#and then in the mornings i just do water. yk... i only use the actual wash at night. but idkkkkk

[notiddygothgf]

i.

★ pairings: dante (netflix dmc) x fem reader

★ summary: After a messy breakup with Dante and a year of silence, you've rebuilt your life from the ground up. Now, Dante's back, and one thing is clear — he's determined to make you his.

★ ❝ It's been exactly 365 since I've seen your face ❞

★ c.w.:dante being a little shit, suggestive content. not beta'd, reuploading bc it got taken down?

★ a/n:HIIIIIIIII!!!! okay so i put out a poll asking about how y'all would feel if i posted a dante fic, and omg. so many of you replied. so now here go ahead and take this shit!! damn!!! jk i want him so bad so yk i had to rush to get this done LMFAOOAOA. enjoy besties! if you're from around here, you know the drill. if not, please leave lots of comments, i love the spam and your praise gives me motivation to update quicker!!

★ w.c: 10k

pretty ; chapter index

YOU AND DANTE had a messy breakup. Contrary to how it may have seemed at the time of “The Argument” (as you had begun calling it), there was nothing sudden about it. It didn’t detonate like some sort of time bomb, but disintegrated rather slowly – like water trickling through the cracks in the cement, soft and patient, until one day everything just caved in.

It didn’t always feel that way.

When you had first met Dante, it was… effortless. (Some of which was the rose colored glasses’ doing, you were sure). He was cute as hell, first of all. He was funny, too. He had no problems laughing you right out of your panties on the first date, and… well, practically every night after that. He looked at you like you were everything to him – like a dream come true, like he couldn’t believe someone like you would actually have chosen him. You got along famously.

For a while, things stayed that way. Six months, in fact. Things were good. Simple. You’d wake up to his arms around you, his voice in your ear, calling you names that only sounded pretty falling from his lips – princess, babydoll, sweetheart. His stupid jokes – the ones that always used to make you crack a tired grin. He used to make time.

But, somewhere along the way, his job started taking more and more of him. Late nights began to bleed into early mornings. You’d wait up for him with leftovers gone cold and shows paused halfway through. At first, he apologized. Said he hated missing out on time with you. But then the apologies stopped, and so did the explanations. You’d go days without hearing from him. Sometimes weeks. You’d text—hey, you okay?, can you call when you're free?—and the replies would trickle in too late or not at all.

You tried to be understanding. People get busy, right? Life gets in the way. You told yourself that a strong relationship should be able to weather a few quiet days. But it was more than just quiet. It was absence. It was like he was slipping through your fingers and pretending he wasn’t.

And when you did talk, it was always surface-level. You’d try to tell him how it made you feel—how the silence scared you, how you felt like you were in this alone—and he’d get defensive. He’d say, “I’m doing my best,” or “You know how much pressure I’m under right now.” And you’d bite your tongue. You didn’t want to add to the weight on his shoulders. But the resentment kept building. You weren’t asking for the world. Just a check-in. A sign that he still remembered how to love you when things got hard.

The miscommunications started small. A forgotten anniversary dinner. A vague answer when you asked if he’d be home. But they stacked up like dominoes, one after the other, until the smallest push sent everything toppling. You both stopped speaking the same language. You’d say, “I miss you,” and he’d hear, “You’re not good enough.” He’d say, “I’m tired,” and you’d hear, “You don’t matter.”

Then came the argument. The big one. The one that split the foundation.

You were setting the table when he buzzed the apartment door.

It was 10:18 PM.

You stared at the intercom for a second before pressing the button to let him in. No words. No "I'm here" or "Sorry I'm late." Just the click of the door unlocking and silence.

You opened the door before he could knock. Dante stepped in looking like hell—literal hell. Blood on his sleeve, eyes sunken from lack of sleep, hair damp like he’d tried to rinse off whatever mess he’d walked through before coming to you. He smelled like copper and smoke and exhaustion.

Still, your heart lifted for a beat just seeing him. Stupid, soft reflex.

“Hey,” you said.

He nodded. “Hey.”

You stepped aside and let him in. He didn’t kiss you. Didn’t touch you. Just dropped his duffel by the door like he was clocking out of something. The sight of him like this—tired, distant, barely standing—it tugged at something in your chest.

“I made dinner,” you said, a little too hopeful. “It’s probably cold by now, but—”

“I’m not hungry,” he cut in, already moving toward the couch.

You stood in the kitchen for a second, hands still resting on the back of one of the chairs. Watching him. He sat with a grunt, elbows on knees, head in his hands like gravity was pressing harder than usual. You knew that posture. It meant don’t ask questions. Don’t start anything. Just let him sit in the silence.

But tonight… you couldn’t.

It had been a week. A week without him. A week of one-word texts, unanswered calls, and too many nights alone, replaying old conversations in your head trying to figure out when exactly he started slipping through your fingers.

“I waited,” you said softly. “I thought you were coming at eight.”

He didn’t look at you. “Got held up.”

You waited. Hoped for more. An apology. An explanation. Something that showed he realized this mattered.

Nothing.

You took a slow breath. “Dante… you can’t keep doing this.”

That made him lift his head, eyes hazy with irritation. “Doing what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Ghosting me for a week. Showing up in the middle of the night like it’s nothing. Acting like I’m just supposed to—what? Pretend we’re fine?”

His jaw tensed. “I’ve been working.”

“I know,” you said, voice sharper than you meant. “I know you’ve been working. Risking your life. I get it. But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care when you disappear. I can’t keep sitting alone in this apartment wondering if you’re alive.”

He blinked, like the words didn’t land right. Or like he didn’t want them to.

“You think I enjoy this?” he muttered. “You think I like being stuck in some sewer for three days bleeding out while some freak tries to tear me apart?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“You have no idea what it’s like out there.”

“No,” you snapped, stepping forward. “But I know what it’s like in here. Waiting. Checking my phone every five minutes. Making excuses for you. Pretending this doesn’t hurt because I’m scared if I say the wrong thing, you’ll just disappear again.”

He stood then, sudden and sharp. “You think I want to be like this?”

“I think you don’t know how to let people in,” you said, quieter now. “And I think I’ve been trying so damn hard to hold onto something that doesn’t want to be held.”

He stared at you, breathing hard, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” he said finally.

“I didn’t cook for someone who wasn’t going to show up,” you said.

The room went still.

He looked away first. Scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m tired.”

“So am I.”

Your voice cracked on that last word, and he looked at you again—really looked this time. And for a second, something in him softened. Like he saw the version of you that wasn’t angry or nagging or dramatic. Just hurting.

But he didn’t reach for you.

Didn’t say I’m sorry.

Didn’t say I missed you.

Just ran a hand through his hair and said, “Maybe this isn’t working.”

Not working?

Not working?

“You can’t be serious,” You huffed out a bitter laugh. Dante reached for you. You swatted him away. “You… We’ve been together for six months. What the fuck do you mean “Maybe this isn’t working”?”

He stood before you with his arms crossed, white hair still disheveled from his day, eyes narrowed, jaw ticked. “I mean that this…” He answered, gesturing to the space between you and him. “Isn’t working out. I don’t think– I can’t…” He swallowed, “I can’t be the man you need me to be. Not right now.”

“You’re gonna give up on us? Just like that?” You continued, still, with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Then, you stepped forward, raising a hand to reach out for him, “I love you, Dante. You’re not gonna fight for us?”

“This isn’t love,” He spoke, tone final, but the slightest trembling breath beneath his words betrayed his true feelings. His fingers slipped into his hair, trembling as they carded through his white locks and tugged at his roots. “Look at you– you don’t even see the problem. You shouldn’t have to worry about whether or not your boyfriend is gonna come back alive. You shouldn’t have to put your whole life on hold for me. You still have the whole world to see. I don’t want to have to live a double life anymore.”

“Then let me in!” You hissed back. Your arms were crossed, too. “Do you think I like feeling as if I don’t know the man I love? I could take some of the burden off your shoulders, Dante, if you just–”

“Enough,” Dante sucked his teeth. “I don’t want you wasting your life away worrying over me,” After a lengthy pause, he continued, “All we ever do is fight and fight and fight– I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore, not with you. You’d be much happier without me.”

He was probably right.

“Oh, fuck you,” you shouted, your voice cracking with fury, but even then, it wasn’t enough to hide the way your heart was shattering inside your chest. When your eyes finally met his, you knew he felt the heat of it—anger and hurt and betrayal, all coiled together like fire licking at his skin.

“You’re not going to decide what’s best for me.”

“Yes, I am,” he snapped, cold and absolute.

You took a step forward, trembling, jaw clenched so tight you thought it might break. “You don’t know what’s good for my well-being,” you bit back, chest heaving. “You don’t even know what’s good for your well-being.”

That hit him. You saw it in the way his lips pressed into a thin line, how his teeth caught the inside of his cheek like he was chewing on the guilt. Then he said the words that broke you:

“You could be so much happier without me.”

And just like that, everything inside you stopped.

Something in your gaze must’ve shifted then—something that startled even him. Because the anger didn’t burn quite as bright anymore. The fire was still there, but it flickered lower, smothered by something glassy, something wet clinging to your lashes. It was hurt. Real hurt. Deep, bone-deep heartbreak that swelled until your chest couldn’t contain it.

“Baby…” he sighed, and for the first time, his voice wasn’t sharp. His shoulders dropped like the weight of his decision had finally started to crush him. “I’m sorry. You know I love you. I just… I can’t live with myself knowing that one day I might not come back to you.”

You didn’t say it back.

Not this time.

Even if you wanted to. Even if your love for him still pulsed through every inch of your body, even if it begged for a reason to stay—how could you keep loving someone who was walking away from you like this?

Your lips parted, dry and trembling. You licked them slowly, like maybe the right words would come if you just gave them time. But all you could manage, hoarse and raw, was: “Take your shit…” You swallowed hard. God, it hurt. It hurt worse than anything he could’ve done. “And go.”

He froze.

“What?” he asked, stunned, like he hadn’t expected you to mean it. Like he thought you’d plead. Cry. Kiss him one more time just to remember what it felt like. Like you’d make it easier for him to leave you.

But you didn’t.

“I said…” You looked up at him, every inch of you on fire, your arms folded so tight across your chest they ached. You could feel yourself shaking—fists clenched, breath shallow. “Take your shit… and get the fuck out of my apartment.”

And you meant it.

Even if it destroyed you.

You saw the pain in his eyes then. The flicker of disbelief. The way his entire world seemed to crumble at your feet. Two years. Two whole years. Twenty-four months of laughter, late nights, shared secrets, and silent apologies. A thousand soft I love yous whispered between sheets. A thousand more unspoken.

Was he second-guessing it now? Did he finally realize what he was throwing away?

YOU

|  Guys we’re going out tn.

When you reached the bar, it was still early. There were a few people here, but not too many. The low murmur of voices and clinking glasses provided the background noise that you desperately craved.

You grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a whiskey, the burn in your throat just sharp enough to make you feel something—anything, really. It felt like you were drinking to forget, and the first sip seemed to help, dulling the edges of the ache, if only for a moment.

Your friends noticed you as soon as they walked in. They must have heard the difference in your voice when you answered their text. They could tell something was off, but they didn’t press. Not immediately.

The first drink turned into another. And another. You weren’t trying to get drunk; you were just trying to escape. To lose yourself in the clinking of ice cubes, in the low hum of the bar, in something that wasn’t him. But as the minutes passed, the alcohol didn’t do much to stop your thoughts from spiraling back to him.

You thought about the night before. The argument. His face, so conflicted, yet resolute. The way he walked away without even a second glance, as if he knew the decision he was making was the right one. How could he be so sure? How could he leave you like that?

“Another?” one of your friends asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. She was smiling, but there was a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

You didn’t even think about it before nodding. “Yeah,” you said, a forced smile on your lips. "Just one more."

You didn’t want to talk about Dante. Not yet. You didn’t want to explain to anyone why you felt like the world had been yanked out from under you. But it didn’t matter. Your friends could see it in your eyes. They didn’t need you to say a word.

No, a year ago, your life changed.

So, you can imagine how it felt to walk home from a day spent at the grocery store, bags tucked beneath your arms, and see him standing there.

Dante.

It had been a year since you’d last seen him, and you were doing just fine. Really. A little grocery shopping to get your mind off the usual stuff, a bag of chips here, some pasta there. You didn’t need Dante in your life anymore, and if you were being honest, you were doing better without him. You had a boyfriend now, someone who didn’t make you question your sanity. Things were... uncomplicated.

That was until you turned the corner and saw him.

Dante. Standing there across the street, looking like he’d just stepped out of a scene from some movie you hadn’t signed up for. There he was, all messy hair and that familiar red coat, like he didn’t have a care in the world. You froze for a second, staring at him as if your eyes were playing tricks. Was he actually here? In your world, in your life, right now?

Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be? The universe had a sick sense of humor.

You immediately felt that familiar wave of annoyance—was it even annoyance? Maybe it was exhaustion, or some mix of both. You adjusted the grocery bags under your arms and took a deep breath. You were doing just fine. He was not about to mess with your day.

But Dante, being Dante, didn’t just stand there. No, he was coming toward you now, his long stride eating up the space between you with an unsettling familiarity.

Great, you thought, shifting the weight of your bags to one side as if they were the only thing that mattered right now. But in truth, you were already calculating the best possible escape route. The crosswalk? Too far. The alley to your left? Maybe, but the sidewalk was too narrow. Okay, girl. Focus.

You picked up the pace, shifting into a power walk as though your life depended on it. Sure, you looked a little ridiculous, but it was a small price to pay for a little peace and quiet. You weren’t looking back. Not now.

Behind you, you could hear Dante’s footsteps closing in, his voice trailing after you, “Hey, wait up!”

But you didn’t wait up. No way.

You’d moved on. You had a boyfriend now, someone who would never make you feel like a damn emotional rollercoaster. Someone who didn’t show up after a year of radio silence with that same unreadable stare, acting like nothing happened. No, Dante. No thank you.

Still, you could hear his footsteps, gaining on you. It was like an unspoken challenge. You had to admit, he wasn’t slow. But neither were you. You adjusted the bags once again—damn, this was turning into a workout—and picked up the pace.

