#and i'm like 'make something up! i don't want people to fall asleep reading this'

[harleiquina]

Hey! I'm late for the party (because being overworked and underpaid sucks and always ends up in burnout -not fully recovered as of now, just with spare time because its Christmas, I'm working and nobody is calling so I can delve in Tumblr as much as my heart desires-).

First of all... I wrote my original reply around 2 or 3 am because my dog woke me up and I couldn't fall asleep again. So probably I had a point and eventually lead to something else because... sleepy brain goes brr.

About the writing

It is true that between saying it or just leave it out the text, leaving it out of the text is the safer option. There is also the posibility that it was planting an idea that never truly came to be so it is just dangling there with no other purpose... it happened to me a few times that I plant a seed of something in a story and then completely forget about it and sometimes I remember and remove it. I don't know how the time frame and due dates are in the process of creating a comic (if it was written arch per arch or if NG had all planned out and later came up with the different issues) but I guess that is they were going issue per issue -writing, drawing, coloring, formating and eventually printing it- there weren't many options to go back and fix something that didn't worked.

And yes... these were the '90s so... there isn't much to do about it.

In the end of the day, Sandman isn't Hob's story. Maybe there was a chance that if audiences liked him enough there could've been a limited run series of him through time and it didn't happened maybe there was a plan to do so but audiences preffered Death over him (can't blame them). Then the audience could've see him after his meeting with Morpheus and maybe growing a backbone eventually to stop his bussiness with the Slave Trade. We will never know.

Shipping and willingfully-ignorant fans

I'm not into shipping either (I'm not going to deny that in any fandom some edits or fanarts are cute) and in this particular case, even if I understand from where it comes from... I'm so done with it. Maybe if instead of casting the son they would've gone with the father things wouldn't have gone that far 🤣

Mischaracterization is a common phenomena in any fandom, sometimes it could be the main shtick to the plot of one pice of fanfic but when the bee-hive fandom accepts it as official headcanon there is no turning back and you just have to ignore it.

Had fandom had a more accurate-looking Hob they might've reacted differently. I haven't read the comics but I've seen a few panels... and he kind of grosses me out. There is no question there that he was on any easy-way to do money (thief, soldier, slave trader) with little to no remorse. But shippers only see what they want to see and leave any kind of nuance flies out the window.

There are (possibly) many fanfic writers that took Hob's dark past (in general) and did created well grounded stories where he gets to reflect on what he's done and how to atone for it. But fluff is fluff and it gets more views. And I think that's the root of it all... some people just want a cozy coffe-shop AU because they are only in there for the romance, others want to read something that will make them question either the character or themselves, analize how certain events played out or could happen. Pretty much as with movies you have the blockbusters, the historic dramas, the romance and an audience for each one of them.

It might feel like some of them are glossing over a very serious subject that should be treated with respect however there is a different place to tackle those subjects on... hopless romantic fanfics are not the right place.

However there is also those who go full "he did nothing wrong" and this could stem from both options: people who are racist themselves, or people that has no idea of what it being a part of the Slave Trade really means. Given that History is so far back, is easy to "forget" or even imagine the living conditions back then. Of course, those who have grandparents or greatgrandparents that have experienced it in the flesh will not let it fly.

In the end of the day it all depends on whoever is reading. They can be affected by it, shocked, outraged or not... that's how Art works and none of us has the right moral compass to tell others if they should be ashamed or not.

We can tell them to knock it off or at least tag properly, but thats an entirely different can of worms 🤣

Hob Gadling’s Involvement in the Transatlantic Slave Trade between the 16th and 19th Century

The Fallacy of (clumsily written) Racial Reconciliation or: Is show/Hob really different from comics!Hob

I originally wrote this a while back as a reply to someone else’s post, but since we’ve been discussing “Men of Good Fortune” (comics) and “The Sound of Her Wings” (Netflix) in our community over the past weeks, I’ve expanded on a few points of my original thoughts.

This post discusses difficult topics, systemic racism, questions of social (in)justice and problematic angles in writing. If that’s not your thing, this is the exit sign…

A question that comes up quite frequently is the following:

Is show!Hob different from comics!Hob?

Hob’s conversation with Dream in 1789 (and not just 1789) in the show has been significantly altered (compared to the comics), and it makes it tempting to believe this somehow makes him different regarding the more problematic side of his character.

In the comics, we have a bit of dialogue in 1789 that shows how deeply involved in the slave trade Hob was: “I sort of started it,�� said with a hint of, dare I say, pride? And then brushing off Dream’s concerns by saying, “It’s a living.” Twice.

(They changed this to, “It’s just how it’s done”, and a shrug in the show.)

And it’s true: If this had been integrated into the show, it would have painted him in an even worse light. However, I personally think it was the wrong move to leave it out (Ferdinand Kingsley carefully voiced something along those lines as well btw). Because now the show pushed Hob’s whole involvement in the slave trade much more into the direction of, “Oopsie.”

Can we truly take leaving out the above dialogue as a hint that Hob might be a better person in the show? I’d like to really reflect on that--leaving out those comments can’t make him a better person. Even if we change his arc slightly and he “wasn’t that involved.” You’re involved, or you aren’t. There is no, “I tried a bit of slave trading and decided it wasn’t for me.” One could even argue it makes the angle of the show more problematic because it makes the slave trade a “little blip” in his timeline. Things like that can’t be a blip. I personally think the writers made a mistake here, but that’s obviously just my opinion.

If there wasn’t enough space in the show to expand on it (which I get for a side character), I feel they should have left out the slavery arc completely instead of keeping, but then minimising it (that might sound contradictory, but it only does if you don’t look at it too closely). It already didn't sit right with me 30 years ago to use slavery as a side note for showing a white person’s character development without properly examining the damage caused, and it still doesn't sit right with me now. It makes the plight of PoC a plot vehicle to centre white people’s guilt, and I always thought that’s a blind spot only white people have (and I’m white myself, to get that out of the road straightaway).

I’m not saying it couldn’t or shouldn’t have been used narratively. Or that you can’t show remorse and atonement/redemption for the most heinous acts (that’s not the same as forgiveness—I’ll get to that). Or that characters who have committed said acts are irredeemable. But it would have needed to be fleshed out instead of making it a comment in passing. Many books and movies do exactly that. But the point is that it’s never been fleshed out.

“But they had to shorten and streamline it…”—just no. Because to me (and ofc people are free to disagree), that exactly proves the point—centring the white guy while sidelining the people who suffer. I am a bit doubtful we’ll get anything remotely appropriate in the show after what we’ve already seen. Only time will tell, so I’m withholding final judgment at this point. Fact is: It is uncomfortable to watch for people with any sensitivity on the matter.

And yet, there is a lot of focus on leaving out Hob voicing his regret in 1889, since that (again) “would have painted him in a better light.”

While simultaneously regularly failing to mention that he proudly proclaimed he “invented” the triangle trade. Can we really pick and choose his traits like that? Hob is a materialistic opportunist who also has some regrets. That doesn’t mean he can’t exist as a character, or that we’re not allowed to like him (morally grey characters are often the most compelling ones). We don’t need to sanitise him though, or try to erase his problematic traits from canon. The same goes for other characters (yes, I’m looking at you, Dream, and I’m sure we’ll get to that very soon—in fact, we’re possibly starting tomorrow 🫣). If we are talking about Hob’s remorse, we are probably mostly thinking about Sunday Mourning, so I need to bring in issue #73 at this point (this is your spoiler warning if you don’t want to read ahead).

The Fallacy of Racial Reconciliation

Very plainly:

A black woman is used as a vehicle to forgive Hob. And said black woman has been written by a white male author for that sole purpose without giving her anything else to do. I personally think NG got that wrong. It was clumsy and insensitive to POC, and I really hope they change this for the show. It’s a fact that he really wasn’t good with writing black female characters in the whole run—they all get fridged in one way or another, and he even admits it in the Sandman Companion. And then turns around and basically implies that it's all okay now because “nothing bad” happens to Gwen once Morpheus is dead. She is allowed to be a vehicle for the character development of a white guy though. It’s just really insensitive, and I sincerely hope they don't put it in the show this way. And I’m glad that we're seeing hints it might not happen--at least the casting in the show hints at it (from Lucienne, Death and Rose to very likely turning Carla into a white man—we already met Carl, and that’s who he is IMHO).

There is also the not so small fact that Hob is, even in his guilt and shame (shame is always about yourself, and that’s actually very in keeping with his character), not honest with Gwen. The thing about him basically inventing the triangle trade, which he so proudly proclaimed in 1789?

The English who were so good at it? The “Jack” Hawkins he talked about in 1789? That’s actually this dude:

And Hob funded him 200 years before 1789, and enabled Hawkins. Hob was involved in what became the transatlantic slave trade well before 1789–he already funded it when he had money in the 1500s.

He carried that mindset around with him for literal hundreds of years and saw nothing wrong with it until at least (! more about that in a sec) 1789. Dream had to rub his nose in it, otherwise it wouldn’t even have occurred to him (or did it, and he just chose to ignore it--see below).

Hob has been written as a stand-in for humanity, British Imperialism and England over the centuries—with all that entails.

So how honest is he with Gwen? And how long, even after 1789, was he still involved, even after abolition in England (Somerset vs. Stewart declared slavery unlawful in England in 1772, but that wasn't true for the rest of the British Empire. Buying and selling slaves was only made illegal in 1807, while owning slaves only became unlawful with the Abolition Act of 1833, and it took another year to buy out slave owners to actually make it happen)? Because there’s still this:

“It got worse when they did [outlaw the slave trade]. You only needed one voyage in three to make a profit. You could afford to dump your cargo if… you spotted a British Man o’ War.” How does he know? Why does he have these nightmares? We can take a guess…

That’s not someone who tried it for a couple of weeks and then thought, “Sorry, my bad.” That’s someone who has been opportunistically involved from the 1500s and potentially until after slavery was unlawful in England, which it already was when he talked to Dream in 1789. So does his feigned ignorance of, "It's a living/It's how it's done?" really hold? Especially if he potentially kept going, even after that convo with Dream? When I wrote "between the 16th and 19th Century" in the header, that's exactly what I meant...

Guilt and Shame

Yes, what we see above and in all the other panels is guilt and shame. And it reminded me of this:

And I’d encourage everyone to really listen to what Jasper has to say, and sit with the feelings it brings up. Because I can still remember watching this in the George Floyd aftermath for the first time, and how deeply uncomfortable it made me—because he’s right.

Black people/PoC do not need to forgive and absolve white people from their guilt. They can if they wish to, but that’s their choice, not ours. It’s not for white people to absolve other white people from their guilt around the oppression of PoC. And that’s why it could be argued it’s not for white people to write a black character to do that in their stead either (they can of course, but then they need to live with the fact that people will call them tone-deaf). It could also be argued it is something that cannot be forgiven retrospectively, and white people need to be okay with that. It can only be worked on in the present with a view to the future. And as Jasper also so rightly points out:

The guilt is not even helpful (at least Gwen has the right sentiment there, but it’s still falls incredibly flat over all), and shame only centres ourselves.

Forgiveness vs Redemption

Hob Gadling's regrets don't make everything he did forgivable. I think it actually does the story a disservice if that’s our main takeaway, because this is truly one of the bits of The Sandman that’s written in an extremely tone-deaf manner. NG isn’t the first author who did this, but we can take something good and helpful from this, and that’s engaging with these questions instead of brushing them under the carpet—because that’s what literary analysis is about.

It should be clear that I do see Hob Gadling as narratively important because I see him as a stand-in for humanity, and more specifically, English history. And there is really so much to learn from that.

Writers can get things narratively right but still be emotionally tone-deaf due to their own blind-spots. We don’t need to assume malice, but we also don’t need to leave it entirely unchallenged.

And because of that, we can certainly see Hob as someone who has to live with his conscience, and the consequences of his actions, for the rest of his life and struggles with that (as he should). And maybe we can see him as someone who is now, finally, trying to do the work. Because that is what atonement and redemption actually mean:

Taking action to rectify past wrongs. Actively working against the harm once caused, and preventing it from ever happening again. And I hope that’s what he does, and the signs are there (but there are also still signs that he values covering up his immortality higher than e.g. telling Gwen the truth. And we can find a million excuses for why that is, but ultimately, none of them truly matter).

However, it is not the same as forgiveness from the people we have wronged. Forgiveness is not a prerequisite to redemption, although it can be a part of it if the person who has been wronged chooses to extend it. But the people Hob wronged are dead, while their descendants still need to live with the pain people like Hob caused to this very day. So while I don’t see him as irredeemable, I don’t think he needs to, or even can, be forgiven—especially not by black people (unless they choose to. But it is also fine if they don’t, and again, we need to be okay with that). And we could say, “But Gwen chose to.” To that, I say:

I wonder what Gwen would have said if he had been truly honest with her (which he wasn’t, see below panels). That wouldn’t have been an embrace is my guess…

[bookshelf-in-progress]

It's a good sign I'm recovering from my creative slump that I was able to brainstorm a story that makes me laugh.

[radioactive-cloud]

i'm tipsy and sad and i just want to matter and not to feel like this

[lymtw]

It's three in the morning and the sound of your phone vibrating against the bed wakes you from your peaceful slumber. You lazily reach for the blinding light next to you, instantly knowing who's on the other end when you see the blue diamond emoji.

"Hello..."

You were very much asleep, the raspiness in your voice making it that much more evident.

"Hey, sorry to wake you. Are you okay to talk for a bit?"

Satoru sounds like he's wide awake.

"Don't worry about it. What's up?"

