#and while i do feel like this has always been the case ive noticed it a lot more recently

[butteredfrogs]

im just gonna say whats on my mind feel free to ignore this post its kinda petty but i just have to let it out

[semisolidmind]

So, in your college au, assuming catnap does end up murdering y/n, why? for what reason would the prototype ask for y/n's execution?, also how would dogday and the others feel? does dogday ever find out who murdered y/n or if he was even murdered? are they just reported missing? does catnap get away with it?, and if he doesn't and dogday ends up finding out, what's his reaction towards his brother's actions? Sorry if this was long I got questions and they need answers😭

ive been thinking about it, and i think that the prototype (which is a demonic entity in this au) wouldn't really have a good reason to command catnap kill y/n.

y/n is good to catnap. you'll see after i finally draw him, but cat is skinny. mans forgets to feed himself, and the red smoke drug throws his mindfulness and metabolism all outta wack. y/n, good friend that they are, reminds catnap to eat. they'll bring him food that they make. they let him "steal" food from their plate at lunch time. (dogday, being a good brother, does these things too, but it's kinda his job so it doesn't make as big of an impact).

the "angel" is keeping his executioner functioning when he can't, so the prototype shouldn't have a reason to want them dead. unless, perhaps, he thought that they were making the executioner soft. that's not the case (he does his job just fine regardless of any growing attachments), but if it were and catnap was slacking...

the prototype would take over. he'd have his acolytes send catnap a very high dosage of the red smoke drug, allowing the demon to take hold of him fully. catnap would black out.

the next morning, he startles awake in bed to the sound of his brother's cry of anguish. he goes into the kitchen to see dogday clutching his phone to one ear, hunched over and crying. the canid can't speak through his tears for a long while. catnap stands awkwardly, waiting for him to speak as the dread creeps up his spine.

catnap's heart stops with dogday's stuttered admission of what has him so upset; y/n is dead. the police found them this morning.

the feline says nothing, does nothing, but feels the sting in his eyes, tears on his face, and the impact of his brother's arms solidly embracing him.

why...why would the prototype do this? there was no reason to kill the angel, they hadn't done anything wrong, they weren't in the way, hadn't crossed him, there shouldn't have...

he doesn't understand.

when he goes to the bathroom later to freshen up, catnap notices the small flecks of blood under his claws. he feels like throwing up.

but he doesn't. he washes the blood away, and leaves the bathroom.

catnap remains as silent as he always has. he says nothing when he and dogday are inevitably questioned by the police (as two people who were close to y/n), the grief (and the prototype's voice) rendering him unable to even write out a response. they let him go, accepting his alibi. he was home all evening, of course.

he attends the funeral in a daze. he stands and watches the casket be lowered into the ground, far away from his body. he can still feel the fog of the prototype's influence hovering in the back of his mind.

for the first time in a long time, catnap's faith in his god is shaken.

———

dogday is never the same after y/n's death. the light in his eyes is gone. after the funeral, he isolates himself, only leaving to attend class and complete errands. he barely speaks to his friends, though they continue to visit him and offer their support.

eventually, each of the critters is murdered by catnap at the behest of the prototype. these murders are completed by a much colder and less caring catnap, who, after y/n's death, has no mercy left to spare (the prototype takes advantage of his vessels' grief to take further control of him).

dogday's reaction to each death becomes angrier and angrier.

he's wanted to find the killer ever since the string of murders started, but now he's searching with a single-minded purpose.

he gets better at wielding a pistol, better at wielding a hunting knife...he takes self defense and fighting classes. dogday slowly turns himself into a weapon.

dogday finally figures out where the cult is hiding. an abandoned mine system in a nature reserve a short drive away from town, converted into a "holy site" and the place where the cult sacrifices their victims. he drives out there to confront their executioner.

when he finds out that it's catnap, his own little brother...it's too late for sentimentality. his friends are gone. the love of his life is gone. countless others have lost their lives to this... this thing wearing his brother's skin.

at this point, the prototype has almost fully possessed catnap. the transference into the felines' body is almost complete, and during this time he is most vulnerable...but still incredibly powerful.

the fight between the dog and cat is climactic and bloody. a clash of claws, knives, and a struggle for dogday's gun. the forest floor beneath the struggle is spattered with blood, both men covered in open wounds.

it's a close battle, but catnap, despite being nearly fully under the prototype's influence, breaks the hold long enough to allow himself to be killed.

it's the least he can do, after all the trouble he's caused.

dogday pulls the trigger. a clean shot through the heart. killing catnap kills the prototype.

dogday glares down at the body that once housed his little brother. there is nothing of him in the battered corpse before him now... aside from the small, satisfied smile on his muzzle.

dogday finally allows himself to break down. he sobs over the many great losses he's suffered. but...but he has to get out of there. the cult members will be there any minute, and he can't be there when they do. he calls from a campsite phone booth to report catnap's body, and leaves it in the woods.

dogday does his best to recover.

months pass. with their god dead, activity from the cult peters out.

[pleaktale]

aahh hello! i hope you're well ^^

ive been having a bit of a rough time personally, if you're comfortable with it could you write ekko (or hobie honestly i love them both) just. comforting a reader having issues with self worth/abandonment problems?

if not that's totally okay :0

I love this request so much AHHH!! Thank you anon, I hope this can bring some comfort to you, made it real sweet just in case <3 (chose Ekko because I was so excited to write something about him!!) Word count: 1.1k Warnings: Reader has low self steem, fear of abandonment, questionings Tags: Ekko x best friend!gn!Reader, hurt/comfort, Ekko being the best leader ever, fluff, tw self worth issues, tw death talks?, mention of Y/N once, Reader is described as shorter than Ekko, Reader and Ekko are adults in the Firelights Enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Cleaning at the Firelights base was usually your thing, let it be dusting off the shelves of the small library, or organizing once again the plants around the area with the kids, you never really went out for the battles. You couldn’t for a couple of reasons, the number one being Ekko’s protective self scared of anything happening to you.

So you accepted your obligations at the place you now call home. It wasn’t bad, you always chatted with others, helped out with the food, took care of the children when needed, it was pretty much a peaceful life despite the moments you had to help out mending your people from the battles.

But something still gnawed at your soul. A feeling you tried to keep to yourself because it wasn’t really worth discussing it with others, they had bigger problems, right?

That may be true in a certain point of view, but Ekko could see right through you. Being friends for so long can give you that kind of power over the other. So his eyes kept glancing at you while you dusted off the new books he brought from the last patrol, noticing the tension on your shoulders.

“You’re not talkin’ today,” Ekko pointed out, taking a subtle glance at you before turning the page of the book he took to flip out. His voice echoing in the quiet place did have you opening your eyes a little more, pulling you out the train of thoughts you were currently drowning into.

“I thought you were reading,” you reply back, placing the book back on the shelf and turning to face him, his expression of “spill it” making your shoulders slump. “What now? Can’t have a quieter day any more?”

Ekko chuckles, watching you go back to your task, “Not when I’m here.” His boots clank into the hardwood floor as he walks towards you, taking the book from your hands and placing it at the higher shelf which you rolled your eyes at.

“You can’t keep doing this just because I’m the only other adult you’re taller than,” you huff out, which he smirks at before glancing back down at you, hands by his sides but gingerly making their way to yours. “Yes, I can. Now come on, I know the quiet you.”

You sigh, looking down at the book in your hands, a copy of a fairy tale. “It’s just…” your eyes try to avoid his, but a single glance and your courage is out of your lungs. “Sorry, I– I shouldn’t bother you with dumb things.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ekko called out, pulling you back by the arm gently as you tried to sneak away from him, his caring eyes over you, “who said anything 'bout it being dumb? I asked you, not the other way around.”

You stare at him, big eyes trying to make sense of what he’s saying. Yes, it did make sense, but how can you change your mind in such a short time after thinking like this your whole life?

“Am I enough here, Ekko?” you ask quietly, eyes fluttering down, away from him. The question fell out of your lips like a fishbone being ripped out from your throat, but his warm hands in your arms brought you back to reality.

“You are more than enough, Y/N,” his fingers slid down until they reached your hand, intertwining with your fingers. “Why do you ask that?” he breathed out the question, not really understanding where did you come from with it, you were one of his foundations, being by his side since childhood. Even after everything that happened to your lives.

“It’s just that-” you stop yourself, gathering your thoughts before you become a rambling mess of unresolved feelings. You breathe in, and let it out, just like Ekko taught you before. “I’m just here, you know? Dusting off shelves, tending crops, looking out for the kids and so on… You do so much out there, risking your life, providing for us, what if one day you just-” you take your breath once again, fingers tightening around his. “What I do… Is this really enough?”

Ekko stares at you with wide eyes. How could you not see all that you do like he does?

“You could be at your house, reading books and baking cakes,” he starts, eyes softening as he gives a squeeze back to your hand, “it’d still be more than enough, alright?” You look back up at him, eyes glossy with the tears prickling the corner of your eyes, Ekko was quick to wipe them with his thumb. The act pulls out a small smile from you.

“And there’s not gonna be ‘one day that I just-’, understand?” he continues, your heart clenching inside your ribcage at the mere thought of it happening. Ekko pulls you in, hugging your form, a hand gliding through your hair. “Either it be me leaving, me dying, me turning into a purple rat,” you laugh into his chest at the thought of him as a rat, which he smiled proudly of his accomplishment.

“You’re enough,” he says and you hold in your tears, hugging him tighter, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

You take a shaky breath in, untangling yourself from his arms just enough to see his face, his hands already on the works to get the tear stains out of your face. His mocking pout makes you chortle, “Thank you,” you say it in a small voice, leaning into his palm.

Ekko gives you a quick kiss to the forehead, looking back at you. “I’m just bringin’ you back to reality, what you do here is fundamental for all of us. If you don’t tend the crops, if you don’t look out for the kids, me and the others wouldn’t be able to be patrolling while worrying about those things. You are fundamental.”

More tears stream down your face, but they’re quite happy now, his words bringing comfort to your worrying heart. “If you keep this up I’ll cry until night time and no one’s gonna get dinner,” you joke, a cracking chuckle leaving your lips which Ekko found endearing.

“Okay, enough of emotional words, I want your food,” he jokes back, wiping the remnants of your tears from your face. “But you understand, yeah? We’re on the same page here,” Ekko asks, leaning his forehead to yours and staring at your eyes with raised eyebrows, making you laugh at the view.

“I do.” Ekko makes a small commemoration with one hand, whispering ‘yessss’ to himself. You lean back laughing, thankful for having him in your life.

Maybe Ekko was right. There’s no such thing as not being enough. You are enough for something or someone, maybe even fundamental, you just can’t know sometimes. So you shove Ekko’s words into the depths of your mind, making roots out of it. Taking his hand in yours, you both head to the farm to grab things for dinner.

Maybe that’s enough of a life, too.

your honor I love him (•ᴖ•｡) hope you liked it, until next time <3

© pleaktale

divider credits goes to @/cafekitsune

[writingoddess1125]

HI I LOVE UR EVERYTHING AND PAPA BUGGY WAS SO CUTE AND IF YOU CAN DO ONE WHERE HE HAS BABY FEVER PLEASE 🙏🙏 I'M ON MY KNEES 🙏🙏 (I love ur work it's so cute and sad, funny)

Lucky Winner to get Part 2!!