You weren’t going to make it easy for him. You weren’t even going to acknowledge the way your heart still remembered his presence, the way it beat a little faster the closer he got. You weren't going to let yourself get sucked back into that mess.

His voice was closer now. “Come on, just—”

A sigh. You were really doing this, weren’t you?

A glance over your shoulder, just a quick flick of the eyes to see how much ground he’d covered, and what do you know? He was right behind you now, practically breathing down your neck. “I’m just trying to catch up, alright?”

Catch up? You weren’t sure whether to laugh or groan at that. This wasn’t a race, Dante, and you didn’t need a personal trainer chasing you down the sidewalk. You could already feel the annoying tightness in your chest. The one that had always been there whenever he was around, the one that reminded you of how difficult it had been to move on in the first place.

He was getting too close for comfort now, and you could already tell this wasn’t going to end well if you kept this pace. So, against every instinct telling you to keep walking, you slowed down just enough for him to catch up. You didn’t want to, but here he was, breathing like he’d run a marathon just to get you to stop. And for what? So he could talk?

He stopped beside you, his eyes searching your face with that all-too-familiar intensity. His chest heaved slightly, probably from the exertion, but you’d be damned if you showed any signs of weakness.

For a second, he just stood there, catching his breath. You, on the other hand, kept your eyes straight ahead, acting like you hadn’t just sprinted for your life.

“Alright, listen,” he said, voice softer now, “I know I messed up. But can we at least—”

You didn’t even look at him as you interrupted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I can’t. I have to go.”

And that was that. You didn’t need to say anything else. You couldn’t afford to.

You were done.

That night, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, hair tied up into a neat little bonnet. The faucet was running – lukewarm water trickling out – but you weren’t washing up. No, you were standing there, letting the water drip down your eyes, your cheeks, your neck. You were staring at your tired reflection.

You should’ve been washing away the exhaustion of the day, but instead, you just let it fall over you, droplets slipping down your face, down your chest, almost as if you were trying to wash away the past.

But you couldn’t. No matter how much water hit your skin, how much you scrubbed away at your tired reflection, you couldn’t erase him. Dante. He was there, in the back of your mind, in the way your pulse quickened when you saw him again, after all this time. It had been a year, and yet, when you looked at him across the street, the world seemed to stop for a moment. It was like stepping back into a dream.

You hadn’t realized how much of your heart you’d given to him, how much of yourself you’d let him take. And then, nothing. No texts, no calls, no explanation. Just silence, stretching on for months, the gap between you two growing wider, until you started to convince yourself that maybe that was for the best. Maybe you were better off without him, your life finally starting to take shape without the constant ache of waiting for him to come back, to acknowledge the mess he left behind.

Cupping your hands beneath the faucet, you splashed some more water onto your face. God, I need therapy.

But, being that your current rent situation didn’t exactly permit a visit to the psychologist at the moment, you threw your favorite fuzzy robe over your satin cami and shorts, popping your feet into your beat up pink slippers. You shuffled right over to your bedroom and plopped down onto the bed, limbs falling uselessly to the mattress.

Kill me, you thought.

That wasn’t viable, though. So, instead, you reached into your nightstand (past the vibrator you had bought eight months ago during the worst part of your dry streak) and pulled out a sheet mask. Biting into the package, you opened it and pulled the slimy thing out. The serum melted into your skin as you laid it over your face, leaning your head back against the pillows and relaxing for the first time in what felt like ages.

Your head was blissfully empty. There were no thoughts of men with precarious jobs and swords and… devilishly handsome faces. No, it was just you. You and your favorite pajamas and your favorite skincare routine.

You flicked the TV on. You didn’t have to change it back to your favorite channel. No, that was the glory of having a shitty little apartment in the city to yourself. It was on the same channel you left off on – your favorite drama.

The characters buzzed to life. You set the remote down and watched.

The characters on screen started a new conflict, one that you knew would keep you hooked for the next hour. You sank deeper into the couch, letting the familiar warmth of your apartment wash over you. Everything was quiet. Peaceful. The kind of quiet that only comes when you're truly alone.

Then, the sound came. A soft knock at the window outside your room, followed by a long, drawn-out silence. Your heart skipped, the peace broken. You froze, eyes still locked on the TV, the characters' voices fading into the background as your mind reeled. It was too late for anyone to be outside. Too late for anything normal to be happening. Another knock, louder this time. A rhythmic tap that sent a shiver down your spine. You slowly turned your head toward the window, your pulse quickening.

Oh, God, you thought. I’m going to die.

Still, because you couldn’t exactly ignore the sound, you slid out of your warm, comfortable bed and into your slippers once more. Then, hesitating every single step of the way, you snuck into the living room, glancing around in search of the source of the sound.

Another knock. This one louder. You held your breath, hand hovering just above the blinds. It was coming from outside. No one else came to your apartment at this hour. You knew who it had to be.

You glanced down.

There, crouched on the balcony just below your window, was Dante. His face was half-lit by the streetlights, a little smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he waved at you. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, like he hadn’t disappeared for an entire year. Like you hadn’t spent every sleepless night wondering if he was dead or alive, missing his presence as if your heart had been torn in half.

The audacity of it. There he was, grinning like nothing had changed. His hair was messy, his eyes gleaming with that same mischievous spark that used to drive you crazy. The same spark that made your chest ache, even now.

“He cannot be serious,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper, but he caught it, his grin widening.

You could almost feel his eyes on you, waiting, daring you to say something. But you couldn’t. What could you even say?

All you could do was crack the window open.

“Sorry,” He huffed out a laugh. A familiar one. One you… kinda missed, actually. “I tried calling, but I think you blocked my number.”

“I got a new phone,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make this situation any better – as if you would open your eyes and he wouldn’t be here.

But he was. 

“What the fuck are you even doing here– I mean– the balcony, Dante, really?” You threw your hands out, eyes full of exasperation. “You could have knocked at the door like a normal person.”

“Would you have answered?” He asked. “If you knew it was me?”

“Probably not,” You replied honestly. “I should leave you out here to freeze to death.”

“Oh, right, about that,” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head abashedly. The entire encounter was so absurd that a part of you firmly believed you were dreaming. “I found out I’m, like… half demon. Crazy, right? So I don’t think I would freeze to death. Demon stamina, or whatever.”

Demon stamina. You thought. Right. Definitely awake right now.

Still, that would certainly explain his… endurance.

“Okay…” You had many, many questions, but that was the only thing you could muster, “Should I be… scared?”

What the fuck is going on?

In all honesty, if he told you that the world was ending tomorrow, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“Nah,” He waved your concerns away with the back of his hand. “I’d never hurt you. Except for… well, when I broke up with you. That’s why I came here, actually. Sorry about that. I’ve done some reflection and I…” Suddenly appearing rather nervous, he trailed off, “I fucked up. I was a real asshole to you back then. God, this is hard.”

Your arms dropped to your sides as you stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “You’re… ridiculous.”

“I know,” Dante said, hands up like he was surrendering. “But hear me out—”

“No, no. You don’t get to just Spider-Man your way onto my balcony, confess your demon heritage, and then act like this is normal,” you said, pointing to him like you were trying to make sense of a hallucination. “You broke up with me out of nowhere. Then you vanished. For a year, Dante. Not a word. Not even a shitty text.”

“I didn’t have a phone,” he replied, offended. “I was on a mission. I was in Hell.”

You snorted. “Oh, please.”

He blinked at you. Then, very seriously, he hissed out, “No, I was literally in Hell. For a year. You can’t imagine what that was like for me.”

“Oh my god.” You pressed your fingers to your temples. “You’re insane. Hell? Really?”

“I’m not making it up! You think I wanted to ghost you for twelve months?”

“Well, you kind of did. You broke up with me, remember?” You crossed your arms. “Said I should forget you. That I should move on.”

A pregnant pause.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he muttered.

“Well, congrats. I moved on. I did the whole crying on the bathroom floor thing, I got a therapist, I drank my sorrows away, I bought this plant—” You gestured wildly at the lonely fern in the corner. “His name is Rico. And he’s thriving. Without you.”

Rico was not, in fact, thriving. He was an exotic plant. One you had purchased on impulse at a farmer’s market that you definitely should have researched prior. He wasn’t doing too well cooped up inside of your apartment in New York City. Who would?

Dante crouched down, tilting his head, squinting at Rico. “Looks a little dehydrated.”

You glared. “So do you. What do you even want, Dante?”

His mouth opened, then closed. He looked down for a second, suddenly quiet. “I want a do-over.”

You stared at him.

“I didn’t have much control over the whole… trapped-in-hell thing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck again, “but I wasn’t happy with how we ended things. I could’ve been better to you. I kept rehearsing what I’d say to you if I ever saw you again, but I wasn’t expecting it to actually happen.”

He’s not being serious

… Is he?

One look at him, and you knew he was.

You let out a long, flat breath. “We can’t.”

“Why?”

You raised your brows. “Because we can’t,” you said again, quieter this time. And this time, it hurt.

“Why?” He asked, as if you hadn’t made yourself perfectly clear. “I’ve changed, honest. The past year I spent without you, I realized how good you were to me. How I took you for granted – I don’t wanna let you go. I don’t wanna make the same mistake twice.”

Aw, you thought, That’s… kinda sweet, actually.

No. Stop that.

Instead, you propped your hand up on your hip, “Does that mean you won’t be here on my balcony ever again?”

He paused, pursed his lips. “Okay, maybe I would,” He finally admitted. “But if you would let me in–”

You cut him off right then and there, rolling your eyes. “I can’t, Dante. I have a fucking boyfriend.”

That hit its mark.

His mouth opened, then closed again. The silence that followed made you uncomfortable in a way only Dante could manage—equal parts awkward and guilty. He looked down at the floor of the balcony like maybe it had some hidden message for him.

“Oh…” he murmured. “Oh. You… You really moved on.”

“Something like that.” You shrugged, trying not to sound as tired as you felt. “That’s what happens when you disappear for a year. Life goes on.”

“Not for me,” he muttered, lips curling downward into a pout that would’ve been funny if it didn’t come attached to so much damn history. “Fuck that guy. I could treat you way better, honest.” Then he added, almost too fast, like it slipped out before he could filter it, “I could probably fuck you better, too—”

He probably could. Honestly, your current sex life with your current boyfriend wasn’t the greatest. Still, he was consistent. He didn’t leave you hanging for nights in a row, wondering if he would come home. Not to mention the fact that, when you were with Dante, well…

You had some of the loveliest orgasms you had ever had. On the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen counter. The kind of orgasm you hadn’t achieved once since he had left. Not with your vibrator, and certainly not with your new boyfriend.

Your stare could’ve burned through glass. “I have to be up early tomorrow.”

He had the decency to look vaguely ashamed, but not enough to shut up. “Did you come here just to ask for a do-over?” you asked, already backing toward the window.

“No,” he said, and then paused. “Yes. I don’t know. Maybe.”

You almost respected his commitment. Almost.

You didn’t respond right away, just stared at him— hair as white as starlight, red leather coat, sword still strapped to his back, ridiculous expression like he genuinely thought charm could undo the year-long hole he’d left in your life. The silence made him fidget, scuffing the toe of his boot against the concrete.

“What do I have to do to convince you?”

You sighed. You really sighed this time, long and from the chest, because there was no point in even pretending this wasn’t exhausting.

“Goodnight, Dante,” you said.

Then… you shut the window.

The next day came with no promises of peace.

You were behind the counter at the diner, hair tied back, apron smudged with flour, oil, and maybe a little bit of your sanity. The coffee machine hissed in protest as you filled another mug for a trucker in the corner booth. Your feet hurt. Your head hurt. But at least it was a different kind of ache than the one Dante stirred up last night.

And then, like the universe had a personal vendetta against your emotional wellbeing, the bell above the door jingled.

You didn’t have to look up.

You felt him walk in—like some twisted sixth sense. The air shifted, and you could practically smell the cologne he always wore, something smoky and leather-soft. A second later, a voice followed.

“Damn. This place got a lot prettier since I was last here.”

You looked up anyway. Because of course you did.

There he was. Dante. Leaning casually against the host stand, all devil-may-care charm and a ridiculous leather jacket that made him look like he belonged anywhere but this greasy spoon diner. His eyes found you immediately.

You blinked slowly, then turned back to the coffee pot. “I swear to God,” you muttered under your breath, “I’m gonna lose my mind.”

He strolled right up to the counter, pulling up a stool like he hadn’t trespassed on your balcony twelve hours ago. Like he hadn’t cracked open an old wound and kissed the air with apologies.

“You look good in that apron,” he said, grinning.

You didn’t bother looking at him this time. “You look like someone who doesn’t tip well.”

“I tip amazing,” he argued. “Just like I–”

“Do me a favor and don’t finish that sentence,” you warned, grabbing a towel and wiping down a clean patch of counter for the hundredth time. “Have you always been this petulant or is it something in the air?”

“I’m a lot of things,” he said, shrugging innocently. “I’m a man of many talents. Want me to prove it? I’ve got time.”

Oh my god.

You finally turned to face him. “Do you not have demons to fight or… hell dimensions to get trapped in again?”

He laughed. “You remembered.”

You deadpanned, “How could I forget? It’s not every day your ex disappears into Hell without a cell phone.”

Dante lifted his hands like he was surrendering. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair. But look—I just thought we could talk. Maybe over some waffles? Syrup fixes a lot.”

You were already shaking your head. “No. Nope. I’m not doing this with you. Not here.”

“I’ll be good,” he said, drawing an imaginary halo over his head with his fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout,” you replied flatly.

“And you were never this mean to me,” he said with mock hurt.

“You were never this annoying. Go piss off somewhere. You had no problems leaving me alone for a year,” you shot back. Then you waved down one of your coworkers—a sweet girl named Lila with a bright smile and no idea what kind of emotional tornado she was about to serve.

“Hey, Lila?” you called. “Can you take counter stool three for me?”

She blinked. “Uh, sure. You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said, handing her a menu. “He’s all yours.”

Dante blinked as Lila approached with her notepad, looking confused and a little betrayed. “Wait, seriously?”

You leaned over the counter slightly, voice low. “You want waffles? Order them. You want closure? Write a poem.”

