#anyway if any of the links are wrong oops. sorry

[roys-our-boy]

Tagged by @tea-of-destiny, thank you so much! Finally home from work and caught up on the dash so it's time to sit down and do this lol

The goal here is to spell out your URL with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters. Never have I regretted my username as much as in this moment lmao too many vowels 😭 had to dig into my pre-covid highschool playlist for this lol

R - Ruins by Ledger. A song by Skillet's drummer, I've always loved Skillet and she's got such an amazing voice, I've always loved this song especially

O - OP.19 No.3 by Taku Iwasaki. Despite the name sounding like classical music it's very much Not lmao. It's the theme song for the Hunting Dogs in bsd and it's just so fun. Never was able to find the lyrics but I made my own probably wrong but whatever

Y - You Don't Even Know Me (Stripped) by Faouzia. Haven't heard this one in a while lol. I've always found her vocal range impressive, and her songs are fun to listen to, especially the trills in this one

S - Sleep Walking Orchestra by Bump of Chicken. The first OP from Dungeon Meshi. It's a fun little song and I've noticed I've tended to like Bump of Chicken OPs (mostly since their name and voice stood out to me lol)

O - Odd Future by UVERworld. OP 4 from MHA. Honestly this was the only other O on any of my playlists what am I going to do for the last one lmao. I might see if there's any vocaloid songs I've forgotten about that start with O

U - Unbreakable by Fireflight. A high school favourite. Also listening to it again reminded me how much I love the sound of this style of music, need to listen to it more

R - Rakuen by Fujifabric. The second season OP of Dr Stone. I've always thought the song was neat, but it's also the first time you see Ukyo so it always gave me a burst of serotonin to hear it, especially the part where you see him lmao

B - Bling-Bang-Bang-Born by Creepy Nuts. Another anime OP, and a more well known one I think. From Mashle season 2, it's just so much fun, and hard not to sing along well not to the rap I can't quite do that lol. Also I hadn't seen the music video until now and it was so fun lol

O - ODDS&ENDS by ryo. Never actually heard this song before today but again, I ran out of O songs 😭 so I found this and honestly might add it to a playlist, I'm loving it a lot. Thank you Hatsune Miku

Y - Young and Menace by Fall Out Boy. Now this brings me back lol. I think I originally added this song more for OC daydream fuel more than actually being one of my favourite songs but it's still pretty good. Not my favourite by them tho

Anyway it's getting late and I'm tired from work so I probably won't tag people this time, but if you see this, consider yourself tagged lol

[tragedy-of-commons]

HOMECOMING.

── dan heng x gn!reader

summary: Your boyfriend invites you to spend Christmas break with him and his eccentric (but lovable all the same) family. You oblige.

contains: modern and university au, established relationship, comedy and tooth-rotting fluff, christmas shopping, the astral express fam all make appearances (pre-2.7), setting is very american-inspired (sorry), cringefail exuberant reader, one hurt/comfort scene

word count: 11.4k oops

taglist: @singularity-sam, @mitsvriii, @tetrachrxmacy, @bladism, @mikashisus

notes: for @azuresaqua, written for the @/stellaronhvnters secret santa 🎄 this took all month, but i hope you like it crys!! also this totally looks fine on dark mode. if you think otherwise then ummm SHHH. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

Your phone blares with its usual grating ringtone, startling you out of your reverie.

Scrambling to pick the device up, you’re pleasantly surprised. So much so that you drop the sweatshirt in your free hand mid-fold. The caller ID reads Dan Heng, lighting up your homescreen with his contact icon.

A warmth buzzes in your chest as you look it over, a giggle erupting from your throat. The selfie is of you and him, with Dan Heng looking particularly spacey in the midst of the bustling street.

You’re now considerably less bored. You’ve been looking for an excuse to procrastinate doing your laundry all day, and it just so happens to entail talking with your lovely partner. Not waiting any longer, you clear your throat, tap the green accept button, and press the speaker to your ear.

“Hi, darling!” you chirp, shifting to sit more comfortably, “I miss you. How’re you holding up? Still in the library studying the day away?”

The other line crackles with life. “Hello. I feel the same,” Dan Heng informs you matter-of-factly, his cadence clear as a river. “And no, I’m not there anymore. It was… too crowded for my liking.”

That’s no surprise. Finals are upon the whole campus in a few days, and it shows. There is a distinct, depressing atmospheric pressure that weighs upon your fellow students. 

The scourge of exams, the final boss of the semester, the enemy of mental fortitude and peace. Though Dan Heng loves your university’s expansive library, you can imagine he’d be less enthralled when a hundred tired young adults are populating it to cram.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” you wince. “Well, look on the bright side. We’re almost done, yeah? Soon enough, the library will be solely your domain once again, and you can be a doll and skim the archives in my stead.”

His voice takes on a sarcastic lilt, affection hidden underneath the words like a hard-won reward. You think it’s an indulgence for him. “If my memory serves correctly, I had to smooth things over with the librarian on your behalf. I don’t think it’s a wise idea for you to loiter there any longer, as energetic as you are.”

How cheeky! Honestly, you’re not even that loud. Sometimes you laugh a little too hard at benign things (like the way some book titles sound out of context), or react too vibrantly at the wrong times (like exclaiming profanities after tripping over your own feet), but those aren’t crimes.

Even now, ruminating over this reasoning, you still don't understand how you got banned from the library. Unreal.

“Hey, come on now! I don’t even loiter… I just want to spend time with you, even if studying isn’t something I burden myself with. That guy has it out for me,” you insist, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. “Anyway, I’m not saying this to be rude, but…”

“But?” Dan Heng asks cautiously.

“You normally don’t call first. Is everything okay?”

You mean it when you ask. Though you love your boyfriend, he isn’t the best at initiating longform communication. Sometimes you’ll get a text with a link to a video he found interesting, or he’ll update you with life (mostly just classes and endless papers), and then you’ll respond by quadruple-texting and then maybe calling him. For hours. And then asking to come over to his dorm. And then falling asleep with him. All at your request, which he doesn’t seem to mind.

That being said, it’s atypical that he takes up the mantle, which makes you worry. And if you worry, Dan Heng feels guilty. Trying not to be patronizing, you patiently wait for him to speak on his own terms, humming to yourself idly. You could, y’know, do your laundry, but you’re not gonna do that. Free will is so cool and awesome.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” he assures, words measured. “I just have something I’d like to run by you, but I didn’t want to interrupt if you were busy.”

“I’m never busy! Spill!” Extremely curious, you pluck your phone from your ear and put Dan Heng on speaker. While you’re at it, you also stand up and pace the short length from your bed to the door of your suite, clothes abandoned on the floor. 

“It’s about this winter break. We haven’t conferred on plans yet, but I was planning to ask you if you’d meet my… my family. Of course, it all depends on your availability - don’t feel too rushed to answer, I’d just like to know in advance so I can get things in order on my end.”

Woah, what just happened? You stop walking to think, gears spinning and grinding and pushing all sorts of implications. His family. 

Dan Heng has one, yes, he divulges details every once in a while and elaborates on his mishmash of a homelife when you ask, but you’ve never heard him refer to these mystical figures as family. They’ve always been referred to as my friend, followed by their name. You know them well, committing each to memory despite not having met them yet: March, Caelus, Welt, and Himeko. 

Of course, you pester your boyfriend about them. Nothing too invasive, just remembering the important details. Asking for updates about March’s creative ventures or inquiring if Himeko’s coffee has gotten any more palatable, to name a few. 

In turn, Dan Heng would make a comment about how they also pester him about you. It’s like a big game of telephone - this indirect communication is what you’re used to. It’s kind of surreal to think about actually meeting them after all this time.

Then the joy comes. He wants to share this part of his life with you. Is this the natural next step in your relationship, like all seasoned married couples fondly reflect back on? Dan Heng wants to spend three and half weeks with you, uninterrupted, at home. His home.

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them away, grinning like an absolute fool. Does he really think you’ll say no? You’d already do anything to make him happy. Despite being several buildings and crosswalks away from him right now, your hearts feel impossibly close together.

(It’s not like you have anything else planned.)

That thought is pushed away as quickly as it comes. No time for you to be bitter when it’s the season of giving and all things cheerful! This opportunity is nothing short of a blessing… you’re saved from being cramped up inside the inevitably deserted hall for the entirety of break. You’re saved from having to admit to Dan Heng that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do like everyone else. 

Shock, joy, relief. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh, breathy. With a repressed-young-man-trained-ear, you catch a soft sigh of relief dissipating on the other line. “Yes, of course I want to meet them! Dude, this is so exciting! What if I died? What if I blew up the entirety of campus in my merriment? What then?”

He is far too used to your theatrics to react too strongly to them at this point. “...I wouldn’t put it past you. But I’m glad you said yes. There’s just the issue of details to work out.”

Dan Heng proposes different times on different days to leave. Well, he probably went more in depth than that - he likes to schedule and plan for the future, even if he doesn’t always stick to those self-imposed regulations in the end - probably droning on about the cost of gas or something. But you’re way too shell-shocked to respond coherently, muffling squeals and noncommittal hums that give away exactly how much you’re not paying attention.

Digesting about half of the information, you bring up what you have left to do before winter break after he does the same: registration for next semester’s classes, turning in textbooks for certain courses (thank the stars renting is affordable here), and the remaining days riddled with finals. 

Despite how daunting these tasks are for others, you find yourself enjoying the denouement. Guessing on scantrons has gotten you pretty far, and the other obligations can be swiftly eliminated through sheer will and lots of Christmas music. Your Spotify listening history must look like some kind of tinsel-festooned warzone.

This will be your first ever Christmas with Dan Heng. He’s never been extremely festive by any means, but you cajoled him into a matching Halloween costume a month ago, and he is fond of horror movies despite how silly they can be, offering little bits of trivia or his critiques on the film’s score. 

You think this holiday, spent at his home, in his hometown - will be the source of many happy memories. It’ll also, hopefully, be another endless source of teasing. 

Images flit through your mind, the most notable of which being your stoic boyfriend in a truly hideous red and green sweater. You snicker to yourself until your amusement is disturbed by Dan Heng promptly clearing his throat. 

He says your name in that soft way that makes you weak in the knees. You’re under his spell just as much as he is under yours. You should take to reminding him of that more often. “Just to be clear, is this alright with you?”

It’s so much more than alright, you think. Winter, for all of its bitter cold and unforgiving responsibilities, still teems with life as the leaves die. For every day you’ve spent alone during the last two Christmases, you’ll be repaid with one in kind spent with Dan Heng and the people he trusts most.

You’re blessed with the sweet thought that you’re now a part of those treasured, trustworthy few as well. 

You know you’ve been treasured for a long time, but feeling it actualized, solidified in action, is as homey and warm as a burning hearth.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I am, darling. I’m so excited that I think I’m shaking!”

You tighten your grip on your phone, almost leaving indents in the shitty case, attempting to still your vibrating fingers. His response is a mumble along the lines of you should probably eat something, and I’m glad. Dan Heng can be a little awkward, especially over the phone, but that just speaks of his sincerity. He’s glad you’re coming. 

You scuttle over to the window beside your bed, yanking the blinds askew to peek outside. A glimpse of the first frost coating the student parking lot promises something more. Something magical and childlike.

Joy. You have a feeling you’re going to be extremely insufferable to any and all scrooges (people rightfully sick of dealing with your chipper attitude) in the coming days. Oh well, they can suck it up because it’s the most wonderful time of the year, and you’re in love with the most amazing person in the world. 

You tell him not to worry, which he sighs at, and then the brunt of the conversation is over. The following silence is calm but electric, dragging on for just the right amount of time. A well-deserved respite, you think. 

“I love you,” you confess.

“...I love you too. Touch base soon.”

With that, the call ends abruptly. Your cheeks feel hot and you’re reinvigorated, daydreaming of Dan Heng’s expressions obscured by distance - you want nothing more than to see him, but you know your partner well enough to realize when he needs a break; to realize when he needs his alone time. You would never begrudge him for it.

That was a fucking whirlwind.

You shove your phone in your pocket after nudging the blinds back in place. There’s so much to do, and you’re definitely gonna need another run-down of the schedule (preferably in person), but for now, you’ll let yourself be over the moon and overrun with task paralysis. 

Triumphantly, you turn to flip off your abandoned pile of laundry. Free will is so cool and awesome.

“We are so back!”

You’re so impatient that you’ve started counting the hours.

The final stretch is a lot more boring than you thought it was going to be. Picking a time to check out of your dorm, fixing up any scuffs on the walls from your shitty posters before room inspection, actually passing your classes. The normal stuff. 

Both you and Dan Heng decided that you would leave at around three in the morning on the first day of break. It sounded bewildering at first, and you had levelled him with a look that made him hurriedly elaborate.

“In order to get there at a reasonable time, it’s the best way to go,” he’d said over coffee. “The drive isn’t more than a few hours, but if we leave right after routine inspection, we’d be arriving in the middle of the night.”

Though the mental image of showing up on a quaint little home’s doorstep in your pajamas and waking up the whole neighborhood with your knocking is funny, it’s not funny enough to quell your nerves. 

You’ve noticed, usually in the midst of trying to be productive, that the excitement is weighing heavily on your heart. Your hands are perpetually shaky, you’re sweating disgusting buckets, and you’re sure you look as if you’ve lost your marbles to any soul brave enough to strike up conversation.

That last part came to your attention when Bronya, your desk neighbor in your Interpersonal Communications class, dared ask you if she could borrow a pencil. She barely got the question out before she asked if you were alright. And if Bronya asks you if you’re alright, it means that you must look terrible. 

Sure enough, you are getting less and less sleep, and you’ve been prone to twitching. In retrospect, you probably had that wild look in your eye that screamed I am at rock bottom and it’s in the public’s best interest that I’m contained.

But you’re not at rock bottom! You’re just nervous, and it’s weird when you’re nervous, because such an occurrence is as rare as a blue moon. You’re going to be meeting Dan Heng’s family in a matter of days, and you’re expected to behave as a normal, functioning member of society. Unbelievable. Even the love of your life has noticed the difference in your behavior - he seems disturbed but respectful. 

You recall him asking if you were ill, which you had vehemently denied. Then he kissed you under the thin covers of his bed, and everything was fine for a moment.

But you think you’re feeling better on this day in particular. To distract yourself from the anxiety, you’ve sunk deeper into the holiday cheer. With Dan Heng at your side, you’ve blown off classes for the day to go gift shopping. The outlet mall near your university is always bustling, but during this time of year, you’d think there’s an overpopulation crisis wreaking havoc on your city.

Escalators are crammed with excited children dragging their parents along, there are decorations painstakingly put up in every nook and cranny, and you have a mission to see through.

“Thanks for ditching to help me out,” you preface. “It’d be way too difficult to shop for your family on my own. Just the idea of stress-buying things they may not even like… ugh. Also, wow! I realized you haven’t told me jack shit about them! I’m actually clueless.”

Dan Heng is not amused, but he doesn’t outright refute your assertion. “I suppose you have a point. And I didn’t ditch class,” he emphasizes, ears red. “Psychology got canceled.”

Here, among the sea of people, Dan Heng looks his least confident. While you, the person known for befriending every stray cat you meet, look your best.

The juxtaposition makes you feel fuzzy, and you know in your heart that he would've helped you anyway, even if he had class. He can be so obvious but so subtle at the same time. You tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt once, purely affectionate. 

“Right. Uh, where do we start? Who’s the easiest to shop for?” you wonder aloud, crossing the stretches of marble and doing your best to peer down the massive store-lined strip. “We could start with March. She’s into crafty stuff, right?”

Your boyfriend tames a cowlick in his dark hair. “Yes. You seem to have a plan figured out already, but she uses up heaps of film while taking photos. An arts and crafts store would likely have the 600 type for her Polaroid. That’s what I had in mind in terms of a gift she’d appreciate.”

“We seem to be on the same page, but that just sounds so… impersonal! Bit of a safe choice, don’t you think? Let’s play it by ear and see what they have. I’m sure she’d also appreciate something handmade. I think I have enough time to DIY a gift; they probably have kits for all sorts of stuff.”

Dan Heng is starting off in the direction of the correct storefront. The display window is easily spotted, plastered with all kinds of paper mache ornaments. “You don’t need to fret. Knowing her, she’ll love anything that comes from you.”

You blink, grinning. “Really? Didn’t know I was so popular.”

“You have no idea,” sighs Dan Heng.

Warmly titled Make n’ Create, the door chimes, signifying your entry. Immediately, you’re assaulted by the smell of candles - a few hundred thousand, you hazard. 

Scents of vanilla and evergreen paired with cinnamon burn your nostrils as you survey the aisles of winding shelves overflowing with endless possibilities. Almost forgetting to return the greeting of the woman behind the counter, you snap out of your stupor and drag your boyfriend along.

Everything looks enticing… your savings account is telling you to be responsible, but your heart is telling you to snatch up and squirrel away any item of interest just in case. You wander the marble floor under the bright fluorescents, humming under your breath. “Hey, we can probably save some time and split up. Could you go look for the film? We’ll definitely get that along with whatever catches my eye.”

Relieved to have something to do, Dan Heng nods and disembarks from your side, perilously weaving between other shoppers buzzing with excitement. He mentioned that he deliberately put off Christmas shopping since you insisted on doing it together, the thought alone satisfying. 

The prospect of scrawling both of your names on the same box, passed off into eager hands. The words will read From: Dan Heng and his partner.

Rounding a corner, the pottery and ceramics section calls to you like a siren. There are stocks upon stocks of white, unpainted Christmas trees and wreaths, advertised as blank canvases to decorate as your own - paint included. Those are cute, but something relevant year-round would probably be received better. 

Impressions, impressions. Your gaze drops lower, dutifully searching…

Aha!

Ceramic jewelry dishes. Same gimmick as the trees and wreaths, but not necessarily seasonal. There are a few different types among the kits - heart-shaped, some with hinges that open and close, even some with music box elements with heftier price tags. 

Your intuition slaps you across the face multiple times. March will love one of these, you just know it! Cautious, you spare a shifty glance from left to right before squealing to yourself. The package in your hand is crisp and promising as you check over the price and instructions.

Dan Heng returns to witness your perfect find. You know this because you recognize the soft padding of his footsteps anywhere (which is not creepy). You turn to see him and the fond look in his eye - and the aforementioned packages of film he’s clutching. 

“Hey, you,” you chuckle. “You found it, great! Anyway, look what I stumbled upon. Do you think she’ll--” “Yes,” he breathes, suddenly decisive. “She will. Especially the heart one.”

Quickly heeding the ever-rare suggestion from Dan Heng, you discard the now inferior package and seize the heart-shaped one. “I trust your judgment. She has good taste, honestly. Thanks for your help, love, I appreciate it. I know for a fact she likes pink, and though my hands are a little clumsy… I’ll make a masterpiece outta this, trust me.”