You roll onto your side, your phone between your ear and your pillow. If you close your eyes for more than three seconds, you'll fall asleep again.

There's a slight pause between your response and his. Maybe the signal is bad or he didn't hear you.

"Is everything alright, Satoru?"

"I can't sleep."

He responds quickly this time. His tone didn't change. He didn't sound like he was in distress or too worried about the fact.

"Oh. Uh... have you tried drinking some chamomile tea? I personally don't like it, but when I need to rest, I suck it up and force myself to drink a cup."

He chuckles on the line. You always do what is best for you, even if it's not something you particularly enjoy.

"I think i'm just missing you a lot. Can I come over?"

It was strange to think he hadn't tried a tea remedy for his inability to sleep, but who were you to tell him that? Sleep deprivation does things to people.

"Right now? It's a little late, don't you think?"

You blink slowly, trying to adjust your blurry vision in the dark.

"I promise I won't fall asleep behind the wheel. I really want to see you. Please say yes."

You shut your eyes tightly and open them, your vision clearing up a little. When have you ever said 'no' to him? He always manages to change your mind when you do.

You sigh.

"Okay. You have the spare key to my apartment. I'm going back to sleep."

"I'll be there in like fifteen minutes. Love you, bye!"

You can hear the joy in his tone. He was genuinely so uncomfortable being alone with himself, that he had to wake you up so late at night to invade your space.

–

You knocked out again, once you hung up the phone. You were in such deep sleep that you didn't even notice when Satoru got to your apartment, or when he entered your room.

You did feel the bed weigh down when he laid down next to you, and your nose couldn't ignore his sweet, sweet scent.

"Baby," he whispered. "I'm here."

"Okay, now go to sleep," you mumble, your eyes still closed.

"Come here." He effortlessly turns you over and pulls you close, lifting your leg over his hip. His hand went up to your face, caressing your delicate, peaceful features before scattering kisses all over it, making sure to elongate the duration of the ones he leaves on your lips.

"Baby," he coos. "Come on, kiss me back."

He's like a dog—constantly begging for your attention. The thought makes you crack a smile, one Satoru does not miss.

"I know you're awake." He smiles, putting your leg back in place, before rolling over until he's on top you.

"Fucking hell, 'toru," you break, cracking up at how he had no remorse after crushing your body.

"There's my pretty baby. I'm so glad you're awake now."

"It's your fault," you grumble.

"If wanting to love you is a crime, then throw me in the slammer and toss the key." His nose dove into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. "You're just so pretty, and you're all mine."

His affection was starting to evolve into more than lovey dovey kisses. His lips stung every time they met your delicate neck. His hands were roaming beneath your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He loved the way your breathing quickened. It had him chasing more of the reactions associated with the hummed melodies.

"You are mine, right?" He knows the answer, but hearing you say it from time to time always makes him happy. His icy blue eyes can read your response before you even form it. He loves flustering you with eye contact tied with touches that burned with desire. To top it all off, he loves teasing you to see the way you scramble your response. "It's okay if you're not." He smirks, catching the way your eyes widened the slightest bit. "That's subject to change, isn't it?" He eggs on.

"I'm yours, Satoru. I belong to you," you say, making it crystal clear to him. "All yours." With this, he wouldn't doubt it again until the next time he wasn't with you.

"Yeah? You know, I would've done anything to hear those words from you." He leans down to kiss you, a spike of arousal hitting him when you bit his lip and sucked on it.

"Oh... you can't do that. I will put a baby in you." He has never said anything so seriously.

"I dare you to put a baby in me," you say, teasingly. You know he won't do it. He's not ready to share you yet.

"Keep acting like that and I will."

His lips ghost the column of your neck, trailing down your chest and lower to your abdomen. Your oversized gown of a t-shirt was the only thing standing between your body and his eyes. He pulled it up and off with a little help from you, tossing it aside after.

You were a little nervous about what was running through Satoru's head. He was devouring you with just his eyes and already you felt so flustered.

"God, don't ogle me like that, 'toru." You put your hands over your breasts—a makeshift bra to cover what he was staring at.

"Let me see you, baby," he pries, gently. He puts his hands on yours, not pulling them away as to not make you do anything you don't want to do. You end up moving your hands on your own, but turn away, unable to hold his gaze when he's watching you that way.

He cups your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your nipples, instantly making them pebble. He could feel the way you tried to press your thighs together, your relief disturbed by his body wedged between your legs. You tried your hardest to remain composed, but his fingers wouldn't let up. His eyes were glued to your face, watching intently until you let out a shaky breath.

"Mhm..." he hummed, grinning at your bashful attempt to stay quiet. "I know this is driving you crazy."

"Shut... up."

"If it isn't, why can I feel you rubbing up against my stomach."

You stop and your cunt throbs at the suddenness of it.

"Just let it out and we can move on. Let me hear that pretty little ah-"

"Fuck," you whimper, interrupting his instructive moan. Your back arches slightly off the mattress, your hands flying to grip his wrists, tightly.

"Good girl," he praises, his fingers letting off your tortured peaks. Little butterfly kisses are placed between your breasts, trailing down to your stomach, where he spends so much time eliciting giggles from you.

His fingers hook around the elastic band of your shorts and panties, pulling them both down in one swoop.

"I didn't know kissing turned you on so much," he says, eyeing the glossy remnants left in your underwear.

"'toru..." you whine, feeling somewhat embarrassed about the amount of arousal you feel at the simplest touches from him.

"What? I'm not complaining one bit. It's cute."

He slides two fingers between your folds, easily collecting your sweetness. You jolt at the sudden contact, looking at him with doe eyes.

"Oh, baby. I don't deprive you of my touch that much, do I?"

You shake your head as he continues to collect your nectar, his fingers dipping in slightly to fully coat his fingertips.

"My sensitive princess." He smiles, softly. "How many times do you wanna cum?"

He never asks you this, always just giving you everything he can give or what you can take. You go for a small number, not wanting to seem excessively needy.

"Maybe two times? Please?" Your voice sounds meek. Like you're asking him for the impossible.

Satoru just chuckles. "How 'bout we triple that number?"

–

"S-Satoru—fuck— just like that, like that!" Your head pushes back against the pillow, your hands beside your head, scrunching up the sheets.

This was the fourth orgasm. There was cum spotted over your inner thighs and sweat layered over both your bodies. He had driven you to insanity like he planned.

"More, baby?" He grunts, thrusting with his continuous pace.

"Please," you cry out, fresh tears welling in your eyes again.

Satoru loved watching the tears stream down your face because he got to lean down and kiss them away. He takes the opportunity to praise you— to tell you how good you're being for him.

Your back arched and you braced yourself for the intensity of your next orgasm. Satoru swallowed your moans, kissing you fervently through his own rush. His breathing stuttered when he felt your nails clawing at his back, and once again his cum spurted into you. His breathing was heavy through the nose due to his insistence of kissing you until he you patted him for air.

"Fuck," you muttered. You let out an out of breath laugh, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to even out your breathing.

"That's five, baby." He exhales sharply, leaning back and running a hand through his dampened locks. You look at him with twinkling eyes, a smirk being thrown in your direction from your admiration.

"Come here," you say, outstretching your arms towards him. Satoru immediately fills the vacancy, sighing when you rake your nails against the nape of his neck. "Want you to take your time with this last one."

He takes that as a green light to start up again. He guides his cock into you again, savoring the hum that leaves you when he stuffs you again and begins his slow rhythm.

"'toru?" Your voice sounded sultry to his ears.

"Hm?"

"This won't happen again. I hope you know that." You're trying your hardest not laugh or make any sounds that take from the meaning of what you're saying.

He had to raise his head to meet your gaze. Something in the way he looked at you made you believe that this would definitely happen again.

"I hope it does. I love having you under me."

"It's inconvenient. It's so late, 'toru. Why can't we fuck when i'm not trying to sleep? Like in the daytime, or earlier in the night?"

His lips trace your jawline, and you just know he's going for your neck. Satoru lives for pointing out the marks he left on you, the day after.

"Simple," he hums. "I want you to myself." His hips continue to rock into you at the same languid pace. "At night, nobody is gonna take you from me. You won't be distracted and I get all your attention to myself." He kisses your neck. "You're all mine at night. Nobody expects you to be awake."

You gasp when he hits a spot that aches deliciously.

"Come on, baby. Give it to me," he murmurs into your neck. You can feel the way his back ripples as he instinctively picks up the pace. He was overwhelming, thrusting deeper and deeper like he was trying to consume you. What was supposed to be a slow drive towards your final orgasm of the night, turned into him unapologetically using his stamina to lure everything he could out of you. He was almost too much with the way his mouth was ruthless towards your neck and the bruising grip he kept on your hips. You were rendered the smallest thing for him.

"Satoru," you moaned, mindlessly grabbing onto his shoulder blades.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." He kisses you, tenderly, heavily contrasting the savage speed of thrusts.

You whimpered into the lip lock. Your heels dug into the mattress and your toes curled from the intensity of the pleasure you felt. Your breathing became heavier but Satoru refused to unlink his lips from yours. He couldn't when the sounds you made tasted like heaven on his tongue. His own sounds mingled with yours, a harmony that let you know that you weren't the only one feeling good. He was rutting into you, a telltale sign that he was about to cum.

"Mmm..." he hums, before unlatching his lips from yours. He panted as he watched you unravel beneath him, the smallest pinch between your brows as you gushed on him again. The way your walls spasmed around him had him following right after, another load painting your walls.

He grinned at you devilishly, the expression followed by a bright and sunny, airy chuckle. He pulls out of you, and looks down to watch your combined fluids slowly ooze out of you.

"Damn, you really tried putting a baby in me." You sigh, heavily, immediately regaining his attention. "Why do we fuck like this every time?" You rub your eyes, your sleepiness coming back around.

"I'll get one in there someday." He rubs his palm over your stomach. "And also, it's always like that because I love the face you make when you cum and you love the process of giving me that sight." His eye conveyed a seductiveness to their expression that kept you in check.

Your face goes red, warm to the touch. "Shut up." You sit up and playfully shove him.

"I get to cover you in semipermanent kisses, too." His hand comes up to the side of your neck and his fingers trace the red smudges that will darken over time. You roll your eyes, yet still put your hand over his, bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"We should shower. It's almost five in the morning." You ignore the mischievous glint in his eyes and the way he's obviously trying to suppress a boyish grin.

"Carry me, please?"

Satoru chuckles, knowing exactly why you want him to carry you.

[hxzbinwrites]

Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD

Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles

Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.

"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.

"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.

"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.

"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."

"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"

"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."

Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.

--------

"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"

Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.

He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.

"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.

"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.

"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?

"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."

"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.

"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"

"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.

"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"

Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"

"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"

"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"

"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.

"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.

She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.

(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.

But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.

Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.

She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.

"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"

"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.

Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.

The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.

The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.

This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.

The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.

“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.

“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.

“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”

Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.

(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.

Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.

Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.

Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”

(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!

Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?

(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.

“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.

————

Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.

He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”

Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.

He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.

Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.

“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”

Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.

“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”

Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.

————

Word Count 1,524

[hairmetal666]

They start kissing on stage as a joke.

The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."

Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."

"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.

"I don't know, other bands do it!"

Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.

Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.

They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.

Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.

The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.

He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.

But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.

They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.

The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.

He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.

They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.

They don't talk about it.

Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.

A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.

Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.

"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.

He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"

His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.

"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"

"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"

Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."

Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.

"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."

And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--

"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.

Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."

He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."

Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"

"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.

"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."

Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."

Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.

It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.

Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."

Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"

"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.

"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."

Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."

[gravegoer]

I hear your call [P3] ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ

i actually got A LOT of asks saying i should do something with siren reader having legs ?!?! did u guys band together to make me do this... summary: sevika takes you out places you've never been and shows her gentleness also a bit of a song at the end (its so fun pls)

masterlist , 2.3k , kind of suggestive? , part 2

Eventually, you did fall asleep in Sevikas tub (really the inn's). I mean, how could you not? She somehow managed to fill it with the perfect temperature and dimmed the lights just for you, making sure you settled in perfectly.

You awoke to her flicking on the big light in the early morning, hissing at the intrusion. But your motions were halted when you looked up to see her form clad in tight shorts and an almost-all-the-way unbuttoned white shirt, the sleeves rolled up past her forearms.

It was rare to see her without her intricate straps, hat, and weapons strapped to her waist, so you definitely took in this sight while you still could.

"I need to get you back to the water. Can't stay in this tub forever," She spoke, settling her hands on her hips.

"Mmm, says who?" You closed your eyes and sank deeper into the water.

"Says my dabloons, can't afford to be stayin' another night."

You suddenly remember your previous kidnapping and Sevika's heroic work (that resulted in a lot of money being spent). You shot her an apologetic look before she laughed a hearty laugh and leaned on the sink.

"I'm joking. Just dont want you out of the sea longer than you need be. Heard it makes mer-people sick," She mumbled the last part.

"Where'd you hear that?" You cocked an eyebrow at her, who was now fixing her dark hair in the mirror.

"I read it—"

"Read it? Pirates can read?" Now it was your turn to laugh.

She got flustered and blubbered out a, "Supposing you even know what a book is."

You laughed at her statement and said, "Well, did you read I need not be in water at all?"

She shook her head, still groggy from her sleep, "Hell are you talking about?"

You tilted your head to your tail— or where it should have been.

What. The. Fuck.

Her eyes widened, and she stepped over to the tub, eyeing your knees sticking out of the water. "Where— where did it go."

You laughed before explaining how, after a while of being in regular water without salt, you were able to develop human legs. This only lasted until you made long‐term contact with salt water again.

