#because he's given up so much of himself in service of 'helping' that he can't understanding refusing that

[kurokawaia]

❛ Sasuke Head Canons ❜

Uchiha Sasuke X Fem!Reader

| SFW + NSFW |

WC; 800 + | !MDNI! | TW/CW; FAB, teasing, cervix fucking, praise, degredation, size kink, the uchiha breeding kink

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯; @lovelyandproblematic - your account is so so pretty 😭💜🫶🏻 may I humbly request: Sasuke head canons? 💐 can be sfw or nsfw lol

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

SFW

I feel like Sasuke is always cold- Like every time you two touch each other you involuntarily shiver causing Sasuke's face to contort in worry if he's done something wrong and he never fails to ask you every time if you are okay.

He doesn't admit it but he loves touching you, not in a sexual way (as much as he loves to), loves to hold you and does that childish thing of holding the hem of your shirt.

Loves to randomly kiss you, when your cooking, cleaning, or doing whatever. Sasuke hands would cup the back of your neck and angle your head up just so he can give you a soft press to his lips to yours. He loves to see your cheeks flush pink at the unexpected actions and proceeds to give you another just to make you even more flustered.

He loves to mention that you are his girlfriend/wife whenever talking to a stranger. "Me and my girlfriend/wife have to go now." Sasuke just loves being territorial but he just doesn't know it. He gets jealous easily so that's why he does it lmao.

Sasuke isn't one to say 'I love you' that often because he believes that actions speaks louder than words. He is more of an acts of service man for the both of you. Sasuke gets so nervous inside when you say you love him because he is scared that even after saying you love him you will still leave, the poor baby... 😕😭

He is so scared to fuck something up, he doesn't admit it to any one (apart from Naruto) if he's doing things right because he loves you too much.

NSFW

I personally think that Sasuke wouldn't even know what aftercare is until you tell him about it. His reaction would be like, "That's a thing?" Don't think that Sasuke would do much for aftercare, but I know that he would hold you close to him as you are family to him, girlfriend or wife.

Either loves to fuck you in missionary or doggy, no in between. He wants to see your face contort in pleasure as he pounds your pretty pussy as deep as he can. Sasuke loves to watch your beautiful face mold into the most fucked out expressions.

But with doggy now... he is either going to tease you, going slow as he can, dragging his thick length in and out of your gummy walls, inciting needy whines from you. Or, Sasuke is going to be pounding into you, so fast and deep you can't even think. He gets off seeing you all helpless in front of him, the pretty arch of your back as your dainty hands grip at the sheets, your plushy breasts pressed hard against the mattress--

When you and Sasuke are having more of an intimate moment for sex, he holds you hand with his by your side, his tongue slowly exploring your mouth, inciting small whimpers from you. That just gets the man off.

Let's be so for real guys, how can Sasuke not be into fulling you flush with his cum. He loves thinking about breeding your tight cunt. Wanting to see your stomach full of his children, thinking about having to help you all the time because you can't do any small mundane tasks anymore.

Sasuke prefers to be given head rather than give it himself. Now, that doesn't mean he doesn't absolutely love eating out your soaked cunt but he just rather your tight mouth try to fit his length without gagging.

Sasuke is a busy and tired man most of the time, so having his pretty girl be at his disposal for him makes him go crazy. Loves coming down your throat and making you open your plump lips to make sure that you swallowed all his seed. The other alternative is coming over your chest, he just loves squeezing them after, cfi.

Sasuke isn't a loud moaner but he deeply groans into your skin or mouth as he is either eating you out, getting head or thrusting into your folds. He occasionally lets out moans but it's only when he's coming :( He knows how much you love hearing him moan and that makes the poor man embarrassed.

I don't think Sasuke would crave for sex all the time but he definitely won't disagree to having some special time with you if you asked. He'd tease you about it, "You needy?" and then proceed to give you the time of your life. Sasuke prefers to be in more classic setting when having sex, like a bedroom but he isn't opposed to having sex when the both of you are out on missions.

He definitely doesn't like to spit on you, he values your entire existence and doesn't want you to feel any less then how you want to feel. Sasuke might call you slut or a bitch during sex but he knows you're okay with that.

Sasuke can and will go all night long, his stamina is through the roof, especially if you egg him on saying he can cum inside your sticky walls, then how can he not go all night?

Sasuke is a strong defined man, in the body of course. Defined abs and a big strong body. He is over six foot so what's in his pants doesn't disappoint.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

thank you for requesting bby 🫶

[forsaire]

A MacTavish Christmas

When Soap can't make it home for Christmas, Ghost plans a surprise and brings Christmas to him. (~2k)

It's me @emmster! 🤭🤭

Here is your secret santa gift! I hope you enjoy how utterly, disgustingly sweet it is 💚💖

Ao3 link

---

Soap had always made it home for Christmas, it was something he spoke about with warm pride. No matter where he was or how late a flight he had to take or when the last time he slept was, he was always there for Christmas morning. He was always there in his mum’s arms who would pepper him with kisses until he had to pry her arms off him, always handing out messily wrapped gifts with newspaper and anything he could find last minute to his siblings, always letting his nieces and nephews climb all over him in their excitement to have Uncle John’s attention.

He'd been especially excited the week leading up to it, his energy both infectious and exhausting. Ghost often found himself listening in content silence as Soap spoke about his fond memories of the traditions the MacTavish family had been doing for years.

On Christmas day, they hid the baby Jesus figurine somewhere in the house for the kiddos to find and whoever did got to return him to the manger, finishing the nativity scene. They always had these amazingly fresh croissant rolls to eat with dinner that everyone adored, and which one year almost caused World War III when they were accidentally forgotten. Soap’s mum had decided that decorating the Christmas tree would remain a family affair. After all the kids moved out, she waited until everyone came back together so they could put the ornaments on the tree together just like they always used to do as kids, reminiscing at the memories and laughing at the poorly decorated ones.

Ghost enjoyed listening to Soap ramble on, sharing his own family with Ghost even if just in colourful stories. Ghost didn’t have his own, not anymore, so he let Soap paint the picture for him. Soap smiled and Ghost savoured the way his eyes crinkled as they lit up.  

But that smile was stolen.

It was at the end of a debrief, Price giving the men a heads up about an urgent meeting coming up – illegal arms trading hands in preparation for an attack on one of the embassies halfway across the world. But the mission had landed in their lap and it was up to them to stake it out and prevent the meeting from happening.

“We leave at the crack of dawn,” Price finished saying. “0500 hours. Five days from now.”

Five days.

Ghost could see Soap’s face fall as the numbers aligned in his head.

Christmas day.

Soap had gotten lucky all these years, he knew he had. He had leave fall over the Christmas break, or he’d been able to make arrangements with other soldiers, or when he joined the 141 Price had given them the time off, or the world seemed to slow down for a couple days and they simply weren’t needed.

But not this time.

Soap’s disappointed eyes dropped, his lips downturned into a faint frown. He didn’t say anything, there wasn’t anything to say. Nothing would matter whether it came from Soap, or Ghost, or Gaz, or anyone else.

They had a job to do. Service above self.

And Ghost had to watch that heartbroken face all the way back to their room.  

For as much good as Soap put into the world, he deserved better. They saw the worst of the world 364 days a year, and still Soap was able to remain optimistic, warm-hearted, kind.

He deserved better.

So that night, Ghost found himself in Price’s office, a suggestion falling from his lips that he needed some help with organizing. And with a nod and a grunt – the greatest level of acceptance he was ever going to get out of Price – he received a promise that Price would help.

And the days went by, that subtle spark that was always inside Soap continuing to remain dim, his disappointment hurting Ghost because he knew he couldn’t do anything to fix it. As Christmas day slowly approached, Ghost began to worry a bit more that his plan wouldn’t come in on time.

But then, Christmas Eve, 11:30pm.

A knock on the door jolted both of their heads up from where they sat on their separate beds, Soap looking up from his drawing and Ghost looking up from his book.

“MacTavish,” a muffled voice called out from behind the door. “You have a package.”

Furrowed brows glanced over at Ghost in surprise before flicking back to the door. He put his notebook down and walked over to it, Ghost following a few steps behind. When he opened the door, his eyes were pulled downwards.

Sitting in front of them was a cardboard box, 2 feet long, 1 foot wide and tall. It was hastily wrapped with packing tape on both ends, looking as though it had just come from a warehouse. On top of that box was another smaller one, half the size, this one decorated in striped Christmas wrapping paper.

Incredulous eyes glanced at Ghost again to try and find an answer. Ghost simply gestured towards the packages.