And then you walked away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t have to. The ache in your chest was enough to tell you exactly what kind of expression he wore.

The living room was dark, lit only by the bluish haze of the TV screen flashing between killstreaks and loading screens. Your boyfriend was sunk deep into the couch, legs wide, controller gripped like a lifeline. He hadn’t looked at you in over twenty minutes, completely absorbed in his game, spewing half-hearted trash talk at some twelve-year-old with better aim and a louder mic.

You shifted beside him, stretching a little, brushing your leg against his. Nothing. So you leaned over, nuzzling your nose lightly against his neck, just beneath his jaw.

“Hey,” you murmured, your voice soft and sweet. You let your fingers slide down his chest, slow and teasing. “Want to take a little break?”

He flinched—not from desire, but because someone on screen shot him. Again.

“Babe, not now,” he mumbled, eyes glued to the game. “I’m in ranked.”

You pulled back a bit, blinking, mouth falling open in disbelief. “Seriously?”

He didn’t look at you. Just kept clicking buttons, dead focused on the screen. “Yeah, just like… fifteen more minutes. Can you make dinner or something?”

You stared at him, chest hollowing out in quiet, stunned offense. You’d offered him your body. He asked for food.

There was a moment of silence. Your hand dropped from his chest.

You sat back against the cushion, a little colder now, teeth pressing into your bottom lip. And that was when Dante’s voice—his voice—echoed in your head from the night before.

“Fuck that guy. I could treat you way better, honest. I could probably fuck you better, too—”

You closed your eyes briefly, scoffing under your breath. God, he was ridiculous. And yet…

You pushed yourself off the couch wordlessly, heading to the kitchen without a sound.

Behind you, your boyfriend called out, “You’re the best, babe!”

You didn’t answer. Not with words. Just slammed the fridge door a little harder than necessary.

And in the back of your mind, Dante's voice lingered like a splinter.

You turned the stove on, lips pressed into a thin, tired line. Maybe later you’d lie down and try to remember what it felt like to be romanced by someone who didn’t treat Call of Duty like a second girlfriend.

One incredibly sexless night later, you took the evening to decompress. That is, you lit up some candles, had a few slices of the pie you’d kept in your fridge for days just like this one, and blocked off an hour for the sole purpose of masturbation. 

What? You needed it.

The apartment was warm, dimly lit, perfectly still. You’d even put your phone on Do Not Disturb, because tonight was about you. Your fingers itched with anticipation as you laid out your night like a ritual: the robe slipping lower on your shoulder, the cool sheets turned down, your favorite toy already waiting on the nightstand like a promise.

God. You needed this. You were wound tight. Between work, the complete lack of passion from the man you were dating, and that absolutely deranged balcony visit from Dante… you were more than pent up. You were practically vibrating with unmet desire.

You let out a long, dramatic exhale, sinking down into your mattress with the kind of grace usually reserved for tragic heroines. Just you, a flickering candle, and the fantasy of literally anyone but your boyfriend.

You reached for the waistband of your pajama shorts.

Knock, knock.

Your hand froze.

You stared at the ceiling. Maybe it was a neighbor. Maybe someone had the wrong door.

Knock, knock. Louder this time. Three slow raps, followed by silence.

You sat up slowly, groaning into the air. Then, begrudgingly, you stuffed your vibrator back into the drawer, kicking your feet over the edge of the bed and walking into the living room. It was dark, of course, so you flicked on a light. When you stared into the peephole of your front door, it took all of the strength you had to not bang your head against the door.

It was Dante. Again. No leather jacket this time, just a black hoodie, hands jammed into the pockets of his sweatpants.

You blinked, then groaned into the back of your hand.

Another knock, like he heard you. And then, muffled through the wood, his voice.

“I can hear you in there. Demon hearing, remember?” He brought his head up to the peephole, staring right back at you. “I know it’s late, Just… let me talk to you? For just a second? Please?”

You pulled the door open.

Dante stood there in the dim hallway light, hair windswept, hands in his pockets like he’d been pacing outside for a while, working up the nerve. His gaze moved over your face with a kind of stunned reverence, like he hadn’t really believed he’d see you again.

“Hey, princess,” he said.

There it was. That nickname. The one you hadn’t heard in a year.

You stepped aside without a word. He walked in like the place still remembered him. Or maybe you did.

The door clicked shut behind you.

You didn’t speak. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed tight over your chest, watching him watch the room like it had changed without him. It had. You had. But he still looked at you like he saw the girl you were a year ago. That girl who let him ruin her, and smiled while doing it.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he said, voice low. “I tried.”

“Did you?” You answered.

“Okay, not really,” He looked at you again, more serious now. “I keep thinking about you. All the time. You’re in my head constantly, like—fuck—I’ll be walking down the street and I’ll see something and just need to tell you about it.”

You laughed. Just once. It came out bitter and exhausted. “Keep it to yourself.”

“I missed talking to you about anything,” he said. “Everything.”

You shook your head, pushing off the wall, pacing just a little—like if you kept moving, you wouldn’t fall for this again. “You don’t get to come back after vanishing for a year and say shit like that.”

“I know. I know I don’t,” he said quickly, stepping toward you. “But I can’t pretend anymore. I’ve been trying to act like– like I’m not completely in love with you still, and it’s killing me.”

Your breath caught.

After all of this time?

His hands reached for yours before you could stop him. You let him take them.

Okay… what the fuck is going on?

“You deserve someone who sees you. Someone who treats you like you matter every second of the day,” he said. “Someone who doesn’t take you for granted. I could be that. I want to be that.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Because you’d heard those words before, from people who never meant them. From the person you’d curled up beside just last night, feeling more alone than ever. And yet here Dante was, saying all the right things—but he hadn’t even asked. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know how long it had been since someone had touched you like they meant it.

Your voice came out hoarse. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” he whispered. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “I think about you when I’m trying to sleep. I think about your laugh. Your stupid, shitty taste in TV. Your coffee order. The movies you like. I want that back. I want you back.”

You yanked your hands away, jaw tight.

He’s got a lot of fucking nerve.

“Don’t do this,” you said. “Don’t show up and say these things and make me feel like this again. You don’t even know what you left behind.”

He looked at you, eyes open and raw. “Then tell me. Let me make it right.”

“Go away, Dante.” you snapped.

Silence fell between you like a slammed door. You turned your back to him, trying to catch your breath.

Then he stepped in behind you.

Not touching, not quite—but close enough that you felt the heat of him. Close enough that your body remembered every inch of him like a phantom limb. 

“Hey,” he murmured. “I know I fucked up. Can you be… like, not so mad? Just for two seconds?”

His hand slid to your hip, turning you gently toward him. You let him, still trembling, still so full of everything you never got to say.

“I’ve been in love with you this whole time,” he whispered. “And I’m so fucking sorry.”

The words were genuine. Genuine enough that you felt the tears begin to prickle at your eyes all over again – emotional at the mere thought of him, because truthfully?

You missed him, too. You just didn’t want to admit it. You missed the late nights and later mornings. You missed waking up next to him, hearing him talk about his crazy adventures as a demon hunter. You missed his kisses, the smell of him, his everything.

And, God, the sex… The sex was great.

He was taller than you. Always had been. But in that moment, it felt impossible not to notice how much he towered over you—how his shadow swallowed yours, how the air itself seemed to dip around him. You didn’t want to look up at him, but you did.

You stood frozen, breath shallow, pulse racing in your throat. You didn’t want this. You shouldn’t want this. But here you were, locked in place, every part of you screaming to walk away, and every part of you still craving the comfort of his touch.

“Please…” You whispered, trying to fight the overwhelming tide of emotion. “Please, Dante. Just go.”

His expression softened, like he hadn’t expected that—like he was expecting something more. You felt his fingers on your waist now, and they were warm, pressing gently into your skin. There was no escape now. You weren’t sure you wanted to run anymore, not when it felt like your body was already betraying you.

“I shouldn’t be here, I know,” he said, his voice quieter now. The distance between you seemed to vanish with each word. “But I couldn’t stay away. I tried to forget about you, I tried so damn hard, but I couldn’t. I don’t want to.”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “Don’t, Dante. I can’t… I can’t do this.”

His eyes searched yours, the guilt and longing mixing together in a way that made your heart ache. He was close now, so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. You knew what was coming, but you didn’t stop him. Not yet.

“I know I fucked up,” he whispered again, more softly this time. “But I love you. I never stopped. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t. I just—I can’t be without you.”

And then, without waiting for another word, he leaned in.

His lips touched yours, slow and deliberate, as if giving you time to pull away. But you didn’t. You didn’t stop him. For that moment, for that brief, heart-stopping moment, you let yourself fall back into the pull of him. Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching at his jacket like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

God, I missed this.

You melted against him, a wave of relief crashing over you as his kiss deepened, more urgent, more desperate. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, and you responded without thinking, your body moving instinctively against his. He groaned low in his throat, his hand sliding to your neck, the other pressing you closer.

You kissed him back like you were starving, like you had been dying for this. And for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered—like the last year of silence, the hurt, the betrayal, all of it faded away in the heat of his mouth on yours.

But then, just as quickly as the warmth had started, it turned cold.

You pulled away, gasping for air. Your chest heaved with the sudden rush of emotion. You couldn’t do this. Not again. Not after everything. Your hands shook as you pushed against his chest, creating just enough space to break the connection.

“No,” you said, your voice breaking as you stepped back, wiping at your eyes. “No. I can’t do this. I won’t.”

He blinked at you, stunned, his face pale, but he didn’t move. His eyes were full of confusion, pain, and something darker that you didn’t want to see.

“I can’t,” you repeated, voice steadying with every word. You took another step back, hand reaching for the door. “We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

There it was.

“I’m sorry, Dante,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I really am.”

He stared at you for a long moment, and for the briefest second, you saw a flicker of something in his eyes – something devastating.

But then, he nodded. The motion was slow, almost resigned, and he took a step back. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the door. As he passed you, he stopped for a moment, his gaze lingering on you one last time.

“I got a new phone. Same number,” he said, his voice raw. “You know who to call if you change your mind.”

And then, he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was deafening.

You were sitting on the couch, the faint sounds of your boyfriend’s video game drifting from the other room, mingling with the hum of the refrigerator. You hated that noise—hated the sound of him so effortlessly immersed in a world that wasn’t yours, that didn’t care about the growing tension between the two of you. You tried to focus on the TV, tried to let the sitcom's canned laughter drown out the gnawing discomfort in your stomach. But it wasn’t working. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Dante had said.

I could treat you so much better.

Those words. God, they kept coming back to you. You didn’t want them to. You didn’t want to feel them pushing into every corner of your mind, making you question everything you thought you knew. But they did. And you were alone with those thoughts now. Alone with your insecurities that you usually kept locked away.

You huffed, pulling the blanket tighter around you as if it could protect you from the storm of doubt forming in your chest. You shouldn’t be thinking about him—about Dante. You should be thinking about how your boyfriend had been in and out of your life, barely there, barely present, always distracted. But the longer you sat there, the more it seemed like it was all just a reflection of the way you felt inside: disconnected, hollowed out, drifting.

And then, as if fate was timing it just perfectly, he left his phone on the counter.

Your breath caught, the phone staring at you like a challenge, like an invitation. You told yourself you wouldn’t. You promised you wouldn’t invade his privacy like this. But your fingers itched to touch it, to confirm the sinking feeling in your stomach that something—someone—wasn't right.

You pushed yourself off the couch, the decision feeling both slow and inevitable as you walked toward the kitchen. The phone sat innocently on the counter, waiting. You took a breath, a shaky, hesitant inhale. You could walk away. You could pretend you didn’t see it.

But you didn’t.

You picked it up, unlocking it with a simple swipe. Your heart hammered in your chest, adrenaline kicking in as if you were about to do something reckless. The phone screen lit up with messages from some unnamed number. And when you saw the first message, your throat tightened.

"I miss you so much. When can I see you again?"

It hit you hard. Like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t even had time to react before your eyes were scanning the next message, then the next, your stomach sinking deeper and deeper with every word.

“Last night was incredible. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

A sharp, painful gasp escaped you before you could stop it. You clutched the phone tighter, staring at the words, and then—bam—it all crashed into you. You hadn’t been wrong. You hadn’t been imagining the distance, the emotional coldness that had settled between you and your boyfriend. There it was, in black and white—proof of his betrayal.

You felt like you were drowning, suffocating under the weight of it all. This wasn’t just about the messages. It was about everything. About the endless late nights when he came home late from “work,” about the weekends when he’d disappear into his own world, leaving you to figure out where you fit into it. And now this—this confirmation that the man you had been with for so long wasn’t who you thought he was.

You could almost hear Dante’s voice again in your head. I could treat you so much better. The words felt like salt in a wound you hadn’t even realized you had, their presence almost suffocating in the quiet of your kitchen. Were you settling? Were you really going to let this happen? Let yourself get swallowed by someone who couldn’t even give you the decency of respect?

You exhaled sharply, your pulse quickening as the next message flashed on the screen.

“I can’t wait to see you again, babe.”

Babe.

The word made you sick, twisting your stomach into knots. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much—maybe because it wasn’t meant for you. Maybe because it was meant for someone else. Someone who got his attention, who got his time, his affection. It wasn’t you. You were just the woman he settled for, the one who wasn’t good enough for the effort.

The room felt too small, the air too thick, and you suddenly hated everything about this moment. The phone in your hand, the pit in your stomach, the way you had let things go on for this long. You could feel the tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You weren’t going to cry over this. You weren’t going to let him have that power over you.

But just as quickly, the rush of hurt was replaced by something else—a sharp anger that burned through you like fire. You weren’t going to keep doing this. You weren’t going to keep letting him make you feel small. You weren’t going to keep standing by, pretending that nothing was wrong when everything was falling apart around you.

You weren’t going to be the backup. The woman who stayed even though she knew she deserved more.

The sound of footsteps from the other room snapped you out of your thoughts, and you shoved the phone down onto the counter, just as your boyfriend entered the kitchen. His voice was casual, too casual, as if nothing had changed.

“Hey, babe. You alright?” He asked, glancing over at you.

