Takeru would remember.

(By the way, Patamon gets sent on the verge of tears in the middle of his own solo song...)

"The door that I couldn't reach that day, no matter how far I stretched out"

Very important part here: that day. There was a very important “day” that seems to be on Takeru’s mind here. What’s repeatedly referred to in 02 as one of the most traumatic and impactful days of Takeru’s life?

Incidentally, Takeru and Patamon’s duet song for this album also just so happens to use “opening door” imagery...

“You’re now standing in the light”

That use of “light” is usually submitted as evidence that it’s referring to Hikari via a pun on her name, but, well, “light” does happen to just mean “light”, after all (and it’s used in many contexts that don’t necessarily have to refer to Hikari in 02 itself). And, well...

Pretty apt description there, no?

"We were always being protected"

It could refer to Hikari, or anyone else Takeru was with during Adventure, but remember that Patamon was always the slowest to evolve (especially given the many circumstances that happened with him in Adventure that kept him unable to actively join the fight effectively for a very, very long time), and Takeru himself also had a pretty nasty complex about holding everyone back.

So, in conclusion...

Despite how loaded the language is, in the end, it’s probably meant to be a song about Takeru handling his trauma regarding Patamon very poorly at the time of 02. Which is, well, what his character arc in 02 was about, so it tracks, doesn’t it?

Bear in mind that, again, this is basically “one readable interpretation of it”, which I also personally happen to back very strongly because I think the evidence simply tracks too much given context -- the details described in the song rule out almost every other candidate that would be relevant to Takeru’s character arc, also happen to describe the events of Adventure too well, and certainly would track much better with everything else in this particular album series mostly being relevant to everyone’s character as reflected in 02. Song lyrics are song lyrics, and interpretation might be in the eyes of the beholder...but, you know, food for thought.

[fickleminder]

the years start coming and they don’t stop coming

In which Lilith’s return distorts her brothers’ perception of time.

Part 2 here

You’ve never seen the demon prince look so embarrassed.

“I can call for —”

“No, it’s okay. They deserve this.”

But you don’t, goes unspoken. You can see the pity in his eyes, feel the palpable disappointment in the air. Even Simeon and Luke make sure to hug you extra tight before stepping through the portal to the Celestial Realm, and Solomon promises to check up on you after you’ve returned home.

Thanking Lord Diavolo and Barbatos for their hospitality, you turn towards the final demon in the council room and put on the biggest grin your breaking heart can muster. “Hey, c’mere.”

Satan doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around you. It’s almost like he’s trying to make up for his brothers’ absence, the way he crushes you to his chest and cradles the back of your head.

You can’t find it in yourself to blame them. As far as miracles go, this is a pretty big one. Lilith coming back to life is an unprecedented event, one not even Barbatos had seen coming. Nobody has any answers either. She’s definitely not a demon, not an angel, not human; just an immortal who knocked on the front door of the House of Lamentation three days ago.

Her brothers haven’t left her alone since. You’re happy for them, you really are, but a bitter part of you can’t help but wish her return had waited until after the exchange program ended. At least Lucifer had the courtesy to pull you aside and thank you on his family’s behalf (though you’re quite certain you had nothing to do with your ancestor’s sudden revival), in addition to making a pact with you as a token of his gratitude.

With that, you could have summoned all of them to send you off just as effectively as Lord Diavolo giving the order, but it won’t be the same and you know it. Your only saving grace is Satan, the one brother who’d kept his head and anchored you in the sea of loneliness you’d been set adrift in over the last few days.

“I’m gonna miss you, cat boy.”

“I miss you already,” Satan laughs softly, pulling back with a warm smile. “I’ll stay in touch, I promise.”

You squeeze his arms affectionately and glance past his shoulders at the closed doors. There’s the smallest shred of hope in you that thinks the others will come bursting through any moment now, scrambling for one final chance to see you. You give yourself five seconds, silently counting down to a pipe dream, before pressing a kiss to Satan’s cheek and releasing him.