Soap pulled the boxes inside and closed the door.

He took out his pocketknife and expertly slid the blade across the tape to break the seal. He flipped open the top and reached into the dark box.

The branches flopped open as he pulled it from the box, expanding as if taking a breath. Faint shock rippled across Soap’s face as he glanced down at what he was holding.

A small Christmas tree only two feet tall, the synthetic pine needles dense, and a bright red base attached to the bottom.

“Uhh…” Soap breathed out as he put the tree on the table. He then turned his attention to the smaller wrapped box.

He carefully tore the wrapping paper off to reveal a standard sized postal box. Soap untucked the tab and opened up the lid. On the very top was a handwritten note, the bright green crinkle cut packing paper surrounding it in all directions.

Soap picked up the note.

“This…” he said quietly, “this is my Ma’s writing…”

He began to read the note out loud.

Hi love,

Ma here, hoping you have a Merry Christmas. We were all looking forward to seeing you, the kids especially. I know you can’t be with us this year and I know how disappointed you were, but we all understand that your job means you have more people that rely on you than just us. And that’s okay.

We’ll miss you dearly, but I hope wherever you are, you can still have a MacTavish Christmas. On Christmas morning, we will decorate the tree in your absence and I hope you get to do the same too.

Come visit when you can. I’ll be waiting to spoil you rotten with my cooking. I love you, mo chridhe.

“P.S., thank Simon for the idea-”

Soap whipped his head up to look at Ghost, his eyes quickly then glancing into the box which was stacked with ornaments. His mouth dropped open a sliver.

“These…” he said incredulously, picking one up, “these are mine. From back home. These are some of the one’s my Ma has. You…”

Soap’s eyes softened as he glanced at Ghost.

Ghost’s smile was warm but reserved. He picked up one of the ornaments, an old looking reindeer made from construction paper, googly eyes, and pipe cleaners.

“You said it was tradition that the MacTavish’s decorate their tree on Christmas day,” he replied tenderly, hanging the reindeer onto one of the branches. “I wanted you to still be a part of it this year. I know it’s technically Christmas Eve, but…”

Soap’s expression had melted into grateful disbelief, touched beyond belief at Ghost’s words. His eyes shimmered as he stared up at Ghost softly.

“Now c’mon,” Ghost said quietly. “Let me see what embarrassing family ornaments you have in here.”

Soap continued looking at Ghost for a few more moments, the weight of all his attention like a warm blanket wrapped around Ghost’s shoulders. Then, he smiled, Ghost’s life being ignited with that spark yet again.

Soap reached into the box and pulled another ornament out, smiling down at it sentimentally before slipping the ribbon around one of the branches to hang it on the tree. They slowly decorated the tree, Ghost barely paying attention to what the ornaments were. No, he was focused on the way Soap’s eyes lit up upon recognizing them, sometimes laughing, sometimes crinkling his eyes happily, something cringing.

“This one,” Soap said, holding up a small picture in a golden-rimmed frame with a young boy inside. He had a round face, crooked teeth, and the same familiar blue eyes. “This one was made in after school daycare. But as a kid I didn’t realize my Ma gave them the photo herself. But she still acted so shocked and thrilled to receive it from wee John.”

“Oh, and this one!” Soap held up a snowman wearing a t-shirt with the Greek flag on it.  “I got this one on a family trip to Greece.”

Soap’s eyes suddenly faltered in reminiscence. He picked up a ceramic dog, the golden retriever peeking its head out of a wreath, the name Baxter on top with the year 2015 on its collar. “This was my childhood dog. He was the best…”

Soap then widened his eyes as he reached into the box again. He pulled out a giraffe wearing a Santa hat made up of a bunch of thin, cylindrical beads that stood on top of a blue base.

“Ghost,” Soap said seriously, holding it out in between them. “I need you to shoot this giraffe.”

Ghost’s air pistol immediately became unsheathed and he levelled it at the giraffe, the muzzle hovering just a few inches away.

“Goodbye old friend…” Ghost lamented before pulling the trigger. His hand jolted up slightly at the recoil as the bullet was fired.

Soap pressed his thumbs into the base from underneath, causing the taut string that the beads sat on to suddenly go slack.

“Gah!” Soap let out, mimicking the sound of getting hit as the giraffe instantly flopped over. After a second, he let go of the button and the giraffe bounced back up, resurrected once again. He pressed the button several times, watching it flop over and over.

Soap giggled. It was so stupid, but Ghost succumbed to Soap’s joy and also found himself laughing at the floppy giraffe, the feeling light and freeing.

With his own smile plastered onto his face, he listened as Soap recounted some of the ornament’s stories. Or they simply laughed at the wonky one’s clearly made by a dumb child. Glittery pinecones, felt mittens, marker drawings on sheets of wood, one with Santa’s bare ass entirely on display, fancier snowflakes and bobbles.

And before he knew it, Ghost’s watched beeped twice, something it did at midnight every night. The tree was crowded with ornaments, some of the branches teetering under the weight. Soap looked down at Ghost’s watch, also familiar with what that beep meant.

Ghost leaned over to peer into the box, it now just a mess of crinkled paper. But peeking out from underneath the stuffing was something shining, yellow. Ghost reached in and pulled it out, shaking away the loose paper.

It was a star tree topper, its miniature size perfect to fit onto their miniature tree. Ghost stuck the curling base onto the top of the tree. It slanted slightly and he adjusted it with a finger nudge to sit up straight. Once he was sure it wouldn’t fall over, he turned back to Soap.

Soap was watching him with indescribable tenderness, an inkling of a smile lingering warmly on his face.

“There’s another MacTavish tradition I haven’t told you about…” he said softly, his voice low and quiet, his words just for the two of them.

“Yeah?” Ghost asked. “What’s that?”

Soap stepped closer, enough to send Ghost’s heart leaping into his throat. He was so close, all he had to do was reach out, he could pull Soap in by the waist, press them together.

Soap’s eyes flickered down to Ghost’s lips.

“The person who puts the star on gets a kiss…”

Then without hesitation, he leaned in, inching up slightly on his toes and pressing their lips together.

As soon as those lips were on him, Ghost’s mind blanked, whisking him away from reality until there was nothing else but the two of them. Ghost immediately melted into the kiss, his soul overwhelmed with relief after having suffered with yearning for so long.

Ghost wrapped his arm around Soap’s waist, easily pulling him as if they’d done it a million times before. Soap’s hand reached up and grabbed at Ghost’s shoulders, locking them in place.

It was beyond anything Ghost could have imagined, butterflies exploding in his stomach, and lights dancing behind his eyelids, and softness greater than anything he had felt. He was dizzy for a second as he felt himself reorient. Then, stillness. Every part of himself pointed at Soap.

Their kiss ended far too soon – though Ghost could have taken those lips forever and never gotten tired of them – and Soap gently rest their foreheads together. His hand cupped the side of Ghost’s face, such tenderness single handedly repairing the deep cavern that had torn Ghost’s heart open long ago.

His thumb gingerly rubbed back and forth.

“Merry Christmas, Simon…” he said softly.

Ghost couldn’t hold himself back and he searched desperately for Soap’s lips once again, finding salvation in their warmth. Soap chuckled and wrapped his arms around Ghost’s neck, happily sighing into the kiss as well.

[pearlywritings]

Courted by a... Hero?

synopsis: Diluc has feelings for you, but is under the impression that you do not reciprocate - his courting attempts show as much. But he comes to find out, that you are at ease around his alter ago... 

It won’t hurt to try and court you as the Darknight Hero. Right?

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: fluff, pining, courting, seemingly unreciprocated feelings, Darknight Hero!Diluc

word count: 3k words

a/n: this was suggested by a lovely anon~

Diluc Ragnvindr is enamored with you.

Diluc Ragnvindr thinks he is not that subtle about his affections. But it seems that he actually is, because otherwise the Master of the Dawn Winery does not understand how you manage to miss all the clues, all the longing gazes, all the small compliments and acts he does for you in attempts to hint that he'd like to court you.

Аpparently the longing in his eyes is lost in his regular stoic and a bit mournful expression, small compliments are so polite that it's not hard to mistake them for his gentlemanly antics, and his other actions are just a thread away from acts of service and help, which, given his сhivalry nature, do not stand out too.

Diluc doesn't get many opportunities to see you, since you do not visit the tavern often, but he tries so hard to make the meetings more numerous. An invitation to play cards at the Cat's Tail here and there, an insistence to walk you home, an offer to accompany you through the market as you go grocery shopping, always coming with an excuse of checking on the goods to tell Elzer later what purchases they should change for the Winery and its workers. Adelinde always smiles at him knowingly whenever some new dishes are added to his menu.