To Sevika's shock, you stood up confidently and stumbled at the slipperiness of the tub, water making it hard to maneuver. She reached out to grab you as you yelped, grunting as she held you up, helping you out of the tub. Water dripped onto the floor, and she looked down to realize that it wasn't just legs that you had.

She grunted and looked away over your head, attempting to clear her thoughts. Her thick hand rested on your now non-scaled hip, and her metal one was placed carefully on her arm, trying to keep you as far as she could without dropping you.

"I haven't stood on legs in a while, sorry."

She nodded, "Yeah. I noticed," She commented sarcastically, "Need to get you clothed."

You felt little to no embarrassment about your unclothed state and hummed at her words, starting to walk to the door of the bathroom.

She sighed at your eagerness and kept a hand on your back as you walked, tightening her grip whenever you stumbled. Sitting you down on the bed, she pointed a finger at you as if ordering you to stay.

You obeyed and watched her shuffle through her previously worn clothes, assuming she had no other clothes. (What she is wearing right now is definitely her under clothes..) She grimaced and held up quite a large white poet shirt in your direction.

You shrugged, "That works."

She tossed it to you, and the scent of cigars and salt wafted from the shirt. You threw it on haphazardly, and it covered enough to look like a short dress. "I don't have any pants or shoes—"

She stopped mid sentence when she turned to look at you and cleared her throat, "We'll go to the markets."

You nodded, assuming the market was somewhere you could get clothes. She stepped over to you, multiple straps and belts in hand, "I'll make it look as put together as possible," she mumbled.

Her hands skillfully strapped belts around your torso, making the shirt appear as though it fit properly. She made sure it still hung low on your hips, covering the fact you lacked undergarments.

You weren't so open to the idea of going out into public when you were previously almost sold off. You feared the peoples faces and evil eyes, staring you down. The memories of the cold cage were resurfacing in your mind, but you were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by Sevika.

She now stood at the door to the hall, tilting her head questioningly. She had already gotten dressed and motioned for you to follow her, "C'mon, you can take ten steps."

You rolled your eyes and walked over to her, although like a newborn deer, you still managed. She had a hand on your lower back, supporting you down the hall and just about carrying you as you walked down the stairs.

She sensed your discomfort at the fact that you had no shoes, and the hard wood of the floor wasn't helping your inability to walk. She bent over and snatched up a pair of boots from beside a random man and tossed them into your arms.

"Hey, what the fuck?"

She turned back to glare at him, "Maybe put them on your fucking feet next time."

Her voice was horse and intimidating in the face of any man, lacking the gentleness she previously had with you.

He gritted his teeth and got up to spew his complaints to the keeper. You watched in disbelief before Sevika elbowed you gently in your back, "Lets go."

Before you could say anything else, she was pushing you out the door, boots still in your arms. "Put them on before we go further."

You eyed the rough concrete stairs that were your only option to sit on. Looking up at her, you smiled crookedly. She ran her hand down her face, realizing you didn't want your legs to make contact with the roughness. But without another word, she got on one knee, other thigh level with your knees so you could sit.

Her sword sheathe scraped the ground as she kneeled, leather boot thudding on the ground behind her. Not letting you protest she pulled you by the shirt down onto her leg, taking the boots out of your hands.

Your hands stayed in your lap as she pulled your legs out to cover your feet with the boots. Although she struggled a bit to put shoes on another person she still did so as soft as possible, feeling as if your legs were frail.

You kept your eyes on her face as she did so, eyeing the scar on her face and lip before she spoke, "It has to do for now. I'll get you out of them soon."

..

Although it was a struggle, you both made it to the market. Even though you had gotten more used to legs heavy boots, weighing down your feet and tiredness made your legs sore. But upon seeing the bright colors of the market, smelling the scent of fresh pastries and fruit, and hearing pleasing music you almost immediately perked up.

Sevika noticed your change in demeanor and smirked, "Never been here, huh?"

You nodded rapidly and almost ran to a stand that had bright and scarves with intricate patterns. The shop owner immediately started to talk you up. "This color would be so beautiful with your hair, miss." She wrapped a blue scarf around your shoulders.

Sevika walked up behind you as you looked at your reflection in the small mirror, turning this way and that. You hummed in satisfaction before starting to waltz away. Sevika grabbed you by the back of the scarf, "Nope, you gotta pay."

"Ummm.." You looked up at her with confusion.

"No money, no scarf," She took it from your shoulders and set it back on the stand, grinning.

You huffed and crossed your arms, looking around at other stalls. She grabbed your shoulder with one hand and moved your face with the other, pointing it into the direction of a far away stand. "Only the necessities."

She started in the direction, and you quickly grabbed onto her arm to trail after her. Approaching the stand with shelves that held shoes, Sevika held up a pair, as if asking if they were to your liking.

You grimaced at the style and started to look for yourself. Grabbing delicacy styled shoes, you showed them to Sevika. She smiled softly and shook her head at your choice but put down a few coins for the owner anyway.

She reluctantly would let you drag her to every stall you wanted to look at, putting up with your curiosity. She knew she wouldn't have patience like this for anyone else.

When you put on something pretty and looked to her for approval, she would give you a satisfied look. But still refused to buy you anything unnecessary.

Sevika eventually got you a long skirt that was flowy and hung almost to the ground. It almost mimicked your tail in its motions as you walked, she smiles at the reminder.

When you asked questions about the odd trinkets, she would pick them up and show you how it worked. A music box looked small and delicate in her hold, and the soft melody coming from within made you smile brightly.

You swayed a bit to the music, holding her hands up to your ear so you could hear it better. She couldn't do much but stare wide-eyed at the sight of you blissfully giggling at the music.

As you started off to another stall, she quickly dropped a few coins in front of the seller and shoved the music box in her pocket.

When it neared noon, she took you to eat at a food stand, handing you a few kabobs of different meats and veggies. You munched on them happily, sharp teeth tearing into the meat easily. (Noted.)

She definitely took you to try her favorites because all you eat is probably fish. She takes in the sight of you sighing at the flavors and shoving more into your mouth.

You guys bond over food..

It was now nearing night, the sun set far in to the west. The small amount of darkness was illuminated by candles and lanterns scattered around the area. You could see women gossiping together over some tea and bread, men slinging one another around in joke, kids chasing each other with small creatures. This was one of which a sight you'd never seen.

You gawked, never having viewed humanity in this way, only seeing people that inhabited the seas you could have never guessed how average civilians behaved. The night now no longer seemed so fierce, holding no malice like the previous night.

Sevika approached you to put a hand on your shoulder. She was proud to show you things you had never experienced. She would show you as much of the land as you wanted if you just asked.

Pulling you away from the crowd, she led you to a cliff that overlooked the ocean. Your position closely mimicking the day you met her, Sevika sat on a rock with you beside her. Her metal hand rested on your hip comfortably. You talked about your adventures of the day, the things you liked, and the people you met.

"Thank you for this, I never thought I'd be happy to reside on land."

She grunted in response and pulled a small box from her pocket, a music box. You gasped and took it from between her fingers, shocked she had really gotten it for you.

You winded the small handle before releasing it to hear the familiar melody, bringing back your memories of the day. Looking up to see Sevika, her expression was so loving and gentle, a face you've never seen on her before. Her eyes were illuminated by the dim sunset, emphasizing her contentment.

You smiled before you parted your lips, and betwixt came a song,

link to it (i highly reccomend, it sets the mood)

"Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a young lass who seem'd to be in pain

Saying, "William, when you go, I fear you'll ne'er return again"

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold"

She listened blissfully, taking in the fact that your songs had no effect on her. Your beautiful voice hummed in her ears, and she looked into the sea, engraving this memory into her mind.

She could see her ship from where you sat, the wind blowing into the sail softly, yanking on the rope that tied it to the dock. Yes, she was going to take you anywhere you wanted to go. This much was set in stone.

After this, she dragged you to the ship with her crew and invited you to join her, obviously you said yes.

She's very happy to have someone to accompany her on her journeys. She isnt so bitter and lonely now thats for sure

And yes, you still get to swim in the water. A lot of the crew doesn't know your siren side, so Sevika tosses you into the water at night, letting the glimmer of your scales lead her ship.

During the day, you will follow alongside the ship, making sure none of the crew can see you, but Sevika does.

Sometimes, she gets distracted by you and goes off route a bit.

I like to think she can't really swim, so you try to teach her whenever you get a chance, and she always ends up clinging to you as you tease her.

She shows you mountains, forests, architecture, (bars), etc. And you love every moment of it.

Also, she replaced the mermaid on the front of her ship with a mermaid carved to look like you. And no, she didn't pay for it to be done. She did it herself.

Whilst she stood on a ladder she watched you frolic in the waves, making sure to carve every curve and detail she found beautiful.

Although, there wasn't one part of you she didn't find beautiful.

the end felt a bit rushed but im bad at endings, i might do some other side fics for this but thank you for the support on this fic! also i thought it was funny how @lovinglywriting sent me an ask about something sooo similar to what i was writing while i was mid fic lol and @slut4sevika send in a sweet ask tysm <33

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @lez-zuha @haboinga

[vettelsvee]

I ALREADY HAVE A WIFE | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

ferrari sebastian vettel x race engineer wife!reader

word count: 3450

summary: seb messes up on a press conference while his pregnant wife is there, and he also has to face a journalist that wants to try have a chance with him

warnings: this is based on THAT interview you know all too well (what are YOUR plans?). curse words, pregnancy and everything involved in it, talks of abortion, mental health issues (fluff fluff fluff)

a/n: this is part of history series (coming soon as is being heavily edited). it was my maiden series so... look carefully between lines because there might be some details you don't want to miss out. let me know what do you think of this pleaseeeeee you know i'm always waiting for your feedback, as well as comments and chats on that anon button please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“Rose Benson, for The Times. A question for all three drivers: it’s just 102 days until we’re in Australia. What are your plans now between… What are you gonna be doing over the winter break? 

“What are your plans?”

Everyone in the room was no surprised by Seb’s answer. Laughter started to fill the room, spreading quickly except for two people: Britta and you. You noticed her gaze piercing your husband, as if she were mentally scolding him, like every time she did when he messed up. You, however, just looked at him with a look of disappointment.

She was unsure about what she had just heard, you knew it perfectly.

Seb face immediately turned pale, as if he knew he shouldn’t have said that. As Seb’s not also wife, but also race engineer, you were used to this kind of behaviour and jokes, but today… it just hit different. 

“Seemed to be counting the days,” he continued while starting to laugh a bit nervous. “Can’t wait.”

Max and Lewis, sitting next to him, joined in the laughter, making him laugh even more as the situation seemed to begin to slip out of his control. You were sure that he knew that having you just a few meters away, shaking your head constantly at the same time you whispered something to his PR didn’t bode well. 

“Seb, you go first,” a journalist said. “What are your plans?”

“Uh…”

“Another baby?” Lewis interrupted.

You knew all to well that he tried his best to not tell anything. Apart from your four years old little girl, both of your families, and Britta and Antti, no one knew yet that you couldn’t try for another baby because the baby was already on the way. 

You couldn’t take the risk of sharing the news and then telling people all over the world that you had an abortion, just as happened to you in 2016.

“Uh... well…” Seb stammered, not knowing what else to say. “Quickly done.”

Even though you were caught up in the laughter around you, you couldn’t control your growing nervousness, as well as your husband, and it kept getting worse every time you glanced at him. You crossed your arms, almost falling off your chair, and decided to rest your head on Britta's shoulder. You tried your best not to fall asleep, but the yawns continued leaving your mouth with no shame at all.

“If you need advice I know how to do it.”

Another mess-up.

Britta was already signaling with her hands to him so he stopped saying nonsense, totally overwhelmed not because she wasn’t used to it, but because she was maybe too worried about you. You straightened up as soon as you heard that, and instinctively placed your hands on your barely noticeable belly, thanking yourself for having decided to start wearing clothes a couple of sizes larger than usual.

“Keep pushing,” Max blurted out, immediately drinking from his bottle.

“Well... I don't know how long you two want to stay on free practice sessions, but... if you want…”

“I like free practice,” the Dutchman commented. “I'd rather stay there for now.”

Lewis and Max kept talking to him, but you knew he was trying his best to go along with the conversation.

After what felt like an eternity, the press conference ended. Everyone started to get up and scatter around the room, probably to chat with each other. The season was over, and they wanted to do the usual: say goodbye and wish each other a good winter break. Seb  did the same, with the difference that he headed straight towards you.

You were still sat, eyes fixed on the floor while you fidgeted with your fingers nervously, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You felt like a complete idiot because, even though he hadn't meant any harm and your really knew that, he should have thought before speaking because he knew all too well that you usually got overly sensitive. You had been through a pregnancy together before, and although it was a vast world full of unknowns, certain patterns did repeat.

The constant desire for sex and the hormonal ups and downs you suffered were the most obvious.

Slowly, he approached you and, with utmost care, knelt beside you, placing a hand on your thigh. You didn't pull away as you usually did when she was mad at him, and you saw in his eyes that he wasn’t expecting you to react that way.

“I'm sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable, especially that baby talk. The last thing I wanted to do was to upset you but I ended up messing up, like always.”

You lifted her gaze, meeting his. He knew you were not exactly sad, but a bit disappointed at the thought that someone might have discovered the pregnancy you were trying so hard to keep secret.

“I swear I hate you right now, Sebastian Vettel,” you said, being completely honest and letting the hormones act for you. “You made me feel so bad, I swear, but…”

Your words came out broken, and tried your best to keep your cool.

