#and i hate him for it because i love his character so much

[mrnightingale]

George doesn't know what the hell do with his face when he's not talking on the Cameos and I think it's pretty cute and funny because it's in those moments when I remember that, unlike Jayden who has more experience with the industry, Edwin is George's fucking first role.

And now I'm mad at Netflix again for taking such an amazing performance and role from him. He was absolutely brilliant impersonating Edwin and they took his work out of his hands. He'd spent a lot of time and effort studying his character, crafting his appearance, he did fucking ballet only to give Edwin his characteristic, elegant manners and way of habit the space. The level of comitement it's amazing. And he did it so well. So. Fucking. Well. That most of us didn't even thought for a bloody second the possibility of this being his first role. I'm still shocked. I still can't believe something like this happening.

Hate them so fucking much. I want to cry. They're destroying Art. The Corporations are destroying Art. They're taking all the work of people who love what they do and sacrifice a lot for doing it, because it's not easy working in the industry, and then spitting in their faces and throwing and kicking and I want to scream. This people aren't numbers. This people effort can't be valuated in viewership and monetary numbers.

I don't want to work for a world like this. I don't want to be an artist if that's what they'll gonna do with me. And yet, it's the only thing I ever wanted, like all of them. All those people are working in something they love, they're working so hard in making something important, something beautiful, and they're doing it. They're doing Art. They're doing things right. And still this fucking system kicks off their arses. Like they did with George and all the crew, all the people behind the show.

They don't deserve this. WE don't deserve this. We as a fandom don't deserve them taking away this show from our hands. They don't care a shit about Art. They don't care a shit about how this impacts in our hopes, in what Art can do in people's lives.

I HATE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH. I want to cry. I want to cry and scream and disappear because I don't want to live in a world like this. It's rotten. It's wicked. How can everything change so much in a few years?

It's disgusting. Capitalism is disgusting. I want to throw up. People aren't fucking numbers.

Let's keep fighting.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Holly Jolly Charade | Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female! Reader

Summary: Turns out, bringing a fake boyfriend to a family dinner worked out just fine.

Prompt: fake dating becomes too real

Part 2 : The Christmas Shift

Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband on Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Have you ever had one of those mornings that just feel perfect? The kind where everything aligns so effortlessly it feels like the universe is on your side?

No traffic, no line at the coffee shop, and all your usual rush-hour chaos smoothed out like butter on warm toast. Especially now, with Christmas looming, when there’s so much to get done, a morning like that feels like a miracle.

But just when you think the day’s off to a perfect start, something always has to disrupt the flow. This time, it’s your phone buzzing with a text message.

Mom:

"I’ve sent our ride to pick you up. No more excuses!"

You groaned audibly and rolled your eyes so hard they almost hurt. The text left an invisible weight pressing on your chest. It wasn’t like you hated your family, but the thought of attending their Christmas dinner was… exhausting. Ever since you moved out, you’d been dodging these gatherings like a pro.

In the first couple of years, they were understanding. Your excuse? A new job, fresh out of college, with long hours and no time for travel. They’d bought it. Then, a few years later, you said you were busy building your business, and that worked too.

But now? Now your business was thriving, and worse, everyone knew it. Thanks to that damn magazine article, your entire extended family knew about your company’s success. Including how much profit it was making. You should’ve refused the interview. You should’ve told your friends to leave you out of it.

Now there were no excuses left. Your family saw right through them.

You tossed your phone onto your desk with a huff and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to come up with a last-minute plan. The thought of sitting at that table, sharing space with your aunt of all people, made your stomach twist.

She was the epitome of judgmental nosiness, prying into every corner of your private life, not because she cared but because she wanted to compare. She loved knowing someone was doing worse than she was—it was like her secret Christmas joy.

You groaned again, typing furiously on your phone. “How to get away from Christmas family dinner” was the search query, but every suggestion seemed ridiculous or impractical. You sighed, slumping back in your chair.

A sudden knock at the door startled you.

“Come in,” you said, not bothering to glance up from your phone.

The door creaked open, and your vice president, Bucky Barnes, stepped in. He held a stack of papers in one hand, his other shoved casually into his pocket. His loose, long hair, still a work in progress, framed his annoyingly handsome face. He was wearing a crisp blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black pants, and the faintest smirk on his lips.

“Here’s the report,” he said, stepping closer and placing it on your desk. “Just need your signature, and the team can have an early paycheck.”

You glanced up briefly, pen already in hand. "Why didn't the finance guy give this to me?"

"Because they're afraid of you." He leaned against the desk, folding his arms, his smirk growing into something more mischievous.

“You look like someone Googling excuses to avoid their ex,” he teased, tilting his head toward your phone. “Or did your mom finally pin you down for the family Christmas dinner?”

You shot him a withering glare, tapping the pen against the report in irritation. “Mind your business, Barnes.”

“Hard not to,” he said with a shrug. “You’ve been muttering under your breath about aunts for the past five minutes. Also, your face? It’s doing that scrunchy thing again. Looks like someone ate a lemon.”

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms, staring daggers at him. “You’re awfully chatty for someone who’s been begging me for months to let him quit.”

“Begging?” He scoffed, a mock look of offense crossing his face. “I just said I wanted to try something new. But nooo, you’re like, ‘Stay here, Bucky. You’re the best VP ever.’” He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically, earning an eye roll from you.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, snatching the pen and signing the document with more force than necessary.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you’d miss me?” He grinned, grabbing the papers and straightening them with a satisfied nod.

“No. It’s my way of saying you’d never survive on your own.”

He laughed, heading for the door. “Well, good luck with Christmas dinner. Don’t forget—misery loves company. Or in your case, a nosy aunt and smug cousins.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you continued scrolling through your phone. Your search results were less than helpful, but then one suggestion caught your eye: “Tell them you’re traveling with your boyfriend.”

The idea wasn’t entirely ridiculous. Your mom had been nagging you about finding someone and settling down for ages. Without thinking it through, you began typing a message.

“I can’t. I already have a trip planned with my boyfriend. Didn’t you want me to get married?”

Satisfied with the excuse, you hit send and placed your phone on the desk.

Not even two seconds later, the screen lit up with an incoming video call. It was your mom.

“Crap!” you yelped, fumbling for the phone. In your panic, you almost dropped it, but Bucky, quick as ever, snatched it mid-air. Unfortunately, his finger brushed the screen, accidentally accepting the call.

Your mother’s delighted face filled the screen. “Oh my goodness, you didn’t lie! You have a boyfriend. And a handsome one at that!”

Bucky froze, his eyes widening in shock. “Uh… I… wait—”

Your mom wasn’t listening. She leaned closer to her phone camera, grinning ear to ear. “It’s so nice to meet you! Both of you are still at the office, I see. Perfect. Cancel your plans and bring him to the family dinner!” With that, she hung up before you could say a word.

You stared at the blank screen, your hand still frozen mid-air. “What the heck just happened?”

Bucky turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “I think I just got adopted as your boyfriend.”

You groaned, rubbing your forehead. “This is a disaster. I texted her saying I had plans with my boyfriend so I wouldn’t have to go to dinner.”

“Do you even have a boyfriend?”

“No!” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “And now my mom thinks we’re together!”

Before Bucky could respond, your assistant knocked on the door. “Ma’am, the driver is waiting downstairs for you.”

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to grab your coat.

Bucky leaned casually against the doorframe, watching you with an amused expression. “I could play along, you know.”

“You? Helping me?” You scoffed, slipping your arms into the coat.

He shrugged, grabbing his own jacket. “I didn’t say I’d do it for free.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

“I want to resign. And a generous bonus while we’re at it.”

You gaped at him, incredulous. “Seriously? Why do you want to quit so badly? You’ve got great benefits here.”

He followed you out of the office, adjusting his jacket as he walked. “I want to explore more. I’ve learned a lot here, but it’s time for something new.”

You glanced at him, half-annoyed, half-impressed by his confidence. “Unbelievable.”

“Come on,” he said with a mischievous grin. “How hard can pretending to be your boyfriend really be? I’ll even charm your aunt.”

“Oh, this is going to be a nightmare,” you muttered as the two of you stepped into the elevator.

“Maybe,” Bucky said with a smirk, “but at least it won’t be boring.”

As you stepped into the lobby, your eyes immediately landed on the sleek black Maybach parked by the curb. The driver stood beside it, wearing a formal suit and gloves, ready to escort you to the inevitable Christmas dinner. Of course, it was your mom’s car—a glaring reminder that she always got her way.

You stood frozen for a moment, torn between irritation and resignation. The reality of the situation hit you like a weight: there was no escape this time. You chewed the inside of your cheek, contemplating running back upstairs and locking yourself in your office.

Before you could make a move, you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you found Bucky standing there, casually slipping on his coat.

“Fine,” you sighed. “I’ll fire you.”

His lips quirked into a triumphant grin. “Finally.”

“But,” you added sharply, pointing a finger at him, “if you want to leave on good terms, you’d better play your part well. Convince my family—especially my aunt—that we’re a couple.”

Bucky gave you a mock salute, his grin widening. “Got it. I’ll play my part like I’m gunning for an Oscar.”

You nearly laughed at his response, a small chuckle escaping despite yourself. “Let’s go.”

Once inside the car, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through pictures of your family. Handing it to Bucky, you said, “Don’t worry about my cousins—they’re pretty cool and don’t ask too many questions. The real trouble is my aunt.” You pointed at a specific photo.

“That one,” you said, gesturing to a woman in her sixties, decked out in pearls, bright red lipstick, and chunky jade bracelets on both wrists. “She’s the one you need to watch out for.”

Bucky studied the picture, raising an eyebrow. “She looks… interesting. Definitely has a lot of character.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to put it. She’s the type who compares everything—lives, careers, relationships. If she starts asking questions, keep your answers vague. She’ll latch onto anything you say.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully, his expression serious. “Got it. What about your parents?”

“They’ll be relieved the moment they see me walking in with a boyfriend,” you said dryly.

He nodded again, absorbing the information like he was preparing for a mission. “Then I’ll make sure to play my part well.”

🎄🎄🎄🎄

Inside, the house was bursting with holiday cheer. Laughter echoed through the halls, mingling with the warm hum of Christmas music. The living room was a festive wonderland, filled with garlands, twinkling lights, and an enormous tree decorated to perfection.

The moment you stepped through the door, a woman in an elegant dress swept toward you, her arms outstretched.

“Finally!” your mom, Robin, exclaimed, pulling you into a side hug. Her perfume was a comforting mix of cinnamon and vanilla, and her excitement was almost infectious.

Then her eyes landed on Bucky, and her expression shifted into one of pure delight. “My prayers have been answered,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Come here!”

Before Bucky could react, she pulled him into a warm hug. He blinked, caught off guard but recovering quickly, wrapping an arm around her lightly.

“I’m sorry for the late introduction, ma’am,” Bucky said smoothly, stepping back with a polite smile. “I’m Bucky.”

You stepped in before your mom could ask questions. “We just became official recently.”

Robin’s face lit up even more, her eyes darting between the two of you. “Good! Welcome, Bucky.”

“Thank you,” he said with a slight bow, his tone respectful but calm.

As you stood with your mom and Bucky in the foyer, a woman approached, her presence unmistakable. She wore pearls as if they were a permanent part of her body, bright red lipstick that seemed freshly applied, and her signature jade bracelets jangled with every step. Her hair was big—almost comically so—and styled to perfection. It was your aunt Teresa, the one you had warned Bucky about.

“Well, well, well,” Teresa said, her eyes scanning Bucky like he was a prize. “Is this the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?”

You stiffened, forcing a tight smile. “Yes.”

Bucky, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a friendly grin. “Bucky Barnes. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Oh, call me Teresa,” she purred, giving him an appraising look. “You’re quite the charmer. And so handsome! No wonder she finally brought someone home.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, struggling to maintain your composure.

“So,” Teresa continued, her tone dripping with faux curiosity, “how long have you two been together?”

“Not too long,” you said curtly, trying to end the conversation.

“A little over three months,” Bucky added smoothly, his tone warm and engaging.