He exhales through his nose. That’s a laugh if you’ve ever heard one. “You sound so resolute…”

“Duty-bound, if you will,” you grin. “We can move on to the next place if you’d like. Didn’t expect to be done here so fast.”

“...wait.”

You tilt your head, following his line of sight back to the shelves. He seems transfixed on something else there, and a few seconds go by in silence as you’re left to figure out what it is on your lonesome. 

Dan Heng has gotten better at speaking his mind - he was never bad at it, but sometimes words get tangled up in his reticent hesitation. You understand this well. So, you try to determine what’s caught his eye. The understanding you come to is a nice one. The lowest rung of the shelf, almost overshadowed, are more ceramics - no surprise there. But it feels like fate the way that they’re displayed; two sturdy coffee cups with intricate handles, then a miniature raccoon forever inlaid with a devilish expression, practically commanding a paintbrush to make its mischievous grin come to life with color. 

Himeko, Welt, Caelus.

You laugh, loud and bright, grabbing your boyfriend’s hand with a conspiratorial grin. “Four birds with one stone, huh? We’re gonna need a cart!”

Dan Heng is blushing. It’s subtle, not at all burning or obvious to any nosy bystanders, but it’s enough to make your heart sing with delight. You take it he’s glad that you picked up on his thoughts so wordlessly. 

He excuses himself after muttering something about going to get the cart while you smile like an idiot. A lovestruck idiot. A lovestruck idiot with a soon-to-be overdrawn bank account.

…well, not exactly. After you gather everything and go to check out, he insists on paying for all of it. You make sure to argue with him in front of the very amused cashier, reaching a compromise in no time at all thanks to your amazing negotiation skills. He’ll pay for this load (whatever), and you’ll pay for any remaining splurges today. It’s only natural you need to stop by a few more places, considering March has two gifts while the others only have one. 

By the time Dan Heng’s social battery is drained and yours is frayed, you have everything. An apparel outlet that you would’ve never stepped foot in normally now has your patronage; a golden brooch in the shape of a rose (that’s surprisingly affordable) for Himeko, a classy but patterned tie for Welt, and a trendy jacket for Caelus.

You think you’re the most jealous of that last one - it has many pockets and takes up enough space to suffocate a small orphan.

Hauling the bags into the icy parking lot, you suddenly stop in your tracks, feeling the generous weight of your spending in the process. “Hold on.”

Your tired but loving partner heeds your command. “What? Is something the matter?”

“We forgot to shop for each other,” you point out, sheepish and breathy. Seems you’ve both been so caught up in the tradewinds that you forgot. “Should we go back inside?”

“No,” he blurts, “I’ve already acquired your gift.”

Gobsmacked, you almost drop your share of the bags. He’s been holding out on you?! The surprise quickly fades into mushy limerence before it dulls. “Huh? When did you do that? Oh shit, I haven’t gotten you anything yet… dude, I’m sorry, I’ll head back inside, all secret mission-esque and find you something while you wait in the car--” 

Dan Heng shakes his head. “You… you don’t have to.”

The hell? Does he even know how Christmas works? “Of course I do, come on,” you push forward. Knowing you’ve already forgotten where you’ve parked, he strides out in front of you and leads the way, preparing to argue his case. “We’ll put these in the back, and I’ll find you an amazing gift, you’ll see.”

You both reach his little beat-up sedan (which you’ve aptly named Granny), while he fumbles for his keys. He sighs, rolling the frigid joints in his shoulders as he opens the driver’s seat to unlock the trunk. Setting the bags down on the gross pavement is unfortunately inevitable. You throw the thing open, already loading. 

Dan Heng’s rebuttal is almost startling.

“I don’t need an ‘amazing gift’. I have you.”

You freeze. Where did he pull that from? Are you hallucinating again? Is this like the time you stayed up for two days straight to half-ass a dozen unfinished assignments? Or maybe it’s selective hearing… such a line is probably from an old romcom that you’re mentally regurgitating and then projecting onto him.

But you don’t tease or ask him to repeat it. Instead, you choose to fully believe and embrace that compliment, warming your heart and your cheeks. His expression is obscured from your position, but he probably looks the same.

“I’m… really glad you think so, Dan Heng,” you almost whisper.

Before he can say anything else that’ll ruin the moment, you decide that’s your job! and slam the trunk closed, deafeningly loud. 

“But that’s unacceptable! I’ll find you something perfect in the coming days no matter what!”

You hear him sigh before you hear his approaching footsteps. “Try not to stress too hard about it. Also, open that back up, there are more bags.”

“Oops,” you giggle. “Why not ask me nicely, like in that Romeo way you did five seconds ago?”

Your other half rightfully elects to ignore you.

As you finish wrapping up with him at your side, the subsequent ride back to campus is in comfortable silence. The buzz of what’s to come lingers on your mind as you stare out of the passenger window at the familiar scenery. You’ll find time to squeeze in finding a gift for Dan Heng, you’ll make sure of it. 

But for now, what to pack for the impending trip…?

You wake to the sound of your blaring alarm. Scrambling for your phone to make the thing shut up, you’re blinded by the time. It’s 2:30 in the morning, you’re disoriented, and you desperately want to go back to sleep. But when you really come to a minute later after hitting snooze, it all sinks in. 

Your room inspection is over with, your finals have been taken (you didn’t fail any of them, yay), and you have to leave campus with Dan Heng in about thirty minutes. Surreal that you’re awake at this hour, you go about getting ready - this includes texting the man of the hour to make sure he didn’t oversleep.

To your satisfaction, he responds swiftly. To your horror, he mentions that he’s ready and waiting. Unfair, in your opinion - why is he always punctual, and why are you always late?

You look in the mirror at your haphazard reflection. Not too shabby; just a leisure t-shirt and some sweatpants, pulled together by the thickest jacket you have since it’s grown even colder out. Your bags are already packed and practically bursting at the seams, loaded with your essentials, and of course the presents for Dan Heng’s family. 

You spent all of your free time crammed between everything else painting the ceramics while he wrapped and made everything else look pretty.

(You almost got crudely mixed pink paint on your dorm wall - well, you did just a little bit. Luckily it came off without the need to go sprinting to the nearest hardware store in pursuit of a cover-up job. That would have been bad. Very bad. Also, you left the primary suite door open to ventilate, and at least three students walking down the hallway witnessed your perfectionism-driven breakdown. Also, your suitemate hates you now.)

All of that’s over, though. Making sure you have everything once, then twice, then three whole times - you decide it’s finally time to go. You lug everything out of your dorm, down the hallway, into the elevator, and wait as it descends.

You check your phone, updating your boyfriend as the cabin grinds to a halt on the ground floor. Outside is nothing short of beautiful, if not hypothermic.

Snow falls in tiny flurries that make the dark cement purgatory look like a dream. The floodlights leave some corners of the parking lot shadowed, but illuminate Dan Heng just right. You spot him and his old ass car smack dab in the middle of all the empty spaces, just about everyone having vacated already.

“Hi, darling,” your breath syncs with the air as a wispy cloud. You kiss his cheek. “You ready?”

“I have been for the better part of an hour,” he informs you, perhaps a little grumpy from waking up so early - or it could just be that wry sarcasm rearing its head.

You find that Dan Heng is neither an early bird nor a night owl, oscillating between the two like nobody’s business. He’s up when he needs to be, including now, softened under the touch of your lips. 

And so, without much fanfare, the road trip commences. It’s notably different than the other times he’s chauffeured you around - so silent and grave. It kind of puts a damper on the Christmas spirit you’ve so painstakingly adopted, but you think twice about cranking the radio. He is the one driving, after all.  

You offered to switch with him halfway, and to his credit, he thought about it. But then Dan Heng politely shook his head and muttered something about bad weather and hydroplaning. Whatever a hydroplane is, you aren’t sure what it has to do with you being untrustworthy behind the wheel. 

The pleasant blast of the heater, the occasional robotic warbling from the GPS app, and the noise of the light drizzle outside are your more talkative companions. You’re getting antsy; you feel it in the bouncing of your leg and how you mindlessly chew on the dead skin of your bottom lip. 

Should you try to ignore it? Put on your headphones and tune out? The thought is appealing. 

Instead, you pipe up a few minutes before you’re due to turn on the interstate.

“Wanna get coffee?” you singsong. “I mean, you especially are going to need the caffeine to keep awake. Sleep deprivation is, like, the number three reason people get into car crashes.”

Dan Heng huffs in amusement. You’re glad that got some kind of reaction out of him, glad that the stoney silence has been broken. But if you’re being completely honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), this detour suggestion is just an excuse to delay the inevitable. For all of your joy, lingering anxiety chips away at your trademark smirk. 

You decide to bribe him just a little. “I’m buying.”

He turns into the nearest place without any further prodding. The coffee, which you have successfully paid for by the way, is nice. The searing light of the menu options, clambering over Dan Heng to place your orders as loud as you can because you know it’s hard for them to hear anything - fleeting memories of taking orders at your high school part-time job and all that. 

As you take the cup holder tray from your partner, ferried through the drive thru window, he speaks up, much to your chagrin.

“You’re nervous,” he says, leaving no room for doubt. You continue to situate the drinks and glance into the side view mirror, taking a sudden rapt interest in the line forming behind you.

You decide to lie. Maybe he’ll be merciful and let you work this one out on your own. “Me? Nervous? Whatever gives you that impression? Perhaps you needed the coffee more than I thought… poor Dan Heng, so tired that he’s hallucinating…” you whistle.

Gaslighting, unfortunately, doesn’t work. Persuasion check must’ve rolled off. Dan Heng says your name, soft but stilted in a way that makes your heart ache. He rolls out of the drive thru after checking the rearview mirror, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. They gain their color back after he realizes you’re staring at them.

“I’m nervous too. Extremely.” You’re back on the highway, and you fiddle with the GPS to get yourself back en route, taking in his words as they come. Dan Heng is being candid with you; encouraging. “Going back home is always an… ordeal.”

You deflate a bit, conflict warring on your face. Considering how flustered he gets when you dote on him, albeit within his limits, you can’t imagine how exhausting being fussed at from all angles would be. Not like he’s a kid, but that he’s returning home after another semester of being independent.

“Yeah, um, I can imagine. I don’t know much about that stuff, but it’ll probably be amplified with me coming with you. We’ll get through it together and have a great time.”

You say it to convince yourself more than him, but it works. Perhaps that was his plan all along?

“Yes,” agrees Dan Heng. “We will.”

The interstate stretch, predictably, is the most sizable chunk of the trip. Temptation whispers in your ears tantalizingly, the idea of a nap or two at the forefront of your sleep-addled mind. The soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windshield battling with the snow makes it even harder to resist.

So, you doze soundly in your reclined seat, nice and warm. You think you feel a hand, cold and calloused, brushing against your cheek, but fighting it would require waking up to demand he focus on the road! It retracts, and you’re out for a good long while.

You know that for a fact, because when you wake up, dawn is encroaching. The stars are still visible against the bleeding horizon. You feel much better, even if Dan Heng suppresses a smile at your expense - you seriously must look wrecked from a few simple hours of rest. Geez.

You yawn, waking up to chat. Your boyfriend looks unruffled, cool eyes scanning road signs for a place to apparently fuel up.

He tells you that there’s only about an hour or so left, the ETA checking out. Nerves flood your system, but after a deep breath and stepping out to stretch your legs, you feel better.

“Who knew you were so good at pep talks,” you tease, if not to hide the fact you’re completely enamored with him. You fill up the tank after he cuts the engine, purposefully yelling so he can hear your words through the rolled up windows. “My man, the motivator!”

You hear his ensuing groan, claiming mental victory as the pump dings. Easy. 

Staring at the signs of his hometown, a foreign sense of wonder engulfs you as you split from the interstate. Has that diner been there since Dan Heng was a kid? Did he even spend all of his childhood in one place? Should you ask, or is that too invasive? 

The trees lining the grassy outcrops are tiny and thin, likely just having been planted by the city. How much has changed since you’ve started monopolizing his time?

Your questions spill out, and he does his best to answer them - but he also seems nostalgic, wistful and pained. Your earlier revelation rings true; you don’t know much about Dan Heng’s past.

That’s slowly changing as he tells you some stories, though his words are messy and create a muddled image in your head. You don’t push too far, chattering his ear off in response to keep things lighthearted. 

(Maybe you’ll be more open about yourself too. Maybe.)

Then you careen into a residential area. It’s more suburban than you expected for a city-town hybrid of this size, streets of apartment units and then gated communities of houses. You whistle because you’re almost there, you can feel it!

“Which one is it, huh?” you pester, practically pressing your face against the glass. “Come on, pick up the pace a little!”

“I am not keen on getting a ticket this far in. A few more turns.”

True to his word, a row of townhouses come into view. They’re not massive, but the few you see are brimming with character. Full, decadent awnings and aged brick matched with just the right colors to make your brain happy. They look lived in, filled with memories that you’re eager to digest and, hopefully, be a part of.

Dan Heng pulls into the driveway of the oldest-looking one and parks. The GPS drones on, informing you of your arrival. Your anxiety has almost entirely abated at this point, thank the heavens and stars, and it’s near time to face the music with open arms.

“What a nice place! I guess we should greet them, and then start unloading?”

He nods. It’s still cold out, but less so than at school. Stepping out onto the pavement gives you a little thrill, and you trail behind Dan Heng, stuffing your hands into your jacket pockets as you stare at the front door.

It has a little brass knocker in lieu of a doorbell, and you reach out to grasp it on instinct. Your hand brushes his that had reached out at the same time.

You wiggle your eyebrows at him. 

He sighs and finally knocks after you reel your grubby hand back. It all comes down to this - kind of anticlimactic from someone else’s perspective, but paramount from yours. Who will answer the door?

The answer is immediate: Welt. The thing creaks open, revealing a tall, older man with graying brown hair and glasses. He’s utilizing a cane and looks exactly like you imagined, distinguished and fitting right into the scene with his creme turtleneck and kind eyes. He regards you both, first Dan Heng, then you. 

“You’re here early. Welcome back - and I see you’ve brought them, as promised,” Welt’s voice is warm, and you get the feeling the small smile he’s wearing is quite rare. “Come in, we’ve been waiting on you two. It’s an honor to meet Dan Heng’s esteemed partner.”

You’re utterly awestruck, responses forming on your tongue only to dissolve into garbled nothings. As you robotically follow inside, you watch as Dan Heng falls into an awkward-looking side hug with Welt - quickly averting your eyes so they can have a moment. Then, you can’t contain it anymore, speaking to your heart’s content.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot - well, not a lot, but enough,” you ramble unapologetically, taking in the decor of the foyer, “and I’m really excited to be here, you have no idea. Are those Ray Bans? You have a lovely home!”

Your boyfriend, wetting his chapped lips, communicates silently with Welt. You think it’s something like a greeting, a familial synergy you can’t quite grasp yet. Maybe it’s a warning: I am dating an idiot chatterbox, please be nice to them. 

That seems unlikely; necessitates further observation. This is just like Animal Planet. 

“Thank you, I recognize your sincerity. It’s a rare trait, these days,” he mutters mostly to himself, probably reminiscing on some mysterious past. He goes on to curtly answer your more frivolous questions while leading the two of you deeper inside. Dan Heng squeezes your hand and you share your own telepathic glance with him. 

This is going well!

The interior of the living room is striking, bearing the marks of age and care. You recognize most of the furniture as antiques - leather couches and loveseats with beautiful upholstery, a sage grandfather clock standing tall near the stone fireplace, and overflowing bookshelves that’d satiate even the most voracious of readers.

Paintings adorn every wall, not a square inch left blank. The mantle boasts many trinkets and baubles of various cultures, some of which you recognize - and some of which you don’t. Those could definitely be a great conversation starter! 

So charming, so quaint, so rich in history! You’d wax poetic and stare at each nifty little thing until your eyes bled if you could.

“Darling, I didn’t know you were so well-off! Maybe I should start calling you Mr. Old Money.” “...please don’t.”

Welt hides a chuckle in his gloved hand before surveying the room. “It seems everyone is doing their own thing. I’ll go get Himeko, she must be in her study,” he throws a look over his shoulder, uttering your name with just the right amount of phlegm. “Welcome. Don’t be afraid to make yourself at home.”

And you’re left alone to breathe for a short minute. You run your thumb over Dan Heng’s knuckles reverently, pondering aloud. “He’s so cool! He’s an animator, right? I’ve heard you mention something like that before.”

He nods. “Indeed. He’s worked on various pitch bibles for all kinds of IPs, but he’s more content on assuming quieter roles in the industry, or so he’s told us. His passion is what carries him, not the spotlight.”

“...that’s a great way to live,” you marvel. The air feels vulnerable after that, the nature of something as intangible as family running through the undercurrents of the house. “Do you think he’s right for being so humble?”

“It is not my place to comment, but… I can say that I look up to him,” he admits, giving your hand a shy squeeze. “Himeko is similar. She’s--” “--enthralled to finally meet your acquaintance?” 

A new voice cuts in. Himeko is also a vision, donning a winter shawl that wraps around a sepia-colored dress with tights, topped off with a beret. She looks absolutely stunning, and you’re overwhelmed with the urge to compliment her profusely. She stands at a comparable height to Welt, expression softened with mirth.

“It’s long since overdue,” Himeko extends a handshake which you take. Your jaw must be scraping the floor, which Welt and Dan Heng see fit to ignore.

She whips a ruby curl out of her face to scrutinize you - shit, you probably should’ve worn something nicer. First impressions and all that!

She greets Dan Heng with a hardy embrace after letting your hand go. He stands rigid.

“I was beginning to think he was making you up,” she teases. “When you both settle in, we have a lot to catch up on. Can we help you with your bags?”

You grin at your boyfriend, nudging him with your elbow. “Whaddya say, huh?”

He nods, shoulders slumping as if he’s made it past some great obstacle. 

“Great,” Welt interjects, heading back towards the front door with Himeko in tow. Dan Heng turns to you, voice akin to a whisper.

“March and Caelus are probably in their bedrooms or,” he sighs, “conspiring elsewhere. If you’d like, you can go on and look around while we deal with the luggage. It’s a lot to get used to, and you’re better off getting your curiosity out of your system.”

You gasp, splaying a hand over your heart. “You say that like I’m some unruly child! I’m not going to break anything…”

Dan Heng gives you a look.

“...this time,” you begrudgingly add.

Before he can hurry after them though, you gingerly (roughly) grab him by the collar and give him a smooch. It’s over as quick as it began, and you barely get a glimpse of his scandalized visage before you set off to explore. 

The adjoining hallway leading you out of the living room is painted stark white, all kinds of framed photographs hanging on display. Most of them are noir shots of famous people; movie stars, historical figures and the like. You stop in your tracks to look each of them over.