He knew you stopped talking because your eyes welled up more than usual: you were on the verge of breaking down but didn't want to do it in public. He leaned his forehead against yours, your faces almost touching.

“I never wanted to make you feel this way, my love,” he whispered. “You, alongside our girl, are the most important people to me, and you know that perfectly well,” you nodded, though he knew you doubted it. “You don't know how much I regret not taking care of my words…”

You looked at him, perhaps trying to find the obvious honesty behind his words. You knew he was being completely honest, but once again, your insecurity was consuming you and acting on your behalf.

“Seb, I hate myself right now. Quite a lot, actually,” you revealed in a nearly inaudible whisper. “I hate being pregnant because I feel useless! I'm so bipolar…” you tensed up, though standing and positioning yourself next to him to keep talking without anyone overhearing. “I want to hit you, I want to cry, and at the same time, I want you to take me to the bathrooms and have casual sex like we were teenagers. Do you understand me, sunshine?”

You said that but actually no, he couldn't understand you because he didn't know what it was like to be roughly eight weeks pregnant.

“Y/N, hey, listen to me love,” he said, holding your face in his hands and wiping away your tears. “You don’t have to hate yourself for feeling this way, alright? We’re in this together, and you’re going through a lot of changes. It’s completely normal to feel this way,” he repeated.

You nodded, and even curled your lips into a small smile. You didn’t waste any time and quickly started hugging him and leaving kisses on his right cheek.

But that ended abruptly when you both heard a throat clear behind you.

Britta was standing next to none other than the pink-haired girl who had asked your husband about his winter break plans earlier.

Rose Benson, that Italian journalist who had become one of the best, if not the most prominent, additions to Formula 1 journalism.

“Sebastian, as charming as ever I see…” her words made you cling tightly to Seb’s arm, a bit afraid. Again, your insecurity appeared. “Can I steal you for a few minutes for an exclusive interview?”

Her gaze fell with a hint of disdain on your, as if your were an unnecessary part of the conversation she was trying to have with your husband. Immediately, he wrapped his arm around your waist and started making faces at Britta so she could help him to get rid of that reporter.

As expected, she refused, letting him know he would have to face an interview he didn’t want to do but that it was up to him whether or not he did it. She knew better than anyone what it was like to deal with the media and, especially, with professionals like the one in front of you.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I’m busy.”

“Come on, Sebastian... we’ve known each other for years,” she persisted, getting a bit closer to Seb. “You know it would be an amazing interview... like so many we’ve had.”

You were starting to get upset again. The only thing he did was placing a hand on your belly, and it somehow calmed you, but not for long. 

“Benson, I’m serious. The only conversation I want to have right now is the one I was having with my wife,” he said, calmly rubbing your back.

“You’re disappointing me, Vettel,” she snapped, leaving you both in shock. WYou’re missing out a wonderful opportunity to be interviewed, in private, with someone like me.”

After hearing that, tears once again covered your face. You took a few steps back, slight pushing him and positioned yourself next to Britta, who didn’t know what to do other than wrap her arms around you while Seb was still watching the reporter start scribbling something on a piece of paper.

“Here’s my phone number, Seb,” she said in an overly suggestive tone as she handed him the piece of paper, which he took. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? We could find a more private place, and…”

As she got dangerously closer to him, Seb kept your eyes on you.

You hated how polite he was even though people acted in such a stupid way. 

“Rose, I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen,” you said again. “My answer, once again, is no.”

“Have you never wanted to explore curves other than those on the circuit?”

“Why are you such a fucking bitch?! The only curves he explores off the circuit are mine!”

The woman’s insinuations had pushed you over the edge. Several people were already looking at you, and you’d swear some were even taking pictures or videos, so it wouldn’t surprise you if you went viral on Twitter that night.

Benson didn’t know what to say or do after your insult, except to end the closeness she had created by moving away from your husband as much as possible, trying not to arouse suspicion from the onlookers.

“Y/N, I think it’s best if we go get some air, what do you think?” Britta suggested you.

“No, I don’t want to go get some air, Britta!” you shouted again, breaking free from Roeske’s careful grasp. You were worried about you getting this upset, but you didn’t care at all. This wasn’t good for the pregnancy. “I want to tell this stupid journalist to learn to do her damn job properly and stop meddling in marriages!”

“Excuse me? Are you calling me a cheater?” she retorted, clearly offended. “You need to learn to control what you say, dear. You’re going to get yourself into more trouble if you keep this up.”

You were getting more nervous than hearing Seb during the press conference, you’d swear.

“Yes, you!” you snapped, moving further away as Britta tried to take you out. She must have noticed how pale you had gone. “Do you think Seb doesn’t have a girlfriend? Well, surprise! He married me last June and we’ve been together for nearly seven years, and we have a daughter, and...!”

The index finger on Seb’s lips was what made you stop from revealing your third pregnancy or who knows what else. Your expression revealed him that, although he had done the best to make you shout, at that moment you only wanted to kill him.

Britta began to guide you more quickly towards the door to get out of there, but your words still could be heard despite the distance with a frustration that was more than obvious. There was a point in your life when you started saying what you wanted, fought for what you believed was not fair, and you stopped being intimidated or afraid of anything or anyone.

That’s what probably made Seb fall in love with you more and more every day, even he actually thought it would be impossible.

When you finally left, Britta handed you a bottle of water and started to calm you down, but you just couldn’t relax. Now, you were still nervous and actually worried about what Seb could be saying to that woman. His body expressions, the ones you were seeing from distance, didn’t calm you as much as you thought, and when she handed him a piece of paper you completely lost it and, once again, started crying, leaning on a wall.

A few minutes, later, Seb approached you while you saw Britta leaving you two some space.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m so sorry about what happened there. I should’ve handled it better,” he started, his voice full of concern.

“Seb, it’s not your fault. She was way out of line,” you said, your voice trembling while trying to calm yourself down. 

He pulled you into a tight hug, your body relaxing slightly against his.

“We’ll get through this, together, like we always do,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head, hoping to soothe your nerves.

His gaze meets your tear-filled eyes. Gently, he took your hands and started caressing them with his thumbs, knowing how much it relaxed you in moments of distress like this.

"Thanks for taking care of her for me, Britta," Seb said, turning around to thank your second mother once more for looking after you and sparing you any trouble.

You wanted to say something to him, but as soon as Seb turned his back again you, he got closer and closed the distance between you two, pressing his lips to yours. 

You ended up forcing yourself to pull away not because you might get horny,because you're not used to showing affection in public unless it's a completely special occasion. The world knows you only hold hands lightly or maybe kiss on the cheek, out of respect for your profession and, above all, so that people see you as an engineer and not just a WAG.

Private moments were exclusively yours, and no one beyond your loved ones and yourselves needed to know about them.

"What's that about, Seb?"

You were too surprised, feeling a wave of emotions invading you. 

"The thing with Rose, or the kiss?" he asked innocently.

"Both," you replied shortly, then corrected yourself. "Sorry, it's just that girl made me feel like..."

You couldn’t continue. You put your hands over your face, but Seb pulled them away. There was no need for you to hide from him: he knew how you felt, and all he wanted in those moments was calming you and making you aware that there was no need for you to feel ashamed about anything.

"I only want you, Y/N," he brought you even closer and started touching your belly again, but now with more discretion. "In this, and a thousand more universes, and beyond life, whatever it is, and no matter what happens, I will always love only you. Just you, Y/N."

"Do you really love me? Even though I'm fat and ugly like I am now?" you wanted to know, doubting yourself as you focused on looking at your body up and down.

He chuckled softly at your comment. You weren’t not fat: your belly was just a slightly bigger than usual despite being in the first trimester because of your natural anatomy. 

"You're neither fat nor ugly, darling, but it's normal to feel that way," he comforted you. "You're experiencing changes, so don't overthink, Y/N. You’re a superhero: you’re creating a whole baby in there"

"But I just... I feel like a bomb of emotions. I feel so... so stupid and contradicting myself all the time..."

"It's the hormones," he interrupted you. "Don't press yourself for feeling that way. Do you remember when you were pregnant with Emily?"

Before he could say anything else, he made sure that, aside from Britta, you were alone in the hallway. Seeing that no one else was around, he kneeled down and brought his face to your belly. He placed both hands on either side and started kissing it, causing you laugh.

"Hello, my little girl. How are you doing? There's a long way to go, but mom and I are so excited to meet you, as well as your big sister, who really wants you to be born just to play with you."

You know the baby couldn’t hear you, but you felt so happy Seb was trying his best to make you a little happier.

"Stop, sunshine," you started saying, taking his arms to make him stand up. "Seb, seriously, get up. They're going to catch us!"

There was no one around, and he even double-checked to make sure. However, he decided to listen to you to avoid making you more nervous. At the same time, Britta nodded for you both to follow her. Seb took your hand and followed her steps.

"Seb..." you started speaking with some doubt.

"What is it, love?"

"Why did you say my little girl before?”

He turned hid head towards you. He saw you blushing and looking a little lost.

"Because I know it's going to be another girl," he confessed to you, leaving you a bit puzzled. "I don't know why, but it seems, and I truly believe, that making girls is our specialty."

"I think it's going to be a boy, but it makes sense: the other baby was also a girl..."

You forced yourself to stop talking. You didn’t usually talk about the miscarriage you had about two years ago, at sixteen weeks pregnant, and although you had made great progress after nearly making an irreversible mistake, it still hurted.

They say you learn from mistakes, but if you had seen the clear signs of the person who ruined your lives and had taken measures much earlier, things would have been very different.

"How about we make a bet?" he commented, trying to change the subject while now wrapping his arm around your waist. "If it's a boy, I'll take you on vacation wherever you want."

"And if it's a girl, like you say?" you wanted to know.

"Then I'll take you to dinner at your favourite restaurant. The one you always want me to take you whenever we go visit your family."

You looked at him strangely, knowing perfectly well that what he said wasn’t really a bet; in fact, it's anything but a bet. Adding to that, his voice sounded so calm that it might have surprised you with his passivity.

Britta and Antti look at you both as Seb helped you to enter the car, as if they wanted to know what you were talking about. You look that he shook his head at them and immediately started laughing.

"And what are you laughing at now, Sebastian?" you snapped at him again as he sat next to Britta. "Are you trying to mess with me, or what?"

"What's wrong with her? Is she okay?"

The whispers from his training coach, who clearly wanted toknow what was going on without appearing nosy, made him laugh even more. He didn’t even answer him and directly looked at you:

"Start thinking if you want to go to Cadiz or Mallorca, and if you prefer a McDonald's burger with pickles and ice cream with ketchup and fries or your aunt's wiener schnitzel."

Your eyes lighted up with excitement. You knew that he was making you decide, but in the end he’ll do all of that, and more, for you. Seb was the best partner ever and took care of you amazingly, especially when you were pregnant or struggling with your mental health. 

"I hate that you know me so well, Seb," you ended up saying, taking some candies from Britta's hand. "But I'm sure you don't know what's on my mind right now."

Of course he did, he knew you too well. You were just being horny, and your face showed.

"Y/N, I really appreciate you all," Roeske began to say as she looked at both of you, "but please: stop acting like you know what in front of us. Can’t you contain yourselves for ten minutes and then do whatever you want when you’re alone in your hotel room? Really, I’ll take care of Emily and I'll even stay all night listening to loud music on my headphones so I don't have to hear you moan all the time. Agree? But please: behave, kids."

[interstellarrisa]

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Quotes to keep in mind 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

a/n: these are just things that i like to keep in mind whilst manifesting/shifting and is not something you must do! also if you recognize your or someone else's quote/saying, pls dm or comment so that i can give credits!!! (i'm sleepy so sorry for any mistakes or if things don't rlly make sense -o-)

# Nothing needs to be harder than it sounds

It's just as you read. You don't need to make it any harder by adding complicating methods or trying to reprogram your subconscious. Decide, imagine and persist is all there is. You can decide how you'll do the "imagine" part. You can affirm, visualize, script or listen to subliminal. Do whatever you want, it's you manifesting it but I don't really recommend adding in unnecessary things as things can get tangled up and make you feel like you're doing anything except "getting" your manifestation.

# Imagination is the true reality

You've probably heard this like a thousand times but if you just think about it, if imagination is the true reality then why try to get it in the physical one? Since I can just imagine it and have it there and eventually it'll materialize. Also why struggle with it inside your imagination? Just as when some people when they were younger used to have imaginary friends. Just because they didn't see their friends body in the physical reality or that others couldn't see them did not mean they never existed. They did, just in that child's imagination and that's what matters. Having it in your mind and believing in yourself. Affirming this helps me with feeling fulfilled internally.

# Observe don't absorb

I really like this one cause like this is how I usually manifest away bad circumstances. Even if the 3D is right up in my face and is unavoidable I'll keep a idgaf mindset and continue on not taking it in as final or that it can't be changed. Nothing's set in stone, not even reality. If you don't like it just change it. There's no need to take the bad things as final. Know who you are and do your thing! At nighttime sometimes when we fall asleep random thoughts will pop up and pass us by, do you pay attention to every single thought? Do you react to every single one of those or think more deeply about them? Just as we observe those thoughts passing us by we should also observe reality. As a movie we're watching on our TV and if we don't like it we just switch to another one. Not get up and start screaming about how it's bad and that it's not the one we want to watch. Just switch movie.

Thank you for reading, good luck with your manifesting/shifting and bye!!<3

art cred @ CHIARA63710634 @ mors_gn @ riiein (all on twt)

[luveline]

idk if this is interesting enough for a prompt, but stripper! reader (w/ either aaron or spencer, your choice :) ) where they get worried because they see her with large bruise on her side but really she just got it from a hard fall practicing a pole trick lol

ty for requesting! I thought it was more than interesting my love, 1.1k

cw past implied domestic/workplace violence

"Can I make a cup of tea or something?" 