He is trying to show his affections to you, he really does, but he is too dense for that to come out exactly as he pictured it in his head. However, when you smile at him softly, accepting his offers, when you vent a little to him about a stupid coworker, when you stop at the Good Hunter to have supper with him - he thinks that the long process is worth it.

It's a great surprise, but the first time he gets an opportunity to hold you close is not a part of you dating him. No, your relationship is far from that, and his persona is hidden under the mask and a hooded cape, as he carries you bridal style. He is well aware of you staring up at him, but he can't make himself lower his gaze and meet with yours. He is just bringing you to a safe place after you twisted your ankle on a late evening run to catch a cat for your neighbor - a sweet old woman, whose pet seems to love escaping on an almost daily basis.

It's so hard to believe that he managed to be in the right place, at the right time, yet he chides himself for not arriving earlier - he could've caught you, preventing you from injuring yourself and falling. 

But it is such a quiet night… Maybe that's why he heard your painful yelp from two blocks away, rushing to help whoever got themselves in danger, and finding you sitting on the pavement and rubbing your leg.

"So… Mister Darknight Hero," he nearly groans at the name people gave him. He is intrigued by your lack of fear though, or at least worry, about some stranger picking you up and carrying you somewhere. The relaxed ring of arms wrapped around his neck only further proves it.

"Yes?" Diluc makes his voice gruff and low, still avoiding eye contact.

"Where are you taking me?" You sound curious, and the redhead can't help, but feel a bit aggravated - shouldn't you be concerned? Of course he is not taking you home - it'd be both creepy if a stranger knew your address and stupid, since your leg needs proper examination and treatment. Though still, you are so willingly accepting the masked man's help and entrust your fate in his arms fully, that it makes sarcasm evident in his words.

"On a late night date," he huffs with a slight roll of his eyes, letting his boldness out - something he can't allow himself to do often in the broad daylight as Diluc Ragnvindr.

"Oh really?" There is a hint of amusement in your tone, like you are enjoying his admission. "We've just met and you are bringing me on a date already? My, aren't you a forward man, Mister Hero. And where is this amazing place that's open so late? The tavern?"

"The hospital," Diluc does not realize it, but his cheeks are tinted pink, even if his voice remains inexpressive. However, he easily notices how relaxed you are in his hold, in his presence - even shooting teasing comments back at him and calling a date, well, a date. That's like more progress than he's had in the past month trying to court you.

Can it be… that he must change his approach? You, of course, can be attracted to completely different qualities in a man, and he should've taken it into consideration. Maybe this whole time he's been doing everything wrong.

Yet it’s too early to jump to conclusions, even if the winery owner slowly but surely grows desperate. To avoid false assumptions he decides to give it a proper thought tomorrow, after he visits you to check on your condition, bare of his alter ego.

As the morning comes and the sun gets brighter, Diluc is patiently waiting for the afternoon to see you. Half a day is enough for him to ‘receive the news’ about your condition however, but those several hours are excruciating. Are you well? Does your ankle hurt? Are you hungry? Maybe he should bring you food from Good Hunter… Are you thinking of him? Or…of tonight?

These thoughts are eating at his consciousness and when the midday eventually comes, the poor man looks exhausted. Lisa, whom he bumps into near the Alchemy stand, comments on it accordingly. Oh, but how fortunate it is, that she is the one to tell him about the events of last night and your current whereabouts.

“She looked ecstatic though,” the woman smiles, hands crossed and an intricate bell chiming on the tip of her large hat as she walks beside Diluc. “You should’ve seen that look on her face when she was telling me about the hero who saved her… Oh, but you will, won’t you? I am guessing you are going to pay her a visit.”

“You are correct,” the redhead nods, eyes trained on the today’s menu of the restaurant, as they get closer. “Right after I buy her some lunch.”

“A bouquet too, perhaps,” the smile turns teasing, emerald eyes glinting with knowledge. “I wonder when…” she pauses, but then decides against speaking what’s on her mind, shaking her head. “No matter. Good luck, Diluc.”

Luck? It’s such an abstract thing, something the wine tycoon doesn’t want in his life. If he needs something - he’d forge it with his own two hands, the ones that are currently occupied with a steaming meal and fresh flowers as he steps inside your chamber.

You are so lovely. Crimson eyes take in your resting form, basking in the sunlight from an open window. Warm rays kiss your cheeks and nose, falling right on the pages of a book he is sure Lisa has brought you. Tranquility suits you like the best of dresses and for a moment he gets lost in a scene before him, honored to be a part of it. 

That is until you lift your gaze and look at him and this time it’s your smile that makes the noble man go weak.

“Diluc! Hi,” your voice is so soft, bursting with excitement, which is also evident in how quickly you shut your book and put it away. This is a signal for the redhead to finally move closer and he eagerly takes this chance.

“I heard about what happened to you,” he offers you flowers and you gasp - a beautiful sound that touches the deepest strings of his soul. “I wanted to make you feel better. Also, I brought lunch.”

“Diluc…” There is appreciation in your tone, one, that strokes his ego. “You really didn’t have to, but I won’t decline the offer. Not to offend anyone,” you lower your voice, “but the food here is terrible.”

And he laughs. That’s a deep marvelous sound, that comes all the way from the confines of his chest, reserved for you only. Your giggles compliment it so perfectly, and when you hide behind the flowers, with only your eyes on display, shining and crinkling from joy - he falls in love even harder.

It almost feels like a date his nightly persona promised to take you on - flowers, delicious meal, his undivided attention… And even though it is not all that different from all the other times you spent together, this one feels far more special.

“So… You say you were saved by the Darknight Hero?” This question has been dancing on the tip of his tongue long before you even started to retell him the story of tonight. You nod vigorously, chewing on the most delicious chicken you’ve ever had.

“Mhm. And Archons, when I say this man is bold, he is bold.”

Your tone and the way your eyes just glinted… Can he assume you love such a character more? Should he…pursue you under the disguise of your savior?

He sure can try.

And try he does. Every night you would receive a masked visitor in your window. Every day Diluc would also come, to bring you fresh flowers, glorious meals and with hopes to know what you think of his other occupation. The Darknight Hero turned out to be charming. Diluc Ragnvindr is charming too, but it’s a different kind of charming - secure, understanding, reliable, loyal. While his alter-ego is mysterious, brooding, flirting and bold.

You seem to enjoy the latter. Why else would you wait for him, refusing to sleep, knowing that the Darknight Hero would come? Why would your eyes remain soft when gazing at an already not a stranger, yet not an acquaintance still? Why would you entertain his jokes and ask to tell you about what he does for Mondstadt? Watching him perch on the windowsill, chin resting on your fisted hands and purest interest written all over your face...

He was so right to ask the staff to move you to a different room with a bed close to the window. Doesn't matter he had to climb to the third floor, it's all in the name of love, however cheezy it sounds.

Only one question remains - how should he bring up the courting? Every normal woman would freak out if a man she barely knows (come on, even his face and voice are veiled) asked her out. Soon you'll be discharged, and climbing into your apartment's window is inappropriate too. The night strolls? No, he can't rob you of more sleep than he already selfishly does. But what should he do…

You seem to like it though, so there is absolutely no reason to complain.

You notice his silence. Curiosity replaces all other senses, just as it has been for all these nights you’ve spent with the man, and you cock your head to the left shoulder, observing, trying to guess what's behind the wall of his mind.

"What got you thinking so hard, Mr Hero?" At least you dropped using the whole title, which he is forever grateful for. "You look like someone who's trying to solve an extremely difficult case. Mind sharing? Maybe I can help."

Archons, you are so-so precious… and not completely wrong. He supposes, that since you’ve already started this conversation… He might just give it a shot. After all he is an entirely different man for you now, right? The straightforward one too.

Yet why is his heart thumping so wildly in his chest?

“I was… am wondering, if such a gorgeous woman, sitting in front of me right now, would let me court her.”

That’s it. The words are out, no turning back here. It feels surreal, true, but the male reassures himself that at least one issue is going to be out of his way, and whatever decision you’d make - he’d take it. Even if you angrily chase him out of the chamber.

However, it’s so hard to look you in the eyes - those pretty eyes that are filled with warmth and admiration, two things that are easy to turn into a freezing cold and disgust.

“You? As in the Darknight Hero?”

Here it is. Here is the implication that might as well as mean that whatever you two built during the few nighttime meetings is now ruined by a simple half-flirtatious suggestion.

All he can do is nod.