You didn’t respond right away. You just stared at him, your chest tight with all the words you didn’t want to say, the emotions you didn’t know how to handle.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The raw anger, the aching disappointment—it was all building up inside you, suffocating you. You stood there in the kitchen, phone still in your hand, his lies echoing in your mind. Every text, every word, had become a blade, slicing through your trust, through your relationship. And now, standing face-to-face with him, it all came to a boiling point.

You couldn’t help it.

You walked up to him, eyes burning with fury, and before he could even open his mouth to explain himself, your hand shot out. The slap echoed through the small apartment, sharp and loud, breaking the tense silence between you.

His head jerked to the side from the impact. He didn’t even seem surprised. But you could see the flicker of guilt in his eyes. Too late for that.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your voice trembled with rage as the words spilled out. “You think I wouldn’t find out? You think I’m some kind of idiot, just sitting here while you lie to my face?”

He reached up, touching his cheek, and for a moment, he looked almost confused. “What the hell are you talking abou–”

“No.” You cut him off, stepping back, trying to breathe, to stop the angry tears from spilling over. “Don’t even try. I’ve been here, okay? I’ve been here, giving you everything, and this is how you repay me?”

You could feel the walls around you closing in. The kitchen—the place where you had made so many meals together, laughed together, fought together—it suddenly felt suffocating. This wasn’t your home anymore. It wasn’t the place you thought it was.

“I trusted you,” you spat, your voice cracking. “I trusted you, and you went behind my back. All this time, you were texting her—her—while I was sitting here, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.”

His eyes widened, but then he scoffed, trying to brush it off. “Come on, it’s not like that. She’s just—”

“Don’t!” You interrupted again, shaking your head, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care what excuses you’ve got. I don’t want to hear how you’re ‘sorry’ and how ‘it wasn’t like that’ because it was. I saw the texts. I saw everything.”

There was a cold silence, the weight of your words hanging heavily between you. He was quiet now, eyes downcast, as if he didn’t know what to say. Maybe he had no idea how to fix it—because there was no fixing it. Not this time.

“Do you even care?” You whispered, feeling the heartbreak seep into your bones. “Do you even care that you’ve been hurting me this whole time?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you could see the hesitation in his eyes. He was trying to form the right words, trying to make it sound like he cared, like he had some kind of reason, but it was too late for that.

“No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I’m done.”

He froze. For the first time in what felt like ages, there was an almost desperate look in his eyes. “Wait—what? You can’t—”

“Don’t try to stop me.” You took a deep breath, the anger dissipating just enough to feel the weight of the pain. “I’m not staying here. I’m not going to keep putting myself through this. I’m done.”

His face fell. You could see the regret in his eyes, but you didn’t care anymore. You couldn’t. Not after everything. Not after what you’d just found out.

You turned your back on him, heading for the bedroom to grab your things. You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. You could feel the tension in the air, but you refused to acknowledge it. Not anymore. You were done.

You grabbed your bag—your jacket, your wallet, your keys—and made your way toward the door. Every step felt heavy, like you were walking away from something you had invested so much of yourself into, and yet, there was a strange sense of relief settling in your chest. You were leaving behind a lie, a hollow version of something you had once wanted to be real. 

You were leaving him.

“Wait,” he called out, his voice strained. “Please, don’t go. We can fix this. We can talk—”

But you didn’t listen. You opened the door, stepping out into the hallway, and closed it behind you. The sound of it was final. You didn’t want to hear his excuses anymore. You didn’t want to be with someone who could betray you like this.

Still, weak thing that you were, you began to cry.

“I got a new phone. Same number,” he said, his voice raw. “You know who to call if you change your mind.”

As you walked down the hallway, your phone felt heavy in your pocket. You didn’t want to look at it. 

But then, your fingers moved of their own accord, slipping the phone out of your pocket.

And there it was: Dante’s old number.

The one you’d saved with the naive hope that he might have called. You hadn’t thought about it in a while. You hadn’t dared to reach out to him—hadn’t dared to even look at his name on your phone. But now, standing there in the hallway, your heart pounding, your chest tight from everything you’d just left behind, you thought about what he’d said to you.

I could treat you better. 

I’ve always been in love with you.

A cold shiver ran down your spine at the thought. You could still hear his voice in your head, still feel the weight of his words.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, uncertainty swirling inside you. You didn’t know why you were doing this. You didn’t know what you hoped to get from it, but you couldn’t shake the pull. You wanted—needed—someone who saw you. Someone who cared.

So, in a moment of weakness, you typed the words.

YOU: I need you.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself. The words felt foreign, too raw, too vulnerable, but you couldn’t take them back now.

a/n: ok so whenn i say this is gonna be short... i MEAN IT THIS TIME LOL..... maybe. anyway! part two is almost done, so comment what you thought, let me know what you'd like to see, what you loved, etc! until next time, my loves x not sure why this got deleted? but ok

I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @mrshayakawaa

wanna join the taglist? | pretty ; chapter index

[melissathettpdmember]

GOOD MORNING SUNSHINES!

My school caught on fire and it's a day off, what bettwr way to celebrate then send an ask?

This one might not be huge or complex but I'm curious to know what do Daphne and Thoren think of DIASPRO?

I've seen people ship Thoren and Diaspro, and I can only say yes btt actually no. I got mixed feelings on it icl.

I've also seen someone say Daphne would be friends with Diaspro, yet again yes but actually no. Given what shes done to bloom.

SIDE NOTE: THAT CONVERSATION BETWEEN THOREN AND DIASPRO WHEN DIASPRO WAS MAKING THOREN THROW BLOOM IS HILARIOUS, WHAT AN IDIOT.

I actually rewrote that convo in a funnier way, this is how it happened in my hc:

Diaspro: throw her in the pit!

Thoren:… What-

Diaspro: I said throw her in the pit

Thoren: no I heard you the first time gem lady I saying what as in WHAT THE HELL

Diaspro: she's the fairy of the dragon flame so likw firw us good for her!!

Thoren:…. So with that logic if I kidnapped a water fairy and drowned ir would that not get me 18 years?

Diaspro: what?!

Thoren: I said-

Diaspro: NO IDIOT I'M ASKING WHAT AS I WHAT THE HELL

thoren: oh

Diaspro: just throw her in the stupid hole!

Thoren: what?!.

Diaspro: are you stupid?!

Thoren: uh no this time I didn't hear you

Diaspro:… I HAD BETTER CONVERSATIONS WITH WALLS

Thoren: why are you talking to walls? Do you need friends?

Diaspro:JYST THROW HER IN THE PIT YOU DUMBASS

*Daphne runs in*

Daphne:THOREN NO-

Thoren:what?!

Daphne:I SAID NO-

THoren:I MEAN NO TO WHAT?

DAphne:DONT THROW MY SISTER IN A HELL PIT

Thoren:DONT WHAT?!

DAphne: THROW MY SISTER I A HELL PIT!

Diaspro:what she said!

Daphne:what?

Diaspro:what?

Thoren:so I throw her?

Daphne:NO!

Diaspro:YES

THoren:SOMEONE DECIDED AN ANSWER GODAMNIT

Ignore the bad grammar I had this in my notes since I wrote it in the hospital when I got sick and was hooked to iv

Anyways:TYYYYY

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU OK 😭😭😭😭

So they both know Diaspro btw she's the "poor blonde girlie getting married to the biggest bitch on the planet 😔😔😔" girl after all

So I can recite what they talked about while dancing but yk

Daphne: yooo is that the blondie fuckass Sky was supposed to be married to

Thoren: yes

Daphne: I wonder what happened to her

Thoren: uhh she drugged Sky with love potion or something like 3 years ago then got banished from Eraklyon I don't know much though

Daphne: then why's she here what????

Thoren: well I hope you keep an eye on her because I can't and I don't trust her

Daphne: I'm sure she's here for a redemption arc or something give it 10 minutes

Then at the balcony scene whatever

Daphne: if our wedding is anything like this ceremony I'm leaving you at the altar like Burke leaving Cristina and I'm not gonna regret it

Thoren: do you think I want something like that

Daphne: no. you were also stupid with Diaspro today

Thoren: right

Daphne: Eraklyon men are stupid in general but I thought you were gonna end up different

Daphne: then you dropped the hammer on you foot and now it's gone

Thoren: ??? I was 19

Daphne: doesn't matter

Daphne: again if you actually endanger Bloom's life in any way I'm gonna drown you in Lake Roccaluce but it's not gonna be like how it happened 6 years ago

Thoren: didn't I apologize

Daphne: it's not enough

Thoren: :(

[lyrichi]

I know that this account was suppose to turn into a shitpost headcannon account but y'all I fucking love chemistry so much I can't even

Like sometimes I wish that there were fics of MC in obey me verse just doing chemistry with Solomon

For one I'm down bad

And for 2 I LOVE CHEMISTRY 🥺

Like my fucking chem final is in a few hours and we get to make one paper of a cheet sheet

so I fucking crammed last night and did all of the imporntatnt chapter shit from my notes and the textbook

Back to om for a sec tho I'd totally write a fic abt MC just loving chem as much as I do but like idk the chem in devildom is dif for some reason so they have to relearn shit but also teach people human chem

Like bro I love chem sm 😭😭

I already have some ideas about what could be dif between the two realms;

The periodic table could be different because of exposure to different substances and elements, which in turn makes the organisation different

Like the transition metals are larger, the man-made elements don't exist, the F block is way smaller/larger because of the exposure to different substances,

Exposure to elements are higher - for example, exposure and access to elements like Argon and ones w higher atomic masses and such are easier to find and use in experiments

The safety protocols are WAY dif, like in chem classes they don't even have the fuckin lab safety thing doesn't exist (because they're fucking demons) so things are a lot more reckless

Labs tend to be -- bigger? Like more combustion and danger involved, rather than labs that'd be seen in high school chem classes (mixing Calcium Chloride and Magnesium Sulfate for example)

Yeah man idfk I just love chem

---

Ooh here are some little snippets 😍

Solomon and MC get paired together in a chem class with not very many instructions, only being told to make an explosion with the least amount of substances. So what do they do? Pour Lithium into water

At some point after MC decides to really live-in their room in the HoL (cause like really they're sleeping in the fucking hotel guest room) they receive some chemistry equipment from Solomon. One night they don't come down for dinner and one of the bros (you choose who) comes to see what's up and they just find MC hunched over their desk trying to organise substances without cross contaminating anything, which is very hard when most things come looking like cocaine

Alternatively, it's the middle of the day and they're doing some experiment involving having to force copper to oxidize, and somehow they make the air in their room extremely explosive (think that one scene in The Martian book) After realising this, they leave their room and sit outside their door while trying to air out their room. (Fan on high, windows open all the way, door open, etc) They get questioned, yadda yadda yadda, they get banned from doing experiments in the house

Fun one; they make elephant toothpaste for Luke after he asked about what they do

Super fun one; they pull a Nile Red and do some crazy shit like make paint thinner into soda and have one (or more) of the characters drink it and half way through them drinking it MC just goes "it's actually paint thinner"

MC correcting the shit out of a teacher in RAD and somehow ending up teaching the class. Then there's a video found online of MC teaching the class and they become the resident chemistry nerd and get paid to do other people's work (before Lucy shuts it down 🙄)

Yeah uh

I don't know man I wrote like half of this at like 7 in the morning before my chem final and my brain is still on chem

I'm on break now so I can do whatever I want now but yk

---

Oh yeah here are some clarification things for those who have no clue abt terminology 😭

Transition metals are the columns in the periodic table between column 2 and 13, it's the metals like silver, gold, copper, tungsten, etc

The F block is the elements shoved underneath the rest of the table that realistically start in column 2

More for curious people; mixing CaCl2 and MgS gives you a precipitate (solid) and liquid - more specifically MgCl2 and CaS (this is without balancing them)

Lithium explodes in water - don't listen to google when it says to wash it off your hands with water

Oxidizing copper will basically change its color and make it rust

You make elephant toothpaste by mixing dry yeast, warm water, dish soap, and 3% hydrogen peroxide

wooo ok

Yeah that's it idk I love chemistry it's so fun

<3333

aight

If anyone's interested in my chem cram sheet lmkkk <33333

drink your dihydrogen monoxide <3

Edit;

Here's my cram sheets for those who want it

[gabby-i-guess]

ADHD PSA #3: Bath time 🛀

So I just moved into a new house, and for whatever reason, the gremlins living in my brain have decided that the new shower has ‼️BAD VIBES‼️ and therefore will only agree to let me have a shower when ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY. I've been trying to figure out ways to bribe them into liking the shower, so here are a few ways I've tried to make my shower ADHD accessible.

1) DIY waterproof phone holder

Yes I know I sound like an iPad kid, but if having an audiobook/music/YouTube video playing while I shower lets me shower, I'm ok with that.

All you do is take a sturdy ziplock bag, pop your phone and a large bull clip inside, and zip it up tight (give it a lil squeeze to make sure there are no gaps). Now you can clip the bag onto your shower caddy from the inside, or another ledge or something (get creative), and voila - your phone stays totally dry and you stay entertained. You can even somewhat use your phone through the plastic, so you can change songs etc. When you're done, unclip the unopened bag, take it to a dry place, and you can open it and take your phone out there.

Here's a photo for demo:

2) Sort your shit out

Personally, I get super overwhelmed by all the steps in self-care tasks, including but not limited to showers. Routines like that involve like 10 steps that call on skills ADHDers really struggle with, like decisions, organisation, memory, executive functioning, and planning. So I've made things as simple as they can possibly be for me.

I have 4 little baskets in my cupboard for each of my regular routines:

morning (with makeup, sunscreen, moisturiser, and deoderant)

evening (with vitamin C serum, makeup wipes, pimple patches, and floss)

regular shower (with antibacterial soap, shampoo, conditioner, leave in conditioner, and a hair brush)

and ✨fancy shower✨ (with a razor, shaving cream, nice smelling soap, body moisturiser, curl cream, and a candle)

Now I can just yank out whatever basket I want and use whatever is in it on autopilot. Then, when I'm done, I can dump it all back into the basket and shove it all back into the cupboard. This method reduces how overwhelmed I get by so goddamn much that my fucking dentist commented on the noticeable improvement in my teeth, because I had actually consistently had the energy to floss. And when you're consistently flossing - well, it's only up from here baby 😎

3) DIY bath

The sensory experience of showering can be truly horrendous. And while I can't fix a lot of it, I can at least make it a little less... much. Yk?