Spencer lifts his chin before his gaze, hanging onto the line he's reading until he's finished somewhere manageable. Finally looking up, he says, "Sorry, what?" 

"Can I make some tea? Do you have anything like that? Or coffee?" you ask. 

He almost slips standing up. "I'll make you tea." 

"No, I can make it, you're reading. I just wanted to ask before I went rooting through your stuff." 

Spencer's smile is shiny, pretty, all manner of things. It says Don't be silly. "You don't have to ask, help yourself." He nudges you in your bad side. "Of course you can have tea. I'll make it." 

You wince at his contact but follow him into the kitchen without complaining. You're sick of your own narrative —yes, you're a stripper, yes, it's hard work, and you know these things but you're tired of having it be the constant identifier of your life. You really wish work stayed at work, but the half metre contusion spread up your ribs like a formidable stain won't go away. You want something warm to wash down a few painkillers and hopefully you'll fall asleep on his couch. Spencer doesn't make you go home when it gets late and you hate asking him if you can stay. Easier to knock out on his couch and have him throw a blanket over you. 

His mind must have drifted to the same place. "Did you wanna stay the night? It's getting kind of late." He opens the kitchen cabinet above the toaster oven for two mugs, and the cabinet below the sink for his stove top kettle. He peeks at you from over his shoulder when you fail to answer. "Or I can drive you home?" 

"I'll stay. Better chance of survival." 

He does that adorable nose-wrinkled frown. "I'm not a bad driver." 

"Do you have any of my cookies left?" 

You wouldn't usually ask, but you paid for them last time you came over, so you figure it's okay. 

"Sure, they're in the cabinet by the bread bin," he says, moving to the sink to fill the kettle with tap water. His face flicks between you and the task at hand. 

You open the cabinet above the bread bin, double doors creaking on their hinges. Your cookies are in a tupperware container on the very top shelf at the back. He'd probably tell you something about mould or weevils if you asked why they're up out of reach, but you're more focused on getting a sweet treat than anything. You'll ask later. You can listen to him talking until you fall asleep. 

"What is that?" 

"What's what?" you ask, though any further questioning is interrupted by your yelp, a cold hand touching your naked stomach as you set back down on your heels. 

"What happened?" Spencer asks, your shirt held by his pinky finger as his thumb moves over the bruise. It's like he's hoping it's make up to be rubbed away, and he's horrified when it stays undisturbed by his gentle touch. "Who did this? I swear, I'll–" 

"Your hands are cold," you interrupt, taking his hand in yours, peeling it off of your stomach. "And it's kind of tender, Spence." 

"What happened?" 

His tone leaves no room for jogging around. You're not reluctant to tell him for whatever reason he might assume… You and Spencer used to live very close to one another, and you'd see him at the local grocery store, a small place, without saying much. He'd smile at you. Occasionally say hi. Until one day your eye was swollen shut from the force of a cruel hand and he asked if there was anything he could do. So Spencer knows intimately how people have managed to hurt you, and he worries because it's his nature to worry. 

You'll have to tell him what happened, even if it's embarrassing, in order to wipe the concern off of his delicate features. He's angry and scared and sorry, and he has no reason to be any of those things. 

"I– okay, I wanted to practise this twist thing that Stassia showed me," you begin, meeting his eyes with bashful reproach, "you don't have to be so worried. I was practising, or trying to, but it gets cold in the private room and I was shivering and my hands were aching, so I thought I could put on my sweatpants and try again but, you know, you need the–" 

"Friction," he interrupts, looking down at your bruise with a rather ironic smile. "You fell off of the pole?" 

"Yes, and you don't have to sound so happy about it." 

"I'm not," he says, rubbing at the sore fat of your hip apologetically. "I'm glad it wasn't, you know, what I thought it was, but– I mean– how hard did you fall?" 

"I thought I broke my ribs." 

He laughs. It's as soft as his touch. "I bet you did…" 

"Any more touching and I'll think you want to tip me." 

Spencer laughs and winces simultaneously, dropping your shirt back into place and neatening the hem "Right, sorry." He steps back half a step before stepping forward again, his arms quick to wrap around you in a sweeping but brief hug. "Thanks for telling me." 

"Super sarcastic, Dr. Reid." 

He peels away from you to light the stove unsuccessfully. Your side is throbbing at being remembered, your head with embarrassment, and that cup of tea just isn't coming quick enough. The phantom of his fingerprints linger.

You follow Spencer to the stove and push your hip into his, pushing the stove top knob in with the sparker until it catches. 

"Don't make a joke about my hands." 

"I wasn't going to," he says earnestly. The back of his knuckles touch your elbow. "You could tell me the next time you do something like that. You should. I want to know if you have a bruise the size of a watermelon." 

"If I told you every time something was wrong with me we'd always be talking about what's wrong with me," you say, though you press your cheek to his shoulder appreciatively. 

"Good," he says simply. 

"Good," you repeat, surprised. 

You stay like that until the kettle whines, your cheek on his shoulder. Oddly, it's as though you've taken a weight off.

Spencer gives you the princess treatment for the rest of the night, as though helping him make dinner or washing the dishes will stop your bruise from healing. He even pops out to the store for a tube of arnica. It's, shamefully, one of the best days of your entire year, easily making the top ten, as most days with Spencer tend to do. 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How do I write mean insults that's in character for a character to say? I'm personally poor at coming up with insults that don't sound generic or would actually cut deep, being mean in general. I want to write a snarky character with a dry sense of humour when it calls for it but don't know how to go about it.

He's also recovering from a superiority and inferiority complex.

As the writer, you know your character best, and what insults would make sense for them to say (also considering the bigger context of the scene). So, I'll just provide you with a compilation of prompts and notes from different sources, and you can choose which ones are most appropriate to incorporate in your story.

Writing Notes: Insults & Dry Humor

A List of "Sophisticated" Insults

Craven - having or showing a complete lack of courage; very cowardly

Fatuous - silly or stupid; complacently or inanely foolish. From Latin infatuate, which once meant "to make foolish," but which now usually means "to inspire with foolish love or admiration."

Insipid - not interesting or exciting; dull or boring

Obstreperous - difficult to control and often noisy

Obtuse - stupid or unintelligent; not able to think clearly or to understand what is obvious or simple

Pusillanimous - weak and afraid of danger. It's been used by such notables as Ralph Waldo Emerson ("It is a pusillanimous desertion of our work to gaze after our neighbours"), and the disgraced Vice-President Spiro Agnew, who called journalists "pusillanimous pussyfooters."

Sanctimonious - pretending to be morally better than other people. It once meant "possessing sanctity; holy, sacred." The genuinely holy aspect faded, and William Shakespeare is credited with first using sanctimonious to mean "hypocritically pious or devout."

Twee - sweet or cute in a way that is silly or sentimental. Just as buddy is believed to be a baby talk alteration of "brother", twee is a baby talk alteration of "sweet". Although twee is still considered a chiefly British term, it's increasingly popular in American English.

Unctuous - revealing or marked by a smug, ingratiating, and false earnestness or spirituality. Unction can mean "anointment" or it can name something used to anoint, such as a soothing or lubricating oil. That idea of oiliness led to unctuous, which can describe the slickness of false sincerity.

Vacuous - having or showing a lack of intelligence or serious thought; lacking meaning, importance, or substance

The insult would also depend on which other character it is directed at. Here is a list of "funny" insults for adults from Reader's Digest:

My days of not taking you seriously have come to a middle.

You are the human equivalent of a participation trophy.

If you were a spice, you’d be flour.

You may have a sparsely attended funeral.

I smell something burning. Are you trying to think again?

You’re like a lighthouse in a desert: bright but not very useful.

Don’t worry—the first 30 years of childhood are always the hardest.

May your life be as pleasant as you are.

You’re as useless as the “ueue” in “queue.”

Your face is just fine. It’s your personality that’s the issue.

...and for your character's significant other:

I like you. People say I have no taste, but I like you.

You continue to meet my expectations.

I’ll never forget the first time we met. But I’ll keep trying.

If genius skips a generation, our kids will be brilliant.

We were happily married for a month. Too bad it’s our 10-year anniversary.

I admire the way you try so hard.

You’re entitled to your incorrect opinion.

Have you tried doing it the way I told you to the first time?

The best part of watching a show with you is when you fall asleep because then I can watch my show.

Don’t call me crazy—you’re the one who married me!

You can always alter these to better suit your character. You can read the full list here, which also includes some insults for kids, best friends, and family.

Tips for Better Humor Writing

Humor writing isn’t all about landing a good joke (except for when it is). In creative writing, the effect is usually a bit more nuanced. Here’s a few writing techniques to get you started:

Subvert expectations. Try to undermine the audience’s expectations or reform them with structural elements.

Save the best for last. Humor is often a release of tension, so the sentence builds that tension, and the pay-off—the punchline—happens most naturally at the end. This is also sometimes referred to as the “rule of three,” where two thoughts act as a build-up to the final humorous closer.

Use contrast. Are your characters in a terrifying situation? Add something light, like a man obsessing about his briefcase instead of the T-Rex looming behind him.

Use good wordplay. Sometimes words themselves are funny, and just as often, their placement in a sentence can make a difference. Some words are just funnier than others, so make a list of those that amuse you the most.

Take advantage of cliché. While clichés are something most writers try to avoid, it’s important to recognize them,so you can use them to your advantage. Humor relies in part on twisting a cliché—transforming or undermining it. You do this by setting up an expectation based on the cliché and then providing a surprise outcome. In humor writing, this process is called reforming.

Use humor as a counterbalance. If you just pile on one terrible thing after another, it starts to become ridiculous, and people won’t buy it. Using humor is a great way to achieve the proper balance between fantasy and real life. Remember, if a roller coaster only did twists and turns the whole time, it wouldn’t be as fun to ride.

Level of Intensity

There are people who shrug off an insult (“That’s just the way she is”) and people who commit murder over an insult (“I’m avenging my honor!”). Plus, of course, everything in between. Which is your character?

To be believable, consider the following:

Personality. How hard does your character take events in general? Does s/he get really excited over good fortune and really depressed over setbacks? Then we’ll find it believable that s/he gets really angry and reacts accordingly.

The second cause of an intense reaction is the nature of the specific fight that you’re creating on the page. Lily Owens lets most of her father’s insults go by (“the art of survival”). But when he starts in about her mother, the topic is too important to Lily to gloss over. Lily’s reaction is intense. She runs away. Another type of character might merely have seethed silently. Still another might have fought T. Ray more intensively, setting fire to the house with him inside.

Finally, the strength of fights is culturally determined. Where public or even private scenes are disapproved of (upper-class London, old-money Boston, “well-behaved” families), arguments may be muted, even when the subject matters a great deal. In other cultures, volatility is not frowned on, and people may feel free to scream at each other in public. In extreme cases, murder may even be considered a duty, as in avenging a sister’s sexual assault.

Where is your story taking place? Are your arguers in tune with local or family culture? Maybe not. You can create interesting effects by portraying the rebels against the local mores: the meek child born into a battling family, the furious feminist in polite 19th-century English society.

On Dry Humor

Dry humor - is all about the subtle irony of the facts being stated plainly; it is the contrast between sentiment and reality that makes the situation funny.

The technique is known for its simple, often matter-of-fact declarations that will make the audience laugh or be perplexed (humor is subjective, after all).

With dry humor, delivery and intention create a sort of comedic cognitive dissonance or contrast. Sometimes it is as simple as using a bit of sarcasm, but it can also be more than that.

Dry humor lives and dies on the back of doing less.

Less facial expressions, less props, less setup—less is often more when it comes to landing the joke. You aren’t using a big, dramatic setup or a grandiose vocabulary to make your point.

Essentially, these jokes are derived from saying the opposite of what is meant or delivering them in a way that purposefully counteracts the supposed meaning of what is being said.

Dry Humor in Writing

The function of dry humor has often been to highlight the absurd.

It is effectively executed in moments where satirization of the circumstances at play require little more than noting the facts aloud.

When writing this sort of humor, quick, cutting accuracy is key to making the jokes land.

Simplicity is king, and an honest statement of the facts will always lead the way to finding the funny.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Humour ⚜ Laughter & Humour

Hope this helps with your writing!

[veemeow]

⋆˚࿔ 18+ Love & Deepspace NSFW Headcanons 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ feel free to ask any questions or offer any input! this is purely for fun :) This is my first time writing something like this out so be kind pls lol

Xavier -> Zayne -> Rafayel -> Sylus

hc's written with fem!mc in mind, but the majority of points here can be read neutrally :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

Xavier

Xavier is extremely affectionate and clingy. Out of all the MLs, he is the most physical

Has the highest libido

Messy when doing the deed- will start out slow, gentle, but gets rougher or more intense

Can go several rounds, fall asleep, and then pick up where you left off lol

He's quite sensitive behind his ears.

Loves when you grasp and touch at his chest and abdomen when he's in you.

Is somewhat vocal- he'll start out quiet at first, with more breathes and grunting, but he'll softly moan and whimper as you continue.

LOVES when you're vocal, breathing and moaning in his ear

He's big on sensory stimulation! (See: no restraint memory)

Lots of heavy breathing and sounds bouncing on the walls lolol

His two favorite positions are missionary and having you on his lap. His hands grasp and squeeze your body, he buries himself in your neck, plants kisses on you wherever he can, and leaves very little distance between you two

Xavier is 1000% a munch. If he's not inside you, he wants to be devouring you.