“I am sorry, Sir,” oh, the everlasting softness of your voice... Is that really how one delivers the rejection? “But there is already someone in my heart. I hope you will understand.”

Of course he does, no matter how painful it is. A delicate soul and a loving heart of yours can’t stay unoccupied, it would’ve been stupid to think so. Doesn’t matter the notion pierces his heart - he mustn’t take it close to it while wearing a mask.

“I apologize,” is all he can mutter, the voice suddenly slipping its usual gruffness, but no attention is spared to it.

“No need,” he is aware of the groan of the mattress as you shift, pulling your legs over the edge of the bed, and fully facing him now. “I am actually grateful for you being here to hear that. It’s been hard to keep it all in,“ this he understands even more. “Can I ask for a small favor?”

“Sure,” it’s the least he can do for making you uncomfortable.

“Can I whisper his name to you?”

The night is magical. There is no other explanation than its luring spell for why the man who’s just gotten rejected is sliding off the windowsill and moving closer to you to grant you your request. It’s also possible that your curiosity is contagious, but, Diluc does not dwell on it, he knows that the Darknight Hero wouldn’t.

Just as he doesn’t have time to react. A startled gasp is stuck in his throat, a hand shoots up, but it’s too late. Thick crimson bangs are spilling from under the pulled hood and ruby eyes widen in fright when the mask is pulled off of his face. He freezes in his bending position, staring at you in disbelief, fingers curled in a grasp not so far from his face. The face you know all too well. 

“Knew it,” you look content, twirling the beaked accessory between your fingers. Your smile is serene, and the image of a beautiful tranquility once again makes his heart skip a beat. What’s going on? Is this even real? Is there an option to let the ground swallow him whole? What do you mean ‘you knew’? Is it a good thing? Is it a bad thing? Is he screwed?

Archons, is your relationship screwed?

“Diluc,” it's his own name that shakes him back to reality. The blush creeps up his cheeks, mixing the blazing hues of embarrassment and shame.

“Yes..?”

You cock your head again, the smile getting wider.

“I promised the name of whom my heart belongs to, no? It’s Diluc. Diluc Ragnvindr. You.”

He swears he will faint right here and now. It must be a dream, it must be!

“You are thinking it’s a dream, aren’t you?” With a sigh you abandon the mask on the duvet, reaching out for his gloved hand, carefully tracing the back of it with the tips of your fingers. “Well, it’s not. And I am serious.”

“But-” He clears his throat, cursing the weakness in his knees at the barest of your touch. His mind is rushing, he can’t make logical conclusions, he can barely think with everything suddenly crashing and crumbling around him. So his heart takes over, bringing up his most sacred concern. “But I thought you were not interested in me.”

“Of course I am!” He flinches when the offense slips into your tone. “Of course I am, it’s just… you never asked me about dating. And I falsely assumed you are satisfied with what we already have.”

And he was. For the longest time, until it became obvious that he is not.

“When you saved me that evening I knew it was you. There is no mistake in the comforting warmth your body exudes, nor in the way you generally carry yourself. Also those strong hands… Can you name that many claymore users?”

You’ve known all this time?

“Forgive me for being selfish,” you chuckle sheepishly, unconsciously fiddling with his fingers, and Diluc finds it both cute and reassuring, calming even. “I kept you both during the day and at night for myself. I just wanted to know this side of you better. To know you better. And when you asked me under the disguise of the Darknight Hero… I just knew I wanted to hear that from the Diluc Ragnvindr.”

“In that case,” he lowers on his knee, clasping your hands in his and lying to himself that it’s not from how his body collapses with relief, clinging to you as if you’ll turn out to be just a piece of his desperate imagination, “I am selfish too. Because I was coming to you day and night with the exact same thoughts.”

“Does it make us a couple of selfish idiots, who clearly lack communication skills?” You giggle, and, Archons, what a splendid sound.

“I guess it does. Though I’d like the ‘couple’ part to become more real," giving your palms a squeeze, Diluc takes a deep breath, and with a new-found confidence makes his intentions clear. "Y/n L/n, will you go out with me?”

“Yes!”

The redhead cannot keep in his own laughter when you tug on his hands to draw him closer, to throw your arms around his broad shoulders and bury you face in his hair, smiling ear to ear. Gingerly he places his own palms on the small of your back, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder, and releasing a shaky breath.

Together. You are officially together.

And he is going to take his time with you.

taglist: @axerrri

[yuri-is-online]

Was Lilia more “Oh my thorn fairy I have another child?! I can barely cast a spell as of now and future me wants a fucking KID?! AT THAT AGE?!”

Or more of a

I HAVE ANOTHER SON?! AND IT’S FROM ME!?

If his Yutu tells him he comes from the future? Because it could imply he does regain his remaining years and magic. Idk how you wrote that problem that even rn it’s giving talk about Lilia surviving book 7 or not.

If it’s the second I already see him passing by Silver’s room really excited and saying “YOU HAVE A BROTHER!” And zooming off, leaving a very confused Silver and thinking he refers to either Malleus or Sebek.

technically anon asked first but this ask is much longer so it was awkward to screenshot for an answer. Here is the link the anon used for reference, I obligated as an elderly hater to let you know it's from SAO. Anon's idea is extremely good and we're going to roll with it for this Yutu's Uniqe Magic because you know he was always going to be a little shit.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FOR: Book 7, Lilia's back story, and Silver's unique magic. Please engage with this in mind. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

I have a bit of difficult time writing for Lilia given how much older he is than the rest of the cast, so I tend to write his Yuu as being a bit older themselves. Maybe they had an extremely difficult childhood and connected with Lilia over their shared sense of robbed innocence. Whatever it was I think this Yuu has a bit of a fascination with creatures of the night and a lot of their weirdo reputation within their community comes from kids telling each other that Yuu and Yutu are vampires. That makes me tempted to say Lilia! Yutu's real name is Alucard or Sebastian, something vaguely vampire themed.

None of those rumors are helped by Yutu finding himself very lethargic when out in the sunlight or his preference for colder temperatures. From his perspective he can't exactly help being who he is, people should really just get over themselves and let him do his thing. It's not his fault that bats really seem to like him for some reason, the neighbors are exaggerating Mr. Animal Control officer he swears.

Because he prefers to spend his awake hours in the dark, he is waaaaay too comfortable doing things and going places he shouldn't. He's real familiar with all the abandoned buildings and sketchy alleys of your town and has tagged quite a few of them. I like the idea of Lilia! Yutu being really interested in street art and Graffiti. I could see him putting up a bunch of bats everywhere and getting in a bunch of trouble for it. He has very fond memories of Yuu letting him paint murals on portions of their house in an effort to meet him halfway. He might like a good prank but unlike his father Yutu is always pulling his punches with Yuu.

Lilia didn't exactly have a supportive parent while he was growing up, something I feel like Yuu remembers and is very conscious of in their parenting of Yutu. Unfortunately for Lilia they also remember that he had another child and was a lot older than them, something Yutu raises several eyebrows at and causes him to ignore the things Yuu tries to tell him about his "great sense of humor" and "desire for different peoples to learn and grow with one another-" yeah that's great can you back up a bit to where you said he had another family? Yutu goes through life thinking he was the product of an affair Yuu had with a much older, married man who was just trying to feel young again. The amnesia stuff... sometimes he wonders if his dad tried to have Yuu killed. He never says it out loud because something tells him he's wrong, but gut feelings aren't as trustworthy as statistics...

So you can imagine his surprise when he tumbles out of a coffin and is told that his dad was a faerie general bound in service to a family of dragons, veteran of an ancient war, and technically the adoptive father of the Prince of the children of the night and the Prince of the rival human kingdom that killed his best friends. One of which is alive and overwhelmed with joy to meet him. Silver wanted Yutu almost as badly as Lilia and Yuu did so to see him alive and awkwardly squirming in his arms? Silver hasn't cried this much since they lost Lilia and Malleus.

Having a proper older brother, not just the concept, is an extreme change for Yutu. He's used to it just being him and Yuu, and he was sort of expecting Silver to hate him just for existing. Nothing could be further from the truth, Silver wants his younger brother to have the same freedoms he did while attending school but he also respectfully requests that Yutu spend at least some of his free time with him. He tried desperately to find his dreams over the years and was never able to make firm contact, but he doesn't want to pressure Yutu into caring about him. Yutu is didn't realize how badly he wanted other family members until he got to have Silver, he's even willing to take up sword fighting so they can get closer.