“Three months?” Teresa said, arching a perfectly shaped brow. “Well, you’d better lock him up, dear,” she said, turning to you. “We’ll be planning another wedding soon!”

“Teresa,” Robin interjected gently, noticing your discomfort. “Why don’t we give them a moment to settle in?”

You took the opportunity to grab Bucky’s arm and drag him away, your jaw clenched.

As soon as you were out of earshot, you muttered, “That’s just the beginning. Wait until she finishes her fifth glass of wine.”

Bucky chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “She’s... entertaining.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s one way to put it.”

Later, Bucky met your cousins in the den, and as you predicted, they were laid-back and easy to talk to. They exchanged jokes and stories, asking Bucky only a few lighthearted questions about his work. You watched from the sidelines, thankful that at least some of your family wasn’t exhausting.

At dinner, everyone gathered around the massive dining table, the centerpiece adorned with candles and holiday-themed decorations. The atmosphere was warm and festive, but the moment Teresa began talking, you felt the familiar weight of dread settle in.

“So,” Teresa began, her voice carrying over the clinking of cutlery, “my son just secured a new oil permit. Big deal, you know. And my daughter-in-law? She got promoted to partner at her firm. Isn’t that wonderful?”

You nodded politely, forcing a neutral expression. “That’s great, Aunt Teresa.”

“And what about you?” Teresa asked, her tone dripping with condescension. “I hear your little business is doing well. But it must be so stressful, hmm? All that work with no one to share it with.”

You bit back a retort, focusing on your plate instead.

Bucky leaned toward you and whispered, “This is boring.”

“Yup,” you murmured in agreement, spearing a piece of food with your fork. “She always does this. She’s the one who insists on family dinners.”

The two of you exchanged quiet remarks, completely ignoring Teresa’s continued self-praise. Finally, she noticed and turned her attention to both of you.

“Are you two even listening?” Teresa snapped, her bracelets clinking as she gestured dramatically. “And tell me, when are you two getting married?”

Bucky didn’t miss a beat. He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Well, Teresa, we want to make sure we don’t rush it. After all, we wouldn’t want to overshadow the amazing achievements of your son and daughter-in-law.”

The room went silent for a moment before your cousins stifled laughter, and Teresa pursed her lips, clearly caught off guard.

After dinner, you helped your mom arrange desserts on the table in the kitchen. The aroma of freshly baked pies and cinnamon filled the air. Robin looked pleased, humming softly as she arranged plates.

From the dining room, Teresa’s voice drifted in as she tried to corner Bucky for more questions.

“So, Bucky,” Teresa began, her tone overly sweet. “Tell me, what’s it like working with her? She must be such a perfectionist.”

Bucky didn’t falter. “Actually, she’s brilliant. One of the smartest and most hardworking people I’ve ever met.”

Teresa narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly fishing for more. “But she must be difficult sometimes. Don’t you think?”

Bucky smiled, his tone calm but firm. “No more difficult than anyone else who’s successful. If anything, she makes work more enjoyable.”

You overheard the exchange and couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude. For all his teasing, Bucky had your back.

Later, when the two of you were finally alone in the den, you let out a long breath and slumped onto the couch. Bucky poured himself a glass of whiskey from the bar cart and sank into the armchair across from you.

“You’re fired, Bucky,” you said, though there was no heat in your voice.

He chuckled, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Thanks, boss.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “Seriously, thanks. I’m glad you came.”

“Anytime,” he replied, sipping his whiskey. “Just don’t make me sit next to Teresa again.”

You both laughed, the tension of the evening finally starting to fade.

You leaned back on the couch, your fingers tapping the glass of wine in your hand. The room had gone quiet after the bustling chaos of the family dinner, and Bucky was nursing his whiskey with a far-off look in his eyes.

“I still don’t get it,” you said, breaking the silence. “Why do you keep wanting to quit?”

Bucky’s gaze shifted to you, his expression unreadable at first. Then, he set his glass down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Because I want to be on the same level as you,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a weight that made you pause.

You blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“I want to start my own business,” he explained, his eyes meeting yours. “Be my own boss. I’ve learned so much working with you, but I need to prove to myself that I can do it too.”

You studied him, trying to piece together the sudden intensity in his words. “That’s it? You’ve got some big plans, huh?”

Bucky exhaled a soft chuckle, but there was something else in his eyes—something unspoken. “Yeah, big plans,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I’ve always admired you, you know. Not just for what you’ve built, but for who you are.”

You tilted your head, still not fully grasping the weight of his words. “You admire me?”

He looked at you, his blue eyes holding yours longer than usual. “Yeah. For a long time now.”

The air between you shifted, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. You thought back to all the years you’d worked together, the arguments, the jokes, and the moments where he always seemed to have your back.

But you dismissed the thought, brushing off the flicker of something deeper. “Well,” you said, forcing a grin, “I’m glad you’re ambitious. Just don’t expect me to give you glowing references when you leave.”

Bucky laughed, leaning back into the armchair. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

That year marked the first time you’d asked Bucky to pretend to be your boyfriend, a favor born out of desperation. He played the part so convincingly that even your family believed it.

The second year came, and to your surprise, you asked him again. By then, it had become a strange tradition—your fake boyfriend who seamlessly charmed your family while sparing you the agony of invasive questions.

By the third year, something had shifted. The lines between pretending and reality blurred, and you couldn’t shake the growing warmth you felt whenever he was near. It wasn’t just gratitude anymore—it was something deeper.

When the fourth year rolled around, you made a decision. No more pretending. You told him you wanted to stop the charade, but instead of ending things, you found yourselves starting something real.

And in the fifth year, you stood side by side at the altar, promising forever to the man who had been beside you all along.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@mostlymarvelgirl

@scott-loki-barnes

@kjah97

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

A/N : There will be part 2. I'll use the prompt from @the-slumberparty

[sugary-daydreams3]

Quiet inbetween [Sukuna x Reader]

Summary: Collections of quiet, cozy, intimate moments you share with Sukuna, who thinks you two won't last a year. Someone who used to live a wild, fast-paced, loud lifestyle couldn't possibly be fit for a long-term relationship. But he doesn't know that you're the one he needed this whole time.

Word Count: 3.7K words

Rating: Mostly fluff with a little spice (sexual content) at the end, but no full explicit content. Mostly T with a little M.

A/N: Happy holidays y'all. This might be my last fic posted in the year so I hope you guys transition into the new year safely. Goodness, do I love writing my A.U. version of Sukuna. So fun and flirty that he makes me blush sometimes and I control what he says. But I guess that's a good thing, right. Sadly my next fic is dealing with a not so fun topic, haha. (It's Gojo-centric, so you might know where I'm going with this) Anyways, stay safe out there and I'll see you again in 2025. Enough yapping from me, enjoy!

Normal, quiet moments tend to bring discomfort within Sukuna. Dating trouble as a teen limited his time to sit and enjoy the small pleasures of life. He was all about the grand, overwhelming, taboo pleasures that one wouldn’t dare chase but rather daydream about. Or worse, make simulation games about and live out their guilty pleasures vicariously through fictional characters. But with taboo pleasures come consequences which landed him in jail for some time.  

Within the year after his release, he met you which slowly inspired him to alter his fast, vicious lifestyle. You introduced him to things he never would have found himself participating in. Things he used to tease his twin brother for being a sheep for society for. A mom-and-pop coffee shop was one of them.  

“How do you drink this shit?” Sukuna sticks out his tongue. Tanned liquid trapped in your mouth almost spills. Air blows from your nose, signifying your amusement at Sukuna’s first experience with coffee.  

Swallowing down the first sip of your coffee, your eyes admire Sukuna’s childlike distaste for your go-to morning beverage. “Because I order mine with cream, sugar, and caramel. You’re pretty much drinking burnt black water.”  

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”   

You give him a “really?” look. “I said you should start out with the caramel Frappuccino but you said, and I quote.” You notch your voice down several pitches lower. “The hell I look like drinking that sissy shit.”  

“You could have recommended me any other drink but this. This was a terrible first impression.”  

“I can order you another one to make up for it.”  

Sukuna pouts. “I’ll pass. I fear I’ll be disappointed again.”  

“Sukuna, you just drink straight black coffee, you can’t write the whole thing off just because you had one variation of it. That’s like saying “I hate potatoes” because you ate unsalted, lukewarm fries.” Sukuna scrunches his face.  

“That’s not the same.”  

“Yes, it is. It’s a perfect comparison.”  

“It’s two completely different scenarios. You really thought you schooled me with that, huh.”  

“Shut up. I’m ordering you a new drink.”  

Waiting for his redemption cup, Sukuna stares at you typing away on your laptop computer. Your hair curtains over part of your face, tempting Sukuna to reach over and fix it. Yet the messy hair curtain highlights your beauty so effortlessly, he couldn’t stop adoring your natural radiance.  

The strong smell of roast occasionally makes its mark. Ranges of chatter mingle with the loud cycle of brewing and baking. Quirky, cheesy posters hang all over, providing a drowning sense of positivity and relatability. Generic chill music slithers through the atmosphere, failing to chill Sukuna’s social anxiety. Thankfully, his new drink just came to save the moment.  

Taking a drink from the flat white laced with sugar and cream, he sits back to allow his brain to register. His eyebrows raise with a small smack of his mouth, giving you some hope that coffee redeemed itself on the oh so great Sukuna’s tastebuds.   

“Well?” You ask impatiently.  

“Not bad. Could use more sugar but it’s drinkable.” Sukuna reviews. A pleased smile killed your worry. “I’m glad you gave it a second chance. I hope we can have more coffee dates like this.”  

Sukuna narrows his eyes. “This is a date?”   

Your eyes roll. “No this is a job interview.”  

“I’m not one for customer service but if I get to look at you all day long and the pay is good then sign me up.” You hate that something as corny as that made you blush.  

“Hush Sukuna, of course this is a date. This is like our twelfth time seeing each other, I like to think all of the time we spent together so far wasn't a waste of time.”  

“Ooh someone’s no-nonsense.” Sukuna smirks, large arms crossed.  

You sigh, “I’m just over the hookups and the flings. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just one-and-done me.”  

“Eh, all of the one-night conquests and strictly sex ordeals were starting to get stale. You got a nice face with a body to match. You’re on no bullshit and are fun for the most part. You haven't bored me yet so I don’t mind continuing this.”  

“Yet?”  

“I tend to get bored with my women so I wouldn't hold hope of this lasting past a year. Just letting you know so the heartbreak will hurt a little less.”  

You smirk, amused by his lack of filter. “Well, a year will be record breaking compared to my recent relationships these last few years. So bring it.”  

Your polished nails navigate the grassy fields of dusty pink, natural hair oil inked on your fingertips. Your poor thighs are weighed down under his dumbbells for arms. Your other hand caress Sukuna’s right bicep, fixating on the jet black tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. He rubs your left knee as he rests against your stomach.  

Sukuna releases a deep sigh, letting go of the temporary stresses of life. He’ll rather die than admit it but this is what he mostly looks forward to when he goes about his day. It took him a while to get used to you being positioned behind him, often side eyeing the first few times you two were like this.   

Call it trust issues. Slam the non-medical diagnosis of PTSD resulted from a rough upbringing and life as a criminal. Or if we’re really getting psychological, throw out the fancy “internalized misanthropy” word. Re-fucking-gardless, he’s always been highly aware and on guard whenever people are in close proximity to him, ever since he was a kid.  

Now, the more he allows himself to turn his brain off in your lap the easier you hear him lightly snoring within several minutes. You giggle as his resting figure emits loud snores thirty minutes in of scalp scratching and head caressing.   

“Sweet dreams.” You reach down to peck warmth on his forehead.  

Your wishes go unnoticed as child-like ease warps itself across face tattoos and a sharp jawline. A surprisingly dynamic clash.  

Your laughter saturates the kitchen space accompanied by music from the vintage radio. Flour dressed your behemoth all over, making it the sight of the century. Sukuna frowns as he attempts to smooth the pizza dough with the rolling pin. Tears edge your eyes; the catastrophe he was causing was funnier than any standup comedy.  