So here's my solution:

Yup.

I got myself a blow up pool.

For my shower.

I am officially the coolest person alive.

This baby was $10 at Kmart, and is 80cm wide and 18cm deep - basically, cross your legs and it will not quite cover your thighs. To provide a little more insulation and some padding, I also popped an old towel under the pool. It's really not much, but it means I can sit down in comfortably warm water and splish-splosh myself clean. As opposed to showering, which (especially in a large bathroom/shower like I have now) is alternately way too cold and way too hot, way too loud, way too (I literally don't know how else to say it) "fast", way too out of control (so much splashing and water going everywhere, UGH), and just kinda generally way too much.

A bonus perk: I can finally use some nice pink bubble bath bombs from last Christmas 🥰🥰

I really hope one of these tips helps one of you out there. Keeping yourself clean is one of those "basics" that neurotypical/mentally well people don't realise is actually really hard.

You are doing a truly awesome job, and I'm truly, truly proud of you. Sending you love and warm, clean, sudsy thoughts ❤️

[lythea-creation]

Changes - Nadeen x fem reader (Chapter 3)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

warnings: grief, fighting, yk Hiba

word count: 920

---------------

I was currently eating my breakfast, waiting for time to pass. It was a Sunday morning and Nadeen and I were going to hang out later again. Somehow it had turned into a routine. We were meeting up almost every day.

When I was finished eating I settled on the couch to continue reading my book. It had been one of mom's favorites and I had probably read it a dozen times since she passed.

Suddenly the book was snatched out of my hands, Hiba glaring at me as she was holding it above my head.

“Why are you always reading those?”, she questioned annoyed.

“What's your problem?”, I shot back.

“Well … they aren't yours. The book is from mom's collection. Stop going through her stuff”, Hiba complained.

“She isn't here anymore, Hiba”, I reminded both of us softly.

“Oh, you think I don't know that?”, she taunted me. “Which is exactly why I don't need you to push that reminder into my face all the time. Reading her books won't bring mom back.”

“I do feel closer to her though”, I confessed.

“How does that change anything?”, she yelled at me.

“Hiba ...”

She interrupted me: “No! You just don't get it!”

She stormed off, leaving me behind confused. What was up with her? She had even taken the book with her.

A frustrated sigh left my lips.

I missed my sister so much. The one who told me bedtime stories when I could not sleep. The one who suggested to start our own band. The one who never let me down.

We had been inseparable. Losing mom had been inevitable. She had just been too sick. We had expected it. But I had never considered losing Hiba, too.

The grief was too much. Like I was about to implode any second.

So I decided to go on a run.

I was not the fittest person, but the burning of my muscles and lungs were a welcome change for the emotional pain I could not get used to. Before I knew it my phone vibrated, signaling me that I had run 7k.

I came to a halt, bending forward as my abs were too tired to hold me upright. I was panting heavily, not even sure where I was. I had not paid attention to my surroundings at all.

And to top it all off I only had 15 minutes left before Nadeen was expecting me. So I searched for the way to her house and ran over there as well.

“Hey, what happened to you?”, Nadeen wondered.

After all I was completely out of breath, barely able to lift my head to look at her and I was still a bit late.

“I ran more than 10k”, I enlightened her panting.

“Why the hell would you do that?”, she exclaimed. “Well … come in first. I'll get you some water.”

“Thanks”, I uttered and followed her into the kitchen where I could not help but drop onto one of the chairs as soon as I could.

I hurried to gulp the water down, only realizing now how thirsty I had actually been.

“So why would you torture yourself like that?”, Nadeen inquired, her brows raised.

“I just needed to let it all out, ya know”, I stated.

“Hiba?”, she assumed.

“Mostly, yeah”, I confirmed.

Now she was the one sighing. “It really sucks that you can't even wind down at home”, she considered.

“But I'm not home right now, am I? Let's do something fun together”, I changed the topic.

“You could take a shower if you want and then we could watch a movie together”, she suggested. “Not that I'm saying you should shower, but I guess it would make sense.”

I pulled onto my sweaty shirt. “Yeah, you may be right about that. I don't have any clothes with me though. And I'm not sure if your clothes will fit me. I'm pretty tall after all”, I considered.

“Nah, I have some oversized clothes. Don't worry about that”, she assured me.

When all of that was settled, we sat down on her bed to watch one of her favorite movies.

Of course I did not tell her that horror movies were freaking me out. But I regretted that after about half an hour into it as it was surprisingly hard to suppress my startled reactions.

“Everything okay?”, she questioned with an amused grin when I grabbed onto her arm at one of the jump scenes.

“Uh-huh”, I muttered, my eyes pinned on the screen of her laptop.

I did not let her arm go again though, which she did not seem to mind.

“You could've just told me that you're scared of horror movies. We could have watched something else”, Nadeen pointed out when the movie was over.

“No, I wanted to see your favorite”, I remarked.

“That's cute”, she noted. “But the next pick is yours.”

I smiled up at her as I had ended up half-laying against her.

She reciprocated my smile and I found myself lost in her eyes. I did not even register that she was not looking away either.

Before I knew it, my lips were on hers. I had no idea how it had happened and who initiated it, but nothing had felt this right for years. So I was enjoying every moment of it.

-----------------

So what do you think about the story? I decided not to turn this one into a slowburn. Do you have any suggestions for future chapters?

Tag List: @sunwoniie

[achilleslefttoe]

The Gods.

hihihihihihi, so basically this is mostly for @star-realities but im making it public cause yes. hope this is helpful so basically, im writing a book series, and my big idea was to make design gods for the world inspired by me and the friends i created the world for. there've been multiple versions of this series but the very first was based on me and 3 of my friends. I found it fitting to make us the gods of the world because if it weren't for us, the book nor the world it takes place in would exist.

so these are us, i made the photos on picrew (@/hunbloom). but anyways here's the actual lore. basically Achaii woke up one day bored as hell and said "damn, this thing we live in is bland as hell. imma spice it up" and grabbed their paintbrush and made the sky. Legends say they still paint the sky every night and morning.

Evanitis saw this and joined in making greenery. The two enjoyed their freedom and the other two watched. Zacharaea and Maion never really liked each other but they both loved Ace and Evan. Then Zach wanted to join in, so he and Evan made fire by accident. Zach, overwhelmed by pride cried, and Ace stepped in to make the oceans and rivers to store the tears of Zach and later on the others. The tear thing is important later. Mae blew the fire out to keep it from spreading, they all knew the power that their creations had.

After Mae had blown out the fire, the earth parted. Evan fixed it to be somewhat uniform afterward. (goodbye Pangea) They called their island Te Etearia Isle, later changed to The Ethereal Isles. Located off the southern coast of France.

After this, Evan created an herb he was fond of and decided to burn it, after he burnt it, he began creating whatever the fuck he wanted (yes, i'm implying he made weed)

One night the deities came together to create the first humans. They loved each other in VARIOUS different ways but it got lonely when it was just the 4 of them. Mae worked out the fine tuning of humans. Two arms, two legs, two lungs, a head, brain, and heart. Of course and so on. Each one of their first humans had their own special features but i haven't worked them all out yet.

Anyways, back to the tears thing. In my story, on their side (there's their realm and our side aka the boring non magic side) there are four bodies of water that are considered Tears of a God, which is written in Latin but I don't have a perfect translation for it yet. These bodies of water have special properties that vary depending on which god cried into them. They're all salt water cause yk, they're tears.

I have one for everyone but Evan, the only thing I know about his is that it's like The Yellow River in China, it's rough and prone to flooding for a very specific reason. But that reason is written in my history notebook that i left in my locker at school.

Ace's (well mine) is called Mourner's Peak, where there's multiple little ponds (or maybe geysers idk yet) each one evokes a different emotion. Mostly negative, but some positive.

Zach's is the original pond Ace had made for him to cry into when they made fire for the first time. That is the main portal, his tears make it possible to travel from each realm easily.

Mae's in a deep deep saltwater pond, under it is the cave where she locked away the other three gods. They're stuck under there for thousands of years.

also, the star over bethlehem where people say jesus was born is where the big fight between Mae and the others happened. The star was Ace fighting cause yk they're the deity of the cosmos and celestial magic. Also toying with the idea I wrote the bible as a joke and someone found it after we locked away and then continued it lmao.

anyways, that's it for now. if anyone has questions or wants me to go into more detail on anything, I will gladly do so. Also if you wanna hear more about my series in general, i will gladly ramble about it

[fiaampiree]

SUMMER GLOW UP

—Welcome back ! Or welcome

Howdy my dear gems ! It’s me fiaanii and here I’m gonna break down the SECRET OF ULTIMATE GLOW UP !!

So… let’s go

We will divide this into 2 parts

PHYSICAL GLOW UP

MENTAL GLOWUP

Let’s first define what glowup actually means ¿!

Glow up :: a significant transformation, typically in physical appearance, that is perceived as an improvement. It's the process of turning yourself into a better version of yourself and becoming more confident, attractive, and successful.

And first we will start with PHYSICAL GLOW UP as I believe that if you feel good physically then it can make you feel good and beautiful mentally

Note : you’re beautiful the way you are this is just to enhance your beauty

physical glow up

Know your body & yourself ::

Knowing your face features and working on them accordingly can make a big change in your appearance! And it will enhance your own beauty—! And ISTG @dear peachie is a the best YouTube channel I can suggest you when it comes to know about yourself more ! Their channel can help you recognise your face shape your face type and also help you with finding your make up syle and over all appearance !

Clear skin ::

yup ! This is in the list as well like come on who doesn’t want a clear skin ¿ and I will tell you my own routine and also the tips

1. Get to know your skin type [ mine is dry skin ]

Well get your face wash and stuff according to your skin type and I’m telling you this because I myself choose the wrong face wash and I kinda regret it ! Coz it messed up my face and now I’m dealing with pimples

2. Now as you got to know your skin buy the product accordingly

Now have a routine I will tell you mine

First I was my face with a korean foam face wash but before washing my face I like to massage my face with coconut oil and gua sha then I use rose water as a toner and spray in on my face [ it helped me with pimples] also while washing my face I usually use cold water since my skin doesn’t like hot or warm water !

Then I use my moisturiser and I use baby cream as a moisturiser! Then I just use my sunscreen I use it from lakmé and yeah ! That’s it

Workout ::

Well workout as it has many benefits not only to be in shape I mean yeah it’s also a priority but also to feel good about your body and be more confident within yourself!

Vibe & aura ::

Create your own vibe and aura that you like ! Be yourself and don’t care what others think just don’t give a fuck be who you want ! Do what you want—! No one gets to tell you what to do ! Also YK creating a playlist to make you feel that way helps alot ! And I literally listen to the songs and playlist to have that kinda vibe which I want

HAIR ::

I use rice water for my hair ! It’s quite simple to use just soak rice in water the day before you have to wash your hair and then when you have to wash it ! Just rinse you hair with rice for like an hour then just wash it like you usually do ! I do it and it helped me alot !

Also for hair style I will recommend @dear peachie as they show you which hairstyle is best for your face shape as my face shape is diamond so I just go with Wonyoung’s hairstyle as they suit me the best and rosé’s hairstyle aswell

At night time ::

At night time I like to just wash my face without the face wash and then I like to moisturise it with the cream and yeah ! That’s it

Lips ::

Many ppl don’t mention the lip part but yeah ! I love to scrub my lips using my own DIY lip scrub coz I’m born at in a strict family and they won’t buy me a lip scrub so I decided to DIY it so… take sugar , honey and coconut oil mix them together and that’s it and then after I’m done I like to ise vasline for my lips !

Beauty hacks ::

Use coconut oil for long lashes or thick eye brow

Keep two spoons in fridge then take them in the morning and massage with them under your eyes for de-puffing your face

Do face yoga to get slimer and defined face

Mental glow up

Once you have a really good and powerful mindset no one can stop you from being your best self

Be your own therapist ::

Now take a diary rant on it , write your emotions, explain your day your problem and just imagine it as your best friend who won’t judge you and help you to feel better! When I tell you that paper had more patience than real people I’m telling you the fact ! Being your own therapist can help you be yourself better and just clear up your mind once you share everything with your diary

Explore ::

Go to new places and explore them try to socialise or go on date with yourself yk solo dates spend some time with yourself! Go to cafe or a restaurant and make bunch of friends but don’t get attached to anyone! DONOTTT ! Be bold and confident because you live once and you won’t get that moment in life again so just goo for it ! You don’t wanna be old and regret to not give a goo and enjoy instead you wanna remember those beautiful memories!

Don’t give a Fu.k ::

I Personally love this one ! Because it says your energy from being wasted and your mood probably too…!

All you gotta do is react less and ignore the things that you don’t like or the people you don’t like ! Simple

Eg - they make fun of you because you’re being you :: don’t give a f and enjoy what you’re doin’

You’re bestie showed you her/his real colours and turned out to be a nasty ugly creature [ and a plastic] don’t react it was probably a lesson for you , ignore her / him

[therantsofawriterrr]

Idk what joy old people get by pretending they have all the knowledge in the world.

(please don't say shit like, "they're still your grandparents, you shouldn't bitch abt them" etc, etc, I'm tired of hearing that.)

Personal rant under the cut:

I have never wanted to shake anyone by the shoulders because who doesn't know the basic concept of heat and density is like what?????

Like i get that you had the education of the 1940s which probably wasn't rly much (and this is actually true don't come at me)

But bro how can you not know that if you put something that is light in water, it WILL float up????? LIKE BRO THESE PEOPLE OUT HERE SAYING SOMETHING IS WRONG W THE MACHINE BECAUSE THE WATER HAS MORE DENSITY THAN THE FUCKING ALUMINIUM PLATE (like i get that density might be a big word but even the simplest of minds know that something light in water will float up)

Also. My grandmother is a masterchef. I've eaten her food and it was 👌👌👌 but now, at 80, after two falls and a bad arm, understandably, she has lost her touch. But, any person who can cook, be it something packaged or from scratch, knows that continuous heat burns the food.