Sebek is also overwhelmed with tears upon seeing Lilia! Yutu. He is a bit harsh on him for "not living up to Master Lilia's legacy" because he doesn't know anything about fighting. He does applaud him for his willingness to learn. Yutu thinks Sebek is hilarious and messes with him just as much as Lilia does. Something Sebek is completely willing to let him do because it makes him feel like Lilia never left.

All of the Yutus get to see some of the photographs Yuu left behind, but Lilia! Yutu is especially interested in them. He makes a small photo album of all the ones he can find of his dad, especially ones where he's with Yuu and Silver. He's partially driven by guilt for thinking his father was a terrible person, but really he just wants to feel closer to him. He's half fae, and sure he has Sebek to talk about that with but what he really needs is a connection with his father. Yutu doesn't really care about being a faerie. He just cares about his dad's acceptance, everything else can go hang.

I don't have a name for his unique magic, but going off of anon's idea it allows him to overwhelm his target's mind, forcing them to think about their greatest fears to the point they are convinced they are really going through it. Someone hates spider? All over their face and in their clothes. Crippling fear of failure? Suddenly that emotion is all they can focus on. And if it's a mindless creature like a blot phantom or a monster they become overwhelmed with the sensation that they are unable to breathe and about to die. Yutu can't control the illusion the person experiences so usually he tries not to use it on his classmates.

That changes when he goes into the past. Some rando want to shit talk Yuu? Nightmare. Macho NRC guy wants to rumble? Nightmare. Some random guy jumped out from behind him and yells "BOO!" Nightma-

If Yutu had been just a hair slower he would have been in extreme pain, the dangerous glint in those familiar ruby eyes scream that. The short fae smiles almost cruelly, advancing on him clearly upset even though Yutu has dropped the spell.

"Well now, that's no way to great a senior." Lilia's voice is strangely soothing, it occurs to Yutu that this is probably the first time his father has ever been angry at him and he can't help himself. He laughs,

"Yeah sorry about that." He makes sure to try and be cute about it, which helps to diffuse the tension some what. "You really scared me so it was all I could think to do."

Lilia is very impressed by Yutu's reflexes and control over his unique magic. He is even further impressed by how eager Yutu is to train with Silver. The kid has some real promise and fits into Silver and Sebek's dynamic better than Lilia could have dreamed of. He really hopes the two will benefit from having a relatively normal human friend their age to train with. Maybe he and Yuu will stick around and give him some piece of mind about the kids being in good hands when he's gone.

Yutu hanging around Diasomnia gives him an excuse to chat with Yuu more, not that he exactly needed it. Lilia sort of hates the way he's drawn to you, it feels unfair. Unfair to you to give you hope there could be something more and toy with your affections; unfair to him for life to finally allow him to realize what romantic love is like just in time to have to let it go. There is a bittersweet tone to all of your interactions that his housemates are a bit too socially awkward to pick up on but Cater does.

Yutu is surprised how much he likes Cater, he associates him with a terrifying monster he's had to fight multiple times, not a fun guy who is really determined to help his parents get together. And what's even better he's really chill when Yutu asks for stories about Lilia, he has a lot of them and a completely different perspective than his older brother allowing Yutu to glean some more insight to what his parents might have been thinking in the future.

He finds himself spending a lot of time with the pop music club, not as an official member though he's not great at carrying a tune. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are glad to have another person to chill with, sometimes they'll play music and Yutu will draw something based off whatever noise they made. Cater wants to talk him into doing album art for them... you know if they ever get around to making a recording.

I think Yutu will only tell Lilia who he is if he has no choice. He wants to mess with the timeline as little as possible, but should a monster from his timeline appear in this one, say like an overblotted Yuu another asker was so nice as to bring up, well it's not like he says who he is. He just addresses the monster as his parent and has a very loud meltdown not wanting to fight them again. Something Malleus is more than willing to assist him with.

"Think nothing of it." Malleus's power is truly terrifying, Yutu is torn between sorrow that he wasn't on their side and relief he didn't overblot a second time. "You are Lilia's son yes? That makes you my subject, and a most precious one at that." Not that Yutu has avoided interacting with Malleus exactly, he's just found talking to him exceptionally awkward because well. He's not Yuu, he's very aware of how important Malleus is supposed to be. But the way he's looking at him now makes him think that maybe he was missing out on interacting with another older brother.

Something that's confirmed when he turns to see how big his father's eyes have gotten, the man is shaking as he stares at his face and flicks between him, Malleus, and Silver like he's staring at the most precious pieces of art in the whole universe.

As you brought up Lilia's survival isn't guaranteed, I did not solve that problem at all. I sort of just... wrote that Lilia would age more or less like a normal human and not really be able to use magic on par with what a fae would consider normal but would still be impressive to a human... so while Lilia might be a bit reluctant to show his face in Briar Valley he would still have enough years to have and raise Yutu. He might have actually died around the same time as Yuu if they had lived a normal life.

He is overwhelmingly excited at the thought of having another baby. Lilia might not know what to do with them but he does really like kids. What's harder for him to accept is his relationship with Yuu. Raising a child is something he's done before, being someone's long term partner is not. He is unused to feeling desirable, and unfamiliar with acting on his own desires. Sure Lilia might seem very free spirited, but much of his life has been dictated by a sense of duty. The thought of having something precious to him that chose him specifically of their own free will is... disarming. He's overwhelmed with how helpless you make him feel and how little he despises it.

Yutu's need to be accepted by his father is met and exceeded almost immediately. Lilia wants to cook a big family dinner for Yuu and all of his boys, something that Malleus politely rejects asking if he can instead show his Culinary Crucible skills off to Yutu (it's really so he can make babiest brother promise to never eat anything Paw Paw makes EVER) and it's all so normal Yutu almost forgets that he's listening to a practical god smugly tell him he knows all about edible weeds as his father flies around him cracking jokes and pinching his cheeks. His older brother is asleep on the couch waiting for the food to be done and his precious parent is helping his Uncle Sebek set the table, listening to him sniffle about how beautiful Master Lilia's family is.

Lilia might be practically retired, but his mind is still sharp. The information Yutu is able to pass on to him lands in good hands. When he tucks Yutu into bed that night, long after the boy has gone to sleep so as not to embarrass him he makes sure to take a good long look at the little miracle. He is beyond grateful Yutu exists, not even the Thorn Fairy could have given him a finer blessing (he'll have to make sure to tease you about that later, that's got to be a good pick up line) He will make sure that this risk his son has taken pays off, Lilia Vanrouge wasn't feared for no reason. Something it seems some foolish mortals need reminding of.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

HELLO I moved last week and I have no WiFi or service in my flat (posting from a coffee shop) so I apologise for the lack of posting.

However, this was meant to be for today's wolfstarmicrofic prompt Basilisk, but it's officially much too long because I've missed writing to post lmao, so it's not a microfic.

(Ravenclaw Remus AU.)

"Lupin, you're patrolling with..." Moody flicks quickly through his notes, "Black."

"Oh, er... Alright," he says with a shrug, trying to pass himself off as calm.

Internally? Every single alarm is going off in his head.

Remus never exactly... spoke to Sirius Black, or his friends. Ravenclaws and Gryffindors aren't really destined to interact, and Remus would have chosen death over joining the Quidditch team. That didn't stop him from being one of far too many people in the school that had a major minor crush on Sirius.

Sure, he knew that Sirius had grown up rich and pampered. He always held himself in this way that made him seem ten times more important than everyone else. That wasn't exactly helped by the fact that he was a Gryffindor. Lily, Mary and Marlene were the only Gryffindors Remus has ever really tolerated. The rest are all pretentious as fuck. Everyone knows that.

Still, for some reason, his brain would short circuit whenever he was so much in the same room as Sirius. He still lays awake at night, humiliated about the time he accidentally caught Sirius' eyes and tripped over the bench in the Great Hall.

Joining the Order wasn't even a question for him. Anything to help them win the war. He hadn't exactly expected Sirius to do the same, but it just makes him feel like he's back in school. Frustratingly enough for him, Sirius has only gotten more attractive in the year since they've left school. It hasn't really mattered until now, though. He's been pretty successful in avoiding him. It's probably helped by the fact that he isn't even on Sirius' radar, but this? He's going to set the strangest first impression on the planet.

There's nothing he can do about it, though.

That's how Remus finds himself waiting outside the Order house, fidgeting with an unlit cigarette.

"Hey, Remus!"

There he is.

Remus looks up, shoving the cigarette back into the carton. Sirius has stopped in front of him, running a hand through his hair and grinning at Remus.

Leather jackets look weird on literally everyone other than him.

Remus has to jostle his brain into functioning. He blinks once, before finally mustering a polite smile.