Prefers hand jobs over blowjobs. I don't think he'd care much for blowjobs, but he would accept and enjoy it if you gave him one. He just prefers [previous bullet point]

Loves when you squeeze your thighs around his face, press his face between your legs, and tug on his hair while he eats you out.

He gazes at you constantly; watching your reactions

He likes to nibble and nip at your skin, especially around your neck and collarbone- he'll leave hickeys in a few spots; your collarbone, the space on your neck below your ear, and the nape of your neck, the dip of your shoulder ; areas with visibility. He'll say he didn't mean to like a liar

He likes to nibble and kiss at sensitive areas where you might be a little ticklish, to make you smile. If you do the same though, he'll smile but you'll be riling him up to keep going or want more

"Please?" ; "Tell me you love me" ; "I'm yours" ; "I love you" (over and over and over) ; "You're mine" [jealous/possessive] ; "Does that feel good?" ; "You taste/feel so good"

Loves when you hold his head, cup his face, etc!

He likes to cum on your stomach.. at times he'll place himself between your thighs, using them or his hand to get off and spill onto you.

He's a huge cuddler, and when you fall asleep he's happy to spoon or be spooned. But it's hard to leave his grasp.

He's in heaven when you just lay your entire body weight on him

He's not much for PDA, but he tends to maintain close proximity to you, and will lay his head on you. Will lock arms or hold hands occasionally, but I see his affection being more light in public, unless other people aren't around.

Zayne

Has the lowest libido.

He's likes to service you, but will switch so you can take the lead.

He enjoys servicing you, but he likes (and prefers) when you initiate intimacy with him.

You have had him tie your hands above your head or behind you while he explores your body- he particularly likes gently complimenting you as he kisses you softly. Besides this, your intimate life is actually very vanilla and soft

"Every part of you is beautiful" ; "You don't know what you do to me" ; "Does that feel good?" ; "This part here, and this part here... [as he trails is hands and fingers down your chest, stomach, and so on.. Planting kisses as he goes]"

Plays with your nipples the most, using lots of tongue stimulation

He's not really one for hickeys or leaving marks behind

He enjoys having you take the lead- when you straddle him, kiss his neck and chest, and tease him about if it feels good or if he wants more.

He's the most sensitive physically! His chest and stomach are particularly sensitive, and ofc especially his Peenus lol. I don’t think he’s ticklish he’s just touch starved and very reactive (in his own way)

He's not very vocal, and instead breathes heavily and grunts a lot- but you can manage a moan out of him when giving him oral.

He's the most gentle out of all the MLs, he never handles you roughly and prefers the same from you. Your sexual relationship is best described as gentle.

He's not big on PDA, but when you two are alone together, he enjoys having you casually on him- on his lap, resting your legs on him, his head on your lap, etc. He finds comfort in the simple, but secure forms of affection that you two reserve for each other.

He views sex as a very intimate and personal act, and prefers to do it intentionally.

Rafayel

His libido is ??? He alternates between periods where he can go without sex / not care much for it, and becomes a sex machine.

Out of all the MLs, he is the most vocal in bed. He's not very good at hiding his reactions anyway, he gets shy and embarrassed.

He loves being teased. He's quite sensitive overall, especially around his ears and between his thighs. If you caress or fondle any part of his body, he's quick to blush. His chest is also v sensitive

He's not particularly dominant or submissive. I think he can be quite forward and take the lead, but he just as well is willing to let you take initiative as well.

Rafayel is quite the romantic- he'll go out of his way to set the mood, set up candles and music, and even buy you lingerie.

He loves lingerie and having you straddle and tease him. Grinding on his hips and fiddling with his shirt until the buttons are undone, or sliding your hands beneath it. All the while, his hands grasp your thighs

He likes when you leave hickeys on his neck and chest.

Enjoys blowjobs and handjobs. If you edge him, he'll say you're bullying him.

Rafayel likes having you on top of him the most; on his lap as you grind on him or in cowgirl position. He'll play with your g-spot as you ride him.

Wants you to look at him while doing the deed, but he has a tendency of looking away himself since he flushes easily. He loves looking into your eyes though during and after.

He likes to kiss your face the most, and even gentle kisses with him feel passionate.

He enjoys bathing with you! Not necessarily as a sexual thing, but as a form of intimacy and comfort. It makes him feel secure and closer to you.

He's the type where you can laugh together while being intimate. You can joke and tease each other and not lose momentum!

"Hold me" ; "Please [xmultiple]" ; 'Kiss me" ; "You're everything to me" ; "You won't be able to forget me" ; "Please don't look away"

Sylus

His libido is also ???

He's not one to go out of his way to be physically affectionate with you normally, but he enjoys (and wants) you to cling onto him.

He's very dominating and loves to tease.

Sylus can go several rounds just to change positions or service a different part of you. He's a service top all around imo.

Does lots of nipple play and loves seeing you squirm with his fingers in you

He likes to cum inside you or between your thighs.

If you gives him a blowjob or handjob, he easily begins to flush. he'll gently caress your head as you go at it.

He likes when you manhandle him a bit- holding his chin in your hand, caressing his lips, pushing his chest or hands down, things of that nature

Sylus is a biter. He particularly likes biting the side of your neck, shoulder, and between your thighs. He'll also leave hickeys on your chest and between your thighs as he nips at the skin.

He likes when you bite back- if he has you on this lap with his member inside you, he relishes the sting of you biting down on his shoulder when cumming.

He's the type to whisper sweet nothings to you, caress your head, and cup your face as he fingers or penetrates you.

He can be quite gentle when he kisses you- his kisses almost feel chaste. He'll trail kisses around your face, to your jaw, neck, and so on.

His stronger kisses are passionate- he'll nip at your lips, hold your jaw, and eventually stick his tongue in.

He enjoys having you sitting up on his lap, so he can see your face and hold onto you. He's 1000% the type to make you face him so he can see your reactions.

He also likes hitting it from the back and squeezing your thighs.

Like Zayne, he's not very vocal. Sylus just breathes and grunts lo but you can manage do get a light groan out of him if you edge him enough.

He will tease you about being too loud, telling you to keep it down- all the while pleasuring you to entice stronger reactions.

Sylus engages in sex intentionally. He doesn't always go all in, but if you're feeling horny, he's happy to entertain you with his mouth or fingers. He doesn't feel compelled to "receive" every time if he's not feeling up to it.

He'd be open to light BDSM, but I'm personally not too familiar or into it- I think he'd be open to try restraints or things of that nature, but I personally don't see him doing anything that could be potentially harmful. He wouldn't really be the type to degrade you either.

I'm thinking a gun would only be involved in the scenario where he would watch you pleasure yourself with a gun similar to that scene in Beef. iykyk lol

He'd totally use ice to stimulate you. He'd let it melt on you and rub it around just to hear your breath hitch.

He's a master of aftercare. He can go several rounds since his stamina is high, but recognizing that you're a normal person he's comfortable adapting to your limits.

He loves when you lay on his chest and rest your head on his heart. He'll often comb his fingers through your hair or simply rub your back and shoulders.

On the flipside, he'll 'allow' you to lull him to sleep if you do the same.

I imagine Sylus as quite the gentle lover overall, taking care to give you a passionate experience, and making you feel cared for.

"Good girl" ; "You're doing so well" ; "You like that?" ; "You feel so good" ; "I want you, I need you" ; "Tell me what you want" ; "Don't look away.." ; "I'm all yours / Only yours" ; "Relax, you can handle it"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

I did my best to remain true to the characters overall! I wonder if it's obvious Xavier is my favorite ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ I didn't want to emphasize a lot of BDSM/kink-play with Sylus, b/c even though his character is definitely freakayy compared to the rest, I'm just not interested in delving into it. Zayne's character is the hardest for me to write for since he's very reserved so I did my best ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ And Rafayel I am still getting to know.

[woncon]

hi i read your stories and you're awesome!! can i please request a san and wooyoung scenario where they're making coffee for you in the morning?

Hi dear Anon! 🥰

Thank you for the kind words & the request. I'd a fun time writing it. I hope you'll like it too! 💗💗

➳ a cup of care

➶ poly!woosan x gn!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ San forgot to take the coffee machine to the mechanic. But instead of admitting it, he wants to become a home barista, making coffee for you every morning until he can actually take the machine to the repairman.

When Wooyoung finds out what he's up to, he won't tell you. He decides to help to keep San's secret and make nice coffee so you won't tell the difference.

Keeping it from you may seem easy.

It's not.

➴ genre: fluff, light angst, estabilished relationship, polyamory

: ̗̀➛ warnings: half-naked san, who is also a baby

⌨ :: 2.3K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ kisses and hugs for @honeytwo!!

➳ ateez masterlist | main masterlist

At 5:30 on a Monday morning, Wooyoung strode out into the kitchen. He was looking for San to drag him back to bed. You both slept easier and deeper when the boy was there. You clung to him eagerly, and he usually couldn't even slip away without you being alarmed that he was gently shaking you off him.

Wooyoung expected San to come for a glass of water. That was not the case. The broad-shouldered boy in his pyjamas leaned against the kitchen counter and watched a video in contemplation. At his fingertips were a colander, a bag of what looked like cat food, mugs and the kitchen scale.

Wooyoung curiously ventured closer. The parquet floor creaked under his socked feet.

San turned around like the hyperventilating protagonist of a horror film.

“Hi!” He paused the video so quickly that his phone fell on its face.

“Hi…” Wooyoung took a closer look at the prepared equipment. He picked up the filter and poked the bag. There was something hard inside. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of workout stuff? Or poison?”

“Poison?” San laughed awkwardly and shook his head as if he'd been caught.

“Are you... okay?”

“Of course. I just, uh, wanted to surprise you. Could you go back to bed and keep it a surprise?” San patted Wooyoung's waist. “I promise I'll be ready quickly.”

Wooyoung took pity on him. It was like San to wake up at sunrise to surprise the two people he loved the most. He didn't want to bother him any longer. He pressed a consenting kiss to San's cheek and would have turned back to try to fall back asleep in your embrance, but noticed the pattern at the bottom of the bag.

It was minimalist and almost blended into the caramel colour of the bag, but it was there nonetheless. Three coffee beans. It wasn't cat food, then.

Wooyoung blinked. He walked around San then held the bag in front of his face, and the heavy scent emanating from it immediately hit him in the nose. He pointed incredulously at San, whose neck was flushed.

“You forgot!” he said in disbelief.

“I have not!”

The other walked over to the coffee machine, plugged it in and tried to turn it on. It did the same thing it had been doing for the last few days: all the buttons flickered red and the machine whined, as if it would die at any moment and couldn't make the slightest coffee.

“Oh, but you forgot.” Wooyoung patted the poor steam and turned off the power. “Y/n specifically asked you to do that, remember? They even made your breakfast so you'd write down in your diary the appointment they'd booked with the plumber. And you forgot.”

San pouted in surrender. “Why are you mocking me now?”

“I'm just having a little fun.” Wooyoung grinned. “I'm usually the bad boyfriend here.”

“You're not a bad boyfriend.”

“But I forget more often than you, pearl of men.” Wooyoung looked through the assorted tools again. “So?”

“So what?”

“How can I help you?”

“You want to help?” San was surprised. “I thought you were going to tell our baby.”

“‘Course not. I don't want them to be sad. I'll help make sure they get their coffee and don't notice the difference until the machine is fixed.”

“See, Woo?” San's all brightened up. He stroked Wooyoung's face. “You're not a bad boyfriend.”

“Still, I'll help you cover up your forgetfulness.”

“Because you're my great boyfriend.” San pulled him close and showered him with kisses.

Wooyoung carefully pushed him away. It wouldn't have ended well if the coffee project hadn't progressed, because they were kissing and slowly forgetting about everything but each other.

“So where do we start?”

San set up his phone, tilted it at the microwave again, and they both dug into the information presented to them on how to make quality, home-brewed coffee.

****

Only five days. That's how long they had to wait before San could actually take the coffee machine to the mechanic. The earliest the man could meet San was Saturday afternoon. In the meantime, the two boys not only had to make homemade coffee by grinding and filtering, but also to make the coffee taste very similar to the one the machine made. Wooyoung took on the role of the pre-taster.

You liked the coffee on Monday. Although you noted that the program seemed to be quieter this time, you didn't find the taste strange. San laughed and wiped a spot of coffee off the edge of your mouth.

"I think you just slept too deeply. In the kitchen it was as loud and lively as ever. The mechanic did a good job."

As you took your next sip, he glanced warily at Woooyung.

The next day, Wooyoung played coffee machine sounds from his phone while San ground coffee beans. You drank again, this time making no comment on the missing mechanical sounds.

On the third day, Wednesday, you resented that neither of them were with you anymore. You got up early and called them.

“Shit! They're coming!” San tried to cover up his intimate parts like a caught-in-act lover: the filter, the cups, and of course the bag of coffee beans he hid in various places around the apartment as if they were a dangerous piece of his tainted past - even though he had no tainted past.

“Go, distract them!” Wooyoung took up the grind that day. He didn't want to stop, especially since his skin had soaked up the smell of coffee beans that his sense of smell was completely dulled. Of course, you would have smelled it. 

Wooyoung didn't want questions about why he smelled thick and heavy like fresh coffee beans.

"Okay," San nodded. “Okay.”

Then he took off his pyjama top. Wooyoung's eyes widened. He didn't mean it that way, he would have added, but San and his refreshing body were gone.

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” his question filtered out from the living room. “I'd be happy to wash your back.”