“Hush. You're breaking my focus.” Sukuna was struggling to knead the dough enough to be a thin foundation. It usually ends up shaping to be a deep dish or just a regular sized pizza. This was his third effort to mold the pizza, with two “epic failures” baking in the oven.  

When your laughter demoted to light chuckles, you rub his arm for support. “You know I can help you shape the dough. It took me fifteen tries before making an objectively decent pizza.” Sukuna shakes his head.  

“That’s because you were the one making it. It’s gonna be perfect this time.” Sukuna smooths out the dough and smirks at his “perfectly” thin pizza. You roll your eyes and walk over to gather the cheese and other toppings.  

The pizza rises within the oven, gluing the toppings within the cheese. Sukuna watches it carefully from the kitchen island, like his life depended on whether this Thursday night dinner was great or not.   

A marathon of T.V. commercial ramblings was bugging background noise as you tidied up. The other two pizzas sat on the cooling rack, being forgotten tasty mistakes. Flour ages his hair many decades, snowing down his chest with every tiny movement. He turns to see an unlikely troublemaker look down at him, a small hill of flour ready to be thrown from your palm. Sukuna narrows his eyes with a challenging look.  

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”  

“Game on.” You threw it, igniting a two-man war.  

The remaining time for the perfect pizza to cook filled with flour fights, spotting majority of the kitchen with white powder. The cooking timer goes off as you two lay across the table exchanging flour and zeal between prolonged smooches.

This epic fantasy was seducing your imagination during the mundane hours of the late evening. You sense Sukuna spying on you and your book from the corner of your eye. However, the clever arrangement of words trailing above your bookmark helps you ignore him.  

“How do you read these things? That shit looks bigger than The Bible.” Sukuna pokes at the spine of your novel, trailing over the gold-engrained lettering.  

“I don’t judge stories based on length. If it’s engaging enough then I wouldn’t mind reading three hundred-plus pages of something.”  

“Where do you find the time to invest in a story that long?” Sukuna wasn’t even teasing at this point; he was genuinely curious.  

“People watch 10 seasons worth of television or animes with more than 100 episodes.”  

“Watching TV and reading are different no matter how much you try to make them feel the same. I can simply turn on the T.V. and watch 100 episodes of something without exerting much energy. You have to sit up, read so many words, and decipher hundreds of pages worth of story. It’s not the same.”  

“True, I’ll give you that. I just find it funny that people draw the line at consuming a story through reading only because you have to put a little more effort in it.” You bounced back.  

Sukuna rubbed his chin. “I remember being into poetry and haikus a lot as a teenager. But I started getting involved in other shit so I lost interest along the way.”   

You snap to him, no longer being a silent witness to a passionate kissing scene. “You like poetry?”  

“I suppose. I always liked how poets managed to craft thoughts so elegantly. Perfectly describing the complicated or unsaid.”  

“You know the local bookstore down the street has a whole section of poetry books. What’s your favorite poets? I could buy you some of their latest work.” Your comforter became a temporary bookmark with your book lying face down.  

“Hmm, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I used to buy a bunch of random poetry or haiku books and kept the ones that stuck with me. There is one writer that I really like though...”  

You wait in anticipation as you witness him in thought. Simple things like racking his brain makes him a cutie. Sukuna snaps his fingers.  

“Ahh, Yosa Takahama is his name. His work is usually written in Japanese but some translators re-publish them in their mother’s tongue. His work is hard to find around here though. I don’t even know how I managed to snag one of his books in the first place.”  

Despite the challenge, you were determined to get it for him. “I’ll figure out a way to get you one. That way we could be reading buddies.”  

“You don’t have to do all of that, doll. You’ll rip your hair out trying to find those books. I’m fine watching you ignore me in favor of a book that can knock your teeth out.” You chuckle.  

During the rest of the night, you noticed the boredom on Sukuna’s face as he mindlessly consumes television. The least you can do is try to hunt down this haiku book for him. Dating him for some time, he confessed to losing touch with so many hobbies he grew up with over the last few years. You wanted to bring that inner child back to life, killed by proving to the world how tough he was.  

Getting him to read something that actually interests him can be another way to embrace the innocent pleasures in life. You can tell he misses that wild delinquency some days, but you hope he doesn’t miss it enough to end this relationship over. If you can find it, hopefully it can be a building block that rebuilds his new path after leaving the old behind. Anything to help you be closer to him.  

6 weeks later 

Sukuna emerges from the bathroom. The odors of the food he cooked from his restaurant today were replaced with standard soap and his natural scent. Like every other night, you sat with your book, seemingly ignoring Sukuna’s lingering stare.  

After dressing himself, he sinks on the mattress and attempts to lay against his pillow. His thick neck isn't met with the soft cushion but instead a hard surface in the middle area. He stares at his pillow, offended for it not providing comfort, so he lifts it up. A white hardcover book reveals.  

“What’s this?” He asked, not turning to you yet. You shift from the words to your boyfriend’s confusion. “I don’t know where that came from. Maybe the book fairy paid you a visit.” You played dumb.  

“You’re so corny.” He holds up the book.  

“A corny girl you’ve been dating for almost a year now.”  

“Quiet. I’m trying to see what this is.” Sukuna didn’t even examine the title, the pages of the book flutter until he lands on a random page. He reads aloud.  

“Vindictive winter / A white, mighty rabbit looks / betrayed by the king / ...wait.” Sukuna looks at you and you copy his shocked expression.  

“This is Yosa Takahama’s stuff. How did you even get this? This must have cost you a fortune.”  

“It was costly and took me weeks to find a readable copy but the look on your face right now makes it worth it. I wanted you to read with me instead of being a T.V. zombie. Even if that means reading mind fuckery haikus.” You chuckle.  

Sukuna grabs your waist from the side and unleashes many wet pecks around your cheek, neck, and upper chest. You giggle as you brush his hair and hug him back.  

“I appreciate it.”  

“No big deal.” You replicate his cool cat version of “You’re welcome.” that he usually throws at you. Sukuna smirks at the playful imitation.  

The rest of the evening is spent with you two lost in your own worlds of literature. Your brains mixed imagination, broadened perspectives, and emotional intelligence from honeyed words inked against the white.

“I’m too big for this tub. You barely have any room to stretch your legs.” Sukuna commented.  

He adjusted his position behind you, the bubbles shifting from his large body. Your feet rested on the tip of the tub to keep from smushing against the porcelain. You turn to him, offering a reassuring smile. He snickers at your ridiculous face mask, particularly the cucumbers concealing your eyes.  

“No, you’re not. You say that every time you get in with me. You’re fine Kuna, really.”  

Sukuna rests his arms around the top edges of the tub, leaning back to make himself comfortable in his slightly cramped soak. The warm water, Epsom salt, and meditation music playing from your phone kneads away the hidden tension that plagues his body from the everyday.  

“Before I met you, I haven't taken a bath in almost fifteen years.” He confesses.  

“That sounds so disgusting out of context.” You cringe. Sukuna chuckles.   

“You know what I mean.”  

“I can’t imagine going that long without a bath. Baths are way better than showers.” You admitted.  

“Showers are for a quick wash. Baths are more for relaxation.”  

“I shower for fifteen minutes minimum, thirty-five minutes max. I spend about three minutes just letting the hot water hit my body and think about whatever. There’s no way I can just shower for ten minutes or less.”  

“Is that why you’re so smoking.” Sukuna flirted. You shake your head, “That was so corny, Kuna. C’mon you can flirt better than that.”  

“You’re right. I just wanted to see your reaction.”   

You two enjoy each other’s company. The heat protects you from winter and the sheet of bubbles float around and pop within. Sukuna arms lay over yours, rubbing over your wrist. Sukuna focuses on your face and develops a sense of mischief.  

“Babydoll.”  

“Yeah?”  

“Turn around for me.”  

You quirk a brow but obeyed by slowly turning his way. In a swift motion, Sukuna moves forward and bites off the cucumber sitting on your right eye. Your right vision sees Sukuna munching on your edible eye mask.  

“Really, Kuna? You couldn’t resist temptation to eat that?” You scolded. You take off the other cucumber, abandoning your hopes to keep your eyelids nice and fresh. Sukuna steals the other cucumber from your hand and flings it in his mouth.  

“You’re impossible to relax with sometimes.”  

“Thanks for the snack.” Sukuna mumbles through chewing.  

You sigh then lay against his chest and close your eyes. If he was going to interrupt your beauty routine the least he can do is be your pillow.

Sukuna big toe hugs your own after caressing your right foot. Both of your feet poke out from the thick blanket, suffering from the gentle lashes of the nippy air condition. You rest your head on his squishy but firm chest, goosebumps forming from his rough hands brushing your skin.   

“We should light the fireplace.” You suggested.  

Sukuna let out a lazy sigh, “What you really mean is that I should light it.”  

“Yeah, you should.”  

“I could but I fear I’ll turn into a popsicle.”  

You giggle. “Hey, at least you’ll taste good.”  

Sukuna smirks, “I already taste good. You should know out of anyone.”  

You playfully shrug. “Eh, you’re alright. No fine dining though.”  

“Oh really?”  

“Yep.”  

“How about you taste this then.”  

Sukuna leans down and traps your lips in the moment. His lips were smaller than yours yet they managed to govern the heat stirring between each lingering kiss. The frigid air in the room is forgotten in your minds as you and Sukuna make out under the grey blanket. After a couple minutes of sensual touching and lip pulls, Sukuna goes for your neck.  

“Well?” Sukuna lands soft bites inches under your chin.  

“I was just kidding earlier but that was...”  

“Better than fine dining?”  

“I don’t know what’s better than fine dining but, yeah, better than that.”  

Sukuna chuckles, “Glad to remind you.”  

Sukuna “accidentally” lands a hard bite just above your collarbone, caging a pleasured groan within closed lips. Sukuna kisses the forming red patch, “Sorry baby, got a little greedy there.”  

“I hope I give you a brain freeze.” You joked, trying to take your mind off the aching spot.  

Sukuna hooks his finger around the side of your silk underwear, his other hand slowly appreciates your ass. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Your body slowly rocks on top of him, the yellow and orange from the fireplace illuminate your dips and curves. The aftershocks of your second orgasm calm down, giving you the signal to stop riding him. One hand caresses the trimmed hairs sprinkled across Sukuna’s chest. The other traces the small gold chain decorating his pecs. Sukuna squeezes the body fat from your hips then pats your left butt cheek.  

You hop off and lay down on the blanket you set down for your second round. Sukuna pulls off the condom and gets up to throw it away. The contained fire warms your naked body from a distance, defending you from the army of white cold. You hum while the fire entertains you until Sukuna comes back. He’s wearing the boxers he had on earlier with the embroidered knife patterns. Where he got those kinds of boxers you may never know.  

Sukuna drops the pillow he stole from the couch then sits down on the blanket. He pulls you towards him and you two lie down together. You perform his signature trait, pushing his hair back, enabling his wild look. Sukuna traces your spine, quietly admiring both how strong and weak one’s bone structure could be.  

“I never thought I would enjoy silly things like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.”  

“It’s silly?”  

“Not really. I guess I just associated this with Christmas activities. Christmas always seemed too cheesy to me so I associated things like this as silly holiday stuff.”  

“Yeah, I get it. Sex in front of the fireplace, just silly wholesome Christmas activities.” You joked. You instantly felt Sukuna’s laughter rumble throughout his chest. After calming down he gives your arm a light pinch.  

“You know what I mean.”  

“I’m just happy you allowed me to bring some mellow in your life. I remember when I met you, you were always in some crazy illegal trouble. It seemed like I could barely keep up with you and your fast-paced lifestyle.”  

“Yeah, it was fun for a while, I’ll admit. Even getting caught had some sort of thrill. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I just feel over it.”  

You chuckle, “Not a spring chicken as you used to be.”  

“Yeah. I suppose every hot shot has their limit.”  

“Well, I’m proud that you’re beginning to settle down. I know your brother is too.” You rub his cheek.  

“I was surprised when he offered to help me set up my fight clubhouse. He’s usually against violence and shit.”  