Fever pt. 2

Buggy x Femreader + Buggy Twins

Also PSA everyone Wrap it before you tap it!

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Check out the rest of the Old Men series

"YOURE PREGNANT!!"

Buggy shouted in total joy, Jumping around the room as his body looked almost like an accordion at his odd movements- you sitting there in total shock.

You'd expected that the twins would be your first and last, not that you would accidently get pregnant again especially by the same idiot who had done it by accident the first time.

Your hands went over your face as the reality of 9 months of this set in- For Fuck sakes... You could t help but giggle and hug Buggy there in the doctors office, Both happy and in total shock by this all.

After this things moved all too quickly it seemed. Of course you two told the boys who had been both excited and apprehensive- Like most kids worried the new baby would replace them or take the father they just gained from them, which had to be explained wasn't the case and you and Buggy created a gameplan to help the biys adjust. Then came the crew, who decided to have a 3 day celebration and get absolutely shit faced- Buggy included.

Why you were indeed happy, incredibly happy infant you knew what was about to come. HORRIBLE PREGNANCY SYMPTOMS! WONDERFUL-

Your first trimester was filled with morning sickness, Poor Buggy being as kind as possible as he helped clean you up and find foods that wouldn't make you puke your guts out. The twins even doing their part to find nice teas and things that smelled nice for you to also not throw up.

During this time Buggy bought so much stuff- Most likely boosting the economy of the village single handedly as he had the nursery built in the cabin and on the ship, You and the boys having a fun few weeks decorating both areas.

By your second trimester the hormones kicked in horribly, that and cramps. However that's when something magical happened as well-

Buggy and you were laying on the bed, both of you quite exhausted. Buggy was tired from dealing with the twins all day while you were tired from the baby and fatigue that was hitting you like a fleet. Since the start of your second trimester when your baby bump had become far more noticable Buggy always has his hand somewhere on your stomach rubbing the growing bump.

"I need to find a better way of tiring them out..." Buggy grumbled, You nodding in agreement leaned against the man and truthfully you both without single damns. Buggy in some pink boxers while you leaned against his naked chest in a large shirt rolled up over your stomach and underwear.

"They are still worried- Maybe take them out sailing or something? I'm sure they would enjoy tha- Oof!" You yelp as a sudden jolt hit you, clearly aimed right under Buggys palm which make both of you jump in surprise.

"What the hell was that?" He questioned as he pulled his palm away from you quickly and looked at your stomach. You shifting and rubbing the exposed skin smiling at him.

"They kicked, ive been feeling 'em move but not kick yet. Here I'm sure they will give you another little kick" You say calmly. Buggy sitting infront of you quickly and placing his palms back on your skin, You shifting his palms to the perfect spot before another jolt ran through you and Buggy giggled like a child at this.

"Thats so weird feeling!"

His eyes sparkled at this as he sat infront of you rubbing your stomach and feeling his child move under his palm and occasionally kick. It was a truly precious moment for the both of you.

As for the final trimester... Pregnancy was never too kind to anyone- Especially you. It wasn't with the twins and it sure wasn't now-

Leaned against the counter you glared hard at Buggy- 60 damn days you're ass! Try 8 fucking months trapped in this God forsaken cabin with your mentally unstable partner, two 12 year old boys and your bladder being utterly destroyed by little feet.

Oh and of course- THE GOD DAMN CREW THAY DECIDED THAT THEY WANTED TO STAY WITH THEIR FEARLESS CAPTIAN TILL THE 'VACATION' WAS OVER!

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Buggy questioned feeling the heat of your glare on his skin.

"I-..." You wanted to start Biting his head off but truthfully he had done nothing, you figured you were just emotional to the max at this point and the cramping didn't help.

"...I'm in pain-" You admit with a sigh, Buggy setting down his drink and walking to you calmly as he looked you over like he could spot your pain.

"Your stomach looks different" He said calmly, You shooting him a warning look.

"No shit it looks-" Buggy shook his head to stop you, "No its lower I mean, I think it's best we call the doctor" He said calmly, A shot of embrassment going through you at this point. Buggy truly had been giving it his all and learned from the doctor. With a chick trip from the Doctor and Midwife they confirmed you were in labor and got you set up to give birth in the cabin, The twins being taken to the Big Top with Cabaji while they waited for their siblings arrival.

"How are you feeling?" Buggy asked, Gently rubbing your back as you smiled.

"Not to bad actually- I'm glad you're here with me.." You say softly as another contraction shot through you.

At first it was fine- You'd been through this before. So it should be shorter and less painful this time around- Yeah No. You went from fine to screaming in pain very very quickly. Buggy sitting next to you trying to comfort you and get you through it- However the last thing you wanted was him there..

Which landed Buggy outside the house awkwardly, his crew also seated on different patches of grass as they flinched at every cry and scream that echoed out from the house and into the silent garden outside. You had kicked out Buggy 20 minutes ago, clearly just in too much pain to handle him at the moment and the doctor recommending him to try to return in 30 minutes. Which he did.

Truthfully he handled it like a champ once back in, holding your hand despite feeling like you were crushing it into dust and wiping the sweat and tears from your eyes. After a seven exhausting painful hours a shrill cry cut through the air as you slacked onto the bed. The doctor happily placing a little girl on your chest, now tears of joy running down your cheeks.

The doctors starting to clean her up as you admired her, looking to Buggy who was also crying.

You held the little girl in your arms, seeing her pink little face she had your facial features and (Y/H/C) hair like you but a bright rounded cherry nose/cheeks and ocean blue eyes. She was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. You saw Buggy stare in only awe as he felt tears hit his cheeks and he smiled.

"Shes.. shes.."

Your hand reached forward, Buggy thinking it was to caress his cheek or something gentle but instead you grabbed his neck in a iron grip- He squeaking in surprise as you pull him close.

"Buggy- This is the last... do you understand? Cause if the words 'I want another child' come from your lips ever again I am going to cut your dick off and throw it into the deepest part of the ocean. Do. You. Understand. Me" You said in the softest and kindest voice Buggy had ever heard, fear going through his system as he could tell you were dead serious.. maybe it was the lack of oxygen going to his brain or still the euphoria of the moment but he swore he saw literal hell flame in yours eyes.

"Clear- Crystal Clear" He wheezed, you releasing him so he could scoop up his daughter. He genuinely looked giddy at this point as he cuddled her close to his chest, you saw the anxiety just below the surface of his face as he stared at his daughter more her nose-

"Shes beautiful" You say softly staring at her from Buggy's arms.

"I won't let her go through what I did- I want her to feel special and perfect" He admitted, your eyes softening at his vulnerability as he kissed his daughters cheek.

"Im sure they will kn- Oof!- Fuck" You hissed in pain and flinched. The doctor peaked under the blanket quickly and called over the midwife who did a quick check. You wincing in pain as Buggy stared at you panicking and holding the now fussing newborn.

"(Y/N)?!" He said softly as another groan of pain left you. The midwife and doctor conversing quickly before beginning to prepare once again.

"It seems you're still in labor- Looks like another baby" He said proudly, Your eyes widening as you look at Buggy like you were prepared to kill him. The clowns face as white as snow making his face paint look dark at the realization of 2 sets of twins kicked in.

"Holy shit-"

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!!" You yelled as Buggy kept his daughter and rushed out quickly to show off his daughter and avoid your wrath of damning you to another set of twins.

Eventually he would return with your guys daughter and sat through another broken hand created by your labor. That night another little girl was brought in this world, the little girls being 8 hours apart and identical to her sister.

It was later decided after you had properly been cleaned up and not ready to murder Buggy their names. Buggy coming up with the names Ali and Ari respectively for his daughters.

Tag List-

@alastorhazbin @yuriwk

[wheeboo]

lucky | lee jihoon

SYNOPSIS. in which jihoon realises just how lucky he is to have you. PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. none, jihoon is just deeply whipped and falling hard for reader (🫵) WORD COUNT. 1.3k

notes: ive been addicted to a new song recently called lucky by crying city n wanted to write it abt w someone. i havent written for jihoon in a while so enjoy some domestic jihoon brainrot :')

Jihoon had always told himself to be patient when it comes to being with you. He likes it this way𑁋the steady and slow incline of his feelings towards you. It's like a delicate flower in bloom, or watching a sunrise over the horizon, each day bringing a bit more light and warmth to his heart.

You like it this way too. Because when time seems to be going by fast around you, it only seems to slow down when you're with him.

He likes the way he seems to discover something new about you every time you went out on a date. It can be a distant memory from the past that you remember that reminds you of him, or something miniscule like a quirk when your eyes grow big when you're amused or when you reach for the nearest object to grab when you're excited. In most of these cases these days, it's the sleeve of his shirt or his wrist. Jihoon really likes it when you do that.

And amidst the things he notices about you, he doesn't dare to realise the subtle shifts of himself. Like the way he now anticipates your laughter before it even escapes your lips, or the way his smile grows just a little bigger each time he gets to walk you home with your arm comfortably wrapped around his. Or maybe when his gaze seems to linger a little longer when looking at you as if trying to imprint every detail of your face into his mind, or when the thought of your absence becomes an ache in his heart that he can't ignore.

Just like right now.

Jihoon recognises that he's no longer just patient; he's become truly invested in your life, your happiness, just you. You're the first person he's ever truly liked, and he ponders whether this feels right or not𑁋to miss you this much it feels merely incomplete to be home alone right now, because he'd much rather be with you. The thought scares him a little. He's never imagined himself to feel this way.

It isn't due to uncertainty about his feelings; it's more about the vulnerability that comes with caring so deeply for someone. The idea that his happiness has become so entwined with yours is both thrilling and overwhelming that even his members seem to notice a particular glow to him lately. But then he remembers just how easy it is to be Lee Jihoon around you. Not just Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. Himself, and nothing more.

What he feels isn't just fleeting𑁋it's real, it's profound, and it's worth embracing.

Jihoon trudges to his bedroom, placing himself down at the edge of his bed with his thumb hovering over your contact. He contemplates sending you a goodnight text, but it feels lackluster to send such a simple message when there's so much more to be told. He could also send you a paragraph for you to read, but that also doesn't feel enough.

He wants to see you instead.

With a determined yet slightly nervous exhale, Jihoon taps on your contact and selects the video call option. His heart quickens in an instant as the call connects after a few rings, and he's quickly greeted by your surprised face.

"Hoonie?" You call to him, and Jihoon swears his heart melts into goo each time you call him that.

"Hey," he greets you warmly, noticing how you were scrambling to prop up your phone properly. "I'm... not interrupting anything, am I?"

You shake your head, offering a soft smile. "No, not at all. Are you okay? You usually don't call."

Jihoon bites his bottom lip nervously because you're right. He's always been more comfortable texting than calling, but there's just something about this moment right now that makes him want to change that fact, especially if he gets to see a glimpse of your face for one second.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just... wanted to see you," he admits, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You lift an amused brow, finding the smile to your lips hard to resist. "Shouldn't you be asleep by now? You have work in the morning with the guys."