Of course, you couldn't say no to that.

San had handled the emergency well enough, Wooyoung admitted. He had meanwhile finished his fresh coffee peacefully and even toyed with the idea of opening a coffee shop for a moment. He served it with a wide smile, and bathed contentedly in the showery scent of your neck and the melody of your appreciative humming, as if you knew he made it for you, not the coffee machine.

Everything went smoothly on Thursday, they even finished faster than before. They were really practiced and coordinated. They had time to lie back down next to you and gently caress you into wakefulness.

Wooyoung enjoyed the week, and even if the thought of failing at some point occurred to him, he dismissed the idea. They were a good team, and so far they'd done a great job, making delicious coffees and putting big smiles on your face with their hot brews. If you'd mentioned the coffee smell, he'd have bought a coffee shower gel to explain it. He and San ran through many scenarios to prepare for possible danger. Two more days was not the end of the world.

Although, you seemed to want to bring the world to an end. You also wanted to have a cup of coffee on Friday afternoon.

“Since the coffee machine got fixed, the coffee tastes better. And I'm busy, I need to recharge,” you said.

Your boyfriends couldn't let you touch the machine. The minute you turn it on, they're busted, even though they've been so good at hiding San's screw-up. They had another quick look.

“How about we go to that coffee shop you always daydreams about?” Wooyoung suggested.

“Really?” You froze, a faint frown of thought appearing on your face. “But it's an expensive place.”

"We want to make you happy," San nodded. “It's worth every penny.”

And of course they would have gone to great lengths to make sure you didn't even look at the coffee machine for a few more days.

“Well, okay," you smiled in agreement.

Friday's panic situation had been well averted. Wooyoung now really thought they were on the straight and narrow, only one brewed coffee away from success. 

Well, Wooyoung hadn't factored San's Saturday morning breakdown into his immediate future.

As usual, they divided the duties. San ground the coffee beans, and Wooyoung set the Bluetooth speaker at just the right angle to make sure you could hear the coffee machine sounds playing and soothe you half asleep.

“Woo…”

Wooyoung looked up. It was rare to see San like that. He was a strong mountain, straight and taut. But now he was hunched over the counter, looking powerless. His eyes radiated uncertainty.

“I think I am the bad boyfriend.”

“What?” Wooyoung tried to process the information as quickly as possible. “You? You're literally boyfriend material. If you were single, everyone would be fighting for you. Even though you're ours, Y/n and I have to be careful not to let them take you away from us.” Wooyoung stroked the back of San’s hand. “You're not a bad friend, Sanie. You're absolutely not.”

“I've been lying to Y/n for almost a week.”

“Because you don't want them to drink powdered coffee. You take care of them. You ordered quality coffee from some classy guy.” Wooyoung took over the grinder from him. “And you can tell them the truth in the afternoon, if you want. I don't think they'll be angry, they'll probably just laugh at us.”

San still pouted ruefully, but he no longer hunched forward so tragically.

“Go and cuddle them. I'll finish this.”

“Can you?”

“Of course I can.” Wooyoung pulled the bag of coffee beans in front of him and smiled encouragingly at the other. “You know, thanks to you, I became a coffee master.”

Before Wooyoung could concentrate on making your morning coffee, San pulled him close and planted a long, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.”

“It is the least I can do. Now go. And don't let our baby out of bed!”

****

“Careful, careful," Wooyoung murmured as he handed you the mug. “It's hot. Very hot. Like your skin... hmm… let me lie back a bit.”

Wooyoung stretched out beside you, satisfied, once the coffee was safely in the palm of your hand. He rested his head against your waist and was about to look for a blanket that would hopefully preserve some body heat, but instead he got San himself as a blanket. He didn't complain.

“Gosh, the kitchen stone is so cold,” he whimpered.

“Well,” one of your hands went into his hair and gently massaged his scalp. “Next time, put on another layer of socks. Or don't go out. I can make my own coffee.”

“I wanted to be nice to you so you wouldn't leave me for this sexy guy behind me.”

While you giggled, San hugged Wooyoung even tighter, and the boy was reminded of how strong San is. And how much he loves it when he has time to spend the morning with the two of you.

“Oh, that can't happen. What would we do without you?” You stroked his cheek and San hummed in agreement.

What's for sure, at this point Wooyoung didn't feel like a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was proud that he could be here, that you both loved him.

“And thanks for the whipped cream, too, Woo.”

“You're welcome. I made it with love. I would have also put cinnamon on it, but I couldn't find any.”

"You must not have seen it from the bag of coffee beans," you said.

San's body tensed around Wooyoung. Wooyoung himself twitched.

“What?”

“The coffee bean bag. The one you hid as if it were a drug. A few days ago, it just covered up the cinnamon.”

San let Wooyoung go and sat up. He just blinked and waited for you to say something else. You didn't. You drank your coffee peacefully, your face smeared with whipped cream without a spoon to use.

“Don't look at me like that. I wasn't complaining about not liking it. In fact, you made it delicious.”

“You knew?” San was stunned. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“Because the coffee is delicious,” you drank some more. “And you've been very enthusiastic all week. I think you guys had fun too. Or am I wrong?”

“When did you find out?” Wooyoung asked, pulling his knees to his chest.

You frowned thoughtfully.

“I think it was Wednesday. Sannie got a call from the 'coffee guy'. I thought it was about the mechanic, so I picked it up while Sannie was getting dressed. The guy asked if I was happy with the merchandise and if I wanted to order another package. When I asked if he was talking about capsules, he hung up. I may or may not offended him.”

San crawled closer to you on the mattress. He took your face in the palm of his hand and kissed the whipped cream off. “I’m sorry.”

“I'm not mad. After all, you showed me that my boyfriends could make better coffee than my machine.” You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "However, I don't want you to spend every day sculpting in the kitchen to make me happy. I'd rather have you here with me and the coffee machine do my coffee.”

“That's what we want.” Wooyoung nodded, then leaned his head on your shoulder. He was very happy that you were not angry with them. Though he expected nothing less from your kind, loving heart. “And the coffee machine could be working tomorrow... If San didn't forget again.”

“Hey! This can't happen, I swear! I've been dreaming about this for two days. Even if I had amnesia, I couldn't forget it.”

“I believe you, big boy. I hope you haven't forgotten either that you promised me marathon hugs today.”

“Finish your coffee and you won't get away.” San nodded towards you, then looked at Wooyoung. He winked and smiled mischievously. “None of you will get away.”

For the record, Wooyung didn't intend to. It's well known that sometimes even the lovestruck coffee maker needs a break.

[shysuccubusstuff]

husband! Zayne:

Content: SFW + NSFW hc, non proof-reading; established relationship + husband! zayne + consensual + praise kink; soft! dom into mean! dom Zayne (then back to soft! dom) : brat taming + degradation kink + praise kink + overstimulation + aftercare.

Note: So, I entered the game today and Zayne blew up my phone, one of the texts was about kaomojis and he said something about it being childish, even if he did it afterwards... I NEED TO MAKE HIM A DADDDD so freaking bad!! I'm pretty sure I already did something like this, but I just can't help it when I see such husband material... BTW Tomorrow is my birthday!! Time goes so fast :00 I hope everyone is able to rest during the holidays!!

♡ thinking about husband! zayne...

Hubby! Zayne. who proposed during one of your many outings, the sun was setting and you were sharing those old fashion snacks, laughing about how he had gotten the smaller side of the ice cream. You were still making fun of him when he suddenly got on one knee, his face completely red as he tried his best to get his severely prepared and rehearsed speech ready.

Hubby! Zayne, who makes sure to celebrate each single month , all the people in the hospital are completely aware of when that time comes, as they are able to see Zayne's uncontrolable smile during the whole week before the date. He makes sure to buy a beautiful bouquet for you, only using your favourite flowers and colours, that's the least he would do for you though. When your aniversary comes, better get ready for Zayne's constant pampering, always reserving some special place where the two of you can go together and spend some time alone, just him and you.

Hubby! Zayne, who makes sure to pay close attention to every single word you say, always answering to your rantings: "Oh, really? How could she do that to his long time fwb? Keep telling me, love."

Hubby! Zayne who prepares dinner the days that he gets home sooner than you, the table set and ready by the time you arrive home, sometimes even lighting up a few candles to give it a more romantic ambience.

Hubby! Zayne who sometimes appear without warning, he is resting his back against his car. As soon as he sees you getting out of your work, he quickly gets up, his right hand holding a plasting bag. "Just remembered you wante to go to that new restaurant, since I had time, I went and bought some take-out, do you want to go home and eat it?"

Hubby! Zayne who gets flusthered as soon as you start to think about having kids with him. He had been thinking about it for a long time, trying his best not to say it in case you felt unsure about it.

Hubby! Zayne who goes crazy just from the thought of filling your precious cunt with his essence, forcing himself not to get carried away as he keeps hitting the tip of his cock against your cervix, your insides clamping against his length making his mind foggy. What if he simply shoved you into the bed as he took away that damn condom, filling you to the brim as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

Hubby! Zayne who loves cuddling with you every single night, his sligthly cooler body quickly warming him up, maybe a bit too much, as you suddenly start to feel something poking you from behind.

Hubby! Zayne, who tries to act as if nothing is happening, slowly moving away as soon as he believes you are asleep, his hand tracing down his own body as he tries to reduce his erection as fast as possible just so he can keep embracing your body... Or so he thought.

"Zayne?" Zayne stops himself, quickly hiding it under his pants.

"...Yes, love?" You turn around, soon noticing how he had gotten away from you.

"Sure you don't need some help down there?" Zayne's face flushes, his eyes widening as he looked at you.

"...You noticed?"

"I mean, it's not exactly easy to ignore something stiff poking against my ass while trying to fall asleep, you know?" Zayne stopped your words, his hand covering your mouth as he tried to stop you from saying more embarrasing things.

"I, I just didn't want to bother you, I know you work so hard everyday so you must rest, this can wait until we have more time, there's no need to--" Zayne's words were stopped as you got on top of him with your hands massaging his chest while you started a deep kiss. "Love... we shouldn't, we have to wake up early tomorrow." Once again, you ignored poor Zayne's words, your hands quickly getting rid of his shirt, throwing it to the ground, your lips starting to make a small trail of kisses all over his neck to his chest. "You're always so..." Zayne's words were cut off, a deep breath leaving his lips before he was able to end his sentence. "...naughty." You smiled, almost a bit too happy to see him struggling under you, sadly, this soon reached its end, with Zayne swiftly changing positions, having you under his bigger frame. "Not so fun now, am I right, love? It seems I have been pampering a bit too much, now you even think that you can do whatever you want and have no consequences since I love you so much... But even brats like you should know when to behave." Zayne started to kiss you, his soft lips leaving small kisses all over you as his hands started to run under your clothes, his cold touch making your whole body shiver. "Not so funny now, uh?" With your whole body now completely exposed to Zayne it was almost impossible to stop him from finding your sweet spots. Zayne started to massage your breasts, his fingertips playing with your nipples while he sometimes gave them small licks. "Oh, they are perking up, seems I am not the only one who is weak to... someone's touch."

"You're talking too much, just-- Fuck..." Once again, Zayne's touch stopped you mid-sentence, his hands suddenly lifting your lower half and putting your legs over his shoulders, Zayne now kissing and leaving small licks all over that place, still not going for it, just teasing it. "Zayne, just, uh... please."

"Please what, love? I can't read your mind, I need you to say it to me." You clenched your fists as Zayne kept teasing you by kissing your inner thighs.

"...Please. Just... just make me feel good, I need you." That was everything Zayne needed, his mouth already moving towards your cunt, his lips kissing it and giving it a few licks before he actually started to play with your poor clit, his tongue making your whole body quiver as he started to use one of his fingers to play with your clit as he used his tongue to slowly enter you. After a few minutes, he finally introduced one of his digits, entering another as he considered you were finally ready for it. "Zayne... I need you now-- Give it to me."

"Don't rush, my love. We have all the night left." With that set in mind, Zayne ignored your pleas, having you lay with your legs wide open as he kept teasing you, stopping just before you were finally able to cum, making your mind start to feel fuzzy as he kept playing with your clit, his fingers still prepping your poor cunt.

By the time Zayne finally let your legs go, your whole body was trembling, your eyes tearing up as the overstimulation had gotten far too much, your hands fisting the sheets as you tried to avoid being heard by your neighbours. "Zayne, Zayne, please!... Just, can't think, I need you." Zayne chuckled at your pouty face, kissing your lips before he lifted you from the bed, sitting on the bed and finally letting his cock make his way inside your overwhelmed cunt, bottoming out with a deep groan.

"...You feel so nice, love." You rested your hands on his chest, trying your best to use your legs to try and lift your lower half, barely being able to take out a bit of his lenght. "Wait dear, let me help my sweet girl." As soon as he said that, Zayne's hands were already on your hips, carefully lifting you up before entering your cunt once more, kissing you as he tried to avoid your slutty moans to be heard by someone that wasn't him. Annoyed by his teasing, you tried to get Zayne to move faster, trying your best to release his grip on you, suddenly forcing you to slam yourself against him, a high-pitched whimper resonating in the bedroom you both shared. " It seems I haven't been able to put you in your place still, I suppose you really want to be treated like a brat, get fucked against the mattress while you cream all over my dick, so be it. It was foolish of me to think you would want to get pregnant while making love, you just love getting your brains fucked out by me, right?" Zayne quickly pushed you again, forcing you to face the bed as he started to slam his hips against your ass, the lewd sound reverberating in the room while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "Speak, you always love running your mouth, why not answer me now?" Your nails digged on the sheets, Zayne pulling you by your hair without much force, just letting you breath so you could answer him.