“Maybe he thought that it would be a nice distraction from your life with crime. Even if it meant supporting you doing something he also doesn’t like. Like a lesser of two evils kind of thing.”  

“I never knew someone so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time more than him.” Sukuna said. You giggle then sprawl your hands across Sukuna’s abdomen, trailing over the ridges in a playful matter. Sukuna tender gaze studies your features as he softly pulls little cushions of your skin.  

“Thank you for sticking with me.”  

You look up to see the wild orange shadowing his strong features. His usual too cool-for-school attitude was replaced with a loving nature only reserved for you. A nature molded by small, seemingly insignificant moments sparked by a mutual agreement of casual dating. You plant a few kisses against his jawline then lay back on his chest.  

Before your eyes close for the night, you slur a few words that gets a smile out of Sukuna. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”  

[arabellasleopardcoat]

I didn't reblog this yesterday because I was at my nails appointment, waiting and got till she starts to lose the baby. My eyes started to get wet and I couldn't explain to the manicurist why I was crying so I stopped before my name got called.

First of all, the positives: I am so happy the girls have mended their relationship and that the twins got so much "screentime" this chapter. Poor Erryk. I love him madly now, you cannot take him from me. You have made an amazing job of developing his character, which the show did not do

VISERYS I HATE YOU!!!! What do you mean less than a moon? KILL HIM, KILL THAT PERVERTED OLD MAN. While you did an amazing job at showing his soft side, I still remember and hope winter is coming for him.

(I am back at my Stark obession and currently attempting a Cregan fic. I wanted Jon or Robb to fuck me dumb when I watched GOT, sue me. Older me can now see Ned's appeal too. He probably has one, with how much Catelyn loved having his babies)

The scene where she lost the babies hurt me physically. I now get what you said and why you laughed when I hoped the baby was valyrian to spare her the pain, you cruel, cruel woman.

Daemon. Bah. I hope he grovels. I am even more mad at him for saying he is not reading the letters (also I voted in all the polls you posted and sort of spam liked your blog, upps?) having her go through all that alone, making Viserys and Alicent's marriage be all about him and now having the nerve to show up. I hope he suffers. I hope he gets jealous of Erryk and that he is bitter, and he chokes on his misery, I hope he crawls and begs for forgiveness. Only then I will be at peace.

I am a bit much, I think. Cannot wait to see what you do next! Also I really want to read the George fic.

Tormented Spirit | 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.

At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.

Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.

"Daughter." "Sister."

These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.

Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."

Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?

Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."

Your face drops as you turn to her.

She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.

Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."

Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."

Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"

You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."

Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."

Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.

The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"

He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"

You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.

"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."

You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."

Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."

You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.

You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.

You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.

"What?" you knit your brows at him.

"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."

He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"

Your maester nods, "highly likely."

You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."

You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.

"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.

It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."

Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.

We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.

"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."

Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"

"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.

"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."

Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"

"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"

This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."

Corlys sighs, "as I was-"

"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.

Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"

Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"

Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"

Daemon whips his head his direction.

"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"

"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"

Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."

His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."

Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"

Daemon clenches his plate

"And she never mentioned thi—"

"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.

Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"

"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.

Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.

"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!

He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.

He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.

You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.

He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.

He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢����𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢

A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.

He's read enough.

Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.

You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.

Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."

You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"

"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."

Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."

" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.

"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."

You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.

"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."

"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.

He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."

You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."

"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."

Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."

He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."

"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."

Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.

"Continue!"

He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"

"He is," you scratch your eyes.

"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."

You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.

"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."

You feel sick, sicker.

"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."

You heave as you continue walking around.

"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."

You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.

"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."

"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.

He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."

"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"

He is taken off guard when you shove him back.

"Even you are against me!"

Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."

You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"

His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.

"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"

"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"

"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"

He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.

You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.

Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.

"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."

"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"

"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"

He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.

"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."

He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"

"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."

His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."

You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.

When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.

He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.

You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."

His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.

The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.

He frowns.

"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."

He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.

You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"

The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."

You huff, "I am her older si-"

"But for your babe."

You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.

"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."

The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."

"My princess."

"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"

He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.

The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.

The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.

Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.

"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."

Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"

"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."

The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."

You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.

Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."

You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.

Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.

You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.

"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"

His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.

"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.

You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.

Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?

As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.

Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."

You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.

"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."

You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.

"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"

"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."

His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"

You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."

He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"

"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."

Viserys turns to you.

You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."

He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."

You find no comfort in his words.

"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."

The thought nearly makes you flinch.

He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"

You begin to feel sick.

"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."

Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.

"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."

His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.

"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"

"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."

"Eadan—"

He grins and points, "little fire."

"—and Alaeric," you huff.

"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."

You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."

He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."

"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."

He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"

"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."

Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"

You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."

"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.

Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"

You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.

Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.

"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"

Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.

Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.

The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.

It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.

Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your but, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."

Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.

Your scream makes his stomach curdle.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.

Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."

The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.

You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."

The thought is gutting.

You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."

Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.

Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.

Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.

You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.

Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"

"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."

Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.

You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."

She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."

A tear fog your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?

She wordlessly agrees.

You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."

A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."

"They're perfect, are they not?"

She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."

You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maester's see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.

You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.

Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."

"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve."

You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."

"My princess, I-"

"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"

He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."

You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.

Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their vows.

Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully take it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"

"I..." he start, about to explain it is inappropriate.

"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."

"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.

All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.

You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.

Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.

Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"

You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.

"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."

The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.

He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."

A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.

"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.

The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"

Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."

"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"

Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"

"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.

The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"

"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.

Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"

"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"

"Please."

The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."

"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."

Arryk turns to Erryk.

"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.

Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.

Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.

"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.

The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.

Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.

Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"

Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."

Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"

You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"

"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.

You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"

"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.

You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"

Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.

[isadelusions]

Daisuke [Mouthwashing]

| vlogger x editor(reader) au | fem reader | fluff | pt1 > pt2

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

Pretty Duo hm?

- He’s been making videos for quite a while and hired an editor because he isn’t too experienced with editing.

- He makes a video pretty much every week, sends it to you, tells you some details he would for his video with a little, you’ll edit, sends the finished product, he loves it and post. Repeat.

- After a few weeks, the both of you started chatting with each other regularly,checking up on each other, talked about the similar hobbies you guys share, laughing at each other’s cringe roblox usernames. You guys even decided to have matching avatars.

-From chatting daily to having voice calls for random game nights to FaceTiming. You were shy at first to reveal your face but as time goes by, you eventually got comfortable with it. (Bro was gagged by your face card)

“I must be lucky to have a pretty editor like you. ;)” ,that line totally send butterflies to your stomach.

- One time he asked if you would like to be in a video and play roblox with him. At first you were quite hesitant since his number of followers were slowly rising and afraid that it would destruct his fans.

“Well if they start hating me, just let them. I rather have that then having some fake fans you know??” “Plus I’m just here to have fun so what can they do? Mhm?”

- After his reassurance, you agreed and record the video together online.

—— ✿ ——

“heyyy guysss I’m back again to play some roblox BUT this time with some company, guys act shocked act shocked,just kidding. Anyways this time I’ll be playing with my lovely editor~”, his screen showing both him and your avatar, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

There was a long pause. “Um…hi?” You said awkwardly as you don’t have much experience being recorded.

But after a while,you got used to it and the both of you decided to play some two player obbies. At first it was going smoothly, just simple jumps and walks. However, when you guys got closer to the end, the difficulty rises.

“DAISUKE PLEASE DONT MISS THE JUMP OR I MIGHT ACTUALLY BREAK. DOWN.”

“STOPP,YOUR STRESSING ME PRETTY GIRLL”

Your skin tingles every time he calls you that but it didn’t make you feel better. He indeed did miss the jump.

…a very long silence

“Alright,breathe in….and breathe out… We can do this..”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, let’s try one last time before I might actually start raging”

You guys were extremely locked in and passed the final stage miraculously.

“WE DID ITTT (y/n), YAYYY”

“EYY GOODJOBB”

You made your character walk in circles around daisuke’s character and he mirrors your actions too.

You then looked at the time to realise it took almost two hours to complete the obbies, it’s already 1am which is quite alright since we’re used to it but you suddenly remembered you had other ‘important’ plans in the morning and cut off daisuke’s next sentence.

“hmm what should we play next-”

“As much as I would love to continue this all with you but I really have to head to bed right now”

“Ouh finally sleeping quite earlier then usual, aren’t we?”

“well I do have plans for tomorrow, quite important to me heh..”

“Okayy then, have a good sle-” he then pauses, his mind recalling his previous chats with you and the puzzle pieces matched. “Wait, your going to that cat cafe you talked about right??? I do remember you sending me a post about it opening for tomorrow or more like ‘later in the morning’ hmm?”

“Yeaaa, oh wait I did told you about it.”

“Could I go with you,pleasee. It’s not too far from my area and plus you get to meet ‘this gorgeous cool guy’ for first time in your lifeee.”

You felt ??? by the sudden plan of his, “mhmmm sure I don’t mind honestly”

“wait really??” “Ofcourse”

“I’ll text you the details later before I head to bed, I gotta go get myself cleaned up. Do remember to send me the clips before heading to bed. Soo I’ll see you tomorrow then hm? ;)”

“Yupp, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Have a good sleep if it’s possible~”

“Alright, goodnight pretty boy” You immediately left the call and got up from your seat, heading to the bathroom to get a quick wash up.

The excitement for ‘tomorrow’ was rising in you but yet feeling nervous and curious. How tall would he be? Would his behaviour be completely different? The thoughts were filling up your mind.

You head to bed with your phone, texting him about the plans while your allow your body to lay on the bed,sheets covering your body, head against your soft pillow.

“How about we meet up at a metro station first? Then we could walk tgt to the cat cafe? How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds great to me;)”

Daisuke replied almost instantly and brought up about having matching outfits and of course you couldn’t turn that offer down.

“hmm let’s match in colours then?”

“Suree”

“Any colours in mind?”

“Hmm, not really”

“Me too honestly. How about I’ll choose it tmr while I pick my outfit hm?”

“Sure but don’t be too lateee”

“Says the one who rarely reads chats in the morning”

“Man shut it, as if you’ll wake up in time”

“Okay okay you win. I guess I gonna sleep now or I’ll be late right, pretty?”

“Alright, goodnight to you”

“Night to you as well”

A small smile plastered across your face as you place your phone onto the small table beside you.

It def took you almost like an hour to only fall asleep due to your own excitement.

-I can picture daisuke kicking his own legs before having his sleep lol

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

I think it will take a long while for me to post parts for this,I’m still new to writing and honestly I’m scared I won’t be able to write the next part. Anyways I hope you guys had a little joy in reading this,take care of your health!loveyouu byee~ :o

[luneemeritus]

"pilot Stolas was better!!" no, he wasn't.

"bring pilot Stolas back!!" no ❤️

You want an evil, manipulative, abusive villain with little to no redeeming qualities that is a Goetia and has cool powers? We have two of them: Stella and Andrealphus. If it's only about the 'asthetic', a character doesnt have to be evil to be cool, Stolas's demon form and powerful moments are already amazing, and although he's powerless now, I'm pretty sure he will get his status back at least for a while to make a badass scene.

What the Hellaverse doesnt lack is amazing villains. If critics were so much better and creative than Vivziepop, they wouldn't turn a complex, well written, well designed and well acted character like Stolas into a boring Valentino 2.0 just because the pilot version seemed creepier. Lmao Stella is literally what all of Stolas's haters claim to want, look how well they're handling her. Seriously I've seen people saying that Stella needs a sympathetic reason to be a fucking abuser, but when Stolas (not an abuser) has sympathetic reasons to be who he is and do what he does, it's suddenly not okay.

Stolas is the only character I've ever seen who: sacrifice his life to his lover, and is still called "selfish" and "not enough for Blitz"; is seeing being abused by his wife since EP2-Season 1, even singing about how his life with her was miserable yet he remained strong for his daughter, and people will still claim that Stella turned out to be abusive "out of nowhere"; is forced to marry someone he doesn't love, is abused by said person, spent years alone and enduring that misery, and when he finally chooses to stay with the one person that never abused him, he is an "evil cheater"; sacrifices his own safety and happiness to make his daughter safe and happy, and ALWAYS — always — take accountability when he fails her (or when she thinks he failed her) as any good parent would do, and still be called a bad father (addition: forced to have said child but loves her anyway🤡). Just say yall alergic to character development.