Some aren’t so impersonal. For example, there’s one of Himeko standing in a train station, posing on the platform with a massive and austere steam locomotive behind her. There is also a gray-haired dude at her side, pointing at the train with an exaggerated expression of shock. Caelus. And the photo’s signature - March 7th. 

Right on time, before you can continue snooping, you hear the distinct noise of bickering further down the hallway. You grin, sensing drama like a blood-sniffing shark. 

The muffled racket becomes clearer as you approach what is probably a bedroom door, and you hesitate for only a second before not-rudely throwing it open. You can deal with the consequences later. After all, this sounds more like banter than a serious argument - you would know!

The first thing you see are two figures with their backs turned to you. Pink and gray hair hunched over a desk - Caelus sitting and clicking furiously with March pointing at the one of the three flashing monitors, posing a threat to this hell of a gamer setup.

“You actually suck at this! Log off already, Dan Heng and his guest are going to be here soon,” she chastises as Caelus huffs, him dying moments later (in Pac-Man of all things). “Seriously, this is as boring as watching paint dry. I don’t know how you have so many viewers…”

You blink, scrutinizing the monitors again. Yes, there’s Pac-Man, but there’s also a live chat that seems to be going crazy, dozens of messages burying even more dozens of messages. There’s a facecam too, framing all three of you - wait, three? 

Oops. You’re live on Twitch.

“March is just a grade-A hater,” Caelus declares to his audience, “always betting against me. I’ll have all of you know that I, Whisperer of Dumpsters, Toilet Destroyer--”

A groan. “Not this again.”

They seem oblivious to the fact that you’re here, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. Clippers must be going nuts right about now…

Dan Heng never mentioned that Caelus took this career path - but then again, you can imagine he was trying to avoid the headache of you pestering him with stream references. Either way, you’re here now, and you’ll be damned if you pass up an opportunity this golden.

“They’ve been keeping me in the basement for three years!” you yell, causing both of them to jump and turn in bewilderment, “They’re frauds, kidnappers, liars--”

“We’ve been what?!” March shrieks. She’s either 1.) quickly adjusting to your improv and playing along or 2.) now wholeheartedly convinced that you’ve been held captive here under the floorboards.

The chat lags from how fast messages are coming in, and Caelus cackles maniacally before mashing a shortcut on his keyboard to switch to a Be Right Back screen. What a performance, and you also burst out in laughter, not unlike his. 

“Well, you certainly uh… made an entrance,” March grimaces, looking only slightly mortified. That sourness fades into a friendly smile as she scratches the back of her head. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Oh my god, c’mere!”

Caelus stares at you with beady eyes as she bounds towards your form in the doorway, engulfing you in a giant hug. You feel like crying again. This was supposed to be unserious, but you can’t help but already feel at home. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. Your hair clips are so cute!” 

You exchange pleasantries for a moment before you hear creaking. Caelus has stood up now, an unreadable expression on his face as he approaches slowly - like molasses slowly. One menacing stomp in front of the other like he’s trying to intimidate a bear. You tilt your head curiously while March spins around to look at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Group hug. Bring it in,” he answers cryptically.

March wrinkles her nose. “Why do you sound like that? You’ll creep them out!”

Caelus turns to you, looking for confirmation. Immediately, you understand what you must do. This chemistry you share with this kindred spirit should be studied in a lab under a microscope.

“Collective embrace,” you parrot. “Bring it in.”

“...so you’re both weird, huh? Just great.”

You respond by smushing both of them in a crushing hug, a chorus of giggles echoing off the walls, all three of you being the perpetrators. 

This year’s holidays are off to a great start.

Things surprisingly don’t drag on. 

What that means is a little hard to quantify; nebulous like carbon monoxide. You can’t see it, you can’t taste it, but it certainly takes its toll. 

The first day comes to a close after a shared dinner, a feast, really - you’d never seen so much food in your life and you scarfed it down like a starving man in between conversation on every topic under the sun. You’ve fallen into the swing of things so naturally, and while that’s good, it’s a little too good.

You’ve never considered anxiety to be a formidable foe in your life. You carry conversation, pass the cornbread, spice up everyone’s lives (sometimes at the detriment of your reputation), and most importantly, you do it with a smile.

But after a night or two spent in Dan Heng’s almost spartan bedroom, tossing and turning, you’re starting to believe you’re in more trouble than you thought previously.

The nerves are easy to suppress when you’re bouncing energy off someone else, lost in the moment, because you do truly enjoy the socializing - but that feeling lingers.

And when you’re left with nothing to do, staring at the ceiling with a vengeance on the third night of your stay, all of the doubt catches up. It gains ground until your heart thunders in your chest.

You’ve learned that Himeko is buddy-buddy with the department of transportation, doubling as an engineer and cartographer. She’s even had a part in restoring defunct trains to their former glory, spearheading many vacations along the way. 

(You don’t deserve to be privy to such a meaningful story.) 

Caelus can’t ride a bike. Neither can you. Upon coming to this seismic revelation, he offered to take the plunge with you in an attempt to learn if you were interested. You agreed before he could even get the full sentence out. 

(You’re only good at goofing around.)

March insisted that you be a temporary proofreader for her own university essays, most of which being on topics you could never wrap your head around in a million years.

Shenanigans ensued until you ended up denouncing higher education as a whole, choosing to believe in her own freestyle structure rather than whatever hellish rubric was being peddled. 

(You’re too airheaded to help in a normal way.)

You’ve even grown closer with Welt. You two listened to the crackling of the old gramophone in his respective study, chiming in with your own thoughts on his archaic but classic music taste. There was a little bit of discussion on media preservation, your earnest passion pairing well with his own. 

(You’re coming off too strong.)

But you feel the worst about the man sleeping next to you. 

You’re supposed to be in your highest spirits, but Dan Heng has gotten good at spotting your tells. The tightness of your smile comes off as overjoyed to your new friends, but strained to him. The guilt of possibly ruining it all is unforgiving, tightened about your neck like an evil scarf.

He knows something’s up, and you know that he knows. It’s on you for not being forward about your struggles - hell, you’ve scolded him countless times about how he clams up about feelings and all that mess. You’re just a little bit of a hypocrite, then. What would you even say on the subject?

Sorry I’m such a buzzkill? Sorry I haven’t been more open with you? Sorry that I’m the actual wors--

You muffle a sob, burying your face in Dan Heng’s pillow. You just need to calm down, even if that means getting snot on his nice shams. You hiccup, and to your muted horror, the mattress creaks with movement.

Voice rough with sleep and alarm, Dan Heng calls out to you. You tense but otherwise refuse to lift your head up from your comfy sanctuary, chest rising and falling in snappy bursts.

You can’t face him like this, so tangled in everything you feel. You feel so unbelievably guilty, even if a more sensible part of you knows you’re just overthinking.

“Please look at me.”

If you’re making comparisons, Dan Heng must be the wind. Gentle and mild like a calming gale, never a torrent eager to knock you off your feet. No, he is sobering like a wayward breeze. His plea is so soft, and you only hate yourself a little bit for giving in and meeting his eyes.

His hair is sticking up in every direction just like yours. It’s not a foreign sight - you’ve slept in the same bed at least a hundred times, but the worried frown tugging at his lips is new. You sniffle and wipe your face, words a jumble of nonsense.

“Try to breathe. It’s going to be alright,” he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ll wait.”

That last part might sound impatient in some other context, but right now, it’s resolute - it’s a promise. He’ll wait until you’re ready, however long that will take.

You crumble, shakily inhaling and exhaling until you sit up to mirror his stance. You fumble to embrace him, which he accepts readily - not unused to your spontaneous acts of affection. 

However, there’s a stutter in his movements. He’s not used to seeing you so put out, you hazard, unable to even produce coherent speech.

“I love you so much,” you gasp.

“...is that what this is about? Or is there more?”

Dan Heng strokes your hair through your tearful explanation. You know you don’t make a lot of sense right now, but it’s all you can manage. He still listens with scholarly attention to detail, not doting or prying. He’s here. He’s here for you, just like you are for him.

The dam has burst. “Have I ever told you about my family?”

“No,” he admits. “Do you want to?”

So you tell him enough. You only paint a vague picture; recounting endless disagreements and fighting, being kicked to the curb and ostracized, scrambling to pick up the pieces of your barely adult life before being thrusted into college all alone with no one to watch out for you. You’ve only dropped hints beforehand - after all, who wants to reopen old wounds? 

Silence can be just as powerful of a response as spoken words. Dan Heng understands, you know that already, but the way he holds you is compelling evidence alone.

Dan Heng’s family is wonderful; being part of it makes you feel a little sick inside, somehow made worse by his ministrations. “It may be unfair of me to say, but… I think I know how you feel. My life before I came to live and travel with everyone was lonely. Lonely and painful, and you don’t deserve to feel that way. Ever.”

When you don’t respond, he continues. 

“But I’m now content to call them my cherished companions. And you,” Dan Heng emphasizes, syllables unsure despite his best efforts, “are one of them as well. We haven’t pried too much into what is painful, but I’ve always felt like we’ve never needed to. That was my mistake.”

He makes a point of thumbing the residue of your episode away, an apology in and of itself. Of course he blames solely himself, you muse, biting back a playful reprimand that wouldn’t land well right now. Your breathing regains a semblance of normalcy as you muster up enough gusto to respond. 

“No, don’t be silly. I want to talk to you more about our lives before each other, I think. Together, y’know? I-Isn’t that just so romantic? Being emotionally constipated doesn’t do either of us any favors.” 

Your tone has lightened, enough for him to notice and furrow his brows in concern. Given, you rebound at the speed of light, never wishing to linger on the bad - partially because sadness is unpleasant and uncommon, but mostly because you feel like you’re unable to. That’s just how you are. However, the way he looks at you is encouragement enough to move forward.

You feel better, you do, but your eyes are still red and puffy. The night outside is still cold and unpredictable.

“Whatever you need,” Dan Heng nods. He can only be so sworn in his promises - so determined - before you crack a smile.

“Alright, easy on the white knight talk,” you chuckle. Realizing how close you actually are, there’s a pause. You can smell the mint of his shampoo, and your arms are tangled with his in some kind of human knot that’d have Houdini sweating. “It’s weird…”

He stares at you, unimpressed. “I thought you wanted me to talk to you in a ‘Romeo’ way.”

You only huff, unable to come up with a retort for once, which is fine. You wipe your face again and drag him down with you back onto the bed, which he allows, because Dan Heng is too good for you and also happens to be a complete pushover. At least you can use your frazzled, unstable emotional state to get what you want.

Case in point: you spoon him. The covers assume their original position after you wrangle them to behave, holding him close from behind. A little part of you does this so he can’t see if you start up the waterworks again, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“It’ll be alright,” Dan Heng reminds, surrendering to your whims as always.

The dust settles and you’re inclined to believe him. There is still much time left, with Christmas day being the focal point of your visit, and you’re starting to get sleepy again. That’s always a good sign; sleepy, relaxed, and with a head drained of pressing worries - at least for the present moment.

Your eyes close, bereft of tears as you murmur your agreement.

To your surprise and horror, this house didn’t have a Christmas tree. It’s not like it mattered that much, but it was still shocking nonetheless. With a building exploding with life, there wasn't an evergreen decked out in ornaments or a pine covered in lights to tie the room together.

Honestly, where were they going to put their presents? 

However, you forgave this transgression a day or two later under the condition that you would be allowed to pick one out. Everyone seemed to be fine with it, with you offering to cover the cost this close to the 25th - and your determined expression that would’ve been pointless to argue with. Santa Claus works hard but you work harder.

Caelus and March jumped to go with you, much to the others’ relief, and that was more than enough hands on deck for you to hop in Caelus’s car and drive to the nearest tree farm in the dead of winter, borrowing some mittens and a cute knitted hat from March so you wouldn’t become a human popsicle before your 30s.

Uh, you did get a bit lost. You had to interrogate the shit out of the GPS and one poor local to get there; the latter was not your fault by the way! Caelus just so happened to be carrying a bat and had a concerning look in his eye. That put you in good enough standing to make it there, even if the selection of trees were picked over, leaving only the runts on sale.

All three of you turned away with your hands empty, opting to make a last minute shopping trip to the mall to buy a fake one. You were against it, but your suggestion to buy three small trees and place them really close together was vetoed. “Majority rules” is totes unfair…

But the mall trip turned into a lot more when you actually got there. Both of them ganged up on you with a reminder that you haven’t gotten Dan Heng a gift yet! Honestly, you could say you regret confessing that to them earlier, but you totally needed to hear it.

Imagine you, waking up on Christmas morning with nothing to give the love of your life! Deplorable, unforgivable, and tragically heartbreaking. 

And you had a council there to help you; people that know Dan Heng just as well as you do. 

“He’s so hard to shop for,” March had groaned, flicking through racks of clothes with a dark aura surrounding her. “Trust me, I’ve tried in the past. He always says he’s fine with anything, giving me zero hints…”

“Maybe get him nothing,” Caelus suggested after, more occupied with trying to steal coins from the nearby wishing fountain. Like one does. “You could run him over and he’d thank you politely.”

Similar experiences there. He’s always been more attuned to your wants than his own, which you’ve been trying to get him to work on at his own pace. Unfortunately, the place was about to close for the night since you already spent the day gallivanting around.

The burly mall security guard looked dangerously close to kicking your trio out, with at least one of you kicking and screaming, so you had to leave empty handed again. 

The others assured you that you’d find a present in time. You decided to go with the flow and hope that the heavens above would drop one into your lap by the day of.

Spoiler alert: they didn’t! Because Christmas day is now here, and it all seems hopeless. Well, aside from the fact that you’re all settled around the coffee table and a big, burning fire is roaring in the fireplace. 

There’s still a smile on your face as Welt and Himeko tear open their presents with wise, softened gazes. You can’t let your own mistakes ruin the moment, after all.

“Truly, thank you both,” Himeko croons, looking over her respective mug and brooch with awe. “I was prepared to perhaps play up the excitement a bit, but… I’m very impressed. Dan Heng, you’ve picked well.”

He flushes. “They helped me,” he nods to you.

“No,” she laughs, “I meant you picked a good partner.”

Before you can stammer out a reply, Welt chimes in. He’s inspecting the quality of his tie with muted gratitude - his new mug seems to only serve as a reminder that he has to drink Himeko’s coffee out of it. Hey, at least your heart was in the right place!

“I have to agree. Both of you must have collaborated seamlessly to shop for our preferences.” 

Caelus, wearing his big ass jacket that you and Dan Heng bought him, sprawls out across one of the couches like a housecat. “This is a lot better than what you got me last year, Cold Dragon Young.”

Dan Heng bristles and you burst out laughing at the expression he’s making. “Cold Dragon what?”

“Ignore them,” he pleads, lips twitching upward just a smidge; a ghost of a smile. Dan Heng really does like the teasing more than he lets on. 

March was almost reduced to tears by the jewelry dish you painted for her - which is more of a jewelry box at this point - but she recovers from her reverie and endless thank yous to giggle at your partner’s expense, something that’s swiftly turning into a group effort. “One time, we all got roped into fistfighting these bad guys in a club, and after Dan Heng took care of them--”

“I was left with no other choice--”

“--then that became his ring name. Cold Dragon Young!” she finishes. 

Himeko and Welt exchange an exhausted look. You immediately decide that the moniker is going to become his contact name in your phone until the end of time. You also start wheezing (and also kind of blushing) at the idea of Dan Heng, the near-pacifist, duking it out with someone. “S-Sounds like you guys have been everywhere…”

“...we have,” your boyfriend clears his throat. You sense a topic change, or even a segue, drawing your attention. You sit up a little straighter and wipe the comically-induced hysteria from your eyes. 

He’s looking at you expectantly with some of the earlier heat coloring the tips of his ears. The room lulls into silence as he makes his way over to the tree to retrieve a box from underneath the branches, wrapped in pastel yellow with no bow.

Dan Heng hands it over, and when your skin brushes against his for a fleeting second, you feel the clamminess of his palms.

“Oh, me next?” you blink. Shaking the thing a bit too aggressively, listening for any indication of a bomb (just in case), you get a good feel of its weight. Light and mysterious. You’re too busy making mental guesses that you don’t notice Welt shepherding the others out of the room.

“Yes. I hope you like it,” he watches as you tear open the wrapping paper and the box itself. Dan Heng is so beautiful it’s almost criminal, unintentionally batting his lashes in a way that has you swallowing drool.

You scoff. “Of course I will!”

Inside the box rests… two tickets? Your mind jumps to movie tickets first and foremost, but that’s obviously not the case; the ones here are golden with faded ridges and accented with red, sparkling as you fawn over them. Then you read the printed text lining the bottom of the thin cardstock.

The Astral Express. They’re two boarding passes.

“No way,” It’s the name of the restored steam locomotive in the picture, the very same one that Himeko told you about working on during the height of her career. “Does this mean…?”

Dan Heng drinks in the surprised part of your lips, scratching at his neck. “You mentioned that you wanted to travel. I, and the rest of us, thought you’d like to accompany us on a trip. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly fine,” he promises. “I can get refunded, and we’ll all stay. But it’s scheduled to start the day after tomorrow and last until the new year.”

You don’t want to cry again, even if they’re happy tears, so you launch yourself into his arms as a welcome distraction. You may be imagining it, but you think you feel him slump in relief. Again. How long will it take to get it through his thick skull that he could never disappoint you?

“Duh, of course I want to! Darling, what kind of jerk would I be if I said no and made everyone cancel their plans? Oh my god, oh my god--”

“You m-may want to breathe.”

His concern is so genuine - that’s not even meant to be teasing. You scream into his shoulder, already thinking of nights spent in velvet cabins and days spent watching the cross-country scenery go by on the silver rail. With good food. Lots of it. 

“I’m breathing,” you huff, in fact, short of breath. “Thank you, Dan Heng. I love it so much.”

You pull back, box and tickets still safe in your grasp despite your earlier flailing. The magical moment fizzles, your joy stunted as guilt emerges. “But I… I didn’t get you anything. I’m so sorry, we shopped all over, and everything’s been so hectic…”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I meant what I said.”

“Huh?”

“When we were shopping all that time ago,” he clarifies. “I don’t need anything but you. And with the others coming along,” Dan Heng gestures to the tickets, everyone else’s likely stowed away somewhere safe, “It’s the best gift I could ask for, more than I could ever want.”

You don’t rebut him this time.

The guilt has all but vanished, and you pull Dan Heng into a tender kiss. This has, no joke, probably been the best break of your life so far. Not to mention you have a whole new trip to look forward to, with a whole new family at your side.

Just as you think this perfect moment is unshakable, hoots and jeers break out from behind you. You whip around, dazed, and Caelus is cheering both of you on like his life depends on it.