Jihoon runs a hand through his hair sheepishly. "I know, I know. But I... I wanted to see your face."

Your face softens. "Well, I'm glad that you're here. You can get ready for bed with me."

Jihoon's smile grows, and he shifts slightly on his bed, propping himself up against the pillows. The warmth in your voice is enough to make his heart flutter, and the idea of sharing this domestic moment with you, even through a screen, feels comforting. It makes him imagine himself unwinding for bed with you without a phone call separating the two of you.

"I'd like that," he replies, gaze fixed on you bringing your phone into the bathroom. "It's been a long day."

He listens to the sounds of running water as you wash your face, and seeing your pretty bare face gives him all the more reason to hope that one day, he'll be able to cherish it in person. It's as if he's there with you, a silent presence in your room, a part of your everyday life.

He stands up as well, bringing you along into his own bathroom. Jihoon sets his phone on the counter, giving you a view of his bathroom as he goes about washing his face as well. You shake your head with a smile as you watch him dry his face, already standing with your toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, silently gesturing to him once he catches sight of you.

Jihoon chuckles softly and he picks up on your unspoken cue. He reaches for his own toothbrush and toothpaste, mirroring your actions as you both start brushing your teeth together, occasionally exchanging shy glances here and there and letting the domesticity of the moment take over.

Once you're both done, you watch as Jihoon rinses his toothbrush and puts it back in its place. He dries his hands and faces the phone's camera with a soft smile, seeing that you were already walking back to presumably your bedroom. He does the same as well, collapsing onto his bed and settling under his duvet, the soft glow of his bedside lamp casting a warm light on his face. You've also settled back into bed on your end, the dim lighting in your room making you appear extra cozy under the covers.

As you both settle into bed, he can't help but imagine a world where he's right there with you. It's a thought he often entertains: a dream of being able to hold you close, to feel your warmth against his for the first time. He imagines being able to live that quiet life with you.

One day, I'll hold you like this for real, he thinks.

There's a yawn that leaves your lips that Jihoon overhears through the phone, and it tugs at his heartstrings in the sweetest way. It's a small, ordinary sound, but to him, it's a reminder of the most mundane and heartfelt moments you've shared. As he continues to watch you, he notices the telltale signs of weariness in your eyes, and he can't help but feel a twinge of protectiveness.

"You should rest," Jihoon suggests, voice carrying the same warmth he feels.

You give a small pout. "I don't really want to sleep just yet."

"I'll fall asleep better knowing you're getting rest too," Jihoon insists gently.

Your pout turns into a contemplative look at his words. "You've... got a point."

There's a few moments of silence that passes, and Jihoon takes it as an opportunity to watch the way your features gradually soften before finally relaxing.

"Okay." You let out a sigh, reaching out to readjust your covers before giving Jihoon one final look through the phone. "Promise me you'll get some rest too?"

Jihoon only nods. "I promise."

You grin sleepily. "Sweet dreams, Hoonie."

"Sweet dreams, Y/N." I hope you dream of something beautiful tonight.

The call stays connected for a few moments before Jihoon finally gives in and ends the call. He lets out a breath he feels he's been holding in for a while as he lays there. The glow of his phone's screen slowly fades away, leaving his room in peaceful darkness. He shifts under the covers, getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

And in that moment, it hits him just how lucky he is have you.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae

[eepwriting]

thigh anon here, absolutely loved what you wrote so I'm back again!! might be too much idk but

could we please get another ivy fic, where the reader has feelings for him and there is some playful flirting between them and ivy, but they don't know if he's being serious so they break down and confess and turns out ivy also has feelings for them but was in the same boat of being unsure

ending with lots of reassurance and comfort (and maybe a passionate sex scene if it's not too much to ask 👀)

This Whole Time ✶ IV x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, intercourse, masturbation, slight angst

Omg hiii thigh anon!! I made sure to not delete your entire ask this time ha. Thank you as always 🤍

!! mdni !!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

You couldn’t deny the way your heart ached slightly every time you saw him.

He was always so kind, considerate of your thoughts and feelings. He was funny, charismatic, and handsome. The two of you had became friends almost 2 years ago, this little crush growing everyday. Sure, you could confess how you felt, but you knew you’d never recover if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe the two of you could remain friends if that was the case, but the reminder of absent attraction would always be at the back of your mind. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of your everyday life without him in it.

So, you remained just friends with him. You play along with his naturally flirty nature and pretend to not be affected by it, not letting him see how much you wished it was real. “Jokingly” flirting back. Just two friends joking around.

So when your phone buzzes with a text from him, inviting you over for “shit food and trash tv” you push your feelings down and think on the positive side: You get to hang out with your good friend!

Your heart hammers in your chest as you climb the stairs to his apartment later that night. It always seemed to do that before you saw him, only slowing down after sitting with him a while. You knock on his door before letting yourself in, kicking off your shoes at the door. IVs standing in the kitchen, leaned over, looking into his fridge. He hears your entrance and stands straight, closing the fridge door.

A smile reaches his eyes as he walks over, reaching out to pull you into a hug. He squeezes you tight, his fingertips lightly scratching up and down your back. “Hey, you.” His voice is quiet in your ear.

“Hi, how’ve you been?” Your hand squeezes his shoulder. He pulls away from you but keeps his hands on your hips. “Good, you?”

You nod, “Good. Hungry.”

“Well lucky you, I ordered your favorite.” He gently pushes you towards the living room, hands on your shoulders. Your eyes land on the coffee table, on it a small spread of food from your favorite take out place, plus your favorite drinks.

“Oh wowww, you’re really spoiling me, huh?” You laugh as you take a seat on the couch.

“I gotta give my best to my favorite person, don’t I?” He sheepishly shrugs before sitting down next to you. He grabs the remote, switching on the tv.

You hope he doesn’t notice the blush that rises to your cheeks. You watch the side of his face for a moment before reaching forward to open the food boxes in front of you.

You hear the theme song of a show you hate and glare over at iv. “Oh no, no.” You reach over him to pick the remote up, hitting the back button.

“What? I like that show.” He turns to you, his arm flying up to point at the tv.

You shake your head and snicker, “That show sucks, ivy. C’mon.”

“Oh that’s real rich coming from you. At least it has substance! Unlike what you watch.” He jokingly shakes his head in shame.

Your mouth opens in fake hurt, a hand reaching up to your neck as you gasp. “Wow. That’s quite rude, you know?” He just lets out a loud laugh as he pulls his mask up over his mouth to take a sip of his drink.

You settle on an early 2010s sitcom before grabbing a container of food and sitting further back on the couch.

Before you know it, the two of you are 4 episodes deep, food long gone. You sat with your back against the armrest, your legs lay over iv’s lap, who’s sat further down the couch. His hands rest on your calves, absentmindedly rubbing, occasionally squeezing whenever he laughs at something.

You watch as the two main characters share a loving moment towards the end of the episode. They vow to not let the small things break them apart, even the silly little conflict the episode had revolved around. You can’t help but to look over at iv as the people on screen share a kiss, wishing you could have a moment like that with him. You blatantly stare at him, too lost in the thoughts racing through your mind.

“Hey, what’s wrong.” You feel a squeeze on your knee.

You blink, your head shaking slightly as he looks at you with a look of concern. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” You shake your head again, looking back to the tv.

“No. It’s not nothing. You seem upset.” He pauses the tv and pulls you towards him by your legs. You couldn’t see your own face, but you felt that familiar ache in your chest, only assuming the look on your face matched what you were feeling.

“I’m okay. Just thinking about stuff.” You pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands, crossing your arms over yourself.

“What stuff? Sad stuff?” His brows furrow. Even under the mask you can see the pure concern.

You can’t believe you’re about to open up about this. You’re terrified but you don’t know how much longer you can keep up this act. Keep pretending that your entire mind, body and soul doesn’t yearn for the man next to you. You clear your throat, “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“What are you talking about? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that right?” His hand rubs comforting circles over the side of your thigh.

You take a deep breath, your eyes close in a long blink before you speak. “Ivy. I like you. I really like you. More than a friend should ever like a friend.” You pause, your words getting caught in your throat. IV’s hand stops moving on your leg but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I owe it to myself to let you know. I love spending time with you but I can’t just act like I don’t have strong feelings for you, not anymore.”

You look at him, frozen in his seat. You’re screaming at him in your head. To say anything to you. To give you any sign that he really heard what you just said.

It feels like forever before he speaks. “How long? Have you felt this way?” His voice is quiet.

You shake your head, not expecting that answer. “Since I met you.”

He lets out a breath he seemed to be holding, his head falling forward. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” He pulls you to sit fully across his lap and you let him, heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks.

“What do you mean?” You blink at him.

“I mean, I really like you. I’ve never said anything because I was so sure you weren’t interested.” He reaches up hold the side of your face. “I flirt with you and try my damn best make you feel special, hoping maybe one day, I’d have the confidence to finally say something. Even if it meant the end of our friendship. I’ve always wanted to tell you.”

You want to pinch yourself, convinced you’re dreaming.

“So… this whole time we’ve both just been torturing ourselves?”

He laughs softly, his thumb swiping back and forth over your cheek. “I guess so.” His eyes repeatedly flick down to your mouth. “Funny how that works, huh?”

Your mind races with thoughts of surprise, confusion and pure happiness as you try to make sense of his words.

You notice the way his breath quickens as his hand slowly reaches up to pull his mask up over his mouth. You meet him halfway as he leans into you, your mouths meeting in a hesitant kiss. It starts slow, occasionally interrupted by shy smiles from both of you. He tilts his head when he feels you grip the back of his neck, letting his tongue swipe over your bottom lip. A quiet and low groan leaves him when his tongue finds yours. His hands run up and down your back, squeezing your sides occasionally.

He gently guides you to lay on the couch, his mouth never leaving yours. He half straddles your hips and lets you pull him down so his chest is against yours. His mouth moves to kiss your cheek, across your jaw and down the side of your neck. A breathy whine leaving your mouth when you feel his tongue press to your skin.

Your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips to yours. You’re rewarded with a deep groan, his hips bucking into yours.

He pulls away from your neck breathlessly. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

You smile up at him and bring your hands up to cup his face. “I’m more than okay with this. Trust me. I’m just so happy that you feel the same.”

He nods his head and turns to press a kiss to your palm. “Me too.” His voice soft and sweet. His hand caressing your cheek and jaw before he pushes himself off you to stand, impatient hands working over the button and zipper on his jeans.

You take the opportunity to push your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, the two of you unabashedly watching each other undress.

He’s on you again before you know it, his mouth attaching to yours again. Your hands wander under his shirt to roam his back, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades. His hand cups your jaw as he kisses you as if you’re his life source. He presses his hips to yours firmly and you can’t stop the moan you let out into his mouth. The feel of his bare skin on yours making you impatient.

“Hold on, love.” He mumbles on your lips before pulling away from you. He grabs your hand and brings it to his chest. “I feel like my hearts gonna beat out of my chest.” He lets out a breathy laugh.