“It might not seem like it now, but the Devildom will always be here for you,” Lord Diavolo says as the world around you fades to white. “Farewell.”

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“Did you lose track of time at the library again? You missed dinner last night LOL.”

“Levi, be nice!”

Satan only hums quietly in response. He can’t be bothered to correct the assumption; it’s a convenient excuse for when his brothers actually notice he’s missing anyway.

The irony of Levi calling him out isn’t lost on him. While the otaku is still obsessed with his games and shows, he’s no longer as shut-in as he used to be, venturing outside the comforts of his sanctuary more often. Satan has passed by the common room on many occasions to find him and Lilith gaming or binging anime together, and the content expression on Levi’s face proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the void from his Henry’s departure has long been filled.

“Oh, but speaking of,” Lilith sets her cutlery down and smiles shyly at the fourth-born, “I haven’t had the chance to explore the libraries here yet. If it’s not too much trouble, can you show me around and recommend a few books?”

Shrugging non-committedly, Satan continues with his meal, not once looking her in the eye.

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You’ve always wondered how someone with the Avatar of Lust for a brother can have such terrible fashion sense. It should be impossible to go wrong with dressing for a funeral, but you guess life (along with a certain eyesore of a tie) just loves to disappoint you. Still, you’re too glad to have Satan with you right now to care.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime.”

You lean into the demon’s side as he holds an umbrella over both of you. Your eyes are drawn to the flowers he’d placed on your mother’s grave, the only splash of color against the dull tombstone. For the longest time, all you can process is the pitter-patter of the afternoon rain on the plastic wrap of the bouquet, and the comforting weight of Satan’s arm across your shoulders.

“She was in a lot of pain,” you admit after a while, your voice slightly hoarse. “The doctors had to sedate her. She went in her sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” Satan fidgets awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. He’s no stranger to death, but the loss of someone dear is unfamiliar to him. “Perhaps Simeon can find out if —”

“No, no it’s fine. I just — I need to —”

The umbrella is forgotten as Satan catches you, lowering you gently to the ground when your knees give way. You cling to him desperately, and it’s all he can do to draw you close as you start to wail.

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Satan barely makes it three steps into the house before getting pounced on.

“How was it? Where did you go? Ooh you lucky demon, I want to hear all the details!”

“Oi, oi! What are you babbling on about?”

“Don’t act coy with me! Lilith saw you at the florist’s yesterday with the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers!”

“Yesterday? But —”

“How come you never told me someone caught your eye? I would have dolled you up, lent you some of my clothes —” Asmo gasps dramatically. “You didn’t wear that horrid jacket to your date, did you?”

Wrestling a hand free, Satan musses his younger brother’s hair. “None of your business,” he growls, walking away with a smirk when Asmo immediately releases him to fix his appearance. “Who do you take me for, anyway?”

“Aww come on, just give me a hint! Do I know them? Is it someone from RAD? Ooh, did you meet them at the library or —”

Ducking into the safety of his room, Satan shuts the door in Asmo’s face.

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“Thank fuck. Who picked your outfit this time?”

“Barbatos. And shut up.”

You grab Satan’s arm with a laugh and lead him towards your table, politely introducing him as ‘Stan from work’ to any relatives who ask about the handsome young man accompanying you. Satan’s usual mask is in place, but there’s no mistaking the gleam of wonder in his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

“Finally,” you sigh, sinking into your seat and grinning sheepishly at the blond. “Sorry about them. It’s just that they’ve never seen me with anyone, so they’re really curious about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you invited me along. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” The romantic in Satan is openly basking in the ambience of the reception. “You mentioned that your niece had gotten married?”

“Technically my first cousin once removed, but yeah.”

“And you’ve not been seeing anyone?”

“You would have been the first to know if I have,” you tease, nudging him playfully. “Apparently a lot of people are put off by the way I dress. Too modest, they say.”