Now, a rice cooker has two modes. Cooking and Keep Warm. When the rice is cooked, it goes to Keep Warm. Now the problem is, my grandfather, who does a lot of pujas and venerations and stuff, needs the rice to offer to god. He wants it to be kept at 7 in the morning, even tho he starts his worshipping at 8 and the offering is done at 9.

The rice cooker cooks the rice in 45 minutes. For some reason, the old man thinks that if the rice is not put into the machine at 7, he won't have anything to offer.

But anyway, my mother as well as the rest of us adhere to their rules. Now the thing is, Keep Warm mode also keeps producing heat. And that results, in the rice burning a bit and sticking to the bottom of the vessel.

Now, my grandmother, the woman who claims to "know everything" is claiming that something is wrong with the VESSEL. My grandparents have this thing that the food should be hot. And not like warm, hot. The kind where you'll have to wait for two minutes before touching it hot. There have been incidents where the curd was boiled because of their insistence.

Anyways, so the rice cooker is supposed to be switched off when it reaches Keep Warm mode. Max, it should be kept on for 30 mins or so. Hell, it's there so that you can make the rice quickly just before lunch, so that you can have it piping hot.

But, no.

"I used to finish cooking till 9 in the morning! My in-laws would throw me out of the house if it hadn't been like that! We didn't have this rice cooker and shit in our times we had to cook it in this big iron pot!"

Like... ok? Wtf do we do abt that? We have stuff that makes our lives easier and that's why we're using it.

God, I can't understand old people who're obsessed with how things were at their young age, with how their work used to go and everything.

Like, hey Grandma, bathrooms didn't fucking exist at your times right? If you want us to make that mental imagery of 1940s true for you, why do we have bathrooms in our house? Why're you using the AC, that didn't exist at your time, right?

Yk I've met old people who're sooo different from mine. Who move on with the ages, while keeping the nostalgia of their own. The right way to do it, is to miss your younger days and to talk about it.

Half the time she talks both out of her mouth and her ass. She herself doesn't know what's right or wrong, she's only here, staying in our home to tell us that everything her middle aged son, middle aged daughter in law and newly adult granddaughter are doing is wrong. That God is watching and that we'll get punished.

It's a fucking tragedy, how the abused becomes the abuser and the traumatized becomes the one who traumatizes others. And now, I'm afraid that my mother is going on the same path, while my father and I are actively trying not to.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 anyways.

[bisluthq]

I think he used to have a bad relationship with food and teetered into orthorexic stuff back during 1d tbh but who knows. He’s always been into woo woo shit but I think he had a shift to treating his wellness routine as training like an athlete in more recent years

I also think he used to have a worse relationship with a lot of stuff (food AND alcohol AND drugs), but he’s been working on a lot of that for the last like 5-6 years actually? I think he wasn’t as aware of what he “should be” eating in 1D days but used to feel bad about himself when he ate “bad” things lol if that makes sense? In 1D days I remember he went through a phase of like drinking bullet coffee so as not to eat anything else lol which… obviously isn’t a very great idea lol. He and Grimmy also went through a phase of like being obsessed with green tea lol idk. I think if I recall correctly he also didn’t like the 1D chef cooking for him because that was mostly more wholesome “home cooking” vibes and he was into the - as you say - woo woo stuff even then. So all of that sounds like it wasn’t that yk great. But these days I think he sticks to his pescatarianism and his juice cleanses and he does his nutrient IVs when he’s on tour and stuff and when he wants something he’s craving he does just go and eat that. He’s also said he doesn’t consume any caffeine or alcohol on tour (for the most part at least idk how religious he is about it because we did see him attend some parties like during LoT and the first tour but I do buy that those are very much exception days) but he doesn’t stick to that when he’s off tour (or intend to like it’s a tour only thing to make sure he’s feeling his best and his voice is good).

With alcohol as I say like he’s said he tries not to drink on tour (and also in general I don’t see him being a regular drinker idk) and in 1D days he was obviously as he’s said repeatedly very anxious about being caught doing something very naughty so I think tried to keep it to a minimum but we also did see him going big lol and he mentioned back then he really likes straight tequila (😳😳😳 bruh) so my guess would be he used to binge and then feel badly about it and like hate himself and tell himself never again and then go big again lmao. I do think he’s in a better place with it now though and drinks when he feels like it and doesn’t hate himself for having a big night out here and there but doesn’t really feel like doing that often lol because he’s focusing on all his 🧘‍♂️ crap.

and with drugs obviously he said he was SO anxious about being caught doing any during 1D days but obviously did experiment and then I’d guess felt really guilty every time so again I think just not super healthy as a vibe. These days I think he smokes weed now and then/eats edibles and well likely has tried like medicinal doses of shit like he’s probably gone on an Ayahausca journey or whatever.

he also meditates twice a day and does yoga and does his cold water swimming on top of gymming and he’s said a lot of that is for his mental health rather than for his looks so idk I think being so focused on that kinda makes the eating/drinking/substances a lot easier because if he knows he wants to go and do a polar plunge in the morning idk if he wants to go and do that hungover and I think he knows the polar plunge will make HIM feel better than a couple glasses of wine lol.

[bullshit-bulltrue]

so i'm not asking for like a WHOLE blog post about ur school day on friday but PLEASE TELL ME EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED WITH BEN .

I HAVE NO LOVE LIFE AND I AM DEPENDING ON YOURS.

GOOD OR BAD, I NEED THE DEETAILS

"love life" babygirl no it's far from that 💀

but since i do like talking about him, here you go <3

☆ Hawk Talk 8/18/23 ☆ (partially)

soo um i think friday was the day i went to breakfast?? yeah

anddd i saw him but he didn't see me 👍

umm when did i see him again ..?

*thinky face*

oh duh

english

so we finished up testing !! or was that wednesday? um no i'm pretty sure it was Friday lol

so when we finished testing we did our Acheive3000

and that's an application we use for out lexile thingy btw

and we each got a sticker when we finished but i forgot to tell the teacher know i finished so i didn't get a sticker :'(

and then Garrett (Ben's short bestie) kept trying to put his sticker on Ben 💀

at one point he acted like he was gonn side hug him but ben knew that he just put a sticker on his back

and then he put the sticker on my chromebook and did two thumbs up and this cute lil facial expression and then he said "good job"

kinda like these:

and then he kicked me 😭😭

it was to get my attention bc i was paying attention to the teacher and he wanted me to look over at Garrett (he had just got sent to the back table i believe and he looked like a kicked puppy 😭😭)

so we both started laughing so hard and i kicked him back bc yeah

and then we got into a footsie fight lmao

i didn't realize till today when i looked down at my legs when i was changing in the morning but this boy gave me a ton of bruises 😭😭

i have a really fucking high pain tolerance though so i'm bot surprised i didn't realize it

and same thing on my shoulder

on our way back from lunch (i'll talk abt that in a min) he was being a goof and when his water bottle was swaying he held it up to my shoulder and he mimicked the sound of it hitting me like that one gong instrument so from the time we enter the hallway, to going to my locker, u just hear him going "gong gong gong" lol. and then i looked at my shoulder bc it felt sore (still does) and i had this big ass bruise 💀 but at least the bruise is yellow

he's silly

so anyway

back to during lunch

i had lanie on my right side in the lunch room and there was plenty of space for Ben to sit on the right of her

but he squeezed in next to me instead, and then lanie gave me the 👀

anyway since he looked uncomfy and like he was about to fall off the bench bc his friend kept pushing him so me and lanie scooted over so he could sit properly lol

and then later on during PE, me and lanie got to talking

and that somewhat lead to boy talk with her, Olivia, and amelia

aaand

olivia and amelia think he's weird and i'm like so what 😃

at least he ain't a basic bitch

he has whimsy unlike you <3

nah i didn't actually say that

and they're cool chicks

but yk just annoys me the wrong way when people use weird as an insult

umm so since u only asked for the Boy Talk™️ , there it is <3

and now i'm gonna type up the hawk talk for today lol

[jalapenobee]

do you make your bed?

i mean i straighten my blanket in the morning? but otherwise there's not much to "make"

favorite number?

27. it's satisfying...

job?

unemployed 😎 hoping to find one soon though (preferably in marine biology or music)

if you could go back to school, would you?

still in school but no. can't i just magically retain information (like sigma) and skip class?

can you parallel park?

can't drive for that matter

a job you had that would surprise people?

haven't had one yet TvT

do you think aliens are real?

okay. not a vehement believer in either side but if aliens are confirmed to be real then i don't wanna be that pretentious guy all "aLiEnS aReNt rEaL" so. i do think there is a chance we are looking for the wrong thing when we want to look for aliens? like they may not need oxygen, water, e.t.c. so...

can you drive a manual car?

like a regular car? no?

guilty pleasure?

hard copy manga. currently i have four books (two of bsd dead apple, one of given, and the sxf fanbook) but i wanna get more...

tattoos?

none. yet :)

favorite color?

two actually. sage green and whatever red you call it that i use for lineart (vaguely like period blood color but if i say that to people they look at me weird). also any light-grayish shade of purple

favorite type of music?

AHHHHH MUSIC QUESTION okay one thing abt me is that i love music. my one and true love and i listen to too many genres to keep track of. but...rock ballads maybe? those tend to be my favorites or really anything heartfelt or aggressive i'd vibe with

do you like puzzles?

LOVE puzzles

phobias?

nope :)

favorite childhood sport?

hmmm basketball i think. i used to play in the driveway in the summer but then yk it got hot and everything and i just got tired of it

do you talk to yourself?

only when i'm reciting something (paragraph, formula, e.t.c.)

what movie(s) do you adore?

my neighbor totoro...it's so close to my heart ahhh

coffee or tea?

ummm both. either drink i've made hot but cooled before i could drink it really pisses me off though (although less for tea)

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

I DON'T REMEMBER i think though, when i was like eight or nine i wanted to be a lawyer (don't anymore lmao)

wooo here we go @vee-is-a-clown @klance-daydreams @dapperenby13 @numerous-bees-in-a-skin-suit @rachi-roo @reikurusu @jumpscaregoose @circuslemon @autistic-ranpo @lesbiankordian and anyone else :D

Ask Meme

I was tagged by @rosencrantzsguildenstern for this ask meme, so why not!

Do you make your bed?

Uhhhh well. Sort of. I definitely make it any time I expect I'm going to have company, but on a weekday when I'm the only one in my dorm room? Nah. I didn't make it when I had a roommate either unless I thought she was going to have company (but she never warned me in advance for that so LMAO)

What's your favorite number?

I'm a lucky 7 kind of gal, but I also really jive with 36 and 81. My factors of 9 <3 <3 <3 If I have to pick one, it's always going to be 7 though

What is your job?

Right now, I work for the US Department of Agriculture! I've worked some other random jobs though, such as a waitress at a high-end retirement home and an assistant at a local hospital

If you could go back to school, would you?

Yes. Absolutely. I would reduce how many classes I take (because haha I am at 22 credit hours right now :')) but I love learning! I don't love all the pomp and circumstance of academia, but I've considered becoming a teacher several times as a career option and I actually have taught in a professional setting before. School's a love of mine that even all the stresses I've put myself through hasn't fully been killed

Can you parallel park?

Yep! My city almost never requires it because it's a newer one and street parking is only really used in our tiny downtown or in neighborhoods, but I can do it!

A job you had that would surprise people?

Uhhhh I think my current job is that, LOL! But even then, once I explain the details of my job, people seem to think it fits me pretty well :)

Do you think aliens are real?

I think that somewhere in space, there's something that could be considered life, but we can't agree if viruses are living, so I doubt that whatever could be "life" in another part of space would fit our current definitions! Evolution is already fucked enough as is, so accidentally going down any path that resembles what happened on Earth feels pretty unlikely to me

Can you drive a manual car?

Yes! I practiced with my grandpa's old car, though I also stalled a few times LOL so I'm not GOOD, but I can do it! With more practice I think I would be fine

What's your guilty pleasure?

I'm not really sure? I'm not really guilty about any of my pleasures because they're all pretty vanilla? In my household it's definitely mayo though. No one in my household likes mayo and I usually have to deal with Bullying of the highest degree if I want to use it when I'm eating with my sister and parents

Tattoos?

Nope! And I don't want to get them either. I have an irrational thing of permanently adding things to my body to the point where I had a surgery to remove a part of my flesh instead of having a tiny metal rod inserted in me. Tattoos are filed under the same "body modification" ick mentally

Favorite Color?

A soft lilac! I also really like the darker, desaturated greens, but purple is my eternal love

Favorite type of music?

Things that lean more into the rock side of things! I like harsher sounds, faster tempos, that sort of thing, but also my music taste is literally all over the place. It really really REALLY is a case-by-case basis but if I had to say anything, most Paramore songs are ones I love

Do you like puzzles?

It depends on the puzzle! I like logic and math puzzles, and mysteries are fun as well, but a jigsaw is something I'll only really do if I'm with friends or exceedingly bored

Any phobias?

Well, there's that body modification one I mentioned earlier! I also have an irrational fear of beetles and an even more irrational fear of specifically dropping a kitchen knife into my foot! Yowch!

Favorite childhood sport?

I didn't really play sports as a kid, but if I had to pick one, probably swimming? My current favorite sport is definitely dancing, though (folk and ballroom!)

Do you talk to yourself?

Yep! I use both the singular and plural first person pronouns "I" and "We" when I talk to myself. Generally, I use "I" when I'm more passively thinking, and "We" when I'm being metacognizant.

What movie(s) do you adore?

Back to the Future (1985) by Robert Zemekis my BELOVED!!!! I cannot recommend it enough, and I made a quote from it my senior quote in high school. I also really love The Sixth Sense (1999) and Tangled (2010)

Coffee or tea?

Tea, as I have yet to ever drink coffee! But when I drink my tea, I like it unsweetened and iced

First thing you wanted to be when growing up?

First thing I remember was, ironically, a teacher! Some things don't change <3

I'm gonna tag @riinsanity @0mega-x @koi0boi @always-a-joyful-note and @yukimomodivorce but anyone can join in!