You feel his heart racing under your palm, yours not feeling much different. “It’s okay. Mine too.” You give him a small nod and smile. “I’ll help, okay?” You reach a hand between the two of you, your hand nudging his cock before you wrap your fingers around him. He lets out a deep breath at the contact.

Your hand slowly slides down his shaft and back up again, your thumb catching a bead of his arousal before swirling it around on his tip. He whines a needy mewl above you, his eyes closing. The sound only makes the ache between your thighs ten times worse. You want to watch him like this forever, but let’s be honest, you’d waited 2 years for this already and you were done being patient.

Your fingers continue working him as you bring your other hand to your mouth, gathering some spit in your palm. Your wet palm soon replaces your fingers, pumping him smoothly. He bucks into your hand, another whimper leaving his mouth. You spread your legs open further and angle your hips up.

He gets the hint, angling his hips down slightly, his hand guiding his cock to press against you. He locks eyes with you again before slowly pushing himself in halfway. He leans down to you, mouths connecting in a hot, open mouth kiss. He draws his hips back before he’s even fully buried, and snaps them back in with a quick thrust. It catches you off guard, fingers digging into his side, a moan muffled by iv’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He breathes out and rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve just waited too long for this.” A groan punctuates his sentence. His cock slips in and out of you with ease as he picks up his pace. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him back down to you again. His quiet grunts sounding ever so nice in your ear. “I wanna look at you.” He says as he pushes himself up, hands gripping your sides as he looks down at you.

You can’t help but look down to where the two of you are connected, your teeth biting over your bottom lip as you whimper at the sight. Your hand slowly makes its way down to play with yourself, your eyes snapping up to look at iv.

He breathes out a huff and quickly nods his head. His attention fully on the way your hand moves over yourself, as well at how his cock glides in and out of you.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar feeling in your lower half to blossom. You could tell iv was on the edge as well, his movements loosing the fluidity they once had. He bends down to pepper small kisses on your cheek. “You gonna cum with me?” He hums as you quickly nod, your mouth opening in a silent cry, your climax crashing over you. Your hips buck up to him as you grip his bicep, a long string of moans leaving you.

IV’s release is right behind yours. His brows furrowed, mouth hung open slightly, eyes squeezed shut. He lets himself collapse over you, but still careful to not use his full weight. His head is in the crook of your neck, his breathing fast and shallow. You feel his hips spasm against yours, the movement sending a weak shock through you.

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pushing himself up. You both let out a soft groan as he pulls out of you. He looks down at you with a relaxed smile, his hand reaching out to smooth over the top of your head. “You’re telling me, we could’ve been doing that this whole time?” He chuckles.

You laugh, lightly nudging him with your knee. “I guess so.”

He helps you sit up before walking you to the bathroom, soaking a washcloth with warm water before he gently cleans you up. He helps you get dressed before running to the kitchen to get you some water.

He joins you back on the couch, his arm falling around your shoulders as you cuddle up to him. The two of you knowing you’d not regret the decision to open up about how you felt this whole time.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

This is looong sorry, I got a little carried away.

Absolutely loved this idea! Hope you enjoyed anon! 🤍

K. Bye bye.

[gorgeys]

heyyy i've been thinking about this specific scenario w our queen for a while now and id love to see you writing about it if possible bc ur amazinggg

so basically ive been thinking about maeve and reader being in the beginning of their relationship but maeve is still very closed off and hates any sign of vulnerability so when reader notices that and tries to help maeve process her emotions in a healthier way than w drugs or just bottling up like she always does she gets really defensive and fight w reader about it but then maeve realize that it was a shitty thing to do n apologize to reader because she really wants this to work its just that old habits die hard

basically angst w happy ending bc im a sucker for hurt/comfort

never let me go ★ queen maeve

Queen Maeve x fem!reader

Maeve has her walls up, but you help her break them down

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2960

Note: thank you sm for the great request! i'm not the best at writing this hurt/comfort stuff but i really tried!! i hope you enjoy!

you stuffed shredded chicken into a searing pan of sauce.  if someone had walked in, they would have assumed you were cooking for a family of six. but no, the pan was piled high just for your girlfriend who had a never-ending appetite and claimed she'd rather eat your food than the meals at any restaurant.  that boosted your ego quite a bit considering maeve had literally dined at the most expensive and renowned restaurants in America.

some nights she'd come up behind you while you whipped up one of your classic dishes and wrap her arms around your waist.  she'd leave little kisses behind your ear and tell you how much she missed you, leaving a stupid smile on your face.  then she'd rest her head on your shoulder and ask you to tell her everything about your day because her day was "boring as usual."  you didn't consider being a crime-fighting superhero boring by any means, but you got the hint that she didn't want to talk about it.

but then other nights you wondered if the meal was all she came for.  it was nights like tonight, where she sat silently at the kitchen table with a beer in one hand and an empty bottle beside her, that left you worrying. whenever you glanced back at her, she always seemed to be blankly staring off into space, as if complicated thoughts were clouding her mind.  you had tried giving her space but you couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong.

she only makes her presence known when she gets up from her chair, opens the fridge, and reaches for another beer.  upon noticing, you release a tired sigh that catches her attention.

"maeve, do you really need another?" you ask without turning around.  "i mean, you're gonna finish the whole case."

she closes the fridge behind her.

"i can just go out and buy some more," she says with a simple shrug.

"no, maeve, that's not what i mean," you say.  you half turn to meet her eyes and just look at her for a moment, wondering if she'll catch on.  from the little twitch of her eyes, you think she does, but she still doesn't say anything.  she just stands there and stares back at you, her hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle.  you sigh once more.  "is something going on?"

"what? no," she quickly says with the slight furrow of her eyebrows as if it's a stupid question. she doesn't sound one bit convincing.

"right," you say, fully turning around and dropping the wooden spoon into the pan. you lean your back against the edge of the counter.  "so you just sit in silence, drinking like a fish for no reason at all?"

she scoffs and laughs as if you're being absurd.

"since when do you care how much i drink?" she asks with her usual satirical smile.  you know that smile well.  it's the one she always displays when the conversation is teetering on something uncomfortable.

"since you started drinking like a middle-aged man going through a divorce."

"oh, come on, y/n" she says, waving you off.  "it's just cause i can't really get drunk like a normal person.  i need a few more."

"a few more?" you ask with raised eyebrows.  "maeve, you drink enough to kill a couple racehorses.  i mean, the only people i've seen drink that much are people trying to forget things."

her smile falters and you take it as a sign that you're headed in the right direction.

"if anything's going on, i want you to know that you can talk to me about it," you say sincerely, taking a step toward her.  "i'm always here for you, no matter what."

you catch her rolling her eyes before she turns away from you.

"god, stop with all the sappy shit," she says sharply.  she slams the beer on the tabletop rather hard.  "i'm fine, okay?" she says, borderline shouting.

"then talk to me, please," you say, placing a hand over your chest.  you know you sound a little pathetic as you plead but you hope it gets through to her.  "because it's so hard to guess what you're feeling when you just sit there not saying anything.  i can only imagine the worst."

she audibly groans before she sits back in her chair.  her eyes lock dead onto yours and she ignores the desperation written all over your face.

"i have shitty enough days already, the last thing i wanna do is come here and talk about my fucking feelings like i'm in kindergarten.  i deal with enough children at vought already," she says, crossing her arms and staring daggers into you.

you press your lips together out of frustration.  she's a grown woman but she's acting like an immature teenager.

"well you can't just keep everything to yourself," you say, matching her posture and crossing your own arms.  "i know it's a lot to carry between the seven and vought and having to save everyone in this whole shitty city, so don't feel like you have to carry it alone."

she laughs at you and it only feels like a punch to your gut.

"god, i didn't know i was talking to my fucking therapist," she says, overenunciating her words and practically spitting at you in the process.  "do you come up with these lines yourself or do you steal them off inspirational pinterest boards?" she asks with a derisive smile.

"maeve," you sigh, growing tired of this game that you're playing.  she's usually awful at these touchy conversations but she's especially defensive tonight.  you take another step toward her. "all i'm asking is that you have a real conversation with me.  i mean, i feel like i'm talking to a stranger half the time because i don't know a single thing about you.  you wanna talk about the bachelor for an hour but can't tell me a thing about your day or what's actually bothering you.  it's like pulling teeth with you."

you take a final cautious step toward her and place one palm on the table to support your weight. you're standing just inches away from her.

"stop shutting me out.  it's hurting both of us," you say, more softly this time.

"you mean it's hurting you," she says, punctuating her words by slamming her fist on the table, causing you to flinch and jump away from her.  you look down and notice she's cracked the wooden surface.

you've never been seriously scared of her strength before, but you are in this moment.

"i'm doing just fine, actually. you just want me to have a break down so you can feel better about yourself and your small, meaningless problems," she says, rising from her chair.

you scoff out of disbelief.

"do you even hear yourself right now?" you ask, throwing your hands up in the air.  "i'm your girlfriend, not some villain you have to fight.  i'm not praying on your downfall.  all i wanna do is help you."

she laughs and shakes her head while you huff.  it boils your blood when she treats you like this, like some ignorant outsider, not someone who cares so deeply about her.

"oh, okay y/n, so let's just hold hands and sing kumbaya and maybe all my problems will disappear," she says, the typical sarcasm dripping from her tone.  it's quickly replaced by venom.  "you can't do anything to help me.  you're stupid for ever thinking you could," she yells, before falling back into her chair and opening the beer bottle with the flick of her thumb.

once again, you just stare at her, wondering if she'll recognize the insanity behind her words and the visible hurt they've inflicted on you.  but no, she just takes a long swig from the bottle, letting you know that nothing you've said has pierced her tough exterior.

finally, you've reached your limit with her.  you know this is going nowhere.

"well fuck me, maeve, for trying to help," you say, spinning around and turning the stove off.  she puts her beer down, a little surprised by the abrupt change in your usually understanding nature.  "you can make your own dinner and go back to your bougie penthouse and drink yourself to death up there, okay?  i'm not fucking doing this tonight."

she only watches as you, with glossy eyes, stomp toward your bedroom and slam the door behind you.  she doesn't make an effort to stop you, but instead sits there almost dumbfounded by the way she's tipped you over the edge.  she had never seen you like this before.

she stays at your now cracked kitchen table for quite a while, downing her third beer and contemplating if she should go in and talk to you or leave like you asked.

even if she did push aside the embarrassment and work up the courage to knock on your bedroom door, what would she even say to you?  that she has blood on her hands from all the people homelander's killed and she can't take it anymore?  that when she closes her eyes, all she can see are those screaming, terrified, innocent people?  that that's why she's broken inside?  no, those are her burdens to carry, not yours, she thinks.  she can't scare you away now, not this soon.