But not without good reason. The pact marks on your body may be slightly faded from disuse, but they’re still discernable if stared at hard enough: Lucifer’s at the back of your neck; Mammon’s over your heart; Levi’s curled around your right calf; Satan’s circling your left arm; Asmo’s dangerously close to tramp stamp territory; Beel’s just under your navel; and Belphie’s on your ribs at the side you like to sleep on.

Passing them off as tattoos without attracting the wrong kind of attention is a little tricky, so you’d rather take a page from Solomon’s book and cover them up. Being called a prude is easier than dealing with cultists.

(It also helps you to keep your mind off of them, because some wounds continue to hurt even after they heal, so there’s that.)

Sensing the drop in your mood, Satan clears his throat to get your attention. It’s only then that you realize there’s music playing in the background, and couples moving from their tables to the floor.

Your companion stands up and offers you his hand, this time with a genuine smile on his face. “May I have this dance?”

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Lucifer’s tone books no room for argument. “This will be a family event, so I expect your attendance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little escapades over the past few months.”

“Tch.”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Whatever. I’ll be there.”

Satan has to resist the urge to hurl his hardcover at the back of Lucifer’s head when he takes his leave. That’s no way to treat a book, after all.

Beel’s Fangol team has an upcoming match and it’ll be Lilith’s first time watching him play. She’s been hyped up for weeks, so it comes as no surprise that Lucifer would use the opportunity to turn it into a family outing. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

Gone is the stuffy first-born who can spend days in his office if left unchecked. Lucifer is still as strict as ever, still fulfills his duties to Lord Diavolo diligently, but it’s like he’s managed to master balancing work and play overnight. He makes more time for his siblings now, even if it’s to dole out punishments for their endless shenanigans, punishments that vary in severity depending on how cutely Lilith pleads on their behalf.

Lucifer has always doted on her, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. Belphie has even gone as far as corrupting her into pranking him, and she need only bat her eyelashes to get off scot-free.

Lilith was the catalyst for the Fall, her descendent the glue that brought her siblings back together, and her return the final piece in making their family whole again.

But you were family too, Satan thinks sourly, pulling out his D.D.D. to mark the date in his calendar.

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When you invite Satan over to your apartment for tea, he never expected to be introduced to your new housemate: a handsome fellow with chestnut brown hair, sharp jade eyes, a runner’s body, and the softest-looking toe beans he has ever seen in his immortal life.

“Satan, meet Satan!” You hold out the tabby towards him with a shit-eating grin.

Both demon and cat blink owlishly at each other. The blond doesn’t know whether to feel endeared by the feline sharing his name or insulted that you would replace him so easily, but all it takes is a single bop on the nose with a curious paw for him to melt.

Satan the tabby, who normally prefers to scale your shelves and nap between your books, spends the entire day a purring puddle in Satan the demon’s arms, shamelessly relishing in pets and massages to the extent that at some point, you have a very real fear they might just end up absconding back to the Devildom together. Thankfully, some kibble and freshly baked treats help you separate the two for a while, at least long enough for you to get some decent conversation in.

You brew a pot of Earl Grey with the beautifully crafted tea set Barbatos gifted you when you had first moved in, and serve the scones you made earlier in the morning using the baking tools blessed by Luke during your housewarming. You don’t know if the little angel had actually imbued them with Celestial magic, but everything you cook somehow always lifts your spirits when consumed.

Satan has to catch himself in the middle of regaling you with Mammon’s latest half-baked scheme. The wistful look on your face is new; you’re usually eager to hear what his brothers have been up to, but something feels off today. He pours you more tea, slides another scone onto your plate, and waits.

“…Are they happy?” You ask after a while.

The demon knows better than to lie, even if it’s to spare you from the truth he suspects you’re already aware of. “Yes,” he admits grudgingly.

“I’m glad.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

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Lilith stands outside his room, holding a tray of tea and cakes.

“Hey, um, may I come in?” Her smile is both hopeful and uncertain. It’s a gamble, ambushing the fourth-born when he obviously has no interest in her. At best, he’ll make up an excuse to turn her away or just ignore her completely; at worst, well… she doesn’t really want to think about that. To her visible relief, he opens the door wider and steps aside.