[matsur1]

Hanma x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing (as always 🙄), and yk,,,, more fluff bc it's my job to deliver fluff [Not proofread btw]

Word Count: 651 (not a lot but I swear it's cute,,,, I think😀)

Hanma was a “time leaper” and Kisaki was his said “trigger.” You and Hanma were married in the future that he is in as of the moment. Knowing he’s still a gangster ‘til this day, you were used to him going out at night.

Drinking with Kisaki late at night, Hanma was drunk and out of his mind. Thankfully, he still knew he was married to a gorgeous woman like you. Kisaki was also drunk but he still was a bit sober. At least, sober enough to tell Hanma to go home to you since it was very late now. “Hah??? If I get home –“ Hanma almost hit his head on the table because he was wiggling around, “- will you drink all this leftover booze?” Hanma asked. “Of course, who do you think am I to leave all this booze? That’d be a waste,” Kisaki answered. “Then I won’t go home ‘til we finish all this, you needa share it with me you greedy man.” He argued. Kisaki clicked his tongue, “Fine, if you leave now, I’ll leave too. Now go back to your damn wife.” Hanma scoffed, “Alright, deal then,” he shook Kisaki’s hand causing Kisaki to widen his eyes. “You bastard! What are you doi-“ Kisaki cut off. 

Hanma now was in the streets. It was dark and quiet but he supposed it was about dawn. Too quiet that it makes his ear ring. But even in his past body, he was still drunk. When he finally recognized where he was, he unconsciously walked towards your apartment that you both shared before you were both married. Your apartment has been as it is since you were a student so gladly you actually lived there even in the past timeline. 

Quietly entering your apartment, he sat down on the couch and tried to get sober. It didn’t help though, but he thought he was slowly getting sober when in truth, he was just slowly falling asleep. That was until he heard your door open. He sat properly, trying to pretend to be sober. 

You woke up and got thirsty so you decided to go to the kitchen to grab some water. Wiping your eyes, trying to fully wake yourself up, you saw someone on the couch. “WHAT THE FUCK” you shout whispered, managing to process that if you screamed too loud, your neighbors would file another noise complaint. “Good Morning Darlin-“ he spoke, slurring his words. “Who the fuck are you- wait is your head bleeding? NO WAIT WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE” you asked. Hanma slowly understood the “head bleeding” part so he lifted his right hand to check his head. When he felt a wet part, he checked his hand only to see he actually had blood on his head. “I’m fine but how do you not know me, sweetheart?” he asked in a pout. “You even told me your vows,” he continued. “I’m sorry?- What vows?” You were very confused. “Look, I’ll help you with your bleeding head but after, you probably should go home to your ACTUAL wife because mister- you got the wrong person.” You continued, grabbing the aid kit above the kitchen cabinet. You slowly approached him, opening the kit to grab a cotton and poured some betadine. You turned on the lamp near the couch so you could see where his wound was coming from. Getting tweezers and picking the cotton up to slowly pat the cotton on his wound. Hanma closing his eyes in a way you could tell it stung. You felt bad and spoke before you even thought, “I’m sorry, just a bit more and it’ll be done.” Hanma opened his eyes and took a close peak at you. He whispered to himself, “Wrong timeline. Whoops.” 

“Hmm? What was that-?” you softly spoke. “Nothing. Just looks like the future would be sooo much better this time,” He chuckled.

© Matsuri

[lunaastoir]

fluff/relationships w the liyue crew

characters included: xiao, childe, beidou, and zhongli

ik i forgot ningguang i promise i’ll include her in part 2, i just didn’t have time :(

all x a gn! reader 

my liyue babies :,) ft. ningguang in spirit

an: i was listening to my soft playlist (more like listening to cupid’s chokehold on repeat, no i am not basic 🔪) and i thought some fluff headcanons would be cute w these sweet people

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

xiao

ok so no surprise that he hates liyue harbor

he hates anything w a lot of people in it so he prefers to stay at wangshu inn tyvm

but by contrast, you love liyue harbor sm (it’s gorgeous i mean c’mON)

you go there often to retrieve your commissions in order to stay closer to xiao (liyue harbor is closer than mondstadt he argues but you’re well aware that they’re both equally far away)

so if anyone asked, xiao would absolutely refuse to go to the harbor like i hate people??? why would you even ask???

but,,,he’s so sOFT for you

if you asked??? he would agree in a heartbeat

but since he’s >:( angsty boy, he makes you think that he won’t go even when he’s already decided that he’s coming w you

he puts up the “if you so require, then i guess i will assist you with your travels in liyue harbor” but in reality he would definitely have said yes even without the almond tofu

while he hates the harbor, he thinks that with you anything is bearable :,) simp

you take him to see xinyan to vibe w her music and you can tell he really enjoys it

even tho he’s like 🕴 the entire time, you see the softer look on his face and the very slight smile on his lips as he listens to the music and watches the crowd

so so so cute very soft for him

i do see him as a subtly touchy person in public like brushing the hair off your face, swiping his thumb across your cheek, or gently pulling your hair back when you have a plate of food in your hands 

the type to link your pinkies together - he claims it’s so you don’t get lost but yk better 

after the concert is done you take him to that one waypoint near mt. tianheng and the both of you just watch the city lights and the way they reflect beautifully on the water surrounding the harbor 

personal headcanon that xiao absolutely loves stargazing since he believes the stars are the one true constant in his life especially since he’s experienced so much loss (basically they’ll never leave him god i hate myself why do i make everything SAD)

mini headcanon off of that - he doesn’t stargaze with people,,, like ever 

it’s something he loves to do alone so the fact that he lets you stargaze w him and even allows you to shift your head onto his lap while you watch the sky is a huge deal 

he loves it when you softly whisper abt how your day was or something you saw that made you laugh 

he just loves hearing your voice, it automatically calms the voices in his head 

you absolutely ADORE when he has flowers in his hair especially cecilias (cecillias? ceccillias? idfk) and you make a point whenever you go to mondstadt to pick a fresh batch of cecilias just for xiao while enlisting the help of your favorite bard  

these soft moments on the mountain are usually when you’ll sweetly tuck in a flower or two in his hair while laughing 

he’ll blush fiercely while looking away but will tuck the cecilias in securely as you’re unable to do so due to the position you’re in on his lap

all in all - this was not meant to come out as a date idea but we’re going w it 

this is so cute xiao pls let me put flowers in your hair sweet boy <3

childe

god, loml, my favorite war criminal after eren yeager 

there’s never a dull moment w this man - if you wanted peace and quiet, why the hell are you dating him bestie???

is the type of person to yell out “Y/N, i can’t believe i ran into you here!” if he sees you somewhere even tho you explicitly told him you were going to be here in the morning (ik you have a good memory ajax don’t lie to me 😐)

i don’t see him as being obnoxious w pda unlike someone else kaeya but he would definitely participate (think: handholding, cheek kisses, an arm around your shoulders)

loves it when he comes home and sees you in an apron cooking 

domesticity just makes his heart melt so you can be sure that your face will be peppered w a lot of kisses afterwards <3 

absolutely ADORES it when you trace his scars absentmindedly when you’re lying down or even when you’re having dinner in public  

he’s been far from his family for so long that small acts of mindless affection like this really make his heart happy 

you have him drunk on your love luv haha see what i did there 

he will let you put makeup on him. no i do not take criticism ⛄️

he already has on lowkey thick eyeliner,,, don’t be shy put some more bestie 

he will shamelessly go out in public w whatever you made him wear - doesn’t really give a shit even tho he has a reputation to maintain 

speaking of reputation,,, yk his mask? yeah that one - the red hair accessory that he has on his head

well on the mask, he attached a little charm the both of you got together on your first date during lantern rite 

it’s this adorable fox that we all shamelessly kill for meat and he placed it so it anchored to the side of his mask so when he fights it isn’t a nuisance or anything (does that make sense??? i hope it does) 

his subordinates notice and while they’re stoic around childe, behind closed doors they do whisper abt the mysterious person who’s captured his heart 

not so mysterious anymore when they literally see him cling onto you during his daily patrol around the harbor 💀

it’s ok tho he’s lucky he’s cute 

bestie,,, pls give him a neck massage 

i just KNOW he’s tense there idk something abt the way he carries himself just screams “my neck hurts so bad someone pls help me i would ask but my pride literally will not let me”

so give him a neck massage :) don’t worry tho he’ll definitely return the favor and then some

LOVES TICKLE FIGHTS 

he’s obsessed w them,,, it’s just the faces you make??? he can’t get enough 

he loves seeing the pure joy and the brief fear (he’s kind of a sadist) in your eyes before he attacks you w those damned hands 

it reminds him a lot of simpler times w his siblings and he’s happy he brings you joy and makes you forget your worries - at least for a little while 

all in all, he’s a good boy and no i will not tolerate childe slander 🔪 kaeya slander tho 😏

beidou

you pulled beidou??? wow everyone’s jealous (pulled as in literally from the banner and in this context but no i do not have beidou and no i definitely do not want to talk abt it)

god made beidou and zhongli just so all of us could have a sexuality crisis 

anyways, being w her is hard i will not lie 

not bc she isn’t a capable lover - no, quite the contrary 

she’s an amazing partner but the problem here lies in the fact that she’s almost never on land 

it’s hard working a long distance relationship but y’all love each other so it works out :,) 

when she is physically present however, expect to never be bored 

she’ll quietly fix the wrinkles on your shirt or fiddle with your fingers in her hands while she recounts her adventures out on sea 

she sometimes gets worried she bores you, however the way your eyes light up every time she tells a tale always reassures her otherwise

definitely the type to let you use her claymore if you want to learn 

she’ll provide useful tips as she tucks her hands into your sides gently, positioning you correctly so you don’t hurt yourself 

miss girl is an AMAZING cook 

i just know she cooks the best meals - i mean she’s friends w xiangling after all 

whenever she comes home from a voyage she’ll always insist on making something for you even if she’s abt to pass out 

pls tuck her into bed and promise her that she can make you something in the morning <3 the poor woman needs rest 

brings you back trinkets but they’re actually very practical 

she knows you won’t have much use for a simple charm (not that there’s anything wrong w that) but she believes you’ll like something practical more so she might get you a new engraved knife from the most recent place she’s been to 

definitely the type to surprise you when she docks 

i can imagine her anchoring her ship out a little ways from liyue harbor and rowing to the dock in order to make sure you aren’t alerted of her presence (i’m sorry the mental picture this made in my mind is SENDING ME INTO ORBIT but she means well i love you)

will take you to remote spots she’s found in her travels through liyue 

for example - the little heart shaped island and the island quest (?) that you had to use kaeya the bridge maker for in order to get to im sorry i’ll stop w the kaeya slander

she’ll get you seashell bracelets or necklaces idk why but she gives me those vIBES 

they’re super nice ones too, only the highest quality for you 

yes she’s a bruh girl but i also see her as someone who would enjoy intimate moments like watching the sunset or something 

“yo wanna catch the sunset, i heard it looks sick from the jade chamber” said before ahem it yk fell from the sky

kasdjksfashfjsahf yes ofc i would love to catch the sunset w you pls come home luv

anyways, she is a woman i would give the world for 

zhongli

ok gimme a sec i need to get my gentleman mode on 

this man,,, THIS MAN 

everything w him is so soft like your entire eXISTENCE w him could go in a museum it’s that beautiful 

in the morning when he visits you, he always brings you a cup of your favorite tea and a bouquet of glaze lilies he got from madame ping

holds the door for you, pushes the chair out for you, uses a napkin and brushes sauce off your lips when you’re eating - you name something sweet, he’s done it

secretly loves it when you fuss over him 

he doesn’t like to fight but say he encountered a group of hillichurls he couldn’t avoid and promptly defeated them but ended up tearing a part of his tux(?) (is it a tux? i could not tell you)

not that big of a deal, i mean it’s a scratch, he’s a 6,000 year old god, he’s dealt w much worse 

but seeing the worried crease in your brows as you usher him to sit at the table while quickly grabbing antiseptic to clean his wound

“it’s just a scratch, my dear. do not worry i’ve dealt with much worse.”

you quietly protest abt how “yes zhongli, i understand you’re an archon and have gotten worse injuries but i’m worried about infection just please let me take care of you ok? <3″ 

when you say that he feels weird emotions,,, wdym take care of him? 

he’s always taken care of himself or been expected to take care of others as the former ruling deity of liyue so having someone else genuinely worry abt his wellbeing creates a warm feeling in his chest 

he strikes me as the type to knit you something??? idk maybe it’s the grandpa vibes but i headcanon that he would knit you a scarf for the colder weather, it’s cute 

in the privacy of your home, he really likes picking you up

he loves it when you wrap your legs around his middle while he gets up to go do the dishes or smthg 

domesticity go brrrr

if you’re into making flower crowns, he would totally have you on his lap and wordlessly hand you a glaze lily whenever you expectantly hold your hand out while weaving the flowers together 

he expects you to make the crown for yourself but when you place the crown on his head and it fits perfectly while simultaneously tucking a glaze lily behind your ear, he looks at you dumbstruck 

his mouth parts open in awe and it’s quite literally the cutest thing

you’ve broken him 

thinks it’s the sweetest thing - will keep it on his head for the whole day 

he’ll even put it in water before he sleeps so it won’t wilt and he can wear it the next day <3 

scenic picnics!! scenic picnics!! 

the type to take you to the nicest spots in liyue to chat abt the history of the land w you over a cup of tea and your favorite food (whatever you like, he doesn’t mind)

recounts the people he’s met in his long life before finishing off by saying you’re by far the best person he’s met 

zhongli strangles lovingly come home soon 

thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 

[papipopsicle]

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

[INSTAGRAM]

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y/n Humph!

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Cheryl busy being my own icon

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

[detectivehannibal]

Desk Dreams

__

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut...lol have fun.

A/N: Testing my smut writing skills I see...I tried to weasel Will into this, but I’d hardly consider this a Will oneshot. I struggled so hard with this smh.

Requested by: @no-homo-hank

Prompt: also.. if i may request something sm*tty. personally i think your writing is so good. soo maybe something in his office yk yk like if the reader has a *sexy* dream about him,, and she has to tell him,, idk idk and only if you’re comfortable with it ofc! thanks :)

Word Count: 1,697

“Is it so wrong to change things up a little?”