"fuck," she curses as she stands up from the table, eyes locked on your bedroom door.

she wants to be in that bed with you, her head tucked in the crook of your neck as you sleep soundly.  she wants to fall asleep to your perfect, soothing smell and the soft sound of your breathing like she usually does.

but no.  no matter how much her heart hurts, she can't bring herself to your door.  she can't let you see through her like that.  instead, she throws the bottles into your trash can and walks out of your apartment.

xxx

for the next few days, all maeve can think about is you.  she thinks about you opening your apartment door for her, close to midnight, after a long night of crime-fighting.  you're in your cute plaid pajama pants and maybe your oversized queen maeve shirt that she stole for you from vought tower.

she thinks about watching netflix on the couch with you, cuddled under your favorite soft blue blanket.  she thinks about the moment you slump against her shoulder as you begin to doze off.

she even misses your texts.  she misses your "have the best day, baby!!" texts.  she misses all the heart-eye emojis you send her.  she misses the cute impromptu pictures you take, especially the ones you take of yourself kissing random queen maeve billboards or posters around the city.  she misses your "i love you <3" texts.

and it's during a boring seven meeting where she keeps checking her phone, hoping for a text from you, that she realizes that she can't lose you.  she desperately needs you and every day that she doesn't see you feels like a pointless one.  she can't carry on with vought or the seven or saving people if she doesn't have you to come home to.

so maybe, to make this thing between the two of you work, she needs to change.  maybe she needs to open up, because losing you is not an option.

that's the sentiment she repeats in her head as she knocks on your apartment door, waiting impatiently to see you for the first time since your fight.

she hears the pitter pattering of your bare feet from behind the door before you swing it open.  and there you are, in all your glory of messy hair and sweatpants.  you don't say anything, so maeve sends you a weak smile.

"hi," she says awkwardly, looking almost embarrassed to be in her current situation.

"hi," you reply, more coldly than she's used to.  though she understands after everything she said last time.

she stares at you for another beat, soaking in every part of your presence.  relief floods her body just seeing you.

"i, um, i bought you a new table," she says, raising the cardboard ikea box she had tucked under one arm.  "i'm sorry about what i did to your other one."

you open the door wider so she can come in and set the box down in your kitchen.  when she walks back to you, you still have one hand on the door edge, holding the door open.

"is that all you came to do or..."

she can't read your blank expression.  do you want her to leave or stay?  it doesn't matter.  she has to be brave right now.

"no," she says, standing awkwardly in your living room, her fingers playing with the hem of her sweater.  she nervously looks down at the floor for a moment.  she reminds you of a shy school girl that's trying to work up the courage to ask out her crush.  "can we talk?"

you close and lock the door and notice that maeve's already invited herself to sit on your couch.  so you sit beside her, your body turned toward her and your elbow resting on the top of the couch.  you watch as she sits there stiffly, as if she's never been there before, with her hands tightly folded in her lap.

her gaze nervously flickers from your face to her hands every few seconds.  you can see the gears in her brain spinning in overdrive as she tries to find the right words.  although the air is slightly tense and awkward, you would sit there for hours if it meant maeve would finally share herself with you.

"y/n," she finally says, abruptly raising her head to look you in the eye.  your heart jumps a little. "being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be.  i've...seen terrible things," she says before taking a deep breath.  "i've done terrible things."

you realize that this is the moment.  this is the moment where she's finally going to let you into her life.  her whole life.  so, you shelve your anger and gently rest a hand over one of her wrists.  you give her skin a soft, encouraging squeeze that tells her to continue.

"and...the guilt is the worst part.  i-" she pauses to take another shaky breath and then press her lips together.  you can see that tears are beginning to prick the corners of her eyes.  "i don't know what to do," she admits, her voice cracking.  your heart cracks along with it.

"and i guess..." she continues.  "i didn't want you to have to worry about that.  i didn't want to scare you," she says, looking back down at her hands.

"maeve," you coo, resting your other hand on her shoulder.  a pout naturally finds it's way to your lips.  seeing her this emotional almost makes you want to cry with her.

"and i'm so sorry.  because...not telling you made everything even worse.  and i just don't want to lose you," she says, a tear rolling down her cheek.  her hand immediately rises to wipe it away.  "i don't want to lose you because of something stupid like this."

"maeve," you say, your hand leaving her shoulder to push a strand of hair out of her face.  "it's okay., it's not stupid.  i get it, you're not used to doing...this. i know it's hard for you."  you gently hold her cheek in her hand, forcing her to make eye contact with you.  "but you could never scare me away.  i promise.  i'm with you because i want to know all of you.  all the bad stuff too."

"but, y/n, it's really bad," she says, pressing her lips together to prevent herself from breaking down.

you're leaning into her and holding her face with both hands now, your foreheads almost touching.

"maeve, you're a good person," you say.  you sound so sincere that maeve can't help the silent tears that start to flow rapidly.  that was everything she needed to hear and more.  "i know that.  you know that.  whatever is going on, it's not something that we can't overcome together.  if you let me in, i'm going to help you as much as i can, okay?  i'm always here for you," you say.

she nods in your hands and feels her body flooded by an overwhelming sense of comfort.

"i need you, y/n.  i need this to work. and i wanna be better.  for you," she says, finally bumping your forehead with hers.

"i know.  and i know it's scary to tell me all this stuff but i promise, it's going to get easier.  if you trust me, there's nothing we can't do," you say, a little smile finding it's way to your face.  you know it sounds cheesy and it's something maeve would have made fun of you for under typical circumstances, but in the moment, it feels right.  "and you know i love you, right?"

she instinctively wraps her arms around your shoulders, engulfing you in the tightest hug you've ever received from her.  she familiarly tucks her head into the crook of your neck, inhaling that smell she missed so much.

"i love you so much," she whispers into your skin and you melt in her arms.  you hold her just as tightly, your fingers rubbing up and down her back.  "i missed you."

"i missed you more," you say.

"i'm never letting you go again," she says, squeezing you to her chest even tighter, and you laugh softly.  she's telling the honest truth.

though fear still lingered in the back of her mind, this feeling sure as hell beat any alcohol.

[weskie]

Hi just wanna say I love your blog!

Okay!! I've been ive this idea stuck in my head!! imagine Wesker becoming super intrigued with like a musician or something like that- And he can't help but feel a bit jealous at his lovers adoring fans

One would think he’d get better at swallowing back the nearly nauseating wave of jealousy that rises in his throat, but such clearly was not the case.

You’d both settled onto the couch in his office, him with a laptop and a nice stack of folders perched upon the arm rest, and you with a small mountain’s worth of fan mail in a cardboard box.  This was how your weekends often went.  The scribble of his pen and clacking of keys would fill your ears while the occasional sweet chuckle from you would tickle his.  

Other times, you would perhaps be in the adjacent room playing whatever stringed instrument you’d decided required practicing.  Wesker often dropped whatever occupied him in those moments to linger outside of the door, listening to you with a content smile and pride bubbling in his chest.

Sometimes you show him what your fans send you.  It’s sweet for the vast majority of the time.  Endearing letters, admissions of admiration, people who swear up and down that you, angel of music that you are, changed their lives.  Some send you art.  Others send gifts.  It makes no difference to him, for you deserve nothing less than to be spoiled to your heart’s content.

Others were… less savory.  Disgusting tirades of everything some scumbag desires to do to you, scribbled, certainly, with putrid hands that couldn’t be less deserving of both your attention and time.  Some were smarter than others, leaving the return address blank.  Those who were not so bright…?

It only ever took a phone call to ensure they would never write such vile words again.  First he simply had them killed.  But now?  Oh, now Wesker ensures they will remember their transgressions for a lifetime. 

The way you smiled when you noticed such foul occurrences becoming next to nonexistent was all Wesker ever needed to know he’d done the right thing.  Still, he sometimes wondered what he should do about the more… appropriate advances.

“Another love letter,” you chuckle. You hand it over to him, as you always do, and he scans over it as usual to determine if it’s one worth a visitor being sent to the writer’s home.  “It’s kind of cute.”

He hates when you say such things.  The only one whose words of affection you should care for are his and his alone.

“Not the word I would use.” He huffs, gesturing for you to take the paper once more.  

Suddenly your knuckles are brushing against the corner of his jaw and you’re smiling at him with big, sparkling eyes.  “Well, what would you call it?  You ask with a big grin.  You know.

It takes him a moment and a brief scowl to settle on the only word he could assign to any of it.  “Pathetic.”

You know of his tendency to feel like this.  Threatened perhaps was a better word, but jealousy was, well… 

Apt.

He blinks and you’re in his lap, legs straddling his, hands at his cheeks.  All of his ire fades the second your lips graze his.  It’s as if your touch can take away everything that’s bad, leaving only warmth blossoming in his chest.  He forgets sometimes that you, despite every hand that has yearned to have you, chose him. 

Not them.

His fingers splay at your lower back, pulling you in just a little closer. Even now, with those hands still writing their longings for you, you stay right here. Right where you belong.

You choose him.

[yourstingrey]

Luke X Daughter of Kymopoleia

Reader has constant mood swings which is understandable due to her heritage of being the daughter of the goddess of violent sea storms and sweet BF Luke always helps her out/calms her down and doesn’t let her feel bad about herself because of it since she can’t help it ( also please can you mention Clarisse as like a side character and readers bestfriend )

Calm After the Storm

A/N: EEEEE I was actually kinda so hype for this request cus ive never seen anything similar and its actually a cool like character I hadnt thought about in the pjo universe! I hope this is good anon i tried my very best!! This post was really helped me with kymopoleia so it might be helpful to read before this but you dont have to!

Warnings: threats of fighting someone?

Description: An annoying loss, an annoying Chris, and a very patient Luke!

The sun was shining, and a warm dancing breeze fluttering around camp on what should have been a beautiful day was being ruined by Chris droning on about being a sore winner. Gloatingly of course. We just had our capture the flag the night before and as usual, we lost. We would have been so close to winning this time Clarisse and I had it all planned. Last time we learned last time trying a seduction tactic did in fact not work so this time we decided we would target their weak which to us was Chris. Not to say he was a bad swordsman by any means but up against me and her we knew he wouldn't stand a chance. A perk of dating Luke was also he forgot that he shouldn't spill his capture the flag plans. Soooo we also knew for a fact it was Chris guarding the flag. 

We snuck through the woods with ease no one tried to hunt us down they knew we'd get to them first, Chris was practically sleeping while he sat in front of the flag entirely spaced out we moved from behind and started to grab the flag of course a single shift of my chest plate was enough to break him out of his daze and turn towards us and of course start to scream to his team like a little girl. We got caught pretty quickly. We may be strong but not take on 20 campers strong and it wasn't long after we heard the cheers of the Blue team already at the river.

So now of course, as I tried to relax Chris decided it was the perfect time to gloat at me “I mean what a stupid plan no offense” I drowned him out a little too busy clenching my jaw so I didn't practically spit venom at him, Chris continued now laughing as he continued “-I mean really I can't believe you thought I couldn't take you both on bahahaha!” A real knee slapper to him. I finally unballed my fists from my sides to get into Chris’s face, backing him into a tree my voice laced with annoyed anger “We could take you on idiot! You just had to scream for your team to save you!” Chris stuttered before coming up with a weak rebuttal putting his hands up in defeat “UH- that's not even true i just had to get them so they would watch you after the fight but they got there fast pfft I could have easily taken you” I grab a hold of Chris’s shirt “Oh really let's do it now then. No crying for anyone else this time.” 