"Hi. Should we get going?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

They walk in silence for a while, moving from spot to spot and taking the odd note.

Until Sirius decides he's done with all of that.

"Y'know, I was hoping you'd join the Order."

"Sorry?" Remus practically stops in his tracks, turning to Sirius with wide eyes. Shock ripples through him.

Hoping?

"I mean, I had a feeling you would. I'm just... glad you did, I guess."

"I didn't even know you knew I existed," Remus confesses quickly.

Sirius actually does stop moving, grabbing Remus' forearm and stopping him too.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, really. You existed on this... separate plane. I mean, you were you. Everyone knew about you. Why would I be on your radar?"

"Remus," Sirius says slowly, eyes boring into Remus'. It sends a shiver down Remus' spine. "All I did was think about you."

"What?" Remus sputters, a strange mixture of confusion and shock overwhelming him.

"Oh, I had such a crush on you." He shrugs like it's nothing; like what he just said hasn't turned Remus' entire world on its axis. "I thought that was obvious, I mean... you're bloody brilliant. Ravenclaw prefect, running a study group-"

"I can't believe you've even given me a second thought," Remus says, a little breathless.

"Merlin, I did. I remember telling James that I'd fight a Basilisk for you." Sirius chuckles to himself, but Remus is losing control over his own responses scarily quickly. "I know you couldn't stand me, but-"

"Who said that?"

"Nobody had to." Sirius watches Remus, a little puzzled. "You're not the biggest fan of Gryffindors, right?"

Well, he's not wrong.

"Besides, you couldn't stay in the same room as me. You literally fell over yourself trying to get away from me before."

"Oh, God," Remus mutters under his breath, his face heating up uncomfortably. His one comfort has been that Sirius didn't notice him embarrassing himself every time he walked into the room.

"Sorry," Sirius says suddenly, releasing Remus' hand. "I didn't mean to- Christ, I've made things even more awkward, haven't I?"

Huh.

He's not as confident as Remus thought.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean- let's just forget I said that. Finish patrolling."

No.

Remus doesn't want to forget. He needs to do something, before Sirius never speaks to him again.

Hurriedly, he grabs Sirius' hand, pulling him into an alley nearby.

Well, he's committed to it now. No turning back.

"Remus, what-"

He pulls Sirius in by his stupidly perfect jacket and connects their lips before he has a chance to second guess himself.

Thankfully, Sirius wastes no time in falling into the kiss. His lips are soft against Remus', parting just enough for their tongues to meet.

The kiss is everything he could have imagined and more. Sirius is somehow both tentative and eager and he tastes like cinnamon and fuck, Remus may as well have died and gone to heaven. His hand involuntarily slides into Sirius' hair, and he's rewarded with a muffled gasp.

Okay, maybe Gryffindors aren't that bad.

[twit-ter-pa-ted]

Love Language - Vinsmoke Sanji

a/n: this is the first of the 'love languages' series im posting! ofc i had to start with my bbgrill idiot cook. slight warning that yes, this is ranked in the way i think sanji's ll's would be ranked. i've finished writing for the monster trio and i may or may not write one for usopp and nami too (and maybe robin? vivi? we will see.) anyway, enjoy reading! <;33

Acts of Service

This is Sanji's main love language. He loves cooking for the crew and most of all, you.

Given that he's a gentleman at heart, he goes above and beyond to show his love in this way.

Beyond cooking, he often offers you a glass of chill water whenever the sun's glare is too intense.

On top of that, he refuses to let enemies lay their hands on you in battle (even when you're perfectly capable of defending yourself). You could win a battle without so much as laying a finger on your opponents, and vice versa, with Sanji around.

There is so much more I could list under this.

He doesn't like receiving acts of service. He believes you should live an elegant life in the world without so much as lifting a finger (even if you're a pirate.), especially not for anyone else.

Physical Touch

Your touch is his lifeline! He can't get enough of you.

You're almost always there to accompany him whenever he cooks.

You learn that the best place to watch him cook from are the counters, because he'll find any excuse to pass by you and lovingly squeeze your hips or your waist, or kiss your shoulder, neck, cheek, lips, or your forehead. Whichever is most accessible as he casually passes by.

When he's not cooking and lounging with the crew, he likes resting with you on a hammock, limbs tangled together like a messy bundle of rope.

He likes running his fingers through your hair, but he also likes having your fingers in his hair. He goes crazy for you either way.

Words of Affirmation

He's a very vocal person.

He constantly tells you how pretty he thinks you are and how lovestruck you have him. He never fails to tell you just what's on his mind.

Whenever he tries to teach you ways how to cook, a string of affirmations endlessly leaves his lips to help encourage you.

On the other hand, Sanji is used to compliments, but compliments from you just hit different. He'd go soft the moment a praise is uttered from your lips and he'd be like pudding in the palm of your hand.

Quality Time

He loooovvveessss quality time.

Whenever he's cooking, he likes having you watching him. He'd explain to you every step in what he was doing even if you didn't exactly understand what most of it meant (He'd explain the terms to you like you're five. It's cute.).

He's practically fastened himself to you with a stitch. He rarely leaves your side and is always there with you (he may as well be your bodyguard), though he makes sure he doesn't suffocate you with his constant presence.

Giving/Receiving Gifts

Sanji loves to give gifts, though often gives gifts that have more effort than spent Berries.

He would pick a flower – hell, make a bouquet – while you're walking along a village and end up giving it to you at the end of the day.

He would absolutely write you a 10k worded, 1.5 spacing, Times New Roman font handwritten love letter expressing his love for you and still think that isn't enough to show you how much he loves you.

Alternatively, he's brought to tears whenever you gift him something. Whether it's something he wanted or something that just reminded you of him, he'd be very appreciative of it.

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hello! May I request Lucifer, Solomon, Barbatos, and Simeon with a s/o who's a master at textile design?

I can't help but imagine how grateful Lucifer would be if they tailored him 5 different suits.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hii! Yeah of course! Not really sure about it, the first 2 chars at least but... I really hope you'll like it at least a little bit nonetheless!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Lucifer is indeed so so glad for your tailoring skills

✧ do you know how many suits of his are devasted because of his brothers antics and how many of his suits got holes in them because 2 of his brothers decided to cut holes in them one day?

✧ and if you agree to fix that for him, he'd be even more glad, you'll literally have his gratitude and special treatment!

✧ and he's definitely gonna try watching over his brothers to not use you too much... but then again, he'd probably be doing that himself!!

✧ the second you stop minding and asking you to sew something becomes neutral... be ready to be given those tasks more often... here curtain needs some fixing, here another cloth, here tablecloth, really anything!!

✧ he may accidentally give you too much so feel free to tell him about it! You already did enough so he'll accept it and try to not give you this much at once again

"Y/N, could I ask you to fix another suit for me? Allow me to explain... Satan and Belphie thought it was amazing idea to..."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Barbatos is a bit similar to Lucifer... but at least more gentler and understanding

✧ trust me, he knows how having too much on your head is like so he won't ever do it to the one's he cares about

✧ he doesn't even come to you with his own clothes! He literally will ask you to sew a curtain or something and not to save money, but because event is coming and service is getting late...

✧ you'll most likely have to tell him you can handle more work because otherwise, he's a bit too scared to overwork you... especially that you're human so your limit must be way lower than his!

✧ I have a feeling like he can sew himself but sometimes just doesn't have time for it... so that's when you come in! But mostly, you'll get the "I can do it myself in free time but thank you" answer

✧ if anything, he'd be more interested in you designing textiles! It's obviously most important part, so he'll honestly have lot of respect for what you do! Even if your work doesn't match his style... he'll still support you in what you do

"I'm sorry for interrupting you but may I ask you to fix this for me? I apologize if it's too much, I can explain everything in 10 minutes... I only need to finish few tasks first."

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✧ I feel like Solomon saw many who could sew and even tried that himself! He just never got that skill somehow and always ends up poking needle against his finger but accident... which leads to him eventually dropping whatever he was trying to sew

✧ but he can't decline it's useful skill so when he sees that his lover can do that, he's more than happy to watch you!

✧ but he does get nervous sometime that you'll also hurt yourself with a needle... which leads to him distracting you from time to time unfortunely...

✧ believe me, he has many clothes that need to be tailored but he never really had time to give that to someone or skill to do that himself! So if you notice that and offer to tailor one of his clothes... he'll pull out pile of many others... GOOD LUCK

✧ basically, he's just gonna be impressed and concerned... but if you decide to teach him... he'll be more than happy!