Satan clears a space for her to set the tray down. There’s the briefest moment of hesitation before he drags your favorite armchair over and offers her a seat as well. He looks guarded but not openly hostile, a promising sign so far.

“You’ve been in and out of the house lately, so I haven’t had the chance to catch you. I thought we might sit down and talk,” Lilith says, pouring two cups of the hot beverage as she chooses her next words carefully. “The others told me about how you were born, but I understand that you are your own person. I’d like to get to know that person.”

A part of Satan is acutely aware of their one-sided relationship; he is familiar with her through Lucifer, but she has never met him. It makes sense for her to be curious about him, though Satan isn’t so sure he wants to return the favor. She reminds him too much of you in the way she prepares her tea, how she sits on your chair, her shy lopsided smile —

But she’s not you, and you’re not her, Satan has to remind himself lest he commits the same mistake his brothers nearly did after your lineage had been revealed. Now in a convoluted turn of events, it’s you who’s gone and Lilith here, and there’s no reason why he can’t give her a chance and treat her like the sister she could be to him.

It’s what you would have wanted.

Lilith tries not to let her shoulders slump too much when Satan quietly stands up and heads towards his door. She’s prepared to pack up and leave until she spots him grabbing several books from a nearby shelf.

“Have you ever read Mid-Fall Murders?” He asks, handing her a hardcover with a shy smile of his own.

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“What’s it like?”

Satan’s grip on your hand tightens. “I don’t actually know,” he confesses, shuffling closer so that your shoulder and arm are pressed against his. It’s a strange sight, the two of you lying side by side on your bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

“Will it hurt?”

“No.”

You’ve never heard a single word hold so much promise, but you have no reason to doubt the demon’s sincerity. Satan wouldn’t take pity on you just because you’re —

A light knock on the door, and in pokes Simeon’s head. “Ah, little lamb! I’m glad we made it in time.”

“Not so little anymore, Simeon.” You laugh softly, greeting Luke and Solomon as they trail in behind him. Satan brushes his lips over your forehead before getting up to receive your guests.

The day is as ordinary as it can be. You talk and catch up with your friends, trading stories and laughter over cups of tea that neither grow cold nor go empty. When the session turns into a mini book club gathering halfway through, Luke helpfully retrieves the debated titles from the massive shelf in the living room. He takes a while to find them; you’ve accumulated plenty of works over the years: recommendations by Satan, literature published under Simeon’s pseudonym, and handwritten tomes from Solomon to keep you in touch with your magic. The shelf is practically jam-packed with books, the only exception being a corner on the topmost tier, housing a little space that’s empty save for a worn green collar with a rusted bell.

Come sundown the five of you are still neck-deep in discussion, but as with all good things, the get together eventually reaches an end.

“Thanks everyone, it’s been fun,” you say, reclining back in your bed as Satan wordlessly cleans up. You squeeze his hand when he returns to your side and bid the others goodbye. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys soon?”

“About that…” Solomon clears his throat, wearing the smug look that usually accompanies a trick being pulled out of his sleeve, but this time it’s tinged more with excitement than mischief. “Simeon has a little present for you first.”

The guileless smile on the angel’s face betrays nothing as he steps forward and reaches into a small pouch at his hip. “Solomon, Diavolo and I have a theory. Now, keep in mind that this is all very experimental, but if it works, you’ll have more options to choose from, should you so wish.”

And then he brings out a ring.

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“Are you, uh, are you okay?”

“Not in the mood, Mammon.”

“Oi, I’m trying to be nice here! Who do you think covered for your sorry ass when you came back past curfew the other day, huh?”

“What the hell do you want?”

“You may think you’re all stealthy and shit, but your eyes were pretty red that night. I thought you were at a book club meeting. Did something happen?”

“None of your business.”

“Argh, fine then! This is the last time I try to be a good big brother.”

“…Mammon?”