In the background, a crowd had not formed but anyone working or sitting close by paused to watch not swarming in case Chiron were to notice and break up hopefully a really funny fight (funny as all campers knew the outcome) Even Clarrise sitting back with her siblings let out a little yell of “Get his ass Y/N!” But One of those campers mainly Luke, who quickly made his way over forgetting he was supposed to help campers make friendship bracelets he had to make sure his girlfriend was okay bracelets could wait, and that she didn't shred his best friend into pieces. Jogging over he quietly grabbed his girlfriend's hand that was gripping onto Chris. I let out a quiet breath before meeting his eyes, in an instant looking into his soft gaze I dropped my hand not before I quickly gave him one last dirty look and stepped back “C’mon let’s go” Luke said as he grabbed my hand leading me away.

He leads us to sit in front of the creek as I sit I absent mindedly throw rocks at the water watching it ripple and splash. Turning back to face Luke he already gives me a knowing look to tell him why I wanted to maim him. I took a deep breath before I word vomited it out “I mean ugh! I know he's your best friend and all but sometimes he's such a dick! Saying ‘I could take you guys’ But he literally starts screaming out ‘Luke come save me she's here!’ or or ‘Guys come back Clarisse is gonna eat me!’ as if he wouldn't even enjoy that too ugh! He's just so- so ANNOYING!” Luke's hand grabbed mine again to stop me from getting heated again, his eyes flickering back to the creek to see me subconsciously making a creek look like a raging ocean. He threw his back laughing at my rant about Chris, as he calmed down he just looked down at me rubbing slow circles onto the back of my hand. 

His hands were rough and calloused but it didn't matter because when he held onto me I could feel warmth practically spread from my fingertips to my head and toes. “I'll make sure to lock him out of the cabin, he can sleep out in the cold. How bout that hmm?” He joked, craning his neck to look at me. I cracked a small smile “Maybe I'll pray for my mom to storm a bit too…” His hand let go but just to sneak behind my waist and pull me closer leaning my head on his chest “I'm sorry I got mad at Chris I know he is your friend..” I mumbled out against him I could feel him shrug against me before looking back down at me “Nah don't be sorry honestly I should have let you at him he deserved it butttt I wouldn't want my girlfriend to have to be cleaning stables all of next week” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and started to start up about what he was doing before he had to save Chris. “Wait doesn't that mean you should be helping those kids now..?” A bit of panic dawned on his face as he tugged us both up and pulled me with him as he walked (more like speed walked) “Actually uh were both going to help now!” I laughed as he tugged me along with him..

[darlingmaakun]

HIIII a little inspired by 🍓anon....can i request himeru going out for some drinks with his s/o (not necessarily alcohol) (at least in s/o's case) and when himeru gets drunk he suddenly becomes more affectionate and shows more pda, making his s/o super flustered >_< FEEL FREE TO IGNORE IF U DONT FEEL COMFORTABLE WRITING THIS BTW

gorgeous

pairing — himeru x gn ! reader

synopsis — due to rinnes amazing manipulation tactics, himeru gets really drunk and you’re on watch duty.

warnings — established relationship, fluff fluff fluff, himeru refers to himself using “i” 1 time, drinking obv, readers pronouns arent mentioned but he does call them gorgeous, crazy:b cameo

authors note — im SOOOO sorry this took so long for me to write!! im in vacation rn and ive been movint all around so ive only been able to write at night, but its finally done!!

word count — 1.1k

It was Rinne’s idea to celebrate with going out.

“It’s a big event! You don’t just drop an album everyday of the week, do you Merumeru??” he claimed.

Even though everyone was aware that he just wanted an excuse to get piss drunk and fuck with all his friends.

Which is exactly how you and himeru ended up in this situation.

Rinne, as per usual, was drunk and embarrassing the entire group. After he had coaxed almost everybody (you and (obviously) Kohaku being the exceptions), into having some sort of drink, you were stuck babysitting.

Niki was slouched over poor Kohaku crying about how Rinne is a ‘blood sucking leech’ (Niki’s words, not his) and Rinne was talking to his fourth girl of the night and this time he was determined to get in this ones pants.

You let out a pathetic sigh at the situation and look over at your boyfriend Himeru, who has been silent with a very noticeable blush on his face since Rinne practically manipulated him into drinking. He seemed like he was lost in thought, staring off into space. You put your hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

“Hey, are you alright? You zoned out there..”

Himeru looks over at your comment and looks right into your eyes, his cheeks flare even more red than before. His pupils slightly dilate, but you don’t catch that in the moment. But what you do notice, is the crooked grin that appears on his face when you two lock eyes.

“Hi—hic- baby.” he stutters out while putting his head on your shoulder. He wraps his arms around your torso. His left hand ends up on the side of your upper thigh and the right on your lower back. Your neck flushes red up to your cheeks and you turn your head so that he doesn’t notice.

But he does notice. Yeah he notices, alright. And he all but engraved that image of that image of your flustered state into your mind.

Your eyes that just so happened to away from his golden ones as soon as they both meet, your hands that “accidentally” start fidgeting together, your leg that coincidentally started bouncing up and down as soon as his fingertips graze it.

yeah, what a coincidence.

Whilst Himeru is having his borderline epiphany, you finally build up the courage to look back at your blue haired boyfriend. You take in his current state. His golden eyes that usually hold a look of sternness, have resorted to, in simpler terms, puppy dog eyes. His lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows raised, he looked almost surprised.

“H-hi Himeru..” You nervously smile at him and slightly press your hand to his shoulder. He takes the hint and sits back up in the booth you both were sat in. All without breaking eye contact. He stares into your eyes and doesn’t say a word before smashing his lips onto yours. You squint as the throbbing from your teeth being smashed together flows throughout your entire body. Even so, sudden expression of love takes you by surprise, but you melt into it as your hands find their way to the sides of his heads. His hands dance from his side to your thighs as they eventually find their place back to their waist, where they always end up.

As you both pull away and catch your breath, you pull him back into a kiss. This time, he’s the one shocked, as you’re not one to do such an act of affection in public, but his lips eventually start to move in a rhythm that matches yours. What really takes him by surprise though, is when you fall over on your back into the booth and pull him on top of you. The kiss separates and erupts into a fit of giggles from both parties.

You sit up from your position and lean against the wall of the booth. Himeru gets up too and sits normally while looking at you. You both take a minute to breathe and take in the current situation. Both of your faces are burning red, but you’re pretty sure his is mostly from the alcohol ingested in his system. His hair is slightly messy from your hands and his shirt is wrinkled from the previous various positions. His lips are red and slightly swollen from all the kissing. You look down at yourself and attempt to evaluate your own state, which is basically the same as his.

“you’re so gorgeous.”

It was quiet. Nearly a whisper, and if you weren’t paying very close attention, you wouldn’t have caught it. But you did, and it made you snap your head to look at him so fast, you thought you pulled a muscle in your neck. The words made your knees go weak, so much so that you’re certainly sure that if you were standing you would fall over. Your cheeks flush red and by instinct you take your hands to cover it. This caused quite a stir out of Himeru and he quickly reached his hand to grab yours before he even knew what he was doing.

“please don’t cover your face.” He pleads. It takes you by surprise seeing him ask such a thing since he usually has his guard up at all times, and overall just wouldn’t usually say something like this. You bring your hands down slowly and look him in the eyes. He giggles at your slightly surprised expression and puts his face really close to yours. At first you thought he was leaning in to kiss you, but Himeru had other ideas.

“I love you.”

Though the room was crowded, it felt as if you two were the only ones there. The words he whispered right against your lips were only for you to know that night. Your lips crack into a smile as you run your hands through his hair for the nth time that night and pull him into a kiss. It wasn’t like the other ones though, quick and eager, no, this one was slow. Though silent, this kiss spoke a million words between you two, the way it usually was.

Somewhere in the restaurant, Niki’s currently doing some dumb shit with Rinne on one side of his encouraging whatever he’s doing, with Kohaku on the other side trying to stop him (and stop Rinne in the meantime). Kohaku goes to make an attempt to ask Himeru to help him, but it quickly disappointed when he sees his out of character-like state and your flushed face. He sighs and switches his attention back to the two drunken idiots he’s stuck babysitting.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

hi baby! im sure ure flooded with requests but ive been feeling really insecure ab my hip dips n stretch marks lately n ur writing really comforts me... so i was wondering if u could write smt ab dokyeom or anyone u want rlly! finding reader feeling bad ab their hip dips and stretchmarks and he comforts them? totally ur choice love u! ❤

oh girl i have had the WORLDS WORST body image week ever so this request hits difffffffffffffferent. i'm so happy to do that -- for both of us. warnings: female reader, body image issues are a major theme, descriptions of physical insecurities of the reader, mention of a doctor visit, and possibly a bit angsty with a happy ending

this is:

No Less a Goddess

"can i come to the gym with you?" you ask shyly, peeking around the corner at your boyfriend, who is changing into his shorts and tee to work out.

"huh?" seokmin asks, whirling to look at you with his arms in the sleeves of his shirt, having been interrupted in pulling it over his head. "you've never asked before! i'd love to have you come along!"

"what do i wear?" you ask, unable to keep from smiling at his enthusiasm.

"anything you want!" he says. "just make sure it's easy to move in."

about fifteen minutes later, the two of you are walking down the stairs to the gym in your shared apartment complex, hand in hand. seokmin's sunny smile and idle chatter is almost enough to distract you from the growing knot of discomfort in your stomach.

sure enough, the second you walk in, you notice a woman running on the treadmill. her short shorts and sports bra are stylishly coordinated, at a stark contrast to your ratty gray sweatpants and ugly oversized tee. her legs are muscular, and you can't see a single ounce of fat on her. you swallow hard and try to pay attention to seokmin instead, who is excitedly showing you around. "and this is where i painstakingly grew the arms you have come to know and love," he's saying, pointing at the barbells. "you should say thank you."

"i appreciate your service," you say with a small salute, and seokmin chuckles.

"so, what are your fitness goals?" seokmin asks, shrugging off his jacket.

you have to appreciate how the gray tee hugs the contours of his body, so you just say, "i just want to be a part of whatever it is you've got going on." which makes him beam.

you join seokmin for leg day. surprisingly, you're amazed by how much you're actually able to do -- apparently years of working on your feet has paid off, and while you're not perfect, you can mostly keep up with your very athletic boyfriend. it's actually kind of fun, too, which is no surprise -- seokmin makes everything fun.

but in the back of your mind, you're still thinking about that woman on the treadmill. seokmin is the most loyal man you know, and the idea of him cheating on you is actually laughable, but you can't help but compare yourself to her. that's the kind of person he deserves, you think to yourself. not a slob like me.

it had been a bad week for your body image. earlier on, you'd had to go to the urgent care for a bad case of pink eye, and the doctor had announced your weight to you out loud, which honestly felt like cruel and unusual punishment, especially given that it was the heaviest you'd ever been. the sting was only exacerbated when you went shopping for a few new outfits for a cruise you were taking next month with seokmin. your love handles, your thick thighs covered in stretch marks and cellulite, your hip dips -- all these insecurities you'd always had seemed to zoom into the forefront of your mind and start yelling at you.

you hadn't yet confided in seokmin, because you knew exactly how he'd react. but it becomes impossible not to tell him when, post-gym and post-shower, he corners you in the bedroom and sits you firmly down on the mattress. "something's up," he insists. "what's wrong?"