✧ he may actually not get it as easily as you'd want him to but a bit of more patience and he'll get it eventually

"Hey watch out! You'll hurt your-... Oh... well I guess your fingers are skilled enough to avoid it... well that's impressive... Would you mind sharing this little secret with me?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Simeon maybe doesn't have too much experience with simple sewing, but he seems like the kind of person who'd enjoy embroidery!

✧ and those two are close enough + he most likely can sew basic things like fixing clothes, so you actually for few topics

✧ when he discovers you're tailor and textile designer, he'd be actually more interested in second part, just because he already knows enough about first part

✧ he'd be happy to see your scratches compared to the final product or maybe even see some materials used in actual clothes if you have some

✧ it's most likely first time he sees someone doing that with so much passion so he'll definitely listen to all of your possible rambles

✧ in fact, instead of just nodding, he also asks to the questions to show you how interested he is!

✧ but like mentioned before, he can only see simple things so when he sees you seeing clothes, he's also really impressed! And most likely will ask if he can watch you work, to both learn something maybe and watch over you so you won't hurt yourself accidentally

"This is the first design? Wow... it's not even slightly similar to finished product... but it also had a potential... what if you release it but with few adjustments, since it didn't suit you in the first place? For example..."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your soft angel~

[fanficsbyme-causeimgay]

Disclaimer: Image this in the Van Helsing werewolf design, please. I love that movie.

Imagine, if you will, the full moon.

Now— you were never superstitious or believed in the supernatural, but when it is running at you on all fours in the darkness of the street, with sharp white teeth and with a single red glowing eye? Then, you do believe in the supernatural. So you do the sensible thing: You forget about putting the trash out, closes the door, and says, "Nope!" Before simply locking all doors and windows.

You stay in your room, door locked and under the blankets, just to make sure nothing bad could get you— After all, monsters don't fuck with you if you got a blanket on, that's the rules! You ignore the weird whining sounds and the weird scratching sounds, and fear gives way to tiredness once the adrenaline fades away.

You wake up the next day, believing the whole thing to be a nightmare, a figment of your masochistic mind paying tricks on you.

Werewolves don't exist!

But neighbors do. And you got a new one!

The first time you met was just a tiny little bit surprising, but normal when context was given— His dog ran into your porch. He had this beautiful Black Labrador that had a harness that read [Service Dog] on it, and her collar had [Leyla] written on it. And she was looking for something? She was sniffing everything around. Apparently, she was a new dog and was still being trained, which explained a lot about her behavior.

"Oh, hi- I apologize for Leyla!" He was tall. Definitely taller than you. Maybe 6'6? The most striking thing about his appearance was the eyepatch on his left eye, a plain black one. He walked with a limp and had a darkish green jacket over a plain white shirt and tight shorts. "I'm your new neighbor, Kata." And oh, his voice was just like the best thing you've heard - It was beautiful.

You soon find out that he used to be in the military. He worked closely with the K-9 bomb-sniffing unit to help clean the fields, and sadly, a newly trained dog missed one of the bombs, which led to his incident. He seemed pretty open and sincere when speaking about his experience as a veteran, not shy to express and answer your questions even going further and above.

When asked why, he simply answered: "You just wanted to learn more about me, so I taught you more." With a smile that was, honestly, quite breath taking.

Regardless of your little interactions, nothing seemed to be going on - much to your dismay - because he was clearly very hot and showed interest in you. Maybe it was the "don't ask don't tell" thing that the military has? You felt silly thinking about it, mostly because he never showed clear interest, so you decided not to assume anything of it.

In truth, however, he was unhealthy obsessed with you. He was constantly spending hours of his day listening to your breathing, to your heartbeat, to your little noises that you weren't even aware you made! Did you know you have this habit of clicking your tongue when you're playing games and sometimes something you didn't want to happen happens? Did you know you hum the sound of commercial jingles sometimes? Did you know that when you're asleep, you're quite vocal about your dreams, even if what you're saying doesn't make any sense? Did you know you smell like soft petrichor mixed with tulips and brown sugar when you're relaxed? Did you know he likes to watch you sleep from the window? Did you know that sometimes he breaks into your room while you're asleep and just stands beside you? Did you know he can't control it?

It's in his very nature.

Like humans can't help but breathe, tell stories, eat, and lie - Werewolves can't help but obsess over their Mates. Their Soulmates. Their one and only. Their destined - Call it what you will, but he loves you in ways you can't ever hope to understand... He wants you so badly, you should be happy he isn't laying it thick on you, that he is controlling himself to not jump you and fuck you everywhere, that-

Oh.

The full moon is here.

It happened really easily. You were asleep when you heard a pretty clear and rough sound of snoring, alongside the heavy weight of an arm on you, a weird, smooth, and wet sensation on your neck, and the heat of a body hugging you from behind. You couldn't move your body. Was this sleep paralysis? You look down and see arms of black fur holding you tight, and although you're confused, your mind finds reason: This is just a dream.

Oh, a dream! Of course this is a dream.

You huff... This might not be the exact first time you've dreamed of a big werewolf man and probably won't be the last! What? They're hot!

What was hotter, however, was waking up with a naked man in your bed. It was a shock at first, mostly because you're pretty sure you didn't have Kata sleeping in your bed last night...? Right? Was the dream about the werewolf his brain making up something to summarize or excuse Kata's presence in his bed? Dreams do that sometimes... But hey, looking at that dick was more than enough to make you forget about his presence for a few moments - It was, uhm, quite big.

"My eyes are up here..." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and like his tone of voice, he was looking very smugly at you: "Well, eye. Singular." He chuckled at his own words, poiting at his lack of eye - In fact, an unnaturally dark hole was there, almost like darkness originated from it.

You ask him what he is doing in your bed. Naked as the day he was born - but much, much hotter (and legal!)

And that is when he drops the ball.

So... as it turns out, werewolves are real... And they soulmates, and you are Kata's soulmate... Although overwhelmed at first, curiosity overwhelms you because of the fucking implications. What else is real? Magic? Fairies? Wizards!? Do they go to walmart!? Also, do werewolves follow normal wolf biology - Can they smell really far, hear really well, and do they mate for life too? And, also, do they have knots? As a rather curious person, you asked them.

"Well... I can show you." He replied, taking your hand for a moment and hesitating: "I-if you want?" He was rather nervous - the truth is, although he seemed confident, he was quite nervous. A wolf needs to be strong for their Mate. What about him? He is crippled. He is weak. He isn't good enough...

"...show me." Although a bit oblivious to flirting, you wouldn't say no to this.

As it turns out, werewolves do, in fact, have knots. And they can knot even in human form!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Fic idea that I am feral about right now because Wayward Son played on my walk this morning.

cw: Nikprice, alternative universe, mentions of torture, canon-typical violence, mention of internalised homophobia, Supernatural influences (sorry).

So, my partner commented on how Nikolai is like Price's guardian angel, because he always seems to be there when Price needs him (including when Price explicitly says it's a "one way trip"; Nik finds a way).

I laughed at the time, then promptly got headshot and threw the controller down, but wait.

What if he... is.

Sergeant Price dies in an Al Qaeda prison cell. They torture him for days, pushing his body into shock and then eventually into organ failure. Even with all the training, there's only so much a human body can take. Because he has done some pretty heinous shit already by this point, obviously his soul has a one-way ticket to the hot place and it ain't Mallorca.

But he has a fan.

An angel that has been watching him for a while. Price comes from a Protestant family, and he used to pray almost every night for god to make him "normal". To take away the unnatural feelings he had. To help him make his family proud. The angel used to listen and want to intervene, to tell him he's perfect the way he is, but there are rules.

After the... incident, Price stopped praying. (For those that know my headcanon, it's that, but I won't go into it here cause it would need a whole plethora of tags.)

The angel noticed.

In fact, he (we're going with that because it's Nik, but we all know angels are a... they? it?) misses the sound of Price's voice. He heads down to find out what happened and ends up visiting Price as he joins the service, becomes the very best, works hard, but always carries that deep sadness. He commits himself to getting dirty so others don't have to. Knowingly, given his faith, putting his soul on the line. The angel falls in love with Price, body and soul.

When Price dies, the angel can't stand the idea that someone who sacrificed for others is condemned to hell, simply because of what he had to do. So, he rebels. His last act before he is cast out is to wrench Price from hell and deposit him back into his body, and his first act on earth as one of the Fallen is to occupy the body of a lost and conflicted Russian Pilot, pushing him to accept the enticement of the US and the UK so Nik can reach Price. The guy has all but given up on life, so it's a mercy, really.