“Wooooo! I told you they’d like it, dude! May your love burn bright for years to co--”

…then March clamps a hand over his mouth and hauls him away. 

Dan Heng is so embarrassed that he chokes on a laugh. You make sure to join him in kind, the present moment also holding the infinite possibilities of the future.

thank you for reading! it means the world to me 🎅🎁

[headless609]

Christmas List on What I Wish for in SP S:27 next year

1.) I want the focus to be with the boys. I know I am not the only fan that is sick of the Tegridy Farms seasons. Randy is cool but not as the main character. I want to see some school drama such as crushes, the cheese touch game, role playing and more. idk I want the kids to act like kids and have fun (while of course having their games be blown out of proportion) 

2.) While I am not personally a Style shipper I have noticed that Kyle and Stan have been quite distant in the past seasons. In the End Of Obesity special Kyle rarely interacts w/ Stan, instead focusing purely on Cartman’s health and feelings. In the next season I hope Trey and Matt possibly focus on their friendship . I don’t have a clear opinion on what I want as a solution but I think some ideas would either them becoming friends again or distancing even more ( and the two trying to find new super best friends : Stan with either Tolkien, Kenny or Butters and Kyle with Cartman, Tolkien or Kenny(?) While it would be sad it would be an interesting arc for the season.

3.) I want more of the girls. I love Wendy and the other girls. While I do believe they are a little satirized (due to Matt and Trey both being guys) I do hope we could see more of them as regular 4th grade girls rather then being used as plot point for the boys to be crushing on. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the ep Bebes Boobs Destroy Society, but by just looking at the title you can tell where I am coming from. So, more girls being girls that have stories that don’t always have to link back to a crush on a boy. 

4.) OK, this one is is kinda self indulgent but I want to see Cartman be in drag again. I want Bad Irene. Bonus if Bad Irene sings a Lady Gaga song like Bad Romance or Oops I Did It Again by Britney Spears. I love that Cartman canon likes pop music and I want to see more of that in the next season.

5.) Now for this one I have actually read and seen fans have this sick headcannon and I wouldn’t mind it being cannon either. Basically, Liane and Clyde’s dad get together. Then Cartman and Clyde become like brothers. I really like this and I think it would be kewl if they argued on who was the older brother. An alternative is that instead of Clyde, Scott Tenorman starts living with Cartman. The sibling rivalry would be crazy and so funny. I think Trey and Matt could push these two on how far they could go to enact revenge. 

6.) This one may seem very random but I want a Liane Cartman backstory. I want to know what made her into the towns biggest wh*r3. She obviously must have had some traumatic event and I kinda want it to be a tragic love story. Maybe her lover was killed and she soon fell into drug abuse and selling her body. How South Park treated her and just how she started getting her redemption arc in the more recent seasons. If we’re to format this as an episode I would want it to be Liane telling Cartman a bedtime story (this is kinda an excuse to see them getting along but whateva it’s cute so idc) 

7.) I need more Kenny. PLEASE 🙏 Kenny has been sidelined for SOO LONG! Any story will do: him and butters? Awesome! Him and Cartman? Hell yeah! Him and Karen? AAAAASAAAASAAAHSHSJBEBFJDDJJDEJ PLEASE THEY’RE SO CUTEEE 💗

 8.) Sorry for the last one, ok but talking about more focus on character’s, I kinda want a focus on the pets. Y’ know like Sparky, Mr Kitty and Kyle’s Elephant that did it with Cartman’s pig (that ep was … something to say the least) Anyways, I love the pets they are cute and I want more, thank you (and Craig’s Guinea pig  Stripes) 

9.) Lore drops from characters will be awesome. Like, it dosent just have to be Liane (as I mentioned before) I wouldn’t mind an ep on how Gerald and Sheila fell in love, it would be a really cute nerd x girl boss storyline

10.) …jersey kyle. IDK, Kyle being a brash, loud asshole is straight gold. I need him to snap and start calling everyone muff  cabbage (+ jersey kyle meets bad Irene and he falls head over heels… WHO SAID THAT??) 

Anyways that’s my list. I actually really hope other people do this trend to cause I wanna see what good ideas or wants y’all want from season 27 >:)

[romeythehomie]

Oops accidentally unfollowed u for a sec while I was trying to hit the ask button. Anyway re: your books post I have had Topeka School on my to-read list since it came across my desk working library circ a couple years ago but have never been really compelled to pick it up so in ur opinion do u think I should fully demote it off the list 🎙️

omg no problem parker u are all good!! from what it sounds like you probably read the jacket and went “that sounds like an interesting premise!” and i’m afraid to tell you that i think they accidentally sent the wrong synopsis to the printer because it’s such an egregious misrepresentation of the novel. as someone who DID pick it up on a whim and went “that sounds interesting!” i was frankly offended by the degree to which it was just…not remotely about what it promised me it was going to be about. it’s also a book that really, really, really badly wants you to know how smart the author is. i have nothing against a nonlinear narrative; some of my favorite books are told as a nonlinear narrative! but i think the topeka school uses a rapid changing nonlinear narrative in the hopes of disguising the fact that it’s actually completely devoid of any true plot and keeping you confused enough that you don’t realize that it’s simply not good. ill link my slightly more thematically spoiler-y goodreads review below, but honestly if you haven’t felt compelled to pick it up at any point before now i would just save yourself the time and 300 pages and choose something that you DO look at and go “wow this sounds really cool i want to start reading it right this second!”

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

50: 30 minutes before the Emperor's murder

Second skull - whole.

We're back to Gideon's perspective, about to meet the Emperor, and ... about to witness the Emperor meet his end - possibly about to BE the Emperor's end. Let's see how this unfolds.

In the room was Cytherea. Cytherea’s body, her back to us. She had been neatly tied to a chair with a band of angry-looking tendon.

Cytherea! ....... ON The steel chair!!

Hah, sorry, I couldn't resist.

Did Mercy get to her? If the angry tendons are an indication, then probably yes.

“Commander Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead,” he said. “All of it.” “I can’t believe you feel like you’re in position to demand things of me.” “All of it, Gaius!” There was the preparatory sound of indrawn breath. “Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity,” he recited, all in one breath. “Correct?”

Lmao that's one hell of a name. I would love to have "Oops there goes gravity" as part of my name.

Maybe I can I've changed my name before its not like its hard

Anyway - Cytherea - Cytherea' body is being possessed, haunted, whatever you wanna call it. She's ... probably ... still dead.

The commander? The same commander as the one who died drifting down to the Ninth with baby Gideon? The same commander who's been haunting Harrow as The Sleeper? That commander??????

He said, “Blood of Eden died with you, Wake. Any further action is just agonal breathing.” “We both know that’s not true.” “You never would have fired nukes into my fleet.”

Okay, but Blood of Eden are still very much kicking, and they very much did fire nukes into his fleet. Didn't they do that at the start of the book? Eighteen thousand dead or something like that??

“You’ve been a revenant for nearly twenty years, Wake. It’s extraordinary … You really are everything they said you were.” Silence. “You’re not a necromancer—” “Necromancy is a disease you released,” she said. “Necromancy needs to be strategically and deliberately cleansed.”

She IS that same commander - Gideon Nav's mother - and her, and the Blood of Eden, are on some kind of ideological quest against necromancy itself.

You tell me the thanergy link you rode to get here, because you certainly weren’t in Cytherea’s body back at Canaan House,

The sword that killed Cytherea, the one Harrow has been holding on to this entire time.

It's a tenuous link, but probably enough. The commander's daughter's sword, in the hands of the commander's daughter's kismesis necromancer adept sorry for using a homestuck word it just fits okay.

Alternatively, if it's not the sword, it's Harrow's body, holding the soul of Gideon Nav, the commander's daughter herself.

Could it be that Gideon Nav didn't die as a child because she was being used as a thalergetic/thanergetic link? Can living bodies do that? Her mother seems to have been powerful in life, and is still powerful in death as a revenant, so I can't rule it out.

“Mercymorn the First, Augustine the First, meet Commander Wake Me Up Inside, sincerest apologies if I got that wrong,” said the Emperor. “Wake —Mercy—Augustine.” “Oh, we’ve met,” said the corpse, with immense satisfaction.

Cahoots! Cahoots I say.

Commander wake me up inside 🤣 (save me!!!!)

They're confronting God, for something - that's taken ten thousand years to uncover, apparently.

The plot thickens.

“They were working for me,” said the dead Commander. Mercymorn demanded, “Are you flattering yourself, or being wrong on purpose?” The other Lyctor interrupted, “Joy—” but she was saying, wildly: “Oh, let it happen! If this is happening, let it happen … We had a deal, Wake! Where the hell have you been hiding for nineteen years?” “Where—you—fucking—left—me,” she ground out. “In my bones. Then a blade. In—that—fucking—hole.”

The sword, then. "That fucking hole" presumably being the Ninth house.

The corpse was grim. “I came armed.” “It doesn’t matter what you came armed with, Commander—” “I had the baby,” said Wake. “The baby I’d had to incubate myself for nine long fucking months, when the foetal dummies these two gave me died.” “Oh, God, it was yours,” said Augustine, in horror. “I thought you’d used in vitro on one of Mercy’s—” “I said they all died,” said Wake.

Oh my god!!!!

The eggs you gave me all died and you lied to me!!!!!!!!!!

She's behind all of the messages that Harrow thought she hallucinated!!!!!! THIS is what they meant!! They weren't for or about Harrow - they were for Augustine and Mercymorn!!!!

“Okay. Let’s get this straight,” God was saying. “You brought a baby—a baby you’d made inside yourself, well done, that’s the classic—so you could, what, kill it and create a huge thanergy cascade at the door? I wish Harrowhark were here; it would do her good to know there are more people in the world with an imagination like her parents’

So that was the plan - to kill baby Gideon and breach the locked tomb - but it didn't work - because Commander Wake (me up inside) died before she could reach the Ninth?

The woman I was pretty sure was actually my mother—wearing the body of a woman I’d had a crush on, who in turn had been wearing the identity of a woman she’d murdered, until I fell on a spike so that my boss could kill her—craned her head around in her bonds.

An absolutely WILD situation to be in, admittedly. Imagine being completely mystified with your origins all your life, and then finding out, after your death, like THIS.

“I think you’re skipping ahead in the story,” said God. “I think you’re glossing over a part … because you think it doesn’t matter? Are you embarrassed? Gideon, were you aware that, when you let Commander Wake get as far as she did—to the House of the Ninth, to one of our own Houses, our own people—that she was pregnant?” A pause. “I was aware,” said Gideon Classic. “Why the hell did you not tell me?” “Because I thought it was—mine.”

Ohhhhhhhhh. The plot thickens FURTHER. Gideon Nav's father possibly confirmed to be Gideon the First???????

(I'm not ignoring the "I thought" and all of the everything Commander Wake just said, meaning it could very much be not true, but still -)

“You never kept it secret from us. I always thought it was a little over the top, Teacher … you were always so fussy about never bleeding … but Cassiopeia told me a very interesting thing about blood wards, once. She always said that they should really be called cell wards, because they work off thalergetic enzymes … which can be spoofed with a substantial thanergy burst and the blood of a close relative. A parent. A child.” The Emperor said, as though speaking to a kid: “And how would you ever—” and stopped. [...] “But it was only—” “The once? Yes, one evening planned down to the ground for five hundred years,” said the Saint of Patience.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit!!!!!!!!

Gideon Nav's father almost definitely confirmed to be THE EMPEROR??????

THIS was the purpose of the sexy parties???? LMAO?????????

“I’m—” I said. The world revolved. “I’m not fucking dead,” I said, which wasn’t even true, [...] “Hi, Not Fucking Dead,” he said. “I’m Dad.”

CUT!!!!!!!! FIREWORKS PLEASE OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!

That was the single best way to end that chapter ghholy fuck.

I learned WAY more than I bargaiend for in this chapter holy fucdk¬!!!!!!!!!!!

HOLY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[timegears-moved]

totk rant anon here again! i sent an ask yesterday but it might not have gone through? or you just might not have gotten around to it yet. in case you didn't get it at all, the most important info i wanted to convey is that if you do the windblight fight in air and lightning with any character other than link you get a very interesting line from revali at the end which i feel provides important context for the following cutscene! and if you want i can let you know exactly what he says so you don't have to play through that mission again.

now, on a slightly different note, i'm a bit late in saying this, but i believe you can actually progress relentless as a waterfall even if you have mipha on your team? you just have to take her over to the relevant captain and use her healing powers yourself (either by using her special move or, if you don't have that charged, using her water spout move.) alternately you miiight be able to order her to go there while switched to a different character and that might work too?

to be entirely honest it's been a while since i played through that particular mission so i might be wrong, but i think that generally when missions have requirements for specific characters to do certain things (i.e. move to a specific location) if you have that character on your team you have to do all the work yourself to progress the mission, whereas if they're an npc they'll move on their own. that being said, mipha being a healer makes it a bit more complicated than most instances of this, since she's also required to use her healing powers here, while with most characters all you need to do is move them to the right location.

OOPS sorry anon i did get your other ask but i didn't see it until just now!! i'll answer them both here!

OKAY SO LMAO i just finished redoing air and lightning with your advice (i had to go back and get the korok seeds anyway) and ummm? what the fuck GSJSBSKWJKSH???

jesus christ revali. i have to admit i have seen this quote in another post in his tag before but a lot of the replies were saying that this was in regards to teba??? so i didn't think much of it at the time. but like. learning now that he ONLY says this when you don't play as link makes it obvious that this isn't about teba at all??? insane.

and you're right about it giving additional context to the scene right after. like revali's very abrasive backhanded thanks to link seems to me like it's stemming from embarrassment at being saved by someone he wants to impress (not that he'll ever admit that). but link not being there allows revali an opportunity to say that he doesn't want to seem weak or vulnerable to him.

i'm gonna be honest totk is looking to be my least favourite of the trilogy rn so i'm not too bummed out by that sjbsjejdj. excited to get the aoc dlc though my autism desperately needs it

also in regards to relentless as a waterfall my issue was that my objective never changed from capturing the three outposts even after all of them were captured? i wouldn't have even known that mipha had to heal that captain if i hadn't seen a video of it. i may test what you said out though! not rn since i've had enough of that mission after doing it three times jshsjsosksk but of that is the case i wish the game was more clear on that because it was very confusing.

[the-professional-cocomeloner]

Augusnippets Day 14: Gifts/Celebration

Because God is dead, and they are still standing, and every day from this point onwards is a gift.

content warnings: - none, I don't think - ii ttake it back im sobinf theyre everything oh my god /silly

(link to Ao3 version)

@augusnippets

--

The weekend after God dies, they hold a celebration. 

Maybe just a party. Cecil insisted on calling it something fancier because the death of God was a big deal, so it should sound just as important as what it’s commemorating, but I’m trying to learn that maybe she isn’t right about everything, just… most things. 

…Shit. Don’t tell her I said that, or I’ll never hear the end of it. 

Really, though, contrary to Cecil’s assertions, it’s a lot more of a party than a celebration; for one, it’s small, since only the people who were there are here. ⍒ There isn’t really anyone else, anyways. ⍋ The decorations are pretty elaborate, but only because the SPIS bought out the whole party store and spent all of yesterday setting them up. 

Multicolored flags and streamers hang from every inch of ceiling, the plastic cups come with interesting patterns that I know Cecil can’t see but at least can feel, and in the middle of the table in the kitchen is a giant cake shaped vaguely how God looks in cartoons—because it would be pretty hard to translate a glowing ball of eyes and light and too many hungry teeth in icing—with red X’s over the eyes. 

Joan smirks at me from across the table, which makes me forget about the cake for a minute and feel like crying. Her being here, especially her making that face, an expression that’s so Joan, is in defiance to the order of things even moreso than my presence. Every day I’m reminded of how much stronger than me she is. 

“Holy shit,” Cecil laughs, a sound that fills my head and returns me to the moment, “‘t’s as big as me! How’re we s’posed ‘a eat this whole thing?” 

“Hungrily,” I reply, and the Virtue laughs again, a little sharper this time, and I don’t feel their elbow bumping against my ribs. At least they seem to be in the right place, because Cecil doesn’t react in the way that would suggest any of my anatomy’s wrong this time. 

“Also,” Jonah pipes, squeezing Adam’s hand a bit, “can y’ even, like, say ‘holy’ anymore? If, uh— God’s dead, an’ everythin’.” 

“Screw Him,” Joan says, a little hoarsely, and all eyes turn to her. She takes a breath, brow furrowing. Principalities weren’t meant to hold physical forms like this, and guilt swamps over me like a murky, all-consuming tidal wave in contrast to the bright decorations around us. “I say we talk ‘bout whatever ‘a fuck we want.” 

“Amen t’ that,” Lynn agrees, and a couple of giggles go up around the room. “So,” and now she turns to me and Cecil, “we already picked out a buncha songs to play, but I feel’ike you two should pitch in, too.” 

“Oh, Lynn, ya don’t know what you’ve just done,” Cecil starts to roll their eyes as I start forward, lips already pulling back into an evil grin. I hear a little yelp and stop abruptly, turning to realize my friend was holding my arm and I’d just almost made them lose their footing. 

⍒ Oops, sorry. ⍋ 

“He’s right, though,” I say as Cecil lets go, giving me a petulant look. “You’re gonna regret this decision.” 

“I work for you,” Lynn retorts with a narrow-eyed smirk, standing up to come closer to eye level. I know everyone here is still painfully aware of how dangerous it would be to act this way around a Dominion, if it were anyone but us, and yet there’s no taste of fear in the air. There’s a warring sensation in my chest at that thought, but the feeling of touch still hasn’t returned. “If I di’n’t build up a tolerance for The Cure,” Lynn continues, “I’d’a quit the second day.” 

“Got a point there,” I allow, managing a smile. 

“Okay, can we actually eat the cake now?” Adam asks. “I don’t know ‘bout you guys, but I’m starvin’ because someone—” he juts an accusatory thumb at Lynn and Joan, “—made us wait until y’ showed up so y’ could cut the first piece.” 

I straighten a little, unsure if my expression is surprised or blank when I meet my sister’s eyes. 

“Well, duh,” she grumbles, looking away in a more embarrassed-that-my-brother- actually-realized-I-respect-him than submissive-to-my-Evangelist way. “You’re kinda the whole reason we’re all alive an’ It isn’t. Only fair a ‘death a’ G-God—’” she stammers a bit with the word, still getting used to actually being able to say it again, “—party has the cake cut by the guy who actually killed Him.” 

“‘T’s a celebration,” Cecil whines quietly, and I decide to elbow him back this time. They give me a wounded look, melodramatically frowning and placing a hand to their chest. 

“Uh,” I glance at the faces of the others, “I don’t really have… a speech er anythin’ prepared.” 