“?”

“...”

“...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh, what are you — you can’t just say that and then run off! Get back here!”

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“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…”

Lilith’s countdown echoes along the deserted hallway, prompting Beel to nudge the deadweight on his back. “Belphie, go get your own hiding place.”

“Mmngh… zzz…”

“Come on, or she’ll win this round with a two for one. Again.”

“…Just dump me somewhere she won’t find me then.”

A tall order, especially since Lilith can easily track them down by listening out for Beel’s stomach and/or Belphie’s snores. Still, the sixth-born lumbers through the house as quietly as he can, doing a one-eighty whenever he hears Lilith’s cheerful hums coming from the opposite direction. Technically they can avoid being caught if they keep moving, but that would be cheating. They hid in the attic previously so that’s a no go, their room’s too obvious, the kitchen too tempting, the common room too exposed…

Maybe Levi’s room? The otaku had sound-proofed his walls to avoid distractions from the outside world when he’s gaming, so it’s an ideal location to hide. He can stash Belphie in the bathtub and run interference until time’s up.

Backtracking, Beel breaks into a light jog towards the other wing, keeping his ears open for their seeker. It’s only because of his heightened senses that he’s able to pick up the faintest traces of magic on one of the walls, causing him to pause in his steps.

“Hmm? Why’d you stop?” Slightly more awake now, Belphie rubs his eyes and slides off his twin, who’s studying the blank space intently. “What’s wrong, Beel?”

“There’s something here, something…”

“It’s just a wall —”

“No, don’t you feel it? I know you weren’t around then, but it’s the same glamor as that time Luke went missing and we —”

Beel goes white. He whispers a name, a name not spoken in the house for years, and a door flickers into view. One hand grabs Belphie’s in a death grip as the other twists the knob and pushes the door open, revealing an old yet familiar room.

The place is devoid of life. Most of the furniture are covered by sheets, resting under thick layers of dust. In the middle sits a tree, sagging with age and soft with rot. Sunken footprints mark the demons’ furtive venture into decrepit memory, and the creaking of floorboards with every step only tethers the growing nightmare closer to reality.

A photo frame crashes to the ground.

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They deserve this.

Satan feels it the moment the spell concealing your room was broken. It had been his way of protecting your memory, ensuring that your sanctuary would only be accessible to those who made the effort to remember you. He cast it about a year after you had left the Devildom, after he realized that leaving your door in plain sight wasn’t doing you any favors.

Hidden away in an alcove at the back of the garden, curled up with a blanket and a thermos of hot tea, Satan slides a bookmark between the pages of his latest novel and leans his head back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

Even this far away from the house, he can hear the cacophony of screams and shouts, objects being flung and shattered into pieces, a muted bang suggesting that a wall has just collapsed. The fallout comes as no surprise; waking up after living the past hundred years or so in a daze will do that to a person – or in this case, demons.

Although the sounds of fighting call to the rage bubbling within him, the vindictive thoughts of his brothers getting their just desserts cool it to a simmer. He knows he’ll have to face them eventually, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“Meow?”

Emerald eyes blink open. There’s a faint rustle from the nearby bushes as a tiny Calico wanders out of the foliage, peering around the garden curiously. Upon spotting the blond demon, it perks up and makes a beeline for him.

“Hm? You’re not Callie. Are you new here, little one?” His mood considerably improved, Satan extends a hand towards the kitten. It skips the finger sniffing step and goes straight to headbutting his palm, begging for attention.

“You’re an affectionate one, aren’t you?” Satan caves immediately and scritches away with a delighted chuckle. He examines the markings on its tri-colored fur, wanting to recognize the friendly feline if it comes back in the future. The Calico is mostly white with patches of brown and black splashed over the back of its neck, near the base of its tail, just under the side of its ribs, and several other spots that seem to collectively resemble a familiar pattern…

Satan’s hand stills. He whispers your name, trembling with hope, and the kitten practically leaps into his arms, nuzzling his chin with a happy purr.