I lost the Tiktok now because I blocked OP, but the big argument about "how much pilot Stolas is better" is a lie basically: canon Stolas, (abuse survivor, has the best development of the show alongside with Blitz, a loving father who remained strong for his daughter), is a "loser" (also a twink in a derogatory way, which is funny like, just say the f slur, we know that's what you mean🤡 specially calling a male abuse survivor "coward" and "loser" lmao like we know), while the pilot Stolas is a "manipulative, inteligent, cold villain" uuuuh no he wasn't lol hate to tell you dude, Pilot Stolas wasnt an evil interesting genius that was sooo intimidating, nah he was just creepy and honestly as funny as the canon one. Yeah you just hate the gay owl being well written. Pilot Stolas has 2 minutes screen. Canon Stolas has two seasons of development, he is the better one, I'm pretty sure people who say this don't even remember half of the pilot.

So it's not really about Stolas's actions, or mistakes, or him being a good or a bad person (he is a good person). He could be the most perfect, excellent, flawless victim, the 'wokest' most self aware pure angel, it's still not enough. Because it's not about him, it's about a version of him that never came to be but haters love to whine about it.

[tealvenetianmask]

We need some Barbie Wire Analysis . . .

Because for a character with maybe . . . 2-3 minutes of screen time, she sure has an outsized importance in the show. This is rivaled only by Tilla, who we know even less about.

Barbie gets the major callback in the last scene of Season 2. As other bloggers have pointed out, it could have been Fizz, who's a much bigger character so far. Fizz hated Blitz for 15 years, and they were able to finally reconcile-- even though 15 years is still a long time, that would have been, arguably, a more hopeful, comforting story for Stolas to hear.

But Barb, well, she's on his mind. She always is. "I miss her every day."

Barbie's absense, I think, is made more real by the way in which the show introduces her through photos, and she's never overtly mentioned in all of Season 1.

We're told that Blitz has a twin, that they performed together in the circus (or maybe after), and through her non-mentions, that something bad happened.

Then she's in the photo that makes Blitz finally break down at the end of Ozzie's.

I like how the twins mirror each other here. Similar eyes and face shapes, circus marks on their foreheads, pointy teeth, simple joy and enthusiasm. Whatever their lives were like at that time, they experienced it together, and there were good times.

Barb is central to Blitz's loss and his capacity for love.

We finally meet Barb in Unhappy Campers, and the way she's introduced . . . well. Unfortunately a lot of us were so disappointed that Blitz wasn't going to visit Stolas that we couldn't fully process what he was doing. When he first asked about Barb, my first reaction was "who?"

But that hasn't been Blitz's experience. He's just been keeping a major part of his day to day thoughts and feelings from us.

This nurse knows what's up. He's come back again and again to see Barb, and no taser can deter him.

It's such an obvious and central part of his life- missing Barb, trying to reconnect with her, that he seems honestly unaware that he's never told Moxxie about her at all.

It might feel like we're thrown into an emotional family confrontation out of nowhere, but Blitz has gone through years, potentially, of trying to get Barb to talk to him and being shut down. The hurt in his face, how it wears on him, and how he can't bear to give up hope. Well. It's all there.

So at this point, we still don't know Barb deeply. We only know what Blitz has told us, but more importantly, how he reacts to her absence, how he refuses to give up.

It tells us a lot about his stubbornness, the fine line he walks between resilience, hope, and just a pigheaded refusal to give up.

Maybe Barb is a part of why Blitz is like this. Maybe losing her taught him that some things are so important that it's worth never giving up, even if continuing to try is painful.

Maybe there will be a reconciliation, in part or in full.

But honestly, I also won't mind if a lesson Blitz needs to learn is that sometimes you do need to give up on someone you love. For that person's freedom to reinvent themselves. For your own sanity and contentment in life.

And if Blitz does let her go (at least of the practical fight to reconnect)? He'll think of her every day still.

[tillsfan]

this new vivinos sketch got me thinking.

what if till was way more infatuated with ivan than we thought? what if the whole time, till was actually focused on the both of them, yet due to ivan’s low self worth and unreliable storytelling, we had a complete different perception of him. maybe he was more transparent about his feelings to the both of them.

it would be genuinely insane if when we finally get till’s pov of his life, we get so much more of ivan and much less of mizi than expected. like an even distribution.. main reason i’m thinking this is because of his comic, where he’s seen so much. more chill? around her

he seems a lot more different than what we’d expect based off ivan’s perception of him. this is one of the only instances where his story has been told from someone outside of ivan. it’s very interesting to me.. they’re both pretty prevalent in his comic. they both were in his head. even though it was told by io, i think it’s still worth noting.

i fully believe till acted different and distant around ivan because of his guilt after the meteor scene, as he was likely ashamed of himself. convincing ivan that he wasn’t ever in till’s mind. maybe till felt he didn’t deserve ivan after the fact? i’m sure he was convinced that ivan hated him for it as well. till was probably DWELLING over what happened. it likely weighed him down a lot. in r6, he could’ve been so broken both because of mizi and because he was also going up against one of his loves, someone who tried to help him escape, but he went back on it. in r7, we also saw the meteor scene colors in his ivan flashback. the meteor scene is so heavily associated with ivan specifically, but we’ve seen till so affected by it in multiple instances. mostly in merch. but still.

maybe a lot of his actions were based off of ivan as well, and not just mizi. he’s been shown to be flustered around ivan on multiple occasions..

this is just a “what-if” scenario ramble. i just think it’d be very interesting if it was significantly more different than expected… very very curious for till pov of things. i wonder how much different it would be. we could see how ivan really ruined things for himself, seeing him inhabit till’s mind So Much more than we would’ve ever believed. not saying this is 100% what would happen at all! just ideas.. with how much they’re gatekeeping his pov, i wouldn’t be surprised if his pov completely changed our perception of his relationship with ivan, and till’s character as a whole.

anyways till bisexuality is so real We are so back.

a few more sketches where till is shown to be flustered around ivan. they mean so much to me. ivan you are so clueless

[omgsecretsecret]

I don't want to go ! Part 2

Pairing : Lee Minho x gn!reader ; established relationship

Genre : angsty, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

Word count : about 930

Warnings : phobia of needles ; crying ; panick attack ig (idk if it's exactly one)

Author's note : I'm so sorry for taking so much time to post it but it's out now for Christmas (btw merry christmas to everybody who celebrates it and happy day to everyone doesn't <3) ; lots of love and bisous to @giddyfatherchris for helping me ; the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners

Request : « Can you do a part 2 of the don't want to go lee known fic, where lee know comforts the character while getting a shot, the character cries too, maybe puts up a fight because she doesn't want to get a shot? Lee know tries to keep distracted. » by @200billionlightyearsaway

Masterlist || Part 1

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

Honestly, you are happy to have Minho with you, his presence is always reassuring. But at the same time, it's so embarrassing. How could a grown-up like you need their boyfriend to go to the doctor? You feel so childish.

You don't notice the way he's looking at you with slight concern, but you do feel him taking your hand. You smile at him and he simply squeezes your hand. You give your name to the secretary for the appointment, then go in the waiting room. Everything seems so slow, you feel like you're waiting forever. Why are doctors always late?

When you are finally called, you don't even know if you are relieved to leave the room full of sick people or if you want to run away even more. You tense up as you enter the medical room and Minho's hold on your hand tightens.

It's like you're not completely there when the doctor asks a few questions, letting Minho answer as you try to handle the anxiety threatening to overwhelm you. You feel so stupid. Why are you so damn scared of a simple fucking needle ?

Minho has to call your name three times to finally get you to react. You blink a few times before slowly getting up, your movement almost shaky. Your body feels weak as you walk to the examination chair and you are just unable to let go of your boyfriend's hand. The sound of your own heartbeat pulsing in your ears and your already heavy breathing covers everything else around you. You can't see the look of worry on Minho's face as your eyes get glassy, but when you hear the doctor pulling out the needle, you break down.

You instinctively grip his arm as you can't hold back the tears that immediately fill your eyes, looking up at him with genuine distress. You can't do this. You don't know why you react so strongly, but you just can't keep it together. You suddenly start crying, pulling on Minho's arm and messily begging him to get you out of here. You don't care about what the doctor might think of you anymore, all you want is to go home.

"Baby, baby... It's okay. Calm down, love. Just calm down. he whispers sweetly as he cups your face and crouches down to be at your eye level, but it doesn't help.

— No it's not ! I can't just fucking calm down ! You think I do this on purpose ? You think it's easy ? I can't –"

You want to keep talking, keep telling him how you feel, how wrong he is, but you can't. A loud sob interrupts you and you just can't speak anymore. You cower down and cover your face as you cry, vainly attempting to suppress your sobs. Of course you know you should calm down, of course you know your reaction is disproportionate, but you can't control it.

Minho's heart clenches at the sight. He hates seeing you in this state, but it's not like he's going to blame you. He lets out a soft, pained sigh before carefully wrapping his arms around you. He holds you gently, with all the love of a man who only wants to comfort his partner.

You bury your face into his neck, shaky hands coming up to clutch his shirt lightly. He doesn't say a word, simply holding you close and rubbing your back. In a last surge of resistance, you weakly whisper that you want to leave, even trying to get up but it's halfhearted. You know you have to take that damn shot. Minho just keeps you there when you try to move, pressing you against his chest.

"Baby ? You're going to get the shot okay ? You can do it, baby. I won't let go of you, I'll be right there. You can cling on me all you want. But we have to do it, okay ?" he whispers softly without pulling away.

You don't reply, don't nod, but your lack of protests serves as a silent agreement. Minho kisses your forehead lightly in encouragement before looking at the doctor and nodding for her to go ahead. He talks you through it, keeps you close and lets you squeeze him, not even reacting when you dig your nails into his shoulder.

The doctor puts down the empty needle, patiently waiting for you both to be done. Minho tries to be a bit quick as to not make her wait too much, but still takes his time to make sure that you're fine.

"Are you okay kitten ?" he asks softly, watching as you nod weakly.

He presses a small, tender kiss to your lips before turning to the doctor, keeping your hand in his. You hear him apologize to the doctor, but she's quick to reassure him. Kids are way worse, and we can't control our phobias. Minho gives her a soft smile before paying, grateful for her understanding.

He looks at you again and his gaze softens with love when his eyes meet yours. You look drained, exhausted even, and honestly you are. He helps you get up, bows towards the doctor and leads you out. He holds your hand all the way to the car, only letting go when you are settled in your seat so he can go to his own.

"You're okay. he says softly.

— I love you. you reply and he chuckles at the suddenness of the declaration, a mix of amusement and fondness filling his heart.

— Me too, kitten. So much." He whispers before kissing you gently.

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[tiredfox64]

Waiter waiter!!

More giant Bi-han pls !!

(Headcanons,,, or smrhn,,, other characters are cool too !!)

Big...That's It

Yip notes: kitchen burning all around me with my lighter in my hand and the food on fire ...Okay...headcanons are good...custom job...g/t stuff again okay okay

Pairings: Bi-Han x Gn reader, Raiden x Gn reader

Warnings: My headcanons gasp opinions oh gosh

Bi-Han

I said it once and I'll say it again. It's giving Marc Antony and Pussyfoot. Just this big, aggressive guy who has to deal with this little menace that causes so much trouble but he loves them.

That man HATES to have you out of his sight. You need to be in front of him or in his peripheral vision.

If you can't stay in front of Bi-Han you're getting the towel or the leash. He will slam you down into a hand towel and wrap you up like a newborn Russian baby. That small leash that's made for bearded dragons that he bought one day? That's going on you too.

All silliness aside, Bi-Han actually likes you this way. A tiny thing that fits in the palm of his hand.

He likes that you're pathetic and you're forced to depend on him for certain things like getting you food or fighting off ants that try to fight you.