“Thank G—” Adam catches himself, finishing in a slightly awkward rasp, “—Gophers.” 

“Idiot,” Jonah whispers affectionately. 

“You’re one t’ talk,” Adam hisses back. 

“Guys, come on,” Joan massages the ridges of her brows as though trying to dull an oncoming headache, starting to sound desperate. Lynn puts a hand in front of their mouth to hide their smirk. 

“Okay!” Believe it or not, I can take a hint. “Okay, cake-cuttin’ time! Right! Yes.” I ignore a muttered “Finally,” from Adam’s direction, devoting my energy into trying to find the cake knife. 

There’s a long pause. 

“Oh fer fuck’s sake,” Joan’s sudden hiss breaks the bated-breath silence, and the the skin on her arms ripples dangerously translucent for a moment. “Did no one remember a fuckin’ cake knife? Fer the cake?” 

A mixture of miserable groaning (Adam and Jonah) and hysterical laughter (Cecil and Lynn) erupts around me, though I find myself only able to frown at the cake. This is something I can puzzle out. If I can be Mark Bernard after he shattered and left me behind to rebuild myself, if I can kill God and live to throw a party with the people I care about afterwards, I can cut a stupid cake without a cake knife. 

“Hold on,” I say slowly, “I… got this.” 

Once again, all eyes are back on me, anticipation lacing the air. How lucky I don’t need to breathe. 

Cecil seems to be the only one who figures out what I’m planning to do before it happens, since he’s the only one who doesn’t gasp—or at least make any sort of surprised noise or expression—as the ink-tipped fingers of my left hand meld together into a sharpened blade the color of shadows at midnight. 

“…” Jonah’s eyes bug a little at the easily-deadly appendage, but what he says next catches me off-guard; “…Did y’ wash your hands first, dude?” 

Adam shoots his partner a look that says he’d eat the cake off the fucking floor if he had to, and Jonah shrinks back, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Aight, nevermind.” 

I glance at Joan for confirmation, but her eyes are fixed on her hands, where the tips of her fingers are beginning to unravel only slightly. 

◜ I’m not an expert on how sanitary true forms are, but I think I’d rather just cut the cake than deal with Adam when he’s hangry, ◞ Cecil offers me, looking antsy as he shifts his weight from side to side. ◜ If we survived last week, I think we can survive you not washing your knife-arm. ◞ 

With a shrug, I return my attention to Joan. Her hands are in her pockets, and she meets my gaze. “Wanna lead the countdown, sis?” 

“I’ll do ‘t,” Adam immediately offers. “Five four three two one. Happy fuckin’ new year. Cake now.” 

I chuckle and cut it, letting Cecil take charge of distributing it to everyone; at least someone remembered the paper plates. Adam tears into his like a starved animal, which is only mildly concerning, and Jonah watches him with a dreamy glaze in their eyes. 

“T’ that Fucker bein’ dead,” Joan toasts, raising her fork. Her fingertips have smoothed over again. 

“T’ the future,” Cecil adds. 

“T’ this cake!” Jonah jokes, and Adam nods in agreement before realizing he’s being mocked and switching flawlessly to a scowl. 

“T’ all a’ that,” I compromise. “‘Specially the future, I think.” 

“Haha, I got the Mark-approved toast,” Cecil brags. 

I pause before replying with the usual lighthearted jab. “Yeah, y’ did,” I say instead, smiling back and taking a bite of cake. 

The cheap plastic of the fork in my hand against my palm has never been such a welcome sensation.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Let Me Love You (Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi)

Pairing: Jeong Yunho × Plus sized! Reader (Female) × Song Mingi

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Summary: After finding out their girlfriend has been feeling insecure about her body, Mingi and Yunho take matters into their own hands to remind her that she is beautiful.

Word Count: 4.5+K

Warnings: Body insecurities (remember you are beautiful just the way you are), poly relationship, oral (female receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (female receiving), unprotected sex (always use protection). (This was utter trash)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @brie02 @deja-vux @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @nanamarkie @minhyukmyluv @yunsangoveryonder

Special requested by @monbaebes

ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ

Watching her favorite boys play around on the seashore, Y/N chuckled softly as she returned her gaze on the fruit in front of her. Picking up a small knife, she carefully began peeling some of the mangoes, apples and other of the juicy produce they had brought with them. Meanwhile she focused on making sure they had something to replenish their energy with, one of her lovers was concentrated on building a rather complicated architecture with the sand under his feet. Slowly but surely, the castle was beginning to take form and the man couldn't be much happier or pleased than seeing his masterpiece come to life.

"Mingi, think fast!" The other tall male shouted as he tossed the beach ball he was holding in the other's direction.

Mingi's naturally small eyes widened significantly as he witnessed his creation crumble down due to the impact of the beach ball colliding on top of it.

"Oops! Sorry bud!" The culprit grimaced as he saw the result of his little trick.

Immediately standing up, Mingi began chasing after his friend.

"I'm going to kill you Yunho!" He threatened, Yunho running and taking cover behind the oblivious girl who saw nothing that took place.

"What in the world?" She looked back and forth between the two guys.

Pointing an accusatory finger at him, Mingi let out a huff.

"He destroyed my sand castle that I was working so hard on!" He exclaimed.

"I didn't mean to." Yunho defended himself.

Not wanting them to get into a silly fight during their vacation, Y/N began to calm them both down.

"Come on you guys, you're making a scene over things kids would argue over. Seriously, this is why we hardly go out."

Hearing her displeased tone, the boys quickly straightened up their act and decided to just let it go. Seeing the delicious fruit in front of them, the young men sat at opposite sides of Y/N and dug into the food. She was grateful she opted for packing plenty of fruit given how much her boyfriends ate. She sometimes wondered if it was because they were so tall or because their stomachs were a bottomless pit. She decided a long time ago that it was probably a combination of the two.

As they enjoyed their snacks while enjoying the view in front of them, Y/N's wandering eyes soon locked themselves on the two women sitting not far from them. Although she wanted to look away before any negative thoughts clouded her mind, she couldn't help but admire their long, slim legs, their small waists and flat tummies. She envied their shape that they confidently showed off in their revealing and sensual bikinis, making more than a few heads turn in their direction to rake their eyes on their glamorous bodies. And there she was, feeling too big in her cami top and shorts.

Looking away with eyes falling on the strawberry she was holding, Y/N suddenly felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Losing her appetite, she tossed the fruit back in the container and just sat back, unable to hide her uncomfortable face which Yunho noticed right away.

"Honey, is something wrong? Do you not feel well?" He asked which immediately sparked the attention of the other male.

Although she didn't feel well indeed, Y/N didn't want to cause any alarm or have them fret over her behavior and decided to make up an excuse.

"I guess maybe I'm just exhausted after spending so much time out in the sun. I think I'm just going to go back to the hotel room. You guys stay here if you want."

Plastering on a reassuring smile, she gave them no chance to argue or say anything else as she quickly got off the beach towel and started heading back towards the hotel that was just in front of the beach. Her arms were crossed protectively in front of her chest, head lowered to avoid eye contact with the young men who were heading in the opposite direction. She shut her eyes when she heard them snicker behind her, no doubt making fun of her figure. She just wanted to lock herself in the room and crawl under the covers of the bed, just her alone with nobody else.

But the sudden calls for her from behind let her know that it wasn't going to be the case.

"Geez, couldn't you at least wait for us baby?" Mingi pouted as he linked an arm around her.

"Sorry, didn't want to cut your playtime at the beach short." She felt even more bad knowing they decided to follow her back.

"It's fine darling. It was getting too hot anyways. Besides we can have just as much fun in the hotel room as we do in the beach." Yunho added, leaning his face so he could whisper in her ear.

"Or maybe even more fun." He snickered suggestively, which made her blush and cling closer to the male on her right, who simply let out a small snort.

"Don't tease her Yunho. You know how shy she gets with these things." Unable to hold back from making her even more flustered, Mingi's hand that was on her waist dropping to slightly pinch her butt cheek.

"And it makes me want to eat her up even more."

With a soft huff, she shoved his hand away from him and simply walked faster to hide from their vulgar teasing that had her cheeks burning bright red.

"She's so adorable." Yunho chuckled, to which Mingi agreed with. Taking advantage of the fact she couldn't hear them, both of them started whispering a few things amongst themselves, huge grins plastering on their faces as they planned out how they were going to spend their night with their lovely girlfriend.

ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ

Staring at her reflection in the long body mirror, Y/N cringed at the sight. She knew the guys were waiting outside in the hot tub for her, no doubt aching to see her in the dark blue bikini they had picked out for her, a color Mingi aggressively shoved into Yunho who wanted to go instead for a more baby pink choice, but eventually caved into the other's choice. She didn't feel up to going out in it though, she felt it unflattering and unsuitable for someone her size. Stripping out of it, she tossed on a tank top and shorts once more, wanting to be as covered up as much as possible. Feeling satisfied with that, she quickly came out of the bathroom, not wanting to make the boys wait any longer.

Hearing the glass door of the room slide open, the young men excitedly looked over hoping to see their gorgeous girlfriend in a swimsuit they bought her, but their faces fell flat when they saw her clothing choice.

"What happened to the bikini we bought you? Oh god! Please don't tell me we got the wrong size." Mingi groaned, already beating himself up for an imaginary mistake.

"No it fit fine, I just.... I just prefer being like this." She replied as she slipped her body inside the hot water, setting herself in between both of the men, who wasted no time in drawing their bodies closer to her, effectively trapping her.

Looking up from one and then to the other, Y/N knew by the smiles on their face that they were up to something else and it wasn't particularly pure. Taking the lead as he usually did, Yunho brought a hand up to trace the outline of her jaw.

"So pretty..." He muttered as he bent his face down to hers.

Starting off with small pecks, Yunho eventually pressed his lips deeper into hers, hand still cupping her jaw so his thumb could draw circles around her cheek. Y/N moaned when she felt his tongue dart forward and infiltrate her mouth. She gave in and allowed him absolute control, moaning louder when he pulled her tongue inside his own mouth and briefly sucking on it. For a few minutes they were lost in their little world until the third person in the relationship reminded them of his presence.

"Ok you got your turn, now let me make out with my baby."

As soon as Yunho's mouth was detached from her lips, it was quickly replaced by Mingi's, who unlike the other male, was more fervent and rougher with his kisses. Whereas Yunho preferred a lot more tongue action, Mingi enjoyed nipping at his lover's lips. Indeed he made sure to get her lips as swollen and red as possible. His teeth endlessly tugged at her bottom lip, a smirk appearing on his features each time he drew out a gasp or whine from the girl in front of him. Her sounds intensified when she felt Yunho's lips occupying themselves on her shoulder and neck, leaving small love bites on the visible patches of skin. His large hand dove underwater to clasp at the end of her top, rising it up slowly so he could take it off her.

Feeling her insecurities rise up once more, Y/N quickly withdrew his hand off her body, ending the makeout session with her other boyfriend in the process.

"Baby did we do something wrong? Did we push it too far?" Yunho immediately worried that they hurt her in any way. Mingi was also mirroring the same feeling his friend was bearing.

"No, it's not you guys...it's me."

Both of the men looked at each other in confusion.

"Are you sick? Is that it? Why didn't you say something before." Mingi brought a palm over her forehead, attempting to figure out if she had a fever or not.

Shaking her head, Y/N took a deep breath before she went any further.

"I'm not sick I just hate my body ok? I hate being chubby, it makes all the clothes I wear look ugly on me. I wish I was skinnier like some of the female idols you guys see almost on the daily. Maybe then I'd be more attractive for you guys.."

Her confession broke them to pieces. They couldn't believe she felt that way and they cursed themselves for not noticing earlier on about their girlfriend's insecurities.

"But darling, you are very attractive just the way you are." Mingi spoke up, though they could tell his words didn't have much of an effect on her.

Joining in to make sure she felt loved, Yunho tilted Y/N's face so she could clearly see his sincerity at his next words.

"Listen to me, your body is very gorgeous just the way it is. You may not believe it, but trust me when I say Mingi and I are absolutely crazy about your body. It makes you more irresistible and we wouldn't have you any other way."

His words lightened her mood just a bit, a hint of a smile starting to form on the corners of her lips.

"And we're not the only ones who think so. There were some assholes who were shamelessly checking you out while we were trying to catch up with you back on the beach." Mingi added, face frowning as he recalled the way they heard the group of men talking about their girlfriend in such a lewd manner.

"What? N-no, I'm sure you got it wrong. They were probably making fun of me." Her theory however was quickly shut down by Yunho.

"No baby, we heard them clearly as they went on and on about how hot you look....among other things that weren't exactly family friendly." Although he tried to hide it, Yunho couldn't keep his teeth from gritting against each other in a jealous manner.

"And we saw how their faces kept turning to stare at your ass." Mingi recalled rather unhappily.

Y/N felt even more embarrassed now, her hands coming up to hide her reddened face, which continued to stay hidden even when she felt both males press themselves into her.

"But if that still doesn't convince you, how about you let us demonstrate how much we adore your figure?"

Peeking out and uncovering her face, Y/N took in their hungry gazes that were awaiting for permission to devour her. Although she nodded slightly, it wasn't enough for them.

"Darling use your words please. We'd much rather hear you say how much you want us as well." Mingi deepened his voice enough to cause an effect on her.

Biting down on her lip, Y/N's voice shyly spoke out.

"Please.... touch me." She gulped before uttering her next words.

"Make love to me."

Finally hearing the magic words, both men stood up, their bodies drenched and pouring water. Taking hold of Y/N, Mingi brought her out of the hot tub as well and sat her in front of him on the wood extension of the hot tub. Reaching for her shirt, he quickly peeled it off her body and moved it somewhere else while Yunho took care of her lower half, removing her shorts and equally discarding them somewhere else.

"Fuck, she looks so damn pretty." Yunho marveled at the sight of her bare, soaked body right in front of him.

Snaking his hands down her torso, Mingi gripped the top of her thighs so he could pry them open, letting Yunho gaze into her exposed heat. He let out a chuckle at his friend's star struck expression.

"Well? Don't just stand there like an idiot. Put those long ass fingers of yours to work." Mingi told him.

Instructing Y/N to keep her legs wide open, Mingi brought his hands back up her body so they could cup her breasts. He squeezed them in between his fingers, astonished at feeling how soft and tender they were. While she was still getting adjusted to the feeling of Mingi's hands around her boobs, Yunho came up in front of her and began kissing along her collarbone, making her tilt her head back.

"God your boobs are so squishy." Mingi groaned as he pressed them against each other, thumbs tweaking at her nipples.

While Mingi's hands continued playing around with her chest, Yunho took advantage of her dazed state to brush his fingers along one of her thighs. Creeping it closer in between her legs, his thumb started slow and gentle motions on her clit. He smiled against her neck when he felt her shudder as he pressed down on her button.

"Mingi be sure to hold her steady while I finger her pretty pussy. You know how she tends to get."

Removing his hands off her breasts, Mingi proceeded to move them to her hips, knowing fully well they'd be wanting to buck into Yunho's hand. Y/N looked down and watched intently as one of Yunho's fingers slowly slipped inside her hole. She gaped with amazement as he effortlessly slid his finger out of her body and then back inside. It always amazed her how such a little action could make her so weak and pliant towards her lovers. Yunho of course knew this and loved to use it against her. Smiling ever so smugly, he inserted a second finger into her hole, his pace starting to pick up. Her breath hitched as she craned her neck back to rest her head on Mingi's shoulder, the latter taking the opportunity to plaster kisses on the side of her cheek.

"Do you like having Yunho's fingers inside of you babygirl?" He asked, lips brushing against her earlobe.

"Y-yes." She responded.

When her thighs tried to close, Mingi was quick to pry them back apart, his grip tight enough that they could leave prints on her skin.

"No babygirl, keep those pretty legs of yours open for Yunho."

Knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge, Yunho angled his fingers upward so they could rub at her sweet spot as he continued to wiggle his fingers inside of her. A third finger was added to the combination, which had the recipient crying out from the stretch.

"How on earth are you always so tight babygirl? It's like we don't fuck you enough." Yunho expressed, thumb circling on her nub with more detailed and faster motions.

The wet and sloppy sounds emanating from between her legs were like music to both men's ears. They enjoyed hearing how wet they could make her become, Mingi especially licked his lips as he saw how her folds started to glisten from all the arousal seeping out of her.

"Shit, her pussy looks so good. I can't wait to eat her out."

Shooting a smirk to his friend, Yunho worked his fingers deeper into his girlfriend's core, thrusting them sporadically in an effort to bring her closer to her high.

"Well just let me get her cum with my fingers and then I'll leave her in your hands..... or should I say mouth?"

Hearing them say what they were going to do to her made Y/N shudder. With eyes shut, her voice slightly broke into half cries half whimpers as she came on Yunho's fingers. Mingi's hold on her thighs prevented her from shutting her legs and thus making her orgasm feel more intense as it washed all throughout her body. Making sure to keep his fingers lodged inside until she came down from her high, Yunho gently leaned in to press a kiss on the corner of Y/N's mouth.

"Look babygirl."

Opening her eyes, she was met with the sight of Yunho's fingers pulling out of her heat. They were covered completely in her cum, leaving her surprised that she could produce that much from just his fingers. Keeping eye contact with her, he brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them clean.

"Oh Mingi, you're going to definitely enjoy eating her out." Yunho locked eyes with the other male, sending him a knowing wink.

"Then I guess I better not let her juices go to waste."

Moving her body so she could face him, Mingi layed down on his back and motioned for Y/N to move herself on top of his face, which she hesitated to do. Sensing what she was worried about, Mingi smiled at her.

"Baby, it's ok. I want to feel those thick thighs of yours on me. Now come over here and smother my face with your sweet pussy."

Getting help from Yunho who took hold of her arms, he placed her right on top of Mingi's face. Spreading her lips apart, Mingi's tongue came up to lick up the leftover arousal from Yunho's previous fingering session. Y/N couldn't help but gasp not just from the over sensitivity of her pussy, but from Mingi's warm mouth consuming her taste. Closing his eyes, Mingi lost himself in the sweetness her body had to offer. Flicking his tongue out, he made sure to pay close attention to her clit, circling the tip of his wet muscle around it. As if they had a mind of their own, Y/N's hips began to slowly grind down against Mingi's tongue movements. When she noticed what she was doing, she made an attempt to stop her motions.

"No babygirl. Show Mingi how much you enjoy having him eat you out. He told you to smother his face and that's what you're going to give him. After all, that is what he wants. Don't you Mingi?" Yunho piped up.

The man underneath Y/N responded with a muffled moan against her wetness. His hands clasped themselves on her ass, harshly slamming her down until her heat was covering the entirety of his face. Guiding her hips, he made her drag her core along his tongue over and over, slurping up every inch of tender flesh without leaving any patch dry. Y/N began panting, each stroke of Mingi's tongue making her fall deeper in that hazy state she had been in just moments ago while Yunho had his fingers knuckles deep in her. And both men knew it, they had learned and memorized each pitch of her sounds and every tick of her body to know what she liked and when she'd come crumbling down from the pleasure they gave her.