__

You couldn’t get it out of your head. The images, the sounds, the touches, the smells. You had tried to shake it off all morning. You had brewed an extra strong cup of coffee hoping to rid your conscious of the less than appropriate dream from the night before, but to no avail. You never really had dreams, and you especially didn’t have such scandalous ones. On top of that, you definitely never had sex dreams about your therapist. 

Sure, you found him attractive in more ways than just his striking intelligence. However, the thought of anything that wasn’t purely professional had never crossed your mind. You knew what Hannibal thought about dreams. He had mentioned to you before that they are often a crucial tell-tale of a person’s mental state most of the time. That was the part you couldn’t figure out.

What did having such a racy dream mean for you?

You pondered the thought on your way to your session. You desperately wished that you didn’t have to go today, but you knew you’d be questioned about it next session if you canceled. You entered his office’s waiting room, there were no other patients at that time. You weren’t surprised, considering most people tried to push for the afternoon appointments. You took your normal seat, knowing that Dr. Lecter and Will Graham would be finished shortly. Will Graham’s appointments were always before yours, and you always noted how Will always looked as if his brain had been completely picked apart when he exited.

You often wondered what sort of things they talked about.

Sure enough, the door opened a few minutes later, Hannibal seeing Will out of his office. 

“I will see you soon, Will.” Hannibal said to Will, who had pretty much already ended the conversation. 

Will spotted you waiting and actually offered a smile. He didn’t know you outside of the waiting room, but well enough to know your name and speak to you.

“Hello, [Y/N],” He greeted, leaning in slightly; “He’s acting strangely today.” He whispered.

You gave him a confused look, but returned the greeting before he dashed off and out of the building. What did he mean by “acting strangely”? There was only one way to find out. 

“[Y/N], are you ready?” Hannibal asked, inviting you into his office.

You nodded, entering swiftly. When you passed by him, a familiar scent enriched your nose. The smell of his cologne was exquisite and suddenly sparked your memory of the dream from the night before. So that was what you smelled in the dream. You had never paid attention to it before. 

Speaking of the dream, it was suddenly all you could think about. You sat in one of his chairs, immediately striking Hannibal as out of character. He decided to hold off on mentioning it yet. 

“Good morning. How are you?” He asked, sitting in the chair in front of you.

Your leg bounced anxiously as you found yourself in a trance, raking over his features. Had his hair always been so nice? Were his eyes always so enticing? You caught his gaze, waiting for you to give an answer.

“Huh? Oh! I’m doing well.” You said, beginning to feel a heat creep over your cheeks.

His hand briefly went up to his collar to readjust his tie. You basically stopped yourself from salivating. His hands were...so perfect. 

“You’re nervous.” He announced.

You denied. You denied hard. You would not let him through to you today. You’d die of embarrassment.

“Nope. Not nervous,” You said, visibly nervous; “What makes you say that?”

His expression was calculating. He was soaking you up like a sponge to sink water, taking everything in to be squeezed out again.

“For starters, you’re sitting. You usually walk around during our sessions,” He noted; “Secondly, your entire demeanor is tense.” 

Your leg stopped bouncing and you slowly stood from your chair, you began to try and walk as you normally did, but it ended up being more of a pace. 

“Is it so wrong to change things up a little?” You asked as casually as possible.

He looked so good in that light blue shirt. 

“No, but there’s always a reason for such change.” He bantered.

You shot him a look. It was hard to get anything past him. 

“I just...” You tried to come up with an excuse, but turned up short. 

He waited patiently, his gaze never leaving yours. You sighed in defeat. 

“Dreams are normal, right?” You asked, preparing to bite the bullet.

He nodded simply.

“Certainly.” 

You chewed your lip in thought, careful with how you approached this. You fiddled with the hem of your sweater.

“I had a rather interesting dream last night,” You confessed; “It wasn’t anything I had ever experienced.”

He was listening intently, not quite following what you were getting at.

“What did you dream about?” He prompted.

You felt a sudden rise in your throat. This was painful to admit.

“Well, you were in me- uh, I mean...in it.” You said, mentally cursing at yourself for your embarrassing slip up.

A wave of realization was clear on his face as he connected the dots. You wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die.

“[Y/N], I can assure you that sexual fantasy dreams are quite normal.” He said in an attempt to comfort you.

You groaned miserably, burying your face in your hands. You were humiliated. You’d have to request a different therapist. Maybe even seek out a totally different counseling practice.

“Dreams often must be explored to be understood. Tell me more about the content of this dream.” He requested calmly.

Your blood went hot. What? Why did he want to know that? You looked to him, surprised to see that he was completely serious. You rubbed your palms together nervously.

“I came in for my usual session. The energy was different. You were looking at me in a way you don’t usually,” You explained; “The conversation took a turn and...we had sex.”

His expression remained unchanged, but you weren’t close enough yet to see the fire in his eyes. He stood from his seat and took slow strides over towards you. You were sure he could hear your thumping heart.

“How was I looking at you?” He questioned, his voice thick and smooth.

That’s when you saw the riled up glaze in his eyes. A sudden wave of emotion and arousal crashed over you. This was really going to happen.

“Just like you are now.” You breathed out.

Instantly, his lips were on yours. Passionate and needy, but steady and calculated too. His hands gripped your waist, pushing you towards his desk. He shimmied you onto the cool, dark wood and allowed you to remove his suit blazer. 

Your mind was racing, but your movements were faster. You untucked his dress shirt from his pants while his fingertips worked on unbuttoning your jeans. It was a hot, heavy silence as the two of you stripped down enough to get the job done. His mouth was hot on your neck once your pants were casted aside, sucking a hickey on your most sensitive spot. 

“Dr. Lecter, I...” You trailed off, your mind too clouded with pleasure to offer any kind of sentence.

This felt so wrong, but so right at the same time. You were thankful for patient-doctor confidentiality. 

“Hannibal.” He corrected, unbuckling his belt and getting his pants down to his ankles.

Woah. First name basis. That was new. Hannibal really seemed to know his way around a woman. You found that rather shocking.

“Is this your means of dream exploration?” You joked, giving a breathy laugh.

“Something like that.” He replied.

He pulled himself from his boxers, stroking a few times before gingerly pushing himself inside of you. A synchronized moan drew from the both of you as he pushed through your walls, traveling as deep as he could go. He pushed your back down onto the desk, watching you sprawl out desperately for him.

He began with slow thrusts to allow you to adjust to his length, but hit the sweetest of spots each time he went back in. He grasped one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist so he could get a better angle. He had one hand on your throat, wrapped firmly but not uncomfortably. 

“Hannibal, please. Faster.” You begged, your tone coming out as a whine.

He hummed in response, his pace beginning to pick up. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk as the sounds of skin and rattling desk objects echoed in your ears. He admired the way your eyes glassed over in pleasure, his own forehead beginning to break out into a sweat. 

“Was this how your dream played out?” He asked, the slightest bit of strain in his voice; “On my desk...in the middle of a session.”

You nodded in response, but that wasn’t enough.

“Use your words.” He ordered, slamming back into you again.

“Yes.” You groaned out.

“Good girl.” He praised, moving his pace even faster.

This wasn’t how he’d usually pleasure a woman. He preferred something a little more timed out and slow, but you needed something spontaneous and fast. He could feel it radiating off of you. Your mind bounced back and forth from the dream to this present moment. This was too good to be true.

Your legs tightened around his waist, signaling to him that you were awfully close. He himself felt a twitch, looks like you were going to both finish on time. He continued to pound into you, your moans relentlessly sounding out into the air. Your high-pitched, surprised gasp alerted your release, his own spilling out just a few moments later. 

Your moans and sounds dwindled into heavy breathing, your chests heaving to catch up. He collapsed onto your shaky frame, your hand resting in his hair. You could barely comprehend what had just happened. You suddenly had a whole new reason to come to therapy. Hannibal lifted his head, pride written all over his face.

“I think...we’ll pick this back up next week.”

[nebulousfishgills]

Our Reality

("In Reality," Part 2)

Request by @cuddleluv : can you PLSSSSSS make a part 2 to the “in reality” ff 😩 I’ve got idea for it too! so y/n moves on and yk gets a new lover (you could choose who lol) and Wanda realizes what she lost after she sees y/n with her new lover and tries to get her back but y/n rejects her because her new lover respects and loves her

Ahhhh I'm so glad part one was so well received! Apologies for not getting this out sooner, I've been just so busy and, being honest, was seriously debating whether or not to actually create a second part. But I've gotten a few requests for it, a new experience for me. So here you go! ❤

I chose your new partner to be Natasha because why not?

Warnings: Angst, feels, swearing, Natasha x Reader (just in case you don't vibe with that) fluff (from Natasha), like, one very brief mention of sexual ideas

ฯฯฯ

"Tasha, did something burn in here?" You asked, entering the kitchen with a wrinkled nose. Natasha's face poked out from the faint smoke coming from the oven, her hand fanning it away.

"Well, it was supposed to be cookies for your birthday, but I guess that's not happening." She said, her cheeks turning a little pink. You felt heat bloom in your chest at the sweet gesture. Your face broke out into a grin.

"Aww, Tasha, you didn't have to do that!" You said.

"I almost wish I hadn't; it smells awful in here." Nat replied sheepishly.

"Well, at least you tried. That's more than enough."

Your mind wandered back to the events of a few months ago and your nasty breakup with Wanda at your word choice. She hadn't even tried to make an effort with you. You were just some disposable girlfriend to her. Something to distract her.

For weeks you had wallowed in self pity before deciding to get yourself back out there again. Slowly, sure. And you certainly weren't going to prey on a down on their luck possible partner for food and fucks. You were bigger than Wanda in that sense, at least.

After yet another failed date, you were walking home with your heels in your hands and dirt on your feet. You could keep your head held high and look around more.

Someone grabbed for your bag and started running off with it. You screamed after them, calling for someone to help. You were running out of breath not long after, ready to say goodbye to your possessions when the thief was suddenly knocked down. A woman with bright red hair had punched him in the face and sent him to the ground with a roundhouse kick. You approached her as she picked up the bag.

"Is this yours?" She queried.

"Y-yes. Thank you." You replied.

"No problem. But..."

"But?"

"Well, I saved your purse. So it's only fair we get coffee later." The redhead smirked at you. "Unless you would rather not."

"No, of course. It's the least I can do...?"

"Natasha."

"Natasha." You repeated. "The coffee place around the corner from here? Tomorrow at 9?"

"Sounds like a date."

And that's how you had met Natasha. Part of you had been worried remembering how you had first met Wanda after a bad morning. Well, having a bad evening could mean something different, you had figured. Sure enough, you and Nat had met for coffee and hit it off almost immediately. Now you both had a quaint little apartment together and you honestly hadn't ever felt happier.

Well, maybe you had been when you were still with Wanda, but those memories had soured knowing what she had really thought of you.

"Well, the cookies are a bust. How about we go to the cupcake place down the street and grab a few?" Nat suggested.

"That's the best alternative you could have suggested, Tasha. I'll grab my things."

"Okay, but I'm buying. It's still your birthday."

"If you insist."

***

"How about six lemon and six (your favorite cupcake flavor)?" You said.

"Sure thing. The order should be ready in a few minutes." The cashier said, jotting down the order and delivering the ticket to the back as Nat handed over the cash for the dozen cakes.

"I'm gonna go use the restroom, (Y/N). You can wait outside and I'll grab the cakes when I finish." Nat said, kissing your forehead.

"Okay."

The little bell dinged a few times as you exited the store, taking in the fresh air. The thought of the cupcakes made your stomach rumble the more moments passed. You pulled out your phone to distract yourself while you waited.

"(Y/N)?" A voice said from your left. You looked up at the direction of the voice and your breath immediately hitched.

Wanda.

"Oh. Hello, Wanda." You said curtly, returning your gaze to your screen.

"How... are you doing?" Wanda asked you.

"Like you care." You mumbled. Wanda didn't hear the comment, standing in silence for a moment.

"Okay, (Y/N), I have the cupcakes." Nat said, coming out of the store with a lavender box in her hand.

"Thanks, Tasha." You said, pecking her lips. Maybe this was petty; Nat wasn't big on PDA, but Wanda was standing right there and... it was too good to pass up.

"You're... Dating Nat?" Wanda asked.

"Yes. And?"

"...nothing, I guess."

"Exactly."

Wanda seemed to notice the box in Nat's hand (the redhead analyzing the conversation carefully so she could pull you away if need be), reading the label on the lid.

"Oh? What's the occasion?" Wanda asked, testing the waters. You inhaled sharply, turning on your heel to face Wanda.

"I would have been more surprised if you had actually remembered my birthday, all things considered. It's not like you cared anyways.

"(Y/N), wait--"

"February 16th, Wanda. That's the day you were born. That's right, I actually put in an effort to remember." You snapped.

"I... I... Y/N, listen, I--"

"Oh, here it comes. Wanda's Pity Party. Well, go ahead. Say what you have to." You folded your arms and stared at Wanda like a mad bull. The brunette bit her lip and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

"I... look, I realize that I was being wildly insensitive and I should never have strung you along like that. I understand that and I deeply apologize. I was hoping that we might be able to move past this and... maybe be friends?" She said quietly. At this, you had to laugh.

"Friends? It's gonna take a lot more than that to even get close to friends, Wanda." You said haugtily. Then, you finally sighed. "I appreciate at least a small apology, though. But I don't ever see myself forgiving you."

"Y/N--" Wanda reached her hand out, but you batted it away.

"If you ever try to touch me again, I swear to God I'll--"

"Y/N, sweetheart, I think we should go." Natasha intervened before things could get worse. You glared at Wanda before walking back over to Nat and allowing her to place an arm around your shoulders. You glanced back at Wanda when you both started walking away. She looked crestfallen standing in the middle of the sidewalk. As much as you wanted to feel bad for her, you couldn't. Choosing to put on a brave face while you wiped your tears, you pulled out one of the cupcakes from the box in Nat's hand.

It was still your birthday after all. You would at least try to make it a good one.

ฯฯฯ

Hope you enjoyed this, cuddleluv (and everyone else who had been asking about it)!

As always, requests are open, so send them in!