" Sowwy--- I'm sorry! Sorry for being a brat, I love you, I love you Zayne... I love getting my brain scattered by your cock! Pleasee~... Just cum inside, don't pull out, please please Zayne!" Zayne once again teased you, turning you around just to see the face he loved so much, ashamed, you hid your face with your hands, trying your best to keep quiet as Zayne kept punishing you with his thrusts, your cunt gushing out each time he hit that special spot inside of you.

"That's my good girl, keep taking me so good, dear. You're doing such a good job, let me get you all nice and round, you will make such a good mommy... Keep cumming for me love, no need to think about anything else." So you did, your cunt pulsating as your mind was finally able to begin to clear up, Zayne's hands caressing your soft face while he kissed your wet cheeks. "You did so well, love. Promise I will pamper you the whole week, how about having breakfast in bed? We can then have dinner together in that new restaurant you keep seeing, yeah? Let me take care of everything." Nodding, you dooze off, Zayne's words resonating in your ears while he kept kissing your face.

[buntanteen]

svt fic recs list <3 - yjh, hjs & lee chan - sfw ver.

reader insert fics!! though, lots of these are ot13 writings, i am specifically recommending the jeonghan, joshua and dino sections!

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

note: i haven't made a fic rec list since i was a teen lol. i'm gonna try do 13 recs per list (cuz that's how many members are in seventeen :3) i've added my mini thoughts and i'm going to add lil song recs too!! these lists are partially for me to look back on too :d

✩ yoon jeonghan ✩

❥ jeonghan boyfriends habits - @odxrilove

*sobs in cute lil domestic actions* shut up i LOVE having my hair played with and attention on me and physical touch that isn't necessarily affection and yapping and being playful ahhh

❥ bf!jeonghan headcanons - @etherealyoungk

this is exactllyyyy the kind of s/o i want raaaaaaaaaaaa. teasing, playful, sweetheart, pouty, mature and a listener. this made me smile soooo much

✩ hong joshua ✩

❥ joshua boyfriend habits - @odxrilove

*cries in physical touch and acts of service* mORE hair touching??? are you trying to speak to my heart😭 shua really said "my handbag is your waist" (just one day by bts reference) with that last one*

❥ bf!joshua scenarios - @etherealyoungk

*punches wall in chef shua making reader breakfast* he's just such a sweetieeee. the intentional quality time is something i can sooo see him doing

✩ lee chan/dino ✩

❥ dino boyfriend habits - @odxrilove

*cries in physical touch and acts of service pt.2* as a shy person, i love when my friends order for me (or when there's a qr code lol) i think i'd pass out if someone pulled me by the loop of my jeans kjfdbdfb

✩ ot13 works (yjh, hjs & lee chan sections) ✩

❥ seventeen as boyfriends - @catboyieejeno

super cute, lengthy and detailed for all members! i was swooning and giggling over each of them hehe~

jeonghan's bits of physical affection coupled with noise effects highkey make my heart soar idk whyyy

shua being a gentleman but bro i'll be one right back at you >:)) skincare nights??? as a skincare girly i would loveeee that ahhh

hAND HOLDING WITH CHANNIE GRRR. i love when people listen to me yap (my friend listened to me yap about svt today haha). i agree with that last bit about chan giving confidence and reassurance. he already does that for me as a fan, so it would be amplified by 990211x~

❥ seventeen when you reject their kiss (as a prank) - @emocheol

hannie was such a little shit. of cOURSE he'd be dramatic and do a 180 on the situation so reader is being pranked

shua's reaction was so hot. it was a mature approach to the situation and my brain started barking kjgbkfa

chan's killed me. this poor kid is trying his best jgfdkb

additionally, hoshi and jihoon's made me tear up a bit :,) they're so precious to me

❥ sharing the bed with seventeen - @emocheol

jeonghan. let. me. spoon. you >:((( (i just wanna cuddle him)

cackled at the absurdity of joshua's with full acknowledgement that him reading to me would make me fall asleep lmao

oh no...dino...we'd both kick each other off the bed

❥ matchy-matchy with seventeen - @lovingseventeen

wanna play with jeonghan's hair so baddd. i used to do my and my friend's hair so much as a kid

i don't really wear rings, BUT FOR SHUA I CAN TRY!! (kinda want a ring like svt does in honour of them?! idk tho)

chan and i are gonna pull up in comfy matching set fits yeahhhh

❥ you ask to leave lipstick stains on their face - @gi4hao

getting lipstick stains back from hannie?? fuck yeahhh

flirty shua *blushes and kicks blanket*

damn, dino sounds like he's in heavennnn (he's soooo down bad lmao)

❥ things they left with you before leaving for tour - @seuonji

jeonghan being thorough and specific and intentional with his shirt choices

joshie writing letters arghhhhh. as someone who loves to write letters to friends (via text or on physical cards) this really speaks to my heart

channie's is sooo fucking thoughtful and i freaking love snacks and quality time at a distance is difficult so i love this ahhh

❥ svt when they’re clingy - @gyuslcve

jeonghan's AHHH. how am i supposed to say no to himmm🥺🥺

shua...hE'S SO SOFTTTT HNGHHGHG. back hugs are so niceee ahhh

spooning? forehead kisses? hand holding?!!?! with dino?!?! yess pls :,)

❥ hyper/calm dynamics - @cxffecoupx

calm reader, calm jeonghan. low energy us just chillingg

all of the above reader & shua. fuck yeah. i tend to adapt my energy to the situation, so chaos can unleash whenever heh :3

hyper reader, calm chan. i will look at him with equal parts embarrassment and endearment haha

additionally: i would hype the shit out of hoshi. no one would never handle us grrrrr ఇ◝‿◜ఇ

mini message from me: thank you for reading!! stay cool or warm wherever you're at!! take care of yourselves and treat yourselves to something yummyyyy~ ς(.>‿<)

ames' song recs: serendipity by bts (jimin), heaven by rm, same dream same mind same night by seventeen (vocal unit), yes or no by jungkook & our summer by txt

taglist: no one yet, but if y'all would like to be on it, pls comment :))

[artsangell]

YUCK!

"Yuck, now you got me blushin'

Cheeks so red when the blood starts rushing

Yuck, that boy's so mushy

Sending me flowers, I'm just tryna get lucky"

(Loosely inspired by yuck, by Charli xcx)

Includes: Friends w benefits, smut(mdni), fluff, pining,idiots in love, hint of angst, slight Dom Art if you squint.

You're not exactly sure how it all even started. The routine you guys set up feels so natural, it's almost as if you guys were always meant be attatched to one another. To make the other person feel wanted and needed. Art is lying next to you right now, fast asleep with his blond curls mashed up against his pillow. You watch him for a bit, I mean it's so fucking hard not to, he's just so pretty. You're both naked. Though he's entirely stolen the cover from you in his sleep (not that you mind much). You watch his chest rise and fall for a few more moments before you decide to get up.

You get dressed and clean your face up a bit, when you return to the room Art’s has an arm over his eyes. He grumbles at the light surrounding the room, shifting for a moment before he removes his arm from his eyes. Pretty blue eyes watching you he says,

“ you sure you don't wanna stay the night? My bed has enough room. Promise.” It’s a struggle not to laugh at how groggy he sounds, it's also a struggle when you think about how you wish you could hear it every morning. the look he's giving you makes something inside you stir. It makes the idea of laying back in bed with him incredibly tempting.

“Yeah? I'm not sure about all that Art.” A laugh escapes you as you speak. “You have a twin. you barely even fit in your bed.” A chuckle that makes your chest ache leaves him, he sighs and looks at you like you're something special. like you're made of gold.

“You sure you don't want me to walk you back to your dorm? It's getting kinda late.” That puts a smile on your face, you lean forward to pat his cheek in mock affection. He melts into your touch, your hand stays there as you speak to him.

“I'm a big girl, but thanks. sleep tight Arthur.” A giggle, a high sound that makes you cringe leaves you at the look on his face.

An annoyed groan leaves him, “nevermind leave. You're evil.” The way he says it is unconvincing, it makes you feel fuzzy all over.

“Oh wow you weren't joking”

“Shut up.” you grumble.

Mostly annoyed, but a bit embarrassed.

You had invited Art over to your dorm so he could help you study, but it feels like all the information is going in one ear and out the other.

“Sorry, it's just you're like the smartest person I know. How am I of all people doing better than you.”

A frown etches on your face, college has been a bit hard on you. There's so much to do and rarely enough time, and when you do have time you just can't seem to focus. It feels like everyone knows how to manage everything, but you just can't seem to grasp how to even do slightly better than average. You know it's not true. You know college is tough at first for everyone and blah blah blah, But it's hard to feel like everyone goes through what you're going through, when you're adjusting to it worse than any of your friends are.

It feels as if Art can read your mind or something. You almost immediately see a crease between his brows, a look he gives you when he feels bad for you. When he wants to make it all better.You hate how it makes you chest ache. “How about we make this into a game?” His voice is soft in a way that makes your insides twist.

“A game?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion, trying to figure out what exactly he's up to.

“Yeah, like if you get this next question right-” at that he slides a hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb on the expanse of your upper thigh. “I’ll help you out. Would you be okay with that?” He looks into your eyes as he asks, you can't help but stare at the bit of brown he has in the left one. So pretty. You blink and you know you've been caught when you see a hint of a lopsided grin on his face.

“Yeah- yeah, I'd be okay with that.” you hate how shaky your voice is, it's not like you at all, but he just has a quality that brings it out of you.

“Good.”Art gives you a soft smile and lightly pats your thigh and it makes you want to scream.

“Ok. So what's the difference between descriptive and inferential statistics?” A frown appears on your face, you can't remember the answer.

“Um.. I don't know?” Art pinches your thigh at that, not hard enough to hurt but to correct you. It makes you let out a Soft gasp, you can't help but be a little turned on by it.(he doesn't need to know that.)

“That's not an answer. You know this come on, stop second guessing yourself. This is a really easy question you're overthinking.”

You take a breath in and try to think about what you've gone over , “descriptive gives a summary of the dataset and inferential is based on making predictions from a random sample.”

Art grins at you and shakes your shoulders playfully. “Good job! You got it right!” You can't help the laugh that escapes you, he grabs your face and plants kisses All over it. The attention only making you laugh more. “Knew. you. could. do. it.” Each word punctuated by a kiss, this time on your lips.

“Thought you were gonna reward me” it's basically a whine, you run a hand through his hair like it’ll get him to touch you faster, it will.

“Patience.” he laughs and slides to his knees beside you, clearly not being very patient himself. Art turns you in your swivel chair in his direction, he slowly glides his hands from your thighs to your hips. Quickly the blond before you glides your shorts and panties down. with the help of you lifting your hips for him. Slow kisses are pressed against your thighs, he's holding your upper thigh so you can stay still for him. Art makes sure to take extra time kissing the inside of your thighs, knowing it'll be torture for you. He peppers kisses there until you start to squirm. Finally he licks a stripe along your slit, he moans into you. Like he gets off on the taste alone.

“Taste so fucking good” the vibration of his words compels you to put your hand on top of his head, he immeaditly takes your hand off the top of his head to link his fingers with yours. A few more damn near torturous licks and you can't take it anymore. you need more so you tell him so, just like he taught you to.

“Art, please. Go faster.” You're out of breath, it's clear you can barely get those words out.

Art looks up at you and grins, pulling away from your cunt to do so. “Aww she does have manners, who would've thought.” It's like a switch flips when he touches you,he can't help but tease you a bit. Before you can rebuttal he dives back into you, sucking your clit with dedication to make you cum all over him. Its like he fucking craves it, well you can tell he does by the bulge in his jeans.

You cry out at the sensation. “Fuck- thank you, thank you, thank you.” Art squeezes your hand, he continues sloppily fucking you with his tounge. Your hips are already shaking, everything combined with the way he messily kisses your cunt makes you buck your hips into his face. Moans from the both of are filling the air.

Art’s tongue is merciless and all you can do is moan and whine and take what he gives to you.

“Shit, Art. I'm close please” you sound so whiny, in a way that would embarrass you if were in your right mind.

Wordlessly art sucks your clit with vigor, he gives your hand another squeeze, as if to calm you. You start to spasm around his tongue, body tense, legs shaking.

“Fuck.” you're breath hitches as you cum all over his face, letting out one last loud moan.

Art sits up on his knees to kiss you, you can taste yourself on him.

“You're so perfect.”

those words make you feel things you don’t that you should be, they make you think about how he'd never want to be with you outside of just sex. Its purely biological, he can't fully mean it when he says shit like that.

You pull away from him, his eyes are half lidded and his mouth slightly agape. You Standup abruptly. His eyes follow you in confusion, he's not quite sure what just happend.

“I’m sorry you should probably leave, thanks for… this.” You chew the inside of your lip.

Your words are awkward as they escape you, he knows you're clearly upset by something.

Art gets a furrow between his brows again and you can't help but want to kiss it away.

“You okay? I didn't do anything wrong did I?”

You quickly shake your head, “no, that was perfect. this was perfect,I just need to go do something.” Clearly lying through your teeth but he doesn't push any further.

Wide concerned eyes stare up at you, Art stands from his position on his knees using the arms of the seat as leverage. He’s in front of you now, giving your shoulder a squeeze as he leaves the room with a soft ‘goodbye’.

Suddenly, you don't think you can handle it. Pretending that having sex with him doesn't change how you feel about him in any way. When it does,

you wish things could go back the way that they were before.