Knowing she needed a little encouragement, Yunho began peppering open mouth kisses along her neck as his fingers brushed along the sides of her waist.

"Go ahead love. Cum all over Mingi's face. Make a mess of his pretty face." He softly instructed her. A pleased grin framed Yunho's face as merely seconds later, Y/N fulfilled his command. Mingi groaned wildly as his face was smothered by her mound, her thighs trembling and clenching around his skull as another flood of her juices poured out onto his face. Making sure to lick up as much as possible, Mingi detached his mouth from her reddened folds with an audible pop, a proud smirk on his face that he was not wiping off at any moment.

Knowing she was still too worked up from her orgasm, Yunho carefully lifted her up into his arms. Gesturing for Mingi to follow, he carried her bridal style back inside their room, where he layed her down on the soft king sized bed. Stripping themselves out of their swimming trunks, the men whispered a few words amongst each other before reaching the decision of who got to have her first. The beaming look on Mingi's features answered her thoughts on who it was.

Setting himself right next to her, Mingi began stroking his already hard length.

"Come here baby. Hop your pretty self on top and ride me." He motioned for her to sit on top of him.

With hands pressed to his chest, Y/N slowly sunk herself down until his entire cock was safely nestled inside her. Hissing at the excruciatingly tight grip her tender flesh had on him, Mingi looked over to Yunho, who already had one hand wrapped tightly on his dick.

"We really should fuck her more often, she's unbelievably tight." His voice rasped out.

"Well why don't you do something about it? You're literally inside her idiot." Yunho reminded him rather agitated, anxious to get his own turn with his beloved girl.

With sharp cries, Y/N held onto the headboard in front of her as the man underneath her started pounding his hips up into her. Their moans were filling up the room, along with the slick sounds protruding from between their thighs, where they were connected. Yunho eagerly watched them, his hand working to stroke his twitching cock, making sure not to speed up in case he accidentally made himself cum. He knew he'd get his turn soon, but for the moment, he reveled at seeing the two individuals he cared about the most be so intimate with each other. He watched as their facial muscles started contorting and scrunching up with pleasure, their bodies starting to layer a thin sheen of sweat from the intensity of their love making.

Already vulnerable from the previous 2 orgasms, Y/N started to feel that familiar heat pooling in her lower abdomen, spreading under her skin and making her dizzy with lust. Mingi's pace turned slightly more rough. He loved watching as he made his girlfriend ride his cock, especially when he was blessed with the sight of her breasts bouncing right in front of him. He thought it was one of the most amazing sights to behold. Sensing that she was close given how worked out they had gotten her before and by the way her sounds grew more frantic, Mingi gripped at her sides to hold her down as he bucked his cock deep enough to have her crying out.

"That's it babygirl. Let yourself go. Cum all over me." He grunted at her, feeling himself reach his own brink from the frenetic pace he set for themselves.

With aching thighs, Y/N violently shook on top of him, vision darkening as her mind only payed attention to the sensation of her walls clamping around her lover's cock. Feeling overly constricted to the point of hurting in a most delicious grip, Mingi quickly pulled himself out of her core before any of his cum could start spilling inside her. With the help of his hand, he finished himself off by spurting drops of cum onto her thighs and stomach, some of them dripping off to land on the sheets underneath them.

"Oh my God." Mingi threw his head back onto the pillow behind him as he tried to steady his racing heart.

Finally seeing his cue to come in, Yunho fitted himself on the large king sized bed and carefully pulled Y/N off Mingi's lap to sat her on top of his own. Whereas Mingi preferred having her face him, Yunho opted to keep her facing away, pressing his chest onto her back. His voice gently shushed her whimpers as he sunk her down onto his overly endowed length. Fitting himself in her always took a little longer due to his size.

"You're doing so well baby." He cooed in her ear as he waited for her to adjust to him. Mingi was definitely right in exclaiming how tight she was, he himself was gritting his teeth at how hard her walls were squeezing at his shaft.

Knowing she was overly sensitive, clit swollen and folds puffed up, Yunho decided to go for a more slow and sensual pace. His hands gently rolled her hips to move on top of him, soft and blissful sighs being breathed out of their mouths. He made sure not to overwhelm her, and he himself wanted to enjoy the moment for as long as possible. When he heard her agitated moan, he let her relax on top of him as his hips took over. He was careful not to snap his hips too aggressively, still being gentle and precise with each thrust he shot up at her. With one hand sliding in between her legs, his fingers brushed against her pinkied clit before carefully circling around it.

"You're so beautiful my dear. Absolutely perfect." He murmured against her neck whilst his lips pressed tiny kisses on her warm skin.

Y/N gasped when she felt his pace slightly speed up, causing her body to jolt forward, which was stopped from falling when Yunho's arms held her in a tight embrace to keep her close to him. She knew she was definitely waking up sore the next morning, her thighs were already burning from cumming so much and from being bounced on top of two monster cocks that belonged to her tall boyfriends. Her 4th orgasm of the night slowly and silently crept up on her, rendering her almost numb to everything except the dull sting of her juices pouring out once more onto Yunho's cock. Even after she felt him pull out and coat her backside with his hot seed, she was still in hazy state, worn out after all the attention the two men bestowed upon them. The last thing she saw before passing out on the bed was Yunho's voice purring in her ear:

"Remember Mingi and I love you just the way you are..."

[cescalr]

thalia x reyna from percy jackson for the ask (i'm pretty sure you've read heroes of olympus but if i'm wrong, ronance from stranger things)

I will answer both and this is gonna be soooo controversial (for the second) lol ack

Also; I'm on mobile, and this is going to get long, and i cant link any suppirting posts that explain my perspectives better than i can, lol. If you want, i'll dm the metas. I hope I get the keep reading thing right, but if it doesn't work... sorry. Summary:

Tl:dr; I could see reynalia working, maybe, but I'd need to read some to get a proper feel for it. It might be one of those cases where I prefer it in polyamorous form, aka reynaliabeth. Reynabethalia. Or maybe when put alongside pipabeth (idk piper/annabeth...) Idk. As for ronance, just not my cup of tea for a variety of reasons. I prefer robin crossover ships, like my tiny little dingy of tarabin. (Tara Maclay/Robin Bucley).

Reyna/Thaila (reynalia??) Is not something I've ever considered, to be honest. I'm not sure how compatible they'd be, but I do ship annabeth/thalia (I should really look up pjo ship names, huh) and I've even given thalia/percy a go, because I'm firmly in the camp that you should give most ships a chance before you write them off completely (as it stands, the most controversial pjo ship I've ever read would either be luke/percy or nico/Sadie - that was written before he was confirmed as gay, though, so it's a grey area, like pre-confirmation romantic stobin fics, or willow/oz content, though differently so for the latter*).

Given all the above, I can't say I don't ship it, but I can say I'm not sure. I think given I like thaliabeth (??) and reynabeth, it wouldn't be a stretch to ship reynalia, though!

(*willow is controversial because of a clash between people who interpret her being called a lwsbian as biphobic vs people thinking calling her bisexual as lesbiphobic, its a whole deal I don't want to her into rn but... eeh, I guess I should state that I'm in the camp that her being bisexual is the most logical reading of canon, her status as a lesbian is a self-identifier because she swore off dating men, not because she isn't attracted to them - she cheated on Oz with Xander for purely lust related reasons, her whole thing with the will be done spell, and her actions with Amy when she goes off the rails (magically forcing men to dance half naked In cages in the bronze, along with other questionable acts) is... uh, not particularly lesbian behaviour, generally speaking; imo, Willow uses being gay as a mask for her insecurities same as she does her witchy power and her choice of fashion - to distance herself from the 'pathetic' girl she used to be. Its a whole psychological thing tied up in era-typical bigotry, unfortunately. It was the 90s. She wasn't going to be addressed as bi, even though she so clearly was. There's a reason I really like 2000s doctor who - it was the first positive representation of a bisexual I'd seen on screen, and being bisexual is clearly going to affect my opinion, here. Like. Duh. Same with lesbians who interpret her as lesbian. I don't think we should be arguing- at the end of the day, we all technically want the same thing; personal representation of our own lived experiences, and that's not a bad thing. Theres a good video on youtube about the controversy, which. Theres always a good video on youtube, lol.)

Um. Oops, rambling. Anyway.

So, ronance. Oh boy.

I see Nancy as straight. I'm also not fond of how she treats Robin in the little time we see them together. Im also not a fan of robin dating the ex that broke her bestie's heart. So, ergo, I don't ship them. I'm genuinely, as much as it probably doesn't seem that way, more of a fan of friendship, at the end of the day. I would see it as a betrayal (same way I see scolia and stydia as a betrayal). I tend to use romantic/sexual relations as a way to explore character because that's easiest to get my points across, but I prefer friendship. Romance is, at the end of the day, conditional. Friends can be friends still after three years of no contact, but that's a signal for the end of a romance. So what I'm getting at here - you can be tentative friends with someone the way robin and Nancy act (as is their canon dynamic), but I wouldn't be conformable with them dating. Nancy barely tolerates Robin. She displays annoyance at pretty much everything she does, from rambling to venting to expositing her mental state, Nancy's countenance just screamed 'I'm waiting for this to stop'. I don't like that in friendship, and I like it much less in romance. Even with my most controversial ships, there's still a kind of passion. Hate is not the opposite of love - it's apathy. Nancy seems often apathetic to Robin's mental state, her worries and concerns. She dismisses a lot of what robin says and does, at least from my perspective watching them. And it must be said - and I'll freely admit - I'm not Nancy's biggest fan, but I love Robin, she's my girl. That's going to cause some problems. Even with ships that are objectively questionable, I have to like both characters for me to get behind it, or I have to like both characters when in the context of the ship. This makes little sense, so I'll extrapolate.

In the Vampire Diaries, I don't really like Stefan Salvatore, and unpopular opinion time, I hate Klaus. I really, really hate him. At this point, it's straight-up loathing. But I greatly enjoyed their dynamics, from 20s to modern day, and that they shared an ex was funny to me (same way it is with Zutara, and making jetko kinda-canon for that reason alone half the time, akfjqlfjwk) as well as being an interesting thing to happen. (I mean, what are the odds, really?). So there's that. I also liked stefan and Katherine's whole weird deal, which played an aspect. What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that there's a certain respect even in my most dubious ships (jetko, steo, fuffy, spuffy, etc) that I feel is completely lacking in ronance. There's a video by Jill Bearup about enemies to lovers ships that might give a good reason to one aspect of why I like it - they take each other seriously. There's an understanding of competence, an acknowledgement of thought processes, a certain level of understanding. Nancy has none of that for Robin.

When I compare the two ships of the 'fruity four', as people have taken to calling them, steddie and ronance strike me as two very different kinds of ships. And I only half get steddie (very not fond of popular portrayal) - there's no real chance for me to get ronance. It is what it is, I suppose. People like what they're going to like. If you want me to extrapolate on any of this, I'd be happy to! My thoughts are oft all over the place and need a bit of direction to make sense, though, fair warning. I think about a lot of stuff and only rarely coherently akdhlwkfkq but I think there is a throughline. At the end of the day, mutual respect is mandatory for me, in romantix relationships especially, but not only for that. If I can't really get behind ronance platonically, there's no hope for romantically. And for the record, as stated above, I did give it a shot. Read the most popular fics and then a couple of the most recent, as I always do. They didn't agree with me, and they left me feeling distinctly... well, not so distinctly because I can't find the right word, but I couldn't help feeling the way I do about the popular portrayal of Hermione is happening to nancy? She's perfect and flawless and a girl boss and has never made a mistake ever and I just.... eeh. Also the treatment of Robin is... not always great. But that's a whole 'nother topic I've already rambled long enough, I don't need to add that.

Basically, tl:dr; ronance is kind of disquieting, probably because I'm not fond of their characterisations within ronance fics, and I'm often affected by the fanon regarding a ship. I never liked Sterek, for example, but I could've tolerated it if a) it wasn't so prevalent in fandom that it appears often untagged like an accepted part of canon when it is not and b) if it didn't so wildly misinterpret the characters, plus didn't include a character that doesn't sit right with me (Derek - Nancy) and a character I love but portrayed in a way that doesn't even remotely align with my interpretation of them 95% of the time (Stiles - Robin).

Er. Yeah. Oof.

Tl:dr; I could see reynalia working, maybe, but I'd need to read some to get a proper feel for it. It might be one of those cases where I prefer it in polyamorous form, aka reynaliabeth. Reynabethalia. Or maybe when put alongside pipabeth (idk piper/annabeth...) Idk. As for ronance, just not my cup of tea for a variety of reasons. I prefer robin crossover ships, like my tiny little dingy of tarabin. (Tara Maclay/Robin Bucley).

:).

(As you can probably tell, I have... lots of very complicated feelings about shipping Robin (and like, shipping in general, being honest) with canon ST characters. I'm much less strict abt Riordanverse characters as a whole, for reasons I'd be perfectly willing to extrapolate on/discuss if you'd like to do so!).

♡♡

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day four of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was Sunglasses!

Steve has a lot of secrets. Too many probably.

Most teenagers’ secrets are things like sleeping with the wrong people, smoking the cheap shit the jocks pass out, broken curfews and failing grades. He’s got all of those too, but Steve's secret runs much deeper than that.

His is the kind of secret that’d have men in black suits coming to take him away, or at this point, more than a decade after letting him go in the first place, putting a bullet in the back of his skull and calling it a day before any trouble comes up.

He’s been stuck in Hawkins all his life. Been fed the knowledge about the world off a silver spoon he didn’t ask for. His first five years of life are well forgotten to shock therapy and to the lab, where they intended to use him and the rest of the kids like him as weapons. Pawns in their big game of life.

But Steve was different. He could turn his powers off, make them undetectable by the machines they hooked him up to. They thought he was just a failure, so after so long, they wiped his brain with their very own cocktail of drugs and just let him go. Adopted him out to a middle aged dink couple who wouldn’t run their mouths about where their little bundle of joy came from as long as their pockets were lined with enough hush money, and that was that.

It didn’t take long for them to realize though, that he wasn’t as normal as they had been convinced he was. Not even knowing he was doing anything wrong, little Stevie would have outbursts, or small tantrums as momma always tried to convince everyone who told her Steve was too much for her to handle.

These weren’t just normal crying fits though. Anyone who got near him would be just as sad or scared or frustrated as he was. A single sob from that boy had enough power to crack the foundations of the family home.

Most kids when they have a cranky morning will get on the nerves of their parents, but Steve could disrupt the whole neighborhood without even realizing it. And that was his power.

They didn’t have a name for it, really. The range of what he can do is too broad, too undefined by anything else. There was a telekinetic girl, a pyrokinetic he’s pretty sure is dead now. But Steve was just special. Part of what made it so easy to go under their radar was this, but it also made him a risk.

The only reason he wasn’t immediately reported and given back to the bad men was the power this frail boy carried. It scared Ruthie and John, and they decided that they’d rather face the men at that lab again than a seven year old who could accidentally destroy them with his emotions.

So they kept him, and certainly kept their distance. They forced him into a little mold of how to behave properly and made him take pills to weaken his powers. They send him to behavioral therapy and make him act like he’s not a failed government experiment. A fact which he only learned a couple of years ago after his pills worked a little too well at messing with his memory that he forgot to take them, and memories came flooding back.

For the same reasons, Steve’s bored of being careful. Bored of following all the rules and being passive, just pretending he’s like everyone else so mommy and daddy dearest are safe. He starts getting a little riskier, testing what he can do, since this is the first time he’s ever really had control over his ability. He finds a link with other people and their emotions, something of an empathy power, but he doesn’t get far in his research, because his plan very quickly goes to shit when Billy Hargrove rolls into town.

Where to begin with Billy. That boy makes him feel all sorts of things he never even considered. The very first day he showed his unimpressed (but very impressive) face at Hawkins high, Steve cracks his windshield. Oops.

He was able to tap into that control and tone it down, but that reserve dwindled the more he’s around Billy, and from there it just spirals. Bending the basketball hoop on accident, exploding light fixtures, giving everyone in the school headaches. It gets to the point where Steve has to come to terms with the fact that he had a crush on Billy, and that he has to do something to get it back under his control before somebody gets hurt.

That and he doesn’t want to get caught now. He just got back into the swing of using his powers before Billy interrupted his calm. Going back there, or whatever else might happen, is the last thing he wants for himself.

He settles for a pair of ray bans.

It’s stupid, but when Steve was still young and all but popping his mommas brains every single time he cried, she was desperate to find a way to get him to stop. She started to notice he’d concentrate hard on one thing and another would happen, staring at a lamp until it shattered, looking into her face until her ears started to ring and pop. So she does what she can to break that subconscious focus. Puts a barrier between him and all that he’s hurting. A plastic, race car themed barrier, but it does its job, and it worked every time until they got him on meds. So now that he’s old enough not to just tear the damn things right off his face, he figures it’s worth a shot.

Because nothing had made him this emotional, this out of control since the day he found out the truth about his past. Billy is special, and the very last thing he wants is to lose control and hurt him.

He still feels like a dope walking into the school with a pair of shades on. Everyone starts to stare in that way he tries not to let remind him of the lab and the doctors standing in circles around him, prodding and waiting for a reaction. Steve thinks wearing sunglass inside is the least weird thing to happen in the halls of a highschool if Tina can come in with a perm high enough to touch the ceiling, but whatever. He’ll get over it.

The fact that nothing’s exploded from how on edge he is, mostly from wondering if his momma’s trick will work and not because of their judgement, is a very good sign.

Boldly, he decides to put it to the ultimate test, and approaches Billy.

In his head, he’s so focused on just going to talk to Billy, he has nothing planned to say to him, but he thinks he would’ve forgotten anyways, what with the lazy smile Billy flashes him when he notices him approaching.

Steve’s gaze quickly darts past Billy to check for damage to anything, the racing in his chest from just a look like that typically enough to at least crack a window. Maybe he’s not as confident about this as he thought, or maybe Billy’s just really good at making him flustered.

Doesn’t matter, because he’s at the other boys locker before he has time to process what he’s doing, “Lookin’ for somethin’ Harrington?”

“Oh, yeah, I was just checking for uh, my fans. Yeah, they follow me around everywhere, you know?” It’s bullshit, and it sounds more than dumb coming out of Steve’s mouth, but it makes Billy laugh, real low and raspy and that’s a win in his book.

“That what the little disguise is for?” Billy hums and taps his temple, clearly referring to the sun glasses perched on Steve’s nose.