"i'm feeling insecure," you admit, avoiding his gaze.

"about what?" he asks.

"have you noticed i've gained weight?" you ask in a small voice.

"no," he responds, confused. "is that what this is about?"

"at the doctor's office," you continue softly, "i found out i'm the heaviest i've ever been." you take a shuddering breath. "and i'm getting more and more stretch marks. and i just feel like you're so out of my league. i mean, look at you." you gesture to him in all his freshly showered glory.

seokmin just blinks. "well? do you have anything to say?" you ask him, feeling a little hurt at his lack of response.

he hesitates. "well, i'm not sure what to say," he says slowly.

"well, thanks," you say, standing up and stalking out of the room. "super helpful, babe."

"no, wait! come back!" seokmin says, sounding panicked. "let me finish."

"oh, was there more?" you shoot at him. "because your silence was really loud."

he sighs. "honey, i understand you're feeling upset and i get it, i really do. but you have to let me finish talking."

his patient tone of voice grates at your already frayed nerves, but you bite your tongue and sit back down on the bed. this is seokmin, you remind yourself. seokmin, the kindest person alive. seokmin, who never meant to hurt you even when he did. and seokmin, who always made things right.

he reaches over and grabs your hand. "it's hard for me to respond to that because to me, you're perfect," he begins. you scoff, and he squeezes your hand. "hear me out," he implores.

you sigh but finally turn to look him in the eyes. he gives a small smile before starting again, playing absently with your fingers. "your body is ..." he says, and trails off, his eyes devouring you hungrily. he finally shakes himself back to normal and continues. "ugh. i'm gonna get distracted if i go into more detail, but let's just say i'm more attracted to you now than i ever have been, and that's saying something." he laughs quietly. "it's hard for me to understand the insecurities because to me, you're a goddess."

"okay," you say hesitantly. "but that doesn't make them any less real."

"no, i know," seokmin agrees. "so i guess what i should've said is that... i'm really sorry you can't see yourself like i do right now. and i will do whatever it takes to remind you that no matter how things change, or how you change, i fell in love with you for so much more than just your body. and that's one thing that's never changing," he finishes.

you study him with a stony face for a moment. "okay, that was pretty good," you admit, finally cracking a smile.

"was it?" he asks.

"and you should be rewarded," you continue, sliding closer to him on the bed in the most suggestive way you can muster.

he blushes. "well...i'll never say no to that," he agrees, pulling you closer to him for a kiss.

[pleucas]

good evening. it is me again, skk hater - no air quotes because i am completely genuine in my hatred. this will be a long one.

i shall first begin with a thanks. i do write pretty often, and my ego has been sufficiently stroked. i suppose even the most despicable people have taste - at least in matters besides ships.

you have asked for my reasoning behind my vehement hatred of skk, and i think it's time for me to provide.

i'm going to be completely truthful - it's all Akutagawa's fault. i love him and his stupid victorian child fashion and british accent and dumb haircut deeply. so, naturally dazai is the bane of my existence.

now, even though i hated dazai more each time Akutagawa appeared, i actually didn't mind SKK for some time. i didn't get it cause Chuuya rarely actually shows up in the manga, which i read straight through without detouring for any of the light novels, but i was fine with it. they're fruity in most all their interactions, i shall never deny that because it's clearer than glass and i'm not that delusional, but i didn't see much substance beyond that.

then i read the novels and slowly came to the conclusion that i actually hate dazai even when Akutagawa isn't in the picture. and when i say HATE i mean HATE. he is the pebble lodged in my shoe, the lego on my cousin's floor, the table leg i stub my toe on, and so forth.

Chuuya, on the other hand, i love. he's great. amazing. stormbringer? peak. so, OBVIOUSLY, he could do much better than dazai. soooo much better. i mean, look at him

every time dazai and Chuuya have their objectively gay moments with each other, i feel like im watching my friend crawl back to their toxic ex.

that's how i feel with most dazai ships, and this is because dazai is always a smug prick towards the person he's being shipped with, and because i love Akutagawa i am not amused by this in the slightest. feels like he's rubbing salt in the wound. i actually like dazai more as a character when he's on the back foot. a (nonromantic) example would be him in The Day I Picked Up Dazai (A Side). dazai and Oda's dynamic is probably the best one dazai has in my eyes - though i don't ship them in the slightest. additionally, i think i, if only for a moment, actually liked dazai when he got ""killed"" in that one chapter. because it was a loss for him. in that moment, he (well, at least we're led to believe) got what he had wished for so often during the series, though it was not on his own terms. therefore, it felt almost like poetic tragedy - i thought it would have been a fitting end for him, and if it truly had been, i might like him now. this, as you know, was not the case.

furthermore, dazai is a fruitcake with or without Chuuya. it's not specific towards him, so i don't think anything real can be drawn from the vaguely homoerotic behaviour. i mean, dazai ballroomed danced with Sigma five minutes after meeting him. man just likes men, i don't know what to say

in conclusion, i feel like their relationship is unbalanced. dazai is never really shown to be all too worked up by Chuuya, even when he seems to be on the losing end of their bickering, but Chuuya is constantly harassed. while it's admittably funny, i don't like it in a romantic sense, nor do i see it in anyway that's different from Kunikida or Sigma.

that's about everything i can say without going on an unorganized tangent. i could bring up more specific issues i have that stem from Stormbringer and the Fifteen novel, but i have actual things ive been putting off writing - there's a whole book being sidelined by SKK right now. this has been a good way of procrastinating, but it must come to an end eventually

as for titles, you can call me Rimu. like the tree,

so, with an abundance of hate, Rimu <3

(ps: you might noticed that dazai's name is not capitalized at all in this ask. this is because he does not deserve that level of respect.)

holy hell Rimu. Hello, formally I guess — I will follow in your footsteps and leave dazai's name uncapitalized, because that was very funny

i've been putting off responding to this for a while but please believe that i have been thinking about it and periodically re-reading it. it's one of the most entertaining asks i've received LOL

to actually respond without completely proving your point of skkers procuring essays (though i'm sure you realize the irony upon review of your own accolade), i'll keep it brief. you had me in the first half, ngl, cuz i'm pretty sure 89% of us [skkers] agree, on a generalized scale, that dazai is the worst and Chuuya deserves everything and more (and better). he's the type of character that i enjoy as pure fiction, bc i know that if i knew him in person i'd hate him. same goes for my opinions on irl dazai — so asagiri did a (rare) justice for his authors there ig

abt everything else tho (imbalance, not being as affected by chuuya, similarity to other ships, and lack of intrigue)... i had a lot of responses prepared but really all of it can be summed up here as this:

like ngl man. LOL. i do blame the anime and its horrendous adaptation of dazai's character and skk's interactions, but that's another can of worms... that i have... opinons... about.

thank you for sharing your thoughts Rimu, i enjoyed reading through it a lot. keep it going!

with a mutual abundance of hate, Cas <3 <3 <3

[melto]

OH DISTANCED TANUMA SITTING ALONE ON THE BENCH NOT LOOKING AT THEM NOT BEING PART OF THIS CONVERSATION ON PURPOSE....ARGHHH....like tanuma isnt like actually in this part of the manga so this addition of him being present in the anime always stuck out to me and it was always just a little bit heart breaking. tanuma suddenly meeting taki who immediately is taking natsume's attention and offering him more help than tanuma ever feels like he's been able to do. she's right to the point of offering information about yokai, notices that natsume is injured and is able to patch him up all while tanuma stands there and can do nothing but think about how like. absolutely helpless and useless he is, and that natsume now has someone better who knows about the yokai that he can talk to. tanuma thought they were getting closer but the distance is suddenly so great between them again, and he doesnt know how he's supposed to go about closing it now when it feels like he has nothing left to offer. and then later he runs into natsume and asks if he needs help and gets turned away, but at least nyanko-sensei offers some insight about natsume to tanuma. "he's so thoughtless" in reference to natsume not wanting to bother people by reaching out does feel like a genuine attempt to comfort tanuma. and tanuma runs into taki, who natsume did ask for help which can't. feel good at all, when he's so often pushed away but. well that's his best friend, even if he's not sure if natsume feels the same that's his best friend and insecure or not he's not going to turn his back or anything.

and with tanuma finding the information he asked taki to find....Gahh. iirc taki doesnt even come back in the manga to tell natsume that she found the information, and the anime having it be tanuma is pretty awesome esp with the way they've added him into it. he can feel like he's done something for natsume, and taki telling natsume means he gets to know that tanuma cares for him and isnt going to turn away. Which makes the like, difference between the sub & dub of this part crazy, bc the subs (at least the ones ive always used) taki says to natsume "you told me not to tell anyone, but..." and in the dub she says "he [tanuma] said i wasnt supposed to tell you that, but..." which ultimately is very funny. i love a girl who'll snitch<3 but gahh...GAHH much to think about in both cases. eats glass and all.

[teagballs]

hello angel! I was wondering if you could write a Dennis Reynolds x fem!reader one shot where basically, reader is apart of the gang and has been for a while. Surprisingly, one time when Dennis was really angry, she calmed him down. Everyone was shocked the first, but slowly overtime got used to it. Dennis always ignored the warm feeling in his chest when she calmed him, but when he went on a date and got really mad and the girl tried to calm him down, he got even more angry than realised he liked reader??

sorry if it’s confusing 😭🫶

calmed | dennis reynolds x reader

read part 2 here!!

authors note: HEYOOO still alive. thank u sm for this prompt anon! tbh it was a bit of a challenge and i struggled 😭 i always struggle to write for dennis. i hope i did this idea justice cuz i love it. also this is my first iasip fic im publishing yayayay please send more requests for it im sooo deep into it rn. ive got a dee fic in the works rn.

cw: average dennis insanity ofc, swearing, mentions of D.E.N.N.I.S ing girls so yk, mentions of sex.

fic under the cut!

You can recall the first time you ever saw Dennis freak out.

"Idiots! Fucking idiots all of them!" Dennis ranted in his usual methodic tone. The gang wasn't phased, this sort of Dennis rant was something they'd become accustomed to. For you - the latest addition the gang - you had never witnessed one of Dennis' outbursts. It was probably that empathic nature or yours that made you want to act, to console him. And you did. Despite the gang's protests, once they noticed you about to leap into action. They knew it was better to just let Dennis ride out the anger and come down again. But you reached out and touched his arm. The gang collectively held their breath, expecting Dennis to bark out some obscenities in response, but it never came. The feeling of your hand on him made him turn to face you, to look at you.

"Dennis, it's okay, we'll fix this, I promise."

And he calmed. And took a deep breath.

"You know what? You're right. I can fix this." Dennis exhaled. Everyone was shocked,

"What the fuck just happened." Mac said blankly. In the whole time they had known him, Dennis had never been able to be pacified from one of these insane outbursts.