He purposely gives you big slices of food because you look cute shoving food in your cheeks. You look so silly eating baby corn, don't worry it's in a good way. He does scold you if you fill your mouth up too much and taps your back lightly to make you spit it out. Okay...maybe not so light.

You are his stress toy. You will be in a death grip while Bi-Han's thumb rubs against your head. You're an analog stick.

He doesn't trust you to sit on his head. You're gonna pull his hair and he knows it. You can stay on his shoulder.

Bi-Han likes to keep you in his room. You have your own little setup (probably in a huge cage with cloths over it) like your own room. He won't provide you furniture so you'll have to ask someone else cough cough Tomas cough choke to get you doll furniture.

He'd probably keep your room on a bedside table. Anything near his bed will do. He does that so he can have his hand near you. Don't worry he doesn't twitch or attack in his sleep so you won't wake up accidentally because he slapped the table.

This stays between you and me BUT he keeps his hand near you to make sure you're safe. If you're in trouble or struggle to fall asleep, you can tap on his hand and he'll be there to help. He'll bitch about it, sorry. But Bi-Han sure can provide you the best back massage with his two fingers so you can sleep peacefully.

Heaven help the poor son of a bitch who accidentally (or purposely) kicks you. You'll be down, a bit sore maybe, and then Bi-Han will come around and--oh look at that it's snowing blood.

Raiden

Ah yes, such a gentleman who unfortunately shocks you a lot.

Raiden needs to be careful with you after he uses his amulet. If you were at a normal human size you wouldn't be shocked by him once he was done with the amulet. But because you're a little bitty you get quite the shock when he touches you.

Oooo, is someone cooking pollo asado? Oh wait, that's just you.

He is totally fine with keeping you on his head and under his hat. It's safe and comfortable. You stay cool while the light seeps in. You could pass out up there while using his head of hair as your bed.

I genuinely believe this man would have doll hairbrushes for you. It's either Barbie hairbrushes or Ever After High hairbrushes. They were definitely borrowed from Johnny.

I feel like Raiden can cook simple meals and he will cook you miniature versions of those meals. Have a mini omelet.

Gently hold the reader in your hands, Raiden, gently hold them. This man has his hands cupped to hold you.

He's not possessive, he is just scared to have others hold you. Especially Kung Lao and Johnny because of how rough they can be.

You know those bunny owners who have a room dedicated to their bunny? Yeah, that's him but with you. You got a whole penthouse on one side of his room. Boujee ass dollhouse accessories and some great rat hammocks.

He likes to have you near when he meditates. He believes it can suppress your devious rat tendencies. If not, then at least Raiden can keep an ear open for you.

No touching the amulet! He reminds you every week. It's either curiosity or pure stupidity that drives you to go near it with your tiny hands.

Some nights...most nights, he lets you sleep on a pillow next to him. He knows not to roll onto you even in his sleep. Raiden likes to have his little lover close to him. You'll get a big goodnight kiss. Dawh :3

Yap notes: Yes, yes, I know I should be celebrating with family but this Christmas Eve hasn't been spectacular. So I spent some of my alone time doing this. Plus, that g/t curse was getting me again. A week of throat problems, a week of nose problems, a week of car and water problems, random bursts of anxiety and blood pressure spiking. Damn Fishii I said I would get to it! I might have a late Christmas gift for you (but with your luck my family might call me names again and I'll end up working on the whole thing tomorrow). To anyone else who might want to ignore family for a bit by reading, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Now if this damn post just works that would be great.

[revelboo]

Im not sure if these are updated based on request or based on your whimsy, but if it *is* request based, may I please beg for Ironhide? I love the old man >.<

If not, feel free to ignore and I will continue to patiently wait :) 👍

Love u so much for this blog; it gets me through the work day.

Honestly, it’s mostly based on people reminding me in the asks that I’ve neglected a character or story, because I’m not motivated enough to make a posting schedule I know I won’t stick to and those asks are sitting at over 300 at this point 😂 no matter how fast I go through them

Hold Me Down Pt 4

Ironhide x Reader

• “Rules,” he growls, servos flexing as you scowl up at him from where he’d unceremoniously dumped you on his cluttered desk. “You’re going to behave. Primus help you if I catch your sticky little fingers on anything that’s not yours.” And you’re looking around, ignoring him. Smacking a hand on the desk to make you jump and glare, he grins. “Act like a sparkling and I’ll treat you like one, darling.”

• Eyes narrowing at the big, red jerk, you curl your lip at him. He’d made it abundantly clear that you’re not getting away. That you’re stuck with each other and that he hates it. Well, that’s fine. The hate is pretty much mutual. He’d tried to give you a heart attack after all. And, okay, maybe you’d been trying to steal him at the time, but how were you supposed to know he wasn’t a real van? If anything, this is his fault. And what is a sparkling? Sounds like an insult. One thing you have figured out? He can’t hurt you or you’re pretty sure he’d have chucked you out while driving and that makes you brave to cover up the fear. “Look, demon van,” you say ignoring his pointed ‘it’s Ironhide.’ “You kidnapped me, so I have every right to make you miserable. And I’m going to enjoy it.”

• You’re grinning at him, no longer putting him in mind of a sparkling. No, they’re at least innocent. You’re a vicious little scraplet, all teeth and evil. “Try me.” Because he’s not putting up with any sass or attitude and unfortunately, you seem to be nothing but. He almost liked you better screaming. Bending slightly to get on your level, he reaches out and taps you on the head with a servo. Grimacing as you slap at him, swearing. Maybe gentler next time, he decides as you rub your head to send your hair into disarray. “I’d behave a little better if I was your size.”

• “Well, I’d punt you across the room if I was your size,” you mutter, rubbing your head. He’d thumped you hard enough to hurt. “Jerk. Demon van. Asshole.” Those big servos flex into a fist and you shut up. Know he can’t hit you, but the threat? Cringing and hating yourself for it, you glare up at him, heart racing.

• That shut you up, but it twists unpleasantly through him, too. That fear in your eyes so raw. It’s the look of someone expecting a blow because it’s familiar, cringing but still defiant. Resigned. “Look,” he grumbles, sitting down and suddenly exhausted. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you can ease up on the back talk.” Lips pressing into a thin line, you just shrug. Right. Brat. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not cut out for taking care of sparklings.” And far too old for it besides.

• That word again. You’re beginning to suspect what it means and it’s not flattering. “You understand that I’m an adult, right?” When he just stares, you swallow a laugh. “I’m not a kid, pal. I’ve been on my own for years and I don’t need taking care of.” Or want it. Relying on other people, trusting them to look out for you, to have your back can only come back to bite you. The only one you can count on is you. You’ve learned that the hard way. Anything else just gets you hurt and you’re so sick of pain.

Previous

You hold me down

You're the echoes of my everything,

You're the emptiness the whole world sings at night.

You're the laziness of afternoon,

[kissedloveletters]

IN A WINTER WONDERLAND . ۫ ꣑ৎ . christmas activities w’ them

(˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) warnings. fluff、fell-hard boys、gn!reader、established relationship、mild mention of burial [dazai]、minor ooc maybe .. [ jouno + atsushi]、vulnerability(?) ໒ ᩧ꒱ characters. akutagawa ryunosuke、dazai osamu、atsushi nakajima、ranpo edogawa、jouno saigiku、tetcho suehiro ♥ made with lots of love! / wc 3.1k

AKUTAGAWA RYUNOSUKE + MOVIE MARATHON

you knew akutagawa’s density of his general health and specifically his lungs is somewhat weak, he has a sensitive health so it’s bad for him to go outside when it was such cold weather and air. he still insists he has a strong health, he doesn’t want you to view him as weak or incapable.

putting that into thought you recommended a movie, though he actually enjoyed the thought. he urge you pick the movie and he can make the snacks, cue being he asks you what food or snacks you want and he gets or makes it.

you get a little conflicted about which movie you would choose, akutagawa notices this and suggests a random Christmas movie in which you hastily agree to choose and start playing it.

he doesn’t even know what the movie even is, he just overheard his coworkers talking about it T^T..

you both started watching the movie with your arms intertwined and a blanket on the both of you as you lean onto akutagawa’s shoulders, the snacks laid out on the coffee table in front.

you tilt your head up slightly to see akutagawa watching the movie with a blank expression, you know that stupidly cute doe-eye face he makes in bsd wan? he’s making that one.

you tried to fight the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying the movie or not, you let the question slip unfortunately and you’re replied by a strangely flustered akutagawa protesting he enjoys it, picking one popcorn and eats it

“are you…enjoying the movie ryu?” “I AM.”

he was caught off guard when you giggled and squeezed his arm once more and leaned back on his shoulder, the movie catching your attention again. he bites back a sigh and rests his head on yours.

when the movie is over—and his snarky comments—the credits starts rolling out in the screen; signaling you to get up, akutagawa is strangely quick to gently pull your arm back with a silent wait. you look surprised, mouth and eyes go slightly agape, he is also himself but doesn’t show it physically.

the small gesture was unusual for akutagawa. you’d think he isn’t fond of physical touch, maybe from others, but you’re not them. the thought is probably the reason why he likes your cozy touch so much, giving him the relaxation he never quite had since forever.

the words i love you flew out of his lips before he can stop it, he hates how his voice almost cracked. there was slight vulnerability in his voice if it was silent enough. his eyes that were once firm soften only-so-slightly, he bite the back-inside of his cheek on habit. the way your smile and eyes softening gets him every time.

“I love you too, ryunosuke”

DAZAI OSAMU + PLAYING IN THE SNOW

you firstly wanted to spend more time with you boyfriend, it’s the winter time so what’s more better than messing around with him in the snow?

apparently it seemed like dazai enjoyed it at first, he even went out of his way to find a way to annoy kunikida. which is to put—stuff—snow in kunikida’s locker (probably threw one or two snowballs at him when he’s caught), gets behind you when kunikida chases him out of the agency because he’s literally covered in snow ( he did so many snow angels, even one on the road? ) and made little puddles.

dug in the snow and made a literal burial, makes it dramatic and tells you he has a surprise and shows you it with a cheeky smile on his face, also does that thing when you revealing something with your arms and waving your hands. while you’re there looking like you’re sulking at your boyfriend he’s rambling on how great his creation is…

“feast your eyes belladonna!—” then there’s white noise for you after that…

you two did a snowball fight and he may or may not literally climbed on the tree like a animal. he’s basically holding the thick tree branch for his life, he looks so stupid.. whines in a dramatic tone how you’re torturing him..?

after some time, unfortunately, he’s now being more dramatic about being cold and faking his chattering teeth, lot of “my belladonna hates me. she wants me to die in the cold.” emphasizing the hate and die in the sentence while his hands are on both sides of his upper-arm as like he’s trying to warm himself with a pout on his face and a slightly red nose and cheeks.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at him, how couldn’t you when he looks so cute? (you tried to press on both of his cheeks when your hand was somewhat covered by snow and then he swats your hand away like it was hot iron) he looks at you with fake offense and starts whining about how you’re mocking him.

catering his needs, you both went inside. it was almost immediately when he tries to shake off the snow and make a brrr sound accompanying it, earning a major side-eye from you

(un)fortunately you found yourself later sandwiched between a clingyzai and the soft mattress, the cuddling would’ve been a warm moment if his weight wasn’t crushing on you. squeezing you more if you try to get up, you feel as if you’re dying, literally.

your hand found his soft, but moist, hair and started to caress his head. he leans in your hand more and visibly gotten more relaxed (and loosely let his vice grip on you)

you found sleep somehow and you both rested, when you woke up he’s snoring in your ear and drooling on you? you also had to wake him up because he was literally suffocating you.

ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA + BUILDING A SNOWMAN

atsushi had wanted to play in the snow since his childhood, he knew how childish it was, it’s because the orphanage didn’t allow for children to play out in the cold while it or after it snowed. the rule prevented the children to get sick but also leaving them yearning to do something simple like playing in the snow.

so, it was no surprise atsushi still wanted to do the activity, it’s even better when you’re with him. you both could see your own breaths, atsushi offers you his coat since he can use his ability to prevent him from freezing.

the two of you started rolling the snow and it slowly starts to pile on each other, it takes awhile but you swore it was longer than it felt.

atsushi (after awhile tried to do something to maybe impress you idfk ) tried to, like, form it with his tiger hands like it was sand?? T-T it was contrary to what he thought it would be like. it came out ok, but really bulky with lot of bumps and, okay it was not ok it was misshaped; it looked like a oval

kinda got embarrassed from that with you consoling him “it looks good babe, don’t worry!” and that got him feeling better but somehow more embarrassed? ( possibly from the pet name… )

the body was complete (and looked like a disaster) and it was just the head, atsushi was in charge with trying to find rocks and two sticks for the arm, face and buttons. you were making the head which looked like a gigantic snowball.

and then, wallah, the snowman is done! atsushi wanted to put his scarf and hat on it, being the good partner you were like “aren’t you gonna get cold?” and he was puzzled for a millisecond “yeah, you’re right..” you swore that was the most accidental dramatic sigh he let out

news-flash he still did and he got a cold the next day

RANPO EDOGAWA + BAKING COOKIES

ranpo was really just hungry and wanted an excuse to spend time with you, there’s many options to choose from when he needs both of these needs to be taken care of… then the very awesome idea crashed down at him, he was going to make christmas-y cookies with you!

ranpo really sometimes judges how things taste based the way they look, if a cookie is extraordinarily decorated he’ll assume it’ll taste as good as it looks, but simple goods as glazed donuts he enjoys so it doesn’t imply this for all sorts of baked goods, just perfectly in the middle…

he brought up the idea towards to you, and who knew, you of course would liked to! key word, liked.

most of the time you were the one baking it and he was… rambling about all of the cases he’s solved, poe’s recent mystery novel, the people that he called out as the perpetrator declining it idiotically and whatever comes to his mind.

while he was doing that, he ate most of the snacks he gotten yesterday and this morning, sometimes holds the chip bag in front of you as an indication for you to take one if you’d like, same with his half-eaten and wet lollipops…? which met him with a scrunch of your nose as an ew, he casually shrugs and puts it back in his mouth.

oh also eats the cookie batter when you’re away, when you caught him he declares it as taste testing as he takes another scoop of it with his finger and licks it ..

he eventually got bored of the routine and made (badly attempted) hot chocolate, it was a bit bitter than you expected but you’re glad it’s not overly sweet that your teeth would fall off… he putted those sweeteners in his cup

it was awhile when you two were chatting while the cookies were in the oven, the conversation was ranpo mostly doing he talking… per usual maybe? then gets the very bright idea to play in the snow… that may or may not be the best choice.

seconds later after your agreement he literally dashed to get his jacket, snow boots, mittens and hat (also yours dw). impatiently waits by the door tapping his feet while you’re putting on your jacket… “any day now” smh

he goes dashing out with your hand in his in the snow, literally trips and brings you down with him… makes so many snow angels with you it’s hardly countable, comes screaming to you later showing you his snowman, unfortunately … “looks like frosty the snowman’s child if it had a birth defect”

ranpo has the urge to check the cookie again, and again, and again until it was finally done. gets too distracted by the beep of the oven he forgot to put those oven gloves on and gets it anyways without it, but you literally slapped his hand away and handed them to him T_T.

defiantly eats the majority of them when your both done decorating, he also made one that he attempted to look like you and takes a fat bite out of it..?

theres many opportunities that ranpo could do this honestly, he just never found that much of the motivation or point if he got the store-bought ones, but he thinks the way you made it, even if the batter and all came from a recipe, he thinks yours is better than any pastries he tasted

JOUNO SAIGIKU + GINGERBREAD HOUSE

jouno’s eyes twitch in annoyance and grumbles when he got frosty on the wrong place again, he hates this. why would you choose out of any oh-so-festive activities out there in the world? he continues to let out a soft dramatic sigh every so often.

you wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend on christmas, he hates the snow (because it messes up his senses and his hair or something… and you make him do all the snow shoveling) so you recommend such a fun activity to do even though you had the possibility he would hate it, what a good partner you are!

the ugly sweater you basically asked ( forced ) to wear itches at his skin, he keeps shuffling on the wooden seat he’s sat at, uncomfortable. from the radius he’s at from the fireplace that’s no farther away than seven feet, he’s practically sweating from his sensitive senses. it’s taking his all to not ripe himself out of that hand-made sweater you made specifically for him…

you notice this, and he knows that. he pretends to imply he hate this, in result you feel a little guilty for making him do this, even if you ask him about it he’ll dismiss it anyways for whatever reasons…

“sai… you look sweaty an’ annoyed, wanna stop?” “no, it’s alright” “oh—okay!”

having such-a soft spot for someone like he has with you is something he never experienced, his tone changes when taking to you compared to his companions, his smile ever so widening and being softer if you look close enough when he hears your familiar heartbeat and smell.

even if it takes all of the strength in his body to protest what you ask of him, he couldn’t bring himself to.

unfortunately, he got frosting over his sweater… shit, guilt and annoyance tugging at his soul, he furrows his eyebrow, he ignores the feelings and tries to wipe it off with a nearby napkin. grimaces slightly when he hears your snort, looking back up at you like a mad kitten, only fueling you more to laugh.

he ends up taking off the sweater, leaving him in the plain white t-shirt, matching the frosting that he was outlining the house with.

there was no doubt that his house looked like a disaster, the white frosting sprawled everywhere on the architectural creeks. the way the house look so… silly made you giggle in your seat as you reach out to get another house set up and put it in front of him.

you sat closer to jouno, shoulders brushing each-other. you leaned in closer, basically sitting apart of his seat, your hands ghosting over his as you rest your head on his shoulder blade. instructing him silently for him to follow your movements.

you didn’t notice the way he tensed up when you brush your fingers against his and whisper in his left ear “just follow my lead, m’kay?” the mhm and nod of his head was slow and untimed.

there weren’t many, actually, no times where jouno was nervous, this was an expection. his heart quickens the way you’re so close to him, he forgot about this stupid gingerbread house making. all he’s focused on is you, only you. not the way you tried to push the plastic bag for the white frosting, only the way you intertwined your hands with his while doing it.

it feels shorter than it actually was, unfortunate for jouno. he grimaces silently when you let go of his hand, returning them back to your lap as you sat up, looking over slightly at the almost-decent gingerbread house, he made—no, you both made together

he lets out a snarky remark and sighs, leaning on the table with the backside of his hand. “are we finally done with this” he says, turning his head to you. you huffed, the yes you let out indicates him something, he gladly lets out a relieved-dramatic sigh, again.

“thank god, thought we’d be doing this forever” empathizing the thank god. he hastily gets up from his seat, tugging the hand of yours on his left, leading you to your shared room. “maybe we could if you would like?” “fuck no”

TETCHO SUEHIRO + MAKING S’MORES

tetcho was the one who actually asked you if you both could make s’mores. fukuchi left the group take a well-deserved day off after their patrol, being delighted by this, tetchou went to you immediately. he forgot to change out of his military uniform when visiting your apartment, he ended up wearing the clothes he left at your apartment a few times when coming over, or kept it on… he doesn’t mind, really.

due to his work, he’s determined to keep the city peaceful and safe, so on days when he gets the day off he doesn’t really know what to do and just patrols around the city some more… same goes with expenses, ends up buying useless trinkets? buys oddly perfect wrapped gifts for his coworkers with the random-est things inside.

once bought jouno those cheesy best-friends necklaces that haves magnets inside and stick on the side. in the corner of the room there’s teruko who was trying to stifle her laughs with an awkward tachihara on her side, an confused fukichi because he doesn’t know what he walked into, and an irritated jouno in front of him slapping his hand so the necklace with the words best engraved on it would fall.

“jouno, i got us best friend bracelets. they magnetize together.” … “we are not best friends, idiot, I hate you” “but we work together a lot?”—“against my will! and you’re so useless in missions, you’re no use until we’re at the enemy, ugh!” … “PFFF-tetcho is such an idiot, tachihara!” “teruko…” “jouno you could use a few friends” … “captain!?”

there wasn’t really a chance where tetcho would spend with someone, of course he didn’t mind this, he didn’t consider himself a lonely person but there’s times.

(anyways back to s’mores)

it was at a popular and crowded campsite, it already had that s’more-y setup that only needed to be lighted. you both sat at the same wooden bench, getting the (sanitized) wooden sticks out and putting the marshmallows on the tip then stabbing it in.

he didn’t knew how it worked; burnt it once, twice, then five times. he got a little frustrated but then perfected it after you helped him time it correctly.

since you didn’t specify when you asked for chocolate, he got the white Hershey ones, not ideal but it would work… until you thought wrong, he sprinkles salt on his s’more and eats it with his usual blank face.

made another (slightly failed attempted) s’more but gives it to you, encouraging you lightly to try it. he didn’t pressure you though, he knows his taste wasn’t suited for most majority of people (may or may not be from the hard way..)

you loved him too much to decline it… expecting the worse, it wasn’t that bad as you thought, or your taste buds are messed up as his. nevertheless his little smile grew a little more wider when you did, if you look close enough.

you tried to bribe him to try it without the salt, with no offense possible, he surprisingly took the chance, taking the s’more you had without a moment of hesitation with a sure, takes a bite out of it without a moment later. his eyes widen like he didn’t expect it to be delicious.. or decent?

“it’s tasty” “…thought it was gonna be poisonous?” your joke earning an airy-laugh and smile from tetcho as he nods his head, playing along.

© 2024 KISSEDLOVELETTERS. do not copy or modify any of my layouts and writing. do not translate or repost onto any other sites.

[livwritesfics]

Just What I Needed

A/n: Had this idea while I was walking to school today. I was listening to "Just What I Needed" by The Cars and it reminded me of Law kinda. Anyways hope you like it(uωu 人)

Update: hellooooo, this is future me here on Christmas eve looking through my tumblr drafts, editing/finishing them and uploading them because character ai timed me out for 24 hours *eyerolls* oh WELL here you go and MERRY CHRISTMAS! JESUS IS THE REASON FOR THE SEASON! /pos /gen /lh /srs

Law hadn't planned most of his life. He didn't plan the fall of his home country, Flevance, he didn't plan his parents and sister dying, he definitely didn't plan on living past thirteen! Even Cora-san dying wasn't part of his plan.

Y/n wasn't an exception. When Law met Y/n he couldn't stop denying his feelings towards her. He didn't like her, he definitely did not blush when she laughed or giggled, and he certainly didn't go out of his way to do nice things for her. No way hosay did he do that.

I don't mind you comin' here, and wastin' all my time.

It was just so... addicting though.

To be in love. And he knew he was smitten with her when she cleaned his wounds and made him coffee... made sure he went to sleep.

'Cause when you're standin' oh so near, I kinda lose my mind.

Law didn't plan for her to love him back. Especially not the same way. However, she did. Y/n loved him so much. Law felt like the luckiest man alive.

Now of course he wouldn't show it! God no! Law would always act like he was bothered. Whenever she would knock on his captain's quarters door and interrupt his studying just to hang out. He never minded that she was spending time with him instead of letting him study.

It's not the perfume that you wear, it's not the ribbons in your hair.

It was frustrating when he found himself unable to say no when she asked him to hang out or to do her hair or if he wanted to bake cookies with her.

How could he say no? He hated himself for it.

However, he kind of got used to it. How? He didn't know. Law didn't even try to understand. For once in his life after Cora-san... he went with the flow... he let himself love and be loved.

I guess you're just what I needed.

A/n: I didn't know how to end this. It's just a little drabble I guess we can say. Merry Christmas again!