“Oh these? No, I uh, wear these ‘cause of the uh.. because I wanna sleep in class and down want the teachers to know?” His answer comes as more of a question than anything, so he’s grateful when Billy seems to be more interested in his excuse than the subject at hand.

“Pfft, yeah right. I’ve heard you sleepin’ on the basketball bus. Ain’t no way your snoring doesn’t get you caught before your eyes do.”

Steve just waves him off, laughs with Billy even if his heart isn’t in it.

Billy closes his locker door, switching the subject as the scenery switches. It’s all a distraction to Steve, but he forces himself to look Billy in the face as the other boy asks him, “Seriously though dude, you okay? It ain’t like you to switch up your look. You’re not hiding anythin’ under the shades are you?”

“Nah. Just been thinking, I’m not the King because I’m not cool anymore, right? So I’m tryin’ to look a little more.. interesting.” Steve’s not a very quick or good liar, despite the military guarded secret that is himself and the little black number seven carved into his arm, and he can tell Billy doesn’t buy it.

He’s a good sport though, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and assuring him with a little jostle, “Aw, Stevie, you're cool in my book. At least as long as you quit comin’ up with reasons not to hang with me, yeah?”

“Yeah, I- alright. I can do that. Sorry for flaking so much though. Didn’t realize until you said something.”

“S’Cool. Just meet me at the quarry after dark and it’ll make up for it.” Billy offers, obviously trying to play up the coolness neither of them apparently actually have, and Steve can’t help but call him on it. “It gets dark at like, four-thirty, five o’clock anymore?”

“Fine. Meet me at nine, pretty boy.” Billy smirks, dropping his voice to add knowingly, “And lose the shades. I think you’re much more interesting without ‘em.”

[jungk0oksthighs]

i get asked a lot about my tag list, so i’m writing this post to link *somewhere* on my blog

i do not have a tag list! for any of my series, any of my oneshots, any of my uploads etc. nor will i be making a tag list for my work! i’m very sorry if this disappoints you! but here’s why:

all my writing is minors dni, 18+ content! i don’t want to accidentally tag underage readers in any of the mature themes i write about. not everybody on here is transparent about their age unfortunately, and not having a tag list gives me peace of mind that i’m not actively giving minors access to such inappropriate content. it’s not just about the smut either (though i do write a lot of smut oops)

but some of my work touches on themes such as: addiction, ab0rtion, toxic relationship dynamics be it between family or romantic partners. death, revenge porn, infertility, terminal illness and that’s just to name a few!

as a content creator i feel it’s my responsibility to limit the interactions this work has with minors, because absorbing such content at a young age can be very damaging to their overall mental health and well-being and that is not what i’m about!

as a content creator i want to write about these topics and start the conversations that need to be discussed more. i want to shine a light on these ‘taboo’ subjects. i want to include realism into my stories and not all of that means sunshine and rainbows unfortunately, ofc like any writer i do have my limits to what i’m comfortable with writing. i will never ever write anything non-con, with a r4pe narrative and there are other themes i’ll never deem appropriate enough to discuss within fiction.

anyways i’m sorry for the tangent, but this is why i don’t have a tag list! the last thing i want to do is put myself and my writing out there without giving it appropriate warnings and an age rating, everything i write is 18+, everything. and while i know unfortunately minors do stumble across this blog and my fics (just to reiterate i am a minors dni blog if I see any reblogs from a minor they do get soft blocked) i have no desire to actively promote my work to the wrong audience. i’m very sorry if this upsets anybody but the people who share my mindset about tag lists will get it 100%

i understand it can be frustrating checking for updates as opposed to being notified but a tag list is just something i’m not willing to make. this is NO DISRESPECT to authors and other cc’s who have tag lists by the way, if they’re comfortable having a tag list that’s their choice and i respect that. but for my own sanity & peace of mind i do not have one

if you stuck around long enough to read there’s here’s a gold star ⭐️ i’m very sorry i wasn’t planning on this being so long haha, thank u guys i really do hope u understand 💜💜💜💜

[krabstick32]

Your Hand in Marriage

Pairing: Giyuu x Reader

Synopsis: Headcanon/scenario for how Giyuu proposed...how he asked you to marry him...how he popped the question

Tags/warnings: There is slight mention of near-death, but yes, all fluff apart from that!! Also, this can be taken as modern or during canon timeline, whichever works really

a/n: again, thank you so much for requesting anon!! apologies for taking so long :((( i hope you like it though 🥺

LINK to the ask: Request by Anon

anyway, please enjoy!! <33

When he knew you were the one, marriage was always in the back of his mind

You made him yearn for something he feels like could never have

He dreamed of living a quiet, peaceful life with you, to build a warm home and a loving family

And he wanted it so badly

But he couldn’t

Not when he lived the life of a demon slayer—a pillar no less!—not when they were fighting a literal war against the demons who brought so much pain to him, to you, to so many people

He didn’t want his family grow in a world where demon exists

You two talked about this already

And you’ve both agreed that you’re all fine with not getting married even if both of you wanted it more than anything

Your jobs were dangerous—one wrong move could mean death

Both of you entered the corps knowing the consequences, and have made peace with that fact 

I mean, you were open to getting married to him

and as much as he loves you, a lot

He didn't want marriage if it only leads to you dying 

this man has experienced so much loss already, he can’t lose you too.

And you respected that. You didn’t care much for labels. 

Marriage was, in essence, just a piece of paper to prove your relationship, and you knew that you loved each other too much to let a mere document dictate your relationship. 

You don’t mind just staying as boyfriend and girlfriend, you’ll take whatever he’s willing to give

One day, on his way home (to you uwu), he passes by a jewelry store, and sees the ring

Now, Giyuu was never an impulsive buyer, but the ring was perfect.

He could clearly picture it on your left ring finger and—

Oops, he now has a ring in his pocket

It would either be a real classy ring—you know, the classic engagement ring with a yellow gold band and a sizable diamond in the middle

OR

A unique and pretty ring that reminds him of you—a ring designed with sapphires and diamonds. 

(only the best for u after all uwu)

We all know man´s rich enough for it

(giyuu is a pillar. he can literally afford to buy everyone in the corps this ring, and still have left over money to have a lifetime supply of salmon daikon if he wanted to.)

When he got home, his stupidly impulsive buy just dawned on him and u bet he was awkward with you until he found the sneakiest hiding spot for it

((it was hidden underneath a shingle on the roof—a little overkill honestly))

Anyway, all was normal

But Gods, everything changed when the fire nation attacked when you were called to the Butterfly Wing.

He was finishing up on a mission with another pillar, Shinazugawa, and four other slayers (ranked kinoe’s and kinoto’s) when they ran into an upper moon.

And surprisingly, all of these slayers came home, bruised and a lot bloody, but alive.

As you were listening to the report at the Ubuyashiki estate for a meeting, you were relieved to hear that—six demon slayers, all alive after an encounter with an upper moon!!—but when you heard the entire report, your stomach dropped in dread and you dead-ass sprinted out the door to go straight into the butterfly wing.

(You can apologize to the Oyakata-sama later though he was a second away from shooing you out the door)

Because Giyuu—

Giyuu was there 

Your stupid, brave, lovable Giyuu,

Threw himself in front of his fellow slayers to take the brunt of the hit with lull, and so very nearly died when he got hit by the demon’s blood art.

It worked though, because now, the demon got distracted, giving the others ample time to deal with the minions

Once Sanemi and the others were able to lop its head off, the kakushi arrived promptly and rushed everyone back to the butterfly estate.

He woke up after a week. That was the extent of the damage brought to him by that near fatal blow.

First thing he saw was you

You were sound asleep right by his bed, slouched over the visitor’s chair in a position Giyuu knew was anything but comfortable. He was quick to note the dark circles under your eyes, briefly wondering how long you were there. You looked a little cold, so he moved to place the extra blanket from his bedside over you, but you immediately stir when you felt the slightest movement.

“Giyuu? Sweetheart, are you…?”

Seeing him awake felt like a huge bucket of water was poured over you. Any trace of sleep was gone from your body—you were wide awake in a flash, relieved and grateful that he was alive.

“Hello—“ His voice was a little raspier than either of you liked, but yours however, was fine, and healthy enough to to speak your mind. 

“You dumbass!” You hiss, throwing him a light glare.“Do you know how worried I was? How scared I was? I thought I was going to lose you!”

“I’m sorry.” He says, and squirms slightly under your gaze. He would’ve looked away, but he’s missed you a lot. Wasting a few seconds from cowering in slight shame and a little fear would be unbecoming of a Pillar.

“Don’t say sorry!” You were trying so hard to look stern and mad, but having the love of your life nearly taken away from you? You nearly lost him—all you wanted was to just touch him, and never let him go.

Tears start slipping down your eyes before you could stop yourself. Without a word, you wrap your arms over his neck, nearly straddling him as you buried your face in his neck. You try to memorize how his body felt against yours, clinging to him like your life depended on it—and in a way, it did. 

“You!—don’t ever do that to me again!” You cry, being mindful of his injuries as you hold him tighter. Neither of you make mention of how his hospital clothes were starting to grow damp. “If you die and leave me alone, I swear to the gods—!” 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, because what else can he say? He wasn’t aware of how close he was to losing you, until he woke up from the week-long coma. He made you sad, and worry over him, and he never wants to see you cry ever again. He brings you closer against his chest, and says a silent thank you to whatever god let him live. 

“You better be!” You mumble.

“I am. I missed you.” He drops his head against your shoulder, and holds you tighter against him.

Still mindful of his injuries, you return his hug tenfold. “I missed you too.”

Neither of you let go until Shinobu and Aoi dropped by to clean and redress his wounds. 

Afterwards though neither of you left each other’s side (I mean, it’s not like Giyuu could, but you get my point), 

Anyway, even if one of the butterfly girls or even Shinobu came in to give him meds—

He would always be touching you

Holding pinkies, even holding hands, which was a surprising, since he wasn’t much for PDA.

Another surprising fact was that Shinobu would only tease him no more than eight times per visit, when she would usually tease him nonstop.

You didn’t leave him for the entire week he needed to recover, unless it was for a mission (Oyakata-sama was very kind in giving you lighter, and easier missions—easy for you, hard for lower ranked slayers)

That night, you definitely stayed in his room (one of the pillars was kind enough to take over your patrol. it was Mitsuri), and slept right by his side. 

As you slept, he watches the careful rise and fall of your chest. 

You looked so peaceful that he starts daydreaming about what could be—a future with you.

His near death experience made him realize that if he didn’t marry you, it would be one of the greatest mistakes of his life.

You taught him to live life to its fullest, to live without regrets

And he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t get to call you his wife, even if it was just for a day.

The demons have taken so much from him already—his sister, his best friend

They’ve already taken too much

He’s not going to let the demons take away any more of his happiness

SO YES

This was the moment he finally decided to ask you to be his wife.

took him long enough

Giyuu knew that he wasn’t the best at communication

And he was really worried about you not wanting to marry him anymore. It’s been a while since that conversation after all

He wanted things to be as clear as spring water before even popping the question

So he decides to ask you.

He brings you out to the engawa and sits there with you, enjoying the night breeze and the view

You’d look very pretty under the moonlight and aaaaa

He wonders how he ever managed to control himself from asking you to marry him earlier 

Because right now

Giyuu has half the mind to just beg you to marry him 

He brings it up bluntly carefully,

“...How do you feel about marrying me?”

He brought it up bluntly.

You’re used to it though (you didn’t even bat an eyelash—what a champ), so you take it in stride.

“What I said before still stands, sweetheart. I would love nothing more than to be your wife, but if you’re not ready—“

“I am.”

Your neck almost snaps with how fast your head turns to look at Giyuu. He wasn’t far, just a few inches of space between your bodies, but you could feel his comforting warmth, and could clearly see his expression despite it being night.

“Are you serious?” You knew he was—Giyuu never was the type to joke—but you couldn’t help but ask. You knew he loved you, you knew he wanted to be with you for as long as possible, but him asking to marry you? Both of you talked about this, and you respected what he wanted and his reasons behind it, so whatever this was? It all felt too good to be true that you wanted to pinch yourself.

“Yes.” Giyuu carefully takes your hands and uses his thumb to trace soothing circles onto the skin of your palm. “If you’re fine with someone like me...” He places his forehead on top of yours and your heart just...picks up the pace. You’re sure he could hear how fast it was beating, while you’re made aware of the fact that your eyes were starting to get teary because everything looked so blurry. 

“Marry me, (F/N)?”

Him wanting to know if you still wanted a marriage with him, turned into an actual proposal

But neither of you minded

It felt perfect

You burst into a loud, giddy laugh, the happy smile on your lips wide enough to reach your ears. The tears start spilling over as you nod your head vigorously, repeating the word “Yes!” like it was the only word you could say.

Giyuu’s mouth curls into the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen on him, and continues to grow each time you ‘yes’. He puts the ring on your finger and you're struck by how pretty it is, feeling a sense of rightness wash over you. He feels it too as both of you take a moment to look at how perfect the fit is, before you look back up at him. 

By the gods, he looked so handsome with that smile on his face, you couldn’t take it. You bring your hands to cup his face, and kiss him for all you were worth. HIs hands wrap around your waist, and you grip the nape of his neck, savoring the feeling of his comforting warmth pressed against you. As both of you pressed your lips against each other, neither of you could stop smiling—you were both so happy.

“You’ll marry me?”

“I’ll marry you right now, if it was possible.”

“You really want to marry me?”

“I always did. I feel stupid for making you wait so long.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart, I understand why.”

He pulls away a little, pouting. “But I could’ve been calling you my wife earlier.” 

“And I could’ve been calling you my husband earlier,” You tease “but here we are.”

“...Maybe we can find a priest right now.”

You laugh and smack his shoulder. “We waited a few years, I’m sure we can wait for a few months.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment.

“Giyuu?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” You really do.

He smiles softly, taking your left hand and kissing the back of your hand. “I love you too.” He really does.

For better or for worse

During the next Pillar meeting, everyone definitely notices your ring

a/n: i would like to marry this man please and thank you (′ꈍωꈍ‵)💖

I have another request in the works, but if you liked this headcanon, maybe you’d like to see a continuation! I’ve got some ideas stocked up for “how they met”, “how they got married”, or maybe “how the other pillars react to your engagement”... anyways feel free to drop a request!

apologies in advance if it takes me another month 😔

[viscountessevie]

(Villainisation anon here)

[Ohh you have such an efficient way of tagging and maintaining different discussions! I am very much involved in another fandom and receive lots of asks about discourse but I somehow always manage to make a mess of tags, lol]

As for the name, I think I’ll go with 📖 anon or whatever tag you want to use. I am assuming you get a lot of anons regarding discourse so I don’t want to club myself with them.

I can totally understand your frustration regarding the lack of knowledge the general audience may have about The Sharmas. It’s frustrating when you know so much about something but cannot let it all out, especially to strangers on the internet. I have been in similar situations, and I am sorry if my ask ever made you feel that way.

I have definitely seen the word racist be thrown around quite carelessly with unclear implications, with the most recent instance being yesterday. I won’t go into the details of what was said, because maybe the person is your mutual and I don’t wish to involve you in any drama. (You may have, perhaps already seen something about it on your dash). But the words were hurtful and they invalidated my experience as a desi person watching the show. I know people can be quite vitriolic on both sides of the discourse, and it’s sad. But that’s the truth of fandom spaces - discourse is inevitable and I don’t have any ideas on what to do about it, lol.

Anyway, I hope you have a lovely day/night (if you live in India, it must be past midnight for you! It’s dinnertime for me, so I must dash. But thank you for such a healthy and respectful discussion).

Here are Bookie 📖 Anon's previous asks!

Hello again 📖 Anon - I think I shall call you Bookie for short ahahha if you're okay with that! While Villianisation/Villain Anon sounds cool af I didn't want to make you sound like a hater lol. So I dub thee Bookie 📖 Anon!

Anyways thank you for the compliment, it means a lot. Also there's no right or wrong way to tag or run a discourse blog so don't worry about yours - do what feels right for you!

Funny thing is, I never use to tag things AT ALL before I start running this blog. Hell I wouldn't even link previous posts but then I started getting more related asks and it seemed logical to give context. The Emojis started recently though and they are so fun! I think only Jett and Ring Anon have come back to my asks a few times lol. I think its cool to know where they all stand on different topics instead of me assuming every anon is a different person because Uhhh that's like over 140 (I think that's how many asks I've answered since March?) people who have been talking to me and that's a daunting thought oop.

That was a fun tangent but let's get into the meat of this post!

Thank you for being so understanding, Bookie! But I'll survive and stick to my friends' fics for wholesome Sharmas ahahah. And oh, if I could I would scream about the Book Sharmas all day but I'm not that unhinged lmao. Instead I will passive aggressively hype them and their book scenes up (I did it here also wanna make some edits with the book scene quotes tacked onto S2's scenes at some point) Also want to reassure you that you did not make me feel that way at all! It was nice to have people who like flawed Sharmas' fics to be civil and open to discussion - it was a good change from the usual drama on my dash ahahah.

That being said ohmygod Bookie, spill the tea and call them out!! Who was that?? I saw another post vagueposting Mimi and I but they weren't being 'racist', just fucking rude.

But the words were hurtful and they invalidated my experience as a desi person watching the show. I know people can be quite vitriolic on both sides of the discourse, and it’s sad. But that’s the truth of fandom spaces - discourse is inevitable and I don’t have any ideas on what to do about it, lol.

Tell me about it, the invalidation in this fandom is INSANE sometimes, I mean I'll admit sometimes I am a little guilty of it but its in the name of invalidating bigots who should be drowned out because we do not need this energy here. I do hope you're feeling better now and the words didn't get to you <3 I know I said spill the tea but if you don't want to give yourself away and get involved in the drama, I totally understand! That being said if you do want to vent about that situation, my DMs and off anon asks (I can respond to you privately!) are always open if you need them.

Take care Bookie, and yes it was ard 1am (I'm in Asia, GMT+8 btw) when I posted your second ask and fell asleep soon after ahhaha. Hope you had a good dinner and can't wait to hear from you in the future!!

[mandoalorian]

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 11

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - references to verbal abuse and a neglectful mother.

Author’s note: After an accidental one month hiatus, I’m back! I’m nervous about posting this because I haven’t updated December Magic since I saw WW84. As you may have noticed, I have rebranded this fic and the name is now called ‘Sugar and Spice’! There is a slight time jump in this chapter, and it’s just a short one as I ween back into it, but I realised I was struggling so much continuing this fic after seeing WW84 because it just didn’t feel like the Max Lord we ended up with was anything like the Max Lord in this fic. This chapter is my attempt to make amends and draw a link between Sugar and Spice and WW84. 

While I’m here I want to give a shout out to my new on-going Max Lord series ‘I Believe In Love’, which you can read here. I Believe In Love is like my baby and I am so so proud of it thus far.  Anyways, enjoy chapter 11 of December Magic!