But then it became frequent, because Dennis's raging was frequent. Every time he would begin ranting and raving, you were able to calm him down. It was a voice of serene amidst the chaos. It went on for years like this, as you became part of the gang.

You were usually there hanging out with the gang when things would go wrong, and you'd be able to solve it and calm him down. But today, that wasn't the case. Today, Dennis was on a date.

Dennis was in the process of getting this woman to sleep with him, his stock procedure. But the date had been falling apart. It first started with his suit getting ruined. After dressing himself up in a nice blazer and shirt outfit, it was massacred by spaghetti after Mac spilt it on top of Dennis. Mac was haphazardly carrying it through their shared kitchen and failed to notice him.

"Christ Mac, what the hell are you doing!"

But that was okay. He could manage. He would just have to change. And although this did delay him, he could still D.E.N.N.I.S this girl. He could just say he was late because he was helping some old lady cross the street or looking after a stray kitten.

After successfully making it out of the door, he began to drive to the date. A cute restaurant not too far from his apartment, a picturesque rendezvous. But this was stalled even further by the lack of parking spaces available. Dennis groaned at threw his head back against the car headrest. After circling the block for what felt like the 100th time, Dennis decided to just park further away and book it to the restaurant. He settled for a tucked away corner of the city. Sure, it was far, but hey, at least it was a space.

Finally, after running to the entrance of the restaurant, he saw his date waiting, arms folded.

"Dennis! There you are! What took you so long?Are you.. okay? You look at a little out of sorts." Cadence spoke.

"Sorry. Sorry. Some old hags cat was- was trying to cross the road. I had to run from the other side of town." Dennis panted. He didn't expect the journey to have made him so debilitated. 'Not a perfect excuse, either. I might have messed up the wording..' he thought.

Dennis and his date, Cadence finally entered the restaurant. Dennis regained most of his breath and approached the host.

"Reynolds, table for two." He told the host.

The host scanned their notebook with a pen and searching eyes.

"Sorry, sir, I don't see anything for Reynolds here. Are you sure you booked for this restaurant?" The host replied. They lacked any kind of care for the situation, replying in a detached tone. Most likely years of working customer service had drained them.

"Am I sure I booked for- do you think I'm some kind of bumbling buffoon? Of course I fucking did!" Dennis snarled. Seemingly the frustrations from the evening were overflowing and spilling out.

"What do you take me for some kind of idiot!?" Dennis continued to bawl.

At this point, his date was getting embarrassed of his uncontrolled emotions. Cadence leaned in and touched his forearm. And maybe if it wasn't Dennis Reynolds she had performed this action on, it could have worked and soothed him.

"Dennis its okay, we can go eat somewhere else if you want?"

Immediately Dennis shook her grip off him.

"If I want? Why would I want to eat somewhere else when I made a fucking reservation here. What I want is to eat here!" He snapped, tapping his finger on the hosts notebook.

"Dennis, it's okay. We will do whatever you want." Cadence tried again.

"What I want? What I want is... well, what would you know about fixing shit! You're just..! Well, you're not.. not." Oh. And that's when it hit him.

What Dennis wanted now was not a reservation at this pseudo-rich restaurant. And he knew he certainly didn't want Cadence to try and comfort him. Her words didn't seem to hold any mindfulness or meaning... but yours did. She wasn't you. What he wanted was you. That's all he ever wanted. Everything else he had been doing for was a pathetic search to fill the void. The women he was trying to do, D.E.N.N.I.S, the dates he'd go on, the sex he would have, it all meant nothing.

All he wanted was you. A pure undivided love and something he had never felt before. Dennis had an unprofound realisation that he liked someone. Something most come to grips with in adolescents. But for him, that realisation was something he had never had. It made his heart ache and burn. He needed to act. He needed to call you and spill his heart out. Because no one was like you, and that's all he could think about as he turned on his heel and left the restaurant.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

OOHHH Ive already been thinking about How the order of who Valentino meets First, Vox or Angel would realate to Vox's Jealousy:

Like, If Val and Angel are together since before the partnership their relationship has been going on for so long no wonder Val is so attached to him! is a form of comfort to him, something he is so used to having that the threat of losing it scares him, and something Vox has been "rivaling" for a while, but in that case i feel either Vox would have already done something about it or get "used" to it, so idk

NOW If Valentino’s relationship with Angel happens after he was already “with” Vox that would mean his jealousy even more interesting, cuz Angel is a new interest of Val that he clearly treats different from previous ones, at least from Vox reactions, maybe he was just as jealous of Val's previous "toys" but i don't think that, i think he notices how much more intense Valentino's obssession with Angel Dust is, and he doesn't like It one bit

Don't know witch of this scenarios are closer to canon but both are interesting enough i guess

done something about it or get "used" to it I mean the man is PETTY, I don't think he'd used to it. And if Val was attached to Angel, Vox wouldn't be able to do shit about him.

Why do I think Angel met Val first? Because to me, it makes sense that Angel fell for him when Val was still a nobody. Angel is neither dumb nor evil*, and in my opinion, the Overlord (or even a mobster with a position established enough to hang out with Vox) would be a major red flag for him. But a young, aspiring porn producer just looking for his first big star? Not so threatening. One can truly believe in the idea of a fruitful partnership, especially if love is involved. Since Angel has 40 years more experience living in Hell, I can't imagine him being easily tricked into the contract. The only way I can see him signing off his soul would be based on the conviction that Valentino won't hurt him.

Babe, for this whole plan to work for us I will need your help. A little power boost, let's call it. Don't freak out, that's not that big of a deal, but we need to do this if we want to kickstart our project. Treat it like an investment in our future, amorcito.

*it was pointed out to me that's a terrible oversimplification from my side and I agree. Lemme clarify: I excluded the possibility of Angel being simply desperate - as probably many people that fell for Val - because I think before Valentino wrecked it, his life had been good enough to not take such risk. Like, Angel is - and always has been - the one making money, Valentino is just parasite leeching on his talent.

[pentopaper23]

Collection of one shots revolving around Anthony comforting his siblings while they are injured or sick.

TRIGGER WARNING - CANCER AND CANCER TREATMENT.

CHAPTER FIVE - Francesca - IV stands

Francesca was Anthony’s quietest sibling and that was never more apparent then right at this very moment while the nurse hooked her up to her weekly chemo treatment. The pair sat in silence while the nurse inserted the IV and the only show of pain was her hand tightening around his.

At fourteen Francesca has been a health happy teenager, that was until she started to have fevers that kept Anthony up a night sitting by her bedside with a wet cloth in his hand. Her arms and leg became covered in bruises at the slightest touch and her normal flushed and healthy complexion had been become greyish and washed out. She started having nose bleeds and migraines. But what eventually drove them to the hospital was Daphne finding her passed out on the bathroom floor blood coming a cut on her head from hitting on the sink as she fainted.

“It’s leukaemia. Early stages, but it’s still leukaemia.”

Anthony had been standing with Dr James in the hallway when he was told the news and he bit his lip so to not cry in front of the stranger.

“What do we do?” he asked wiping a hand down his face.

“I can’t give you an exact timeframe or information right now, we need to do more tests. But the likely outcome will be chemotherapy. In most cases, for girls in Francesca’s age group it around two years of treatment and another year of monitoring for new cancer cell growth.”

Anthony nodded a small sob escaping his throat. The doctor smiled sadly at him and gestured for them to take a seat.

“Can I be frank my Lord?”

“Of course, yes.”

“This will be marathon not a sprint. Your sister is going to be very unwell for a very long time. I understand that you are the guardian for your siblings, you have seven, yes?” The doctor asked, trying to be as gentle as possible with the man that sat next to her.

“Yes, our parents have both passed” Anthony said nodded but not looking at the doctor.

“It would be my recommendation to hire a live in cancer nurse my Lord. Francesca will at some point need round the clock care and I’m not saying that you we be lacking in your care of her, but it will be a full-time job on top of your current responsibilities. Bathing her, toilet trips, changing of the chemo port and IVs….” The Doctor stopped talking when she noticed that Anthony was now openly crying and struggling to contain his sobs.

“Will she die?” He sobbed out looking at the doctor as if the breath has just been stolen from his lungs. His eyes filled a terror that Dr James was all too familiar with. She had seen it a hundred times form parents and relatives that she had had the same conversation with. But never form some so young and with so much on their shoulders. The story of the Bridgerton family was not unknown in the hospital and delivering this new was one of the hardest she had ever had to do.

“I don’t know,” Doctor James said truthfully, “We have caught it early which is fantastic, but I won’t lie and say that it’s a possibility. Cancer in children is complicated compared to adults, they are smaller, they can’t always communicate what they need or are feeling, and their organs can eventually only take so much. But I will do everything I can see her through this.”

That’s where they were now, two years later and to many chemo appointments to count. Now sixteen Francesca was a shell of the young girl she once was, looking small and fragile in her chemo chair with a green tinge to her face. A scarf was wrapped around her bald head, her face was sunken, and her bones were visible all over her body. She was always cold, so she was currently wearing a jumper that had once been his, she was tucked in under several blankets and had horrid some socks on that Daphne had tried to knit. More often than not one of her brothers needed to carry her from room to room with her nurse following along with her IV stand and school has become a far-off dream. She had recently been having more bad days then good, the treatments for sapping any energy or hunger that she had, and she was very quickly fading away right before her families pained eyes. Sometimes Anthony found himself just sitting by her bed holding her hand and counting the breathes that she took hoping that he would never have to stop counting. Her weak chest would move unevenly up and down, and he hold his own breath when for a second her chest didn’t rise back up fast enough. He had once thought that the pain of losing his parents would be the worst thing that he would ever have to go thought. But watching his sister seemingly die, was something that would haunt him and place scars upon his own soul.

With quick practice Anthony held a bucket under her chin as she vomited up what little food, she had eaten that morning. She started to sob when she finished, gut knotting sobs that Anthony knew all too well. Over the last year he had been her turn a dark corner and was struggling to help her find a way out. Anthony rested her head against his chest and ran a hand over to head.

“I wanna go home” she begged and sobbed into Anthony chest, and it almost broke him. After that first night in hospital Anthony swore that he wouldn’t cry in front of her, choosing instead to cry in his study or behind the locked door of his bathroom when it all became too much, and her suffering reached in and ripped at his heart. Every cry, every scream of pain that he couldn’t take away and every beg from her was something that he carried with him very day. It was dark cloud that took the forms of IV stands, orange filled fucking chemo bags and the endless hospital visits and overnights stays and missed moments.

So many missed moments with her siblings and future moments that she may not see. Moments he may not see. Her graduation, her wedding, her children. These thoughts assaulted him every time he looked at her and could do nothing to help. He was helpless. Useless his mind would whisper in dark moments solitude. When he sat by bed or while he showered and let the water wash away the tears that he could no longer hold in.

“I know my love, just a little longer.” He tried to smooth and looked over to see how much chemo was left in the bag, a little over half empty. Like his sister. Half empty, running fumes and sheer luck.

Francesca was dying and Anthony was utterly helpless.