[hhughes]

❝ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 ❜❜

𝓐bout ; some canon things in the “JWBCTY” universe. these headcanons touch on little characteristics about luke’s!bsf!reader , canon things about her relationships with people you’ll often see featured in blurbs or just canon events that happen within this AU.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ; luke’s!bsf!reader x quinn hughes 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 ; headcanons. sfw. like one use of y/n , beware lol. 𝔁𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓲 ; these are little things I envision about luke’s!bsf!reader and the universe this is set in while I’m writing. she’s very much set up to be an OC but all of my writing will be done in reader!insert format and therefore she’s not completely an original character and can be read as reader insert. as I said before this au is set up differently than my previous ones, and you as the reader are “playing” the character. these little things are not completely set in stone and just like you are imagining that you’re luke’s best friend while reading, you can imagine that any of the following things are true and canon in this little universe. that being said, it's very much a take what you want and leave what you don’t type of situation because many of these details won’t be heavily present in the writing, unless you as the reader request and ask for it to be. this is meant to give you some freedom in how you want things to go down , but still leaves room for requesting specific things if you want to. if you have any questions about the formatting of this au or any thoughts at all, don’t hesitate to drop by the inbox. this is a growing list so be sure to add to it if you’d like by sending stuff in <33

꒰੭ Y/N L/N (reader / you) ᭪

also known as . . . quinn’s angel, sweet girl and sweetheart. luke’s very best friend in the whole wide world (don’t tell duker). jack’s little sister (that he never asked for but has always wanted). trevor’s partner in crime. (feel free to use any of the nicknames mentioned when requesting so you don’t have to say [luke’s!bsf!reader] each time , unless you prefer that <3)

is the same age as luke. there’s a bit of an age gap between you and quinn.

majoring in chemical engineering at the university of michigan. graduating june ‘25.

has a sweet tooth. the guys all carry around a stock of candy and sweet treats when they know they’re gonna be in your presence because they know you love to snack on them.

very bubbly and happy. you love to see the best in people and try to find the positive in every situation.

you like reading. something you and your hughes boys have in common , although your taste in books might be a little different. >_<

as a result of your sweet tooth , you’re an avid baker. you love baking and the guys both love and hate it because they can never say no to one of your baked goods.

you don’t have a big family so you always enjoy being included in hughes family events

you’re a bit introverted and a bit extroverted and often switch between the two depending on how you feel on the day.

you’re very stubborn and like to do things by yourself and in the way you wanna do them. you’re not someone that likes to accept help from others, but you are someone who loves helping others. ( this frustrates quinn to no end )

little quirks/habits include . . . cracking your knuckles when nervous (something you picked up from luke), blowing your hair out of your face, biting your lip when you’re deep in thought.

you’re giggly/clingy/overly affectionate when drunk. constantly telling everyone how much you adore them and how much they mean to you.

꒰੭ you and luke ᭪

you and luke are the definition of platonic soulmates. from the moment you met as kids, throughout your awkward tween years and angsty teen phases, to going to umich together, you have seen each other at the lowest of lows and highest of highs and still decided to stick it out. no one knows you better than him and vice versa.

luke is very protective over you. even his own brothers have gotten a punch or two when they’ve said something to you that luke didn’t like. he also kind of inserts himself in your love life but it’s more a ‘you’re my best friend and I want what’s best for you’ rather than ‘i’m secretly in love with you’

he’s very oblivious to the feelings you have for quinn, and even more oblivious to the way his older brother has eyes for you.

both of you are very good listeners and you often have movie nights where you just rant to each other about whatever is happening in your lives. those movie nights turn into long face times when luke goes to the nhl.

because luke knows you so well , it becomes harder and harder to keep your feelings for his oldest brother a secret, especially when you and quinn start sneaking around behind his back :\

꒰੭ you and jack ᭪

you and jack have a very open and honest friendship. it’s very no-filter and both of you have no issue giving it to the other one straight.

unlike your and luke’s friendship where you’ll rant about your issues and you and luke will discuss and come up with solutions together , you and jack just call each other out on your bullshit, and tell each other to get it together.

jack also sees right through you and quinn and has no problem teasing both of you about it. he’ll constantly make comments that has you burning your face in a pillow out of embarrassment, quinn giving him death glares and luke just crinkling his nose in confusion.

jack is more your big brother than he is a friend. and he has no problem giving you the tough brother love as we’ve established. but he really does adore you like his little sister and he always has your back whenever you need it.

you and jack are kind of a handful together. you’re similar in a lot of ways and that means you have a lot of fun together. you’re the kind of duo who will playfully sabotage one another just bc you’re both extremely competitive.

while jack doesn’t have the same over protective streak that luke has, he does keep an eye on things when it comes to you. while luke is ‘don’t do this, it’s a bad idea and it’s gonna blow up in your face’ type of protective, jack is the ‘do what you’re gonna do, i’ll be there if something goes wrong’ although he’s not gonna be happy about it.

jack always introduces you as his little sister, never offering an explanation when people look at him in confusion because to him, that’s simply just what you are.

꒰੭ you and trevor ᭪

you and trevor really are partners in crime and you get up to the silliest things together. could be spontaneous water balloon fights at the lake house or him telling the people at the movie theatre that you’re pregnant cause he wants to sneak snacks in, you’re just always in on a joke together. trevor knows no matter what insane plan he’s cooking, he can convince you to join him, and he loves that about you.

you and trevor do this thing ; secret for a secret. he gives you a secret and you give him one and you’re both not allowed to bring it up again unless the other person wants to talk about it. he was the first one you told about your crush on quinn.

you and trevor constantly play wingman and woman for each other whenever you guys go out to bars.

much like jack, trevor doesn’t have much of a filter, and he’s not afraid to tell you when you’re being ridiculous about something

both of you are the life of the party and wherever you do, everyone else knows it’s gonna be a good time. (you, trevor and jack together? who needs anyone else)

trevor is so good at seemingly not caring what other people think and he definitely passes that on to friends closest to him. (you/jack) he builds your confidences soo much.

you’re one of few people trevor knows he can 100% be himself; and you won’t judge him for it.

the best therapy with trevor isn’t talking—it’s just being with him. his presence is just infectious. whether it’s playing video games, watching movies for hours, or simply throwing paper airplanes around the living room, trevor has this way of distracting you from your worries without even trying. he’s the kind of friend who just gets it and lets you be

trevor is also a shameless flirt and can’t help but harmlessly flirt with you every now and then. hey! you can’t blame him, you’re funny, smart, freaking gorgeous, if the guy thought for one second you were actually interested, and he was the kinda guy who could commit, he’d go for it ^_^

꒰੭ you and quinn ᭪

even before the two of you got together a lot of your interactions were filled with small little touches. a hand on the waist as he moves past you, a hand on your thigh as he leans over you on the boat to do something. small touches that would leave a thousand butterflies in your stomach; and quinn’s palms clammy

you’ve always had a bit of a childhood crush on quinn, and that crush only grew as he moved away and you went to michigan a few years later. your childhood crush transforming into more serious feelings with every summer he comes home

whenever quinn feels jealous/upset about seeing you with other guys , he always chalks it up to feeling overprotective because you’re luke’s bestfriend but deep down he knows it’s more than that.

and everyone knows that you’re close to the hughes family but whenever someone asks quinn what you are to him he can’t really seem to find the words. it’s always some version of “she’s special to my family” or “my little brothers best friend”. either way it’s never “she’s this to me” and that’s lead you to believe that you really are nothing more than his little brother’s best friend to quinn even if that’s not really how he feels about you

after the two of you get together, everyone sees that you’re perfect for one another and can’t imagine either of you with anyone else

both of you are so supportive of each other. you never miss the opportunity to celebrate each other no matter how small the success. whether it’s you finishing a big project at work, or quinn scoring a goal, you just love seeing each other succeed.

you guys are so the “I can do it” and “I know you can, but I want to couple”

while you and quinn might not seem as close as the other guys, you guys did still grow up together and you have your own little friendship and rituals. you and quinn will send each other ten photos at the end of every week to catch each other up on what you did that week. and sometimes neither of you respond or text about anything else. it’ll just be those ten pictures, but neither of you have ever skipped a week since it started.

quinn is just as protective of you as luke and jack, if not more so. (definitely more so)

everyone always teases quinn about you. telling him how you have a crush on him. and you’re his little soft spot, but he always just brushes it off, even if he knows there’s some truth to it.

whenever quinn is having a rough week, he’ll call you just to hear your voice. and he’ll automatically feel better. and whenever you do the same, he always has flowers and desert delivered afterwards.

note: just a little reminder again that you take what you want from this, and leave what you don’t. it’s not gonna play a huge role in the au and you can read all writing pieces as independent little stand alone pieces. this is just to add enrichment to the plot, or characters and dynamics if you wish to <33

[helluverse-rewrites]

Random tidbits/headcanons

I mostly just made this because I think there's some things I forgot to put in the other posts so here you go Ig

Starting off with a big one, Millie proposed to Moxxie using sign language

Millie often translates for Moxxie when he's talking to others

Moxxie won't admit this, but it really means a lot to him when someone learns sign language for him. He grew in a place that told him that no one would learn such a thing just for a worthless, waste of space like him. So it contradicts what his father said to him when someone at least puts in the effort and tries

Not only is Sallie May trans, Millie now also has a trans brother

Verosika would probably listen to boyfriend asmr for shits and giggles

Asmodeus hates alpha male podcasters

In my rewrite, Moxxie is more apathetic than in canon, so the conflict in Murder Family is different. That's all I'm gonna say

Stella is the living embodiment of "I'm not just a regular mom, I'm a ✨cool mom✨"

Fizz has a shit tone of medical trauma

Octavia has crippling abandonment issues

^ this is because Stolas would constantly tell her as a kid when she would be crying "Cut this nonsense out or else I'm leaving you. For good." Stolas would also say he'd take Stella with her. So basically she thought that if she cried as a child, her parents would leave her

^ this is why she's so quiet and pretends she doesn't care about anything. She learned that everyone will leave her if she shows any emotion

Yeah she doesn't like to cry in front of people anymore (Stella is completely unaware of this btw)

She just bottles everything up in general

Stella will just accept anytime Stolas or Andrealphus yells or threatens her, but she'll attack you if you mention her daughter

After some character development, Fizz would be good friends with Moxxie I feel

^ They would play a game where they would see how much random shit they could say in sign language before people start to catch on how much they're bullshitting. They would be saying the word 'watermelon' over and over again. Everyone is confused while Millie and Asmodeus are laughing their asses off

If M&M were to have kids, they would definitely go for adoption (COUGHSINSMASCOUGH) also because Moxxie is trans so they wouldn't be able to have children biologically

^ also they're broke so they need more money before they even consider that

Millie often worries about Moxxie when she's not there to translate his sign language. It's not that she doesn't think he can handle himself, Moxxie has been surviving on his own for a long time before he met Millie. It's just that he has a tendency to force himself to talk when no one can understand what he's saying, and Millie knows it hurts and exhausts him

Millie's family adores Moxxie. I hate the trope of dad disapproves of daughter's boyfriend. It's just pretty annoying and oftentimes the boyfriend is the sweetest guy ever

Her family is the most accepting family in the Wrath Ring and upon first meeting them, Moxxie was certain they hated him

That was literally the opposite though, they even helped Millie set up the proposal. They just wanted Moxxie to be their in-law so bad

Striker is kind of an older brother figure to Millie, he used to have playdates with her when they were little

Stolas is the most powerful Goetia, which is something he brags about constantly

Asmodeus is a huge fucking nerd and loves reading

Moxxie and Blitzø constantly steals Millie's fidget toys for fun

Dw Millie thinks it's funny

That's all I can think about for now! If I think of anymore I'll do a part two

[eyebulb]

The one thing I hate about tiktok is how you have to limit yourself in text cus there are some insane takes on there...

Regarding Stolas and Stella......... I would have so much more sympathy for people who like Stella if they didn't try to make Stolas the bad guy.

Cus like... YES they ARE both victims of a fucked up system.. But they are NOT equally bad people fuck off with that.

The difference between them is that Stolas tried to make the best of a hopeless situation while Stella decided to make him the scapegoat of her anger.. Is Stolas perfect? No, no one said he was, but in WHAT WORLD does his actions justify being abused??? I will NEVER agree with you on that.

I BET Stella has a lot of grievances about Stolas specifically. Even before the cheating. Especially because he was "weak".. But that doesn't mean that their situation is HIS fault. It doesn't mean that he deserves the way she treats him...

I'm all for wanting more from Stella as a character. I'm all for finding out more about her motives and I'd love to find out why she's the way she is.. But that won't make her actions better, it just won't. So stop it.