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER ELEVEN - NEXT

He hadn’t come home for Christmas. He hadn’t come home for two months. It was fine at first. He called you as soon as he reached London, just like he promised. He expressed to you how busy he was with work commitments and how difficult it was for him to cope with the timezones. The distance between the UK and USA was devastating. Your hour long phone calls gradually became more spread out and only lasted a few minutes, and honestly? It broke your heart. There you were; living in Lord Manor, and Maxwell had kept his word: “you want for nothing”. You had everything. His weighty black AMEX card, a house staff such as a butler and a chef and your own personal driver to take you wherever you wished to go. Any material possessions you wished for… they were yours. You weren’t even working for the privilege or the money. Max was far away and yet, he made sure you still had a home and a life, and he made sure that you were safe.

But there was still an extreme void in your heart. You were missing Maxwell. You’d try calling him but there was always a dead line. Not even Raquel would answer. You felt like you were drifting apart and your whole body ached with dread as you wondered if Max had forgotten about you. You’d kept in contact with Maxwell’s three assistants at Black Gold and they had no information on the work commitments that Max was supposedly seeing too. The romance you had shared during December may have been a whirlwind, but you knew him better than any other person on the planet and you felt like he was deliberately avoiding you.

There was something not right.

***

“Kitty!” Maxwell cried, his cheeks burning red and his eyes flicking with bewilderment as the child was thrust into his arms. A ghost from his past. Kitty was an ex lover of Maxwell’s, and honestly one of many. He hadn’t thought about her in years.

“I’ve brought him up for the past six years, he’s your problem now!” Kitty spat, an evil smirk crossing her lips. “I see you on the television with all your fame and fortune, if you don’t want him then the least you can do is pay a nanny to watch him. I have nothing Max. A shitty little apartment in the east of London. I’m working for a modelling internship but it’s hard to find luck when I’ve got a six year old kid dragging my heels behind.”

“Dragging your heels?” Maxwell repeated, furiosity burning his lungs. “He’s your son for Christ sake! How can you say that? Right in front of him!” 

Maxwell turned back to the child who was standing as still as ever in the centre of the hotel room, nervously looking at his feet. Everytime Kitty raised her voice, the boy winced, and it crushed Max. This situation was all too familiar to him. 

“He’s your son too!” Kitty glared, her face just as cold as her heart. “I want nothing to do with him. Goodbye.” Kitty said, her voice venomous, before leaving the hotel room and slamming the door behind her.

Maxwell’s knees felt weak and wobbly and he stumbled to his bed, sinking down with an exasperated sigh. Max’s hands cradled his own face and he blinked away unshed tears before sitting back up and looking at the six year old boy. The boy was silent, and his dark eyes matched the sadness of his father’s. How could this have happened?

Maxwell Lord had a son.

Max didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say? He remembered doing work in London back in 1977; it was the start of his big break, and his bachelor persona hadn’t changed much since then. When Kitty found out Maxwell was back in London, she used it as her one final chance to track him down. Turns out, a big name CEO such as Max Lord was hard to get a hold of, especially when he lived on the other side of the world. Kitty never had pure intentions. Of course the pregnancy was unplanned and the sad reality was, Alistair was unwanted by his mother. Kitty was an aspiring model, fueled by ambition and goal, much like Maxwell. She didn’t have a single maternal instinct in her. Only there was a significant difference between Alistair’s parents. Whilst Kitty cared so little about her son, Maxwell knew that from this day forward, Alistair would be his top priority. He would never let his job intervene with his son. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes his own parents did.

Maxwell never thought about children, or considered bringing any into the world. He told himself he’d never want to be a father. He had such a terrible upbringing himself and his mother was wicked, he’d be too afraid. He’d never want to hurt or disappoint a potential child of his the way his own parents had hurt and disappointed him. But when he looked into his son’s eyes he felt nothing but determination. He’d been an absent father and that was not okay. Max just wished he’d known about his son before now. But it’s not like he could turn back time. Max knew he had to make amends and he knew he had to do it now.

Maxwell opened his arms and held Alistair’s hands, bringing him close and holding him tight against his chest. “My son,” he whispered, trying to refrain from crying. “I love you so much. I know you don’t know me, but you will, and I will spend the rest of my life making you proud. You are my everything.”

“You saved me daddy,” Alistair whimpered, tears spilling and dampening his father’s pinstripe shirt. “Thank you.”

***

You waited every day for Maxwell to return, but you never expected him. You were laying on the living room sofa, a blanket wrapped around you, half asleep as the muse from the television drowned out your thoughts. When you heard the lock on the front door click open, you thought you were dreaming. There was no way. No way. Footsteps. Hell, there was more chance of an intruder than it was Max. You rubbed your eyes and cautiously rose to your feet.

Your heart sank when he entered the room. It was him. He was home. Tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t hide the excited grin that painted your lips. “Oh my god Max!” you squealed, running up to him. He looked tired, but he was smiling too. You were inclined to run into his arms, but your focus on his face left you without realizing the small sleeping child he was carrying in his arms.

You blinked in confusion, your gaze flicking between Maxwell and the boy. “This is Alistair, my son.” Maxwell informed you, his voice hoarse and low. At the mention of his name Alistair stirred in his sleep and Maxwell immediately, on instinct, shushed him. 

“You-what?” You were speechless. You knew something was wrong the second Max had distanced himself. The second the phone calls had stopped and he hadn’t come home. You knew something was wrong when his assistants said his work schedule was clear. But never in a million years did you expect your sugar daddy to come home with a son.

“I didn’t know,” Max whispered in avoidance to wake up Alistair. “It’s a long story but I promise I’ll tell you everything. I’m sorry I didn’t come home for Christmas like I promised. I’m so sorry baby. I’ll make up for it.”

You couldn’t even gather words. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and contemplated everything. You sighed. You believed Max - how could you not? Of course, you were very interested in learning all about his secret son but you supposed that didn’t matter too much right now. All that mattered is that Max was home, and safe. You smiled and rested your hand on Alistair’s forehead, brushing his straight black hair out of his face. Alistair smiled sleepily under your touch. Max’s cheeks grew warm with admiration as you comforted his son. It meant a lot to him that you took a liking to Alistair and that you accepted the fact Alistair was in his life now, and nothing would change that.

After all, Max Lord was still hopelessly devoted and in love with you.

“Come on,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to cup Maxwell’s face. You brushed your thumb over the height of his cheekbone and Max found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch. “Let’s take him to bed and go to bed ourselves. We clearly have a lot to catch up on.”

Max nodded his head in affirmation and you followed him upstairs. He took Alistair to a guest bedroom and gently tucked him under the blankets, pressing a caring kiss into his son’s forehead before turning back to you. As you watched his gentle actions, it was like you were witnessing a whole new side to Maxwell. And it was beautiful.

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[inevitably-johnlocked]

People complaining about 'queer baiting' when they ought to be more concerned about the amount of fetishisation that occurs when people ship two men lol

Hey Nonny,

I’m gonna assume you’re not trying to be a dick, and are coming from a good place, though you taking the time out to put this ask in a weird serif font is leaving me wondering if you’re trying to stand on a soapbox, but I’m going to ignore that for now, and I ask anyone replying to this post to please also grant that same respect. I only wish to educate, learn, and interact, after all. 

I get what you’re trying to say re: queerbaiting, I really do. And fetishization is a problem, I agree. 

Let’s tackle the queerbaiting first.

Let it be known to you that a large majority of the people calling “queerbaiting” are queer people and academics. I know the false stigma that “fandom is full of stupid little girls” still exists and is something that, quite frankly, this ask is implying and therefore helping to perpetuate. It’s not. Honestly, with this take you have here, you’re disregarding and invalidating the feelings of millions of other queer people who genuinely feel when something is queerbaiting because it’s something they have experienced over and over and OVER again and media just “LOL OOPS SORRY WON’T DO IT AGAIN”. 

Disney is a perfect example of this. How many “first LGBT characters” has Disney had now? At least one a year for the past decade.

Listen, the people who initially called it out years ago for Sherlock were older folks who have lived decades of media constantly teasing gay relationships and then not following through with it at the end... literally “baiting” queer people to watch their shows because more people = more money.

Anyway, Gattiss confirmed he used homoerotic subtext to bait people, so I don’t know what else to say on this matter. That link also has some additional articles and sources that came out regarding the queerbaiting aspect of Sherlock, and they’re all good reads, so I do recommend checking them out.

Some other interesting reads, if only so you can gain some empathy for the others who DO see it as queerbaiting:

Gender and Queer Fan Labour on Tumblr: The Case of BBC’s Sherlock (Webarchive link, so give it a few to load)

The Elephant in the Room: Authorship, Queerbaiting and Sherlock

Queerbaiting in Sherlock 

PODCAST: Queerbaiting in Sherlock

From Queer Reading to Queerbaiting - DiVA Portal

And as I’ve mentioned in past posts, I personally believe Sherlock IS queerrbaiting WITHOUT a confirmation in S5. They had the chance to stop it in S3, and instead they ramped it up. And yes, if you only watch Sherlock and omit S3 and TAB completely, I can see the queerbaiting argument null and void. But instead they made the episode that John was supposed to be getting married the gayest episode in the whole series, next to TAB. So I dunno, my friend.

Now, I shall discuss the very thin line of fetishization vs shipping.

I am not a professional AND I am a fairly recently-realized member of the LGBT community, so I don’t feel it’s my place to tell you what’s what. 

There’s a really interesting Tumblr post by LGBT+ Weekly about this very thing that I think offers a “both sides” approach: Shipping and queer fetishization. And this interesting and on-point post here: About Fandom, Slash, and Fetishizing Gay Men.

From here, I can only offer my opinion, not fact, and I am open to being educated. 

Yes, absolutely some people fetishize LGBT relationships. I’m NOT going to say there aren’t. But a majority of people ship ANY ship because it helps them understand themselves. It’s just that simple, and to tell someone that them shipping characters is bad / no good / fetishization can be harmful to them and make them fear “being gay”. Shipping characters is a way of disconnecting themselves from, well, themselves, and it’s a “safe place” to “come out” or discover themselves.

To me, you’re breaking down fetishization as “I like reading about two people fucking” and nothing beyond that, and not taking into account that many people like a pairing because of chemistry, or because someone sees themselves in a character and are exploring their own sexuality through it. If that’s the case, then I guess all M/F ships are are fetishizations? Why is it only M/M that people decry “fetishization”, when F/F is apparently not (clarification: it totally can also be)? So, is me liking Johnlock any different than my Zutara ship? Why? 

Plus, the reason so many people ship M/M ships is because there’s just SO MANY MALE CHARACTERS ON ANY GIVEN SHOW. 

I get what you’re trying to say, Nonny, I really do. And I know the definition of fetish. But AGAIN, these are characters, not real people, and you’re disregarding other aspects of shipping. Not everyone reads smut to get off. And even if they did, why is that so bad for some people? Personally, I read it because I enjoy reading stories about my favourite characters enjoying being together. I enjoy the dynamic, the possibilities, the chemistry and the love. That it’s never too late to find your person. That two broken souls can help heal each other.

Anyway, TL;DR of all this is: 

YOUR experience is NOT someone else’s experience. 

You didn’t see Sherlock as queerbaiting? Fine, but please understand there’s a reason so many other people DO and it’s not just fandom saying it. The general audience also has said it’s queerbaiting.

You see shipping as fetishization? Okay, and that’s fine. Your definition of fetishization means fictional people having sex, I guess. Maybe I’m just genuinely naïve, but... isn’t that kind of... TERF-y or homophobic? I mean... many people use same-sex shipping and assorted headcanons to help them understand themselves and their sexuality. And why is M/F shipping NOT fetishization, given the broad definition you’re implying by your ask? And I don’t want to get too deep into asexuality, but read up on aegosexuality. Are you then saying aces are fetishists too? Seems like aces can’t enjoy anything, I guess.

They’re fictional characters. Not real people.

Look, I’m stupid and naïve, I get that. And if I have the wrong take here, I’m genuinely interested in hearing your respectful thoughts, along with other people’s. Just, please respect and understand that everyone is not YOU. It’s rather selfish to think that your experiences are everyone else’s, if I’m being honest.

I’m not asking for you to “see my side of things”, just to have a bit of empathy, is all. It can go a long way in a world where just being who you are can get you killed. Fandom and shipping is an escape for a lot of people, because reality is a cruel son of a bitch.

All this said, Nonny, I just want you to be safe and healthy. If discussions of shipping and queerbaiting bother you, please black list the tags, get out of fandom, and please take care of yourself.

[washymylifeaway]

Haikyuu Angst fanfic recs

EDIT: I added in the ships for each fic LOL, prolly should’ve done it like that from the beginning smh my bad :’)))))

EDIT 2: I made a pt 2 linked HERE

No one asked me to do this, but I’m providing it anyway because we all need a little angst in our lives. Right? Anyway, this entire thing is going to be something you need to read warnings, tags, and summaries in advanced because everything here will be angst. Anyhoo, in no particular order, here comes the sadness... And also don’t come at me for putting fics I’ve recommended in the past,,,, it’s an angst post I have to put all of them.

WARNING: Almost all of these fics deal with either some sort of death, trauma, or mental illness so please I BEG OF YOU to proceed with caution. Also in NO way am I romanticizing any of these things, these fics recs are merely pieces I thought were written extremely well, and that portray major events from multiple perspectives skillfully. If you are struggling, please contact a hotline and get help, you are never in this alone!

National Suicide Hotline: 800-273-8255

boiled frogs by reginagalaxia (E) 91.5k /MatsuHana/ is it possible to hate a character this much? I never realized how much hate/rage I had in me. Really. Like. Imma boutta fight this MF LIKE SQUARE UP. The way I tried to manifest a fake characters death like,,,, Anyway. If my RAGE doesn’t explain how good of a freakin writer they are, then idk what will. (PLEASE READ THE TAGS, THERE ARE SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!)

In Another Life by LittleLuxray (T) 23k /BokuAka/ it’s a classic, what can I say? You into some BokuAka angst? Here’s the fic. Go right ahead. Don’t be shy :’)

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony (T) 30.9k /KuroKen/ again, a classic. We do love a good soulmate AU tho :)))))))

^^ I didn’t write much here cause I wrote my general thoughts on a different post (linked here) so yea it’s not that I don’t like the fic, it’s just that I didn’t want to be more redundant than I already am LOL.

Oikawa's Last Wish/es by DanaiaCake (G) 5.1k /IwaOi/ this one, man it’s short but painful LOL. Proof that angst doesn’t have to be long to completely break you ahhahah. It actually has a sequel (which is less angsty), but yea if you like finish this fic and are like broken, read it for some.... glue?

The Sky and Guilt Are the Only Feelings I Have Left by oopsthisisqueertoo (NR) 267.7k /BokuAkaKuroo/ ngl I picked it up as a rec from someone else after misreading that it was THIS long haha. But like I kept reading, and the suspense omg. It HAS a happy ending, so if you’re reading it and you start to feel empty, push through (tho take breaks) and finish because it DOES end HAPPY. (PLEASE READ THE TAGS, THERE ARE SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!)

Made to be Broken by todxrxki (T) 8.1k /KuroKen/ this one focuses more on the after than the build up, and it made me so sad (as it should cause this is literally an angst fic rec post smh @ myself). I usually don’t cry too much but this one made the waterworks turn ON. Sighhhhhhhhhhh. Bless Akaashi.

Even Though it All Went Wrong by plumtrees (T) 9.2k /MatsuHana/ THIS IS THE REASON THIS POST CAME TO BE. I love this fic with all my heart (or what’s left of it). Like LOVE as in, this fic really broke me beyond just breaking me. Like. When Oikawa says what he says to Mattsun after the thing (you’re sorry __ _____ __ ____) and the Iwa right after (we know __’__ ___ ______ to make you ____ __ ____) (if you’re wondering wtf I’m putting here, just ctrl F you’re sorry and you’ll see), you cannot believe how hard that hit. GOD. (I am okay if you’re wondering :’)) This is my #1 favorite angst fic of all time and if you are okay mentally and have read the tags and warnings and are fine with them, then please read it. (PLEASE READ THE TAGS, THERE ARE SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!)

Better For Us Both by abrandnewheart (M) 15.7k /SakuAtsu/ THE MUG FIC. There was a sequel and when I saw that it took me another week to read it cause I was like,,, am I ready to have my heart break again? No LOL. But the sequel is actually not as angst, so if you want like a semi-broken whatever, just read the sequel LOL. It’s so sad and it made me physically hurt every time someone even mentioned mugs afterwards (LOL why am I so dramatic but it’s the truth :///). Go ahead and hurt with me.

Crumbling Foundations by Captain_Hughes_ZU, ToshiChan (T) 106.3k /MULTI/ I was debating whether or not to put this fic cause it actually doesn’t even have the angst tag (which I personally think it should). Honestly, it’s more a trauma fic than an angst fic idk I just wanted to put it somewhere because it’s written super well and although it was technically a ‘happy ending’ the interviews after prove else. Despite only being rated T, it’s got some intense TW so (PLEASE READ THE TAGS, THERE ARE SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!)

arbitrary nature of thought. by wadingpool (NR) 5.6k /SunaOsa/ this....... ah... ahh.... The pain...... I really love the SunaAtsu friendship agenda. The ending was happy (I keep doing this LOL) but the build up to the break,,,,, AHHHH. Yea the ending was really heartwarming....... BUT THE BEGINNING. Yea it really jumbled me up..... JFLJDSFLKJHDLFHS

How To Be A Kick-Ass Brother: A Guide by Miya Atsumu by Egosdelirium (E) 25k /SakuAtsu + SunaOsa/ what personal vendetta do I have against Osamu? Nothing, literally nothing he just happens to always suffer in the fics I choose oops. This fic is one I really like, and it portrays the close outsider’s perspective on a horrific event really well. I was iffy on putting this in because it’s not really the angst type I was going for (more death less trauma?) but I really liked this fic, and while I was making my end note, I kept thinking about it so yea. Atsumu best boy. (PLEASE READ THE TAGS, THERE ARE SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!)

You might be thinking, done already? Wellllllll there were a lot of fics where I decided against putting them on (cause I felt like it didn’t really match what I wanted to be recommending but idk what the theme was LOL oops but yea I would look at a fic and think well it is angst but not the right TYPE of angst y’know?) and I really hate reading angst (there’s a lot of days where I shouldn’t cause my mental health said no thanks LOL). Also I wanted like FULL angst fics, but most of them have like happy endings (which made some of these iffy and is good but also it wasn’t what I wanted to put :////) So yes, I may add to this post (we’ll see) but like it’ll depend on whether I can convince myself that reading angst at 4 am is a good idea LOL. (pls recommend me some too!)