Price wakes up in an open mass grave and scrambles over to the corpses to safety. He doesn't know how or why, but he doesn't pause to think. He finds a radio, manages to get a message out, steals some weapons and some intel, blows the place sky high. Gets a medal.

The medics on base give him a clean bill of health but for some bruising and a broken bone or two. It's a bloody miracle.

A few weeks later, Price meets Nik for the first time because he's been drafted in as a pilot, and, for some reason, feels like he's known him for a lifetime. Nik thinks Price is the most beautiful thing in this world and the next, and wants to spend another few billion years looking into those blue-blue eyes.

The angel doesn't know why. Perhaps it's because he's so human. So flawed, so broken, so grizzled. Price isn't the dark underbelly of humanity and he's not the glittering hero; he is the scrappy, stubborn, imperfect, beautiful reality of the human condition, without apology.

To Nik, he's perfect.

And just... the heartbreak, the fear, the yearning, as Price falls for this tall, dark Russian who is always there. Always looks at him like he's worth something. Battling with the internal conflict of what he wants and what he should want, and realising the only thing holding him back now is the ghost of a man who can't hurt him anymore.

The betrayal, the disbelief, as Nik is forced to reveal what he is. The apology, the love confession, from both sides. The god damned wing kink when Nik takes them in the wilderness, high enough so that Price can almost touch god as Nik makes love to him for the first time; great, dark wings wrapped around them as if they could shield Price from ever being harmed again.

Nik ties his soul, his being, to Price's mortality. They'll grow old together, they'll turn grey, and after a billion years the angel will die at his lover's side, knowing that wherever their souls might end up, they will be together.

[fandomsfordays21]

Unlikely Sans AU friendship idea I CANNOT get out of my head...

So... I've been thinking about these two for a while and I've finally decided to post it on Tumblr.

Hear me out... Fresh and Lust as besties.

Now, I know what you're thinking, "Fresh would be disgusted by Lust or he would avoid him!" or something along those lines and/or another type of excuse as to why the wouldn't get along, HOWEVER! I disagree.

I actually think they could get along despite their differences and that the dynamic could be really interesting. Fresh is overall a chill, family friendly guy, right? We know that he hates swearing (Cause one of his powers is to literally censor it when he's around) and that he hates things like drugs and alcohol, right? But he's also a kinda flirty guy, and canonically has a list of people he has kissed and loves to add to it. I definitely think Fresh would be against dirty talking and stuff like that, but the overall idea of sex wouldn't really bother him. I mean, he wouldn't have any interest in it, but it's just a natural thing some people do. As long as they keep that behind closed doors, he wouldn't care. This is the reason I think him and Lust would get along.

Their relationship would definitely not be good at first, with how incredibly vulgar Lust is and how much he talks about sex, but I think that is actually how they would learn to get along. You see, my version of Lust is an Angel Dust like character. He's used to being seen as nothing more than "The sex fiend" and is probably used to people thinking that's all he is, so he acts like it. Lust is used to being seen as just a pretty face and body, but Fresh literally wouldn't care. Fresh wouldn't be all over him, nor would he be particularly disgusted by Lust, he just would want the guy to stop talking about sex all the time.

I think that, at some point, they would both reach a point of understanding about each other, and Lust would become more comfortable around Fresh. Maybe even comfortable enough to act a bit more like "himself" instead of the front he puts up. Lust would grow to like the nonchalant nature Fresh has, because he knows it's genuine. Fresh isn't pretending to have emotions he doesn't have, Fresh isn't pretending to be nice because he wants to get a discount on Lust's services. Lust wouldn't have to check every food or drink he's given, wouldn't have to analyze the tone of Fresh's voice to see if he's being lied too, because Fresh genuinely has no interest in Lust outside of friendship.

I headcannon that, even though Fresh doesn't really feel or understand any emotions, he will listen to other people vent about theirs, 'cause it'd be unrad of him if he didn't listen to his pals when they needed him to. I also headcannon that Fresh is the type of guy to tell when a person or place has bad vibes and will keeps his friends away from there. He's walking down the street with Lust and a guy is looking predatory? Lust is getting covered with a jacket three sizes too big for him because, "It's windy broski, ya need to learn to cover up." and then Fresh will give the guy a look that you never want to get from him. Lust wants to go to a club and/or bar? Fresh won't go due to the unrad substances inside, but he will be right outside the door waiting for Lust to come out and/or on high alert for any signs of distress from inside. Fresh would be the kind of bodyguard friend who no one realizes is a bodyguard friend because he's so casual about it.

I feel like Fresh would also be really understanding of Lust's hypersexuality, and that Lust can't help how he feels sometimes. Imagine Lust having a really bad Hypersexuality episode, the kind I sometimes have where it gets physically painful and you feel so ashamed about it where you just want to cry, and Fresh just covers him with a blanket and sits next to him so Lust feels safe having someone he trusts nearby so he's not so vulnerable. Lust doesn't have very many of those people, and I think it'd be great for him to have someone he's 100% sure won't take advantage of him.

I have so much more I want to talk about with this that I can't fit into this post since it's already so long, BUT DO YOU SEE THE VISION???

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Tyre Change

Requested: yup

Prompt: Teammate Max (a request I'm getting a lot)

Warnings: slight teammate bickering

"Oh what the fuck?" Y/n asked as she stepped out of her car, staring at the front wheel, the steam practically pouring off it from the sheer heat of it. "What the fuck am I meant to do?" She whispered to herself. She was in Monaco so she couldn't call her dad or brother to come help like usual.

On a moonlit night in Monaco, up in the mountains borderline middle of nowhere, Y/n found herself stranded with a flat tire. Frustration etched across her face, she heard footsteps approaching. To her surprise, Max had emerged from the shadows. His car had stopped right next to hers, with the window rolled down to talk to her. "Hi." She replied with a fake smile. As Max approached, he couldn't resist a playful remark. "Looks like your car can't handle the pressure. Nice to see not much changes during the off season." Y/n rolled her eyes, retorting. "Don't act like you've never had a flat, Max. And I handle pressure just fine, thank you." Max smirked. "We'll see about that. So have you called a breakdown service?" He asked. Y/n shook her head. "Why?" Max asked. "It'd cost me an arm and a leg out here! I was actually hoping a fan would just pop up and offer their services for free and it seems like my biggest fan is here." Max chuckled as Y/n smiled at him. "Let me show you how it's done." Max said, grabbing the tyre change tools from the boot of his car. "

"I- I can't change the tyre." She said. "That's okay. I didn't know how to until I was like 18? My dad nearly-" Y/n stopped him right there. "No, I know how to, I just don't have a spare wheel." Max looked at her, almost shocked. "Why?" Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "Well I have a tyre repair kit instead." Max stood up again from inspecting the tyre and practically towered over his teammate. "Why?" Max asked again. "Because when we were given the cars, I ticked the tyre repair kit instead." Y/n explained. "Why didn't you tick both?" Y/n's eyes widened. "You could tick both?" Max laughed and nodded. "Yes?" His teammate groaned and kicked a pebble on the ground. "Oh for fucks sake."

Max, not one to pass up a challenge, offered his assistance with a smirk. "Well, since we have the same car, I'll give you my spare tyre and I'll go get a new one in the factory. How's that sound?" Max asked. Y/n, reluctant yet intrigued, accepted his help. "Right, let's get to work."

As they worked under the dim glow of a streetlamp, banter flowed effortlessly between them. Max's playful jabs and Y/n's sharp retorts created a dance of words in the night air. "Grab the spare tyre." Max said as he used the jack to lift the car up. Y/n nodded and ran over to his car, trying to lift it but finding it difficult due to it basically being in a casing. "Oh don't tell me you can deal eith G-Force but can't lift a tyre!" Max joked as he heard Y/n struggling. Y/n scoffed, attempting to lift the spare. "I'd like to see you do this!" Challenge accepted, Max agreed to swap places with her. "Alright." Max stood up and walked over to the boot, lifting it. It seemed so easy when he did it. He smirked and began rolling the tyre over to her car.

Between lug nuts and tyre irons, they discovered shared interests and common ground. The tension of rivals shifted to the camaraderie of allies. As the tyre spun off, Max teased. "Maybe you should consider keeping a pit crew in your boot." Max joked. Laughter echoed across the quiet road as they exchanged stories, the rivalry softening into a genuine connection.

Underneath the star-studded sky, Max and Y/n shared a moment of understanding. She reminded him him much of himself when he was younger; stubborn and determined. The tire replaced, Max couldn't resist a teasing grin. With the tire securely in place, Y/n turned to her teammate. "I never thought I'd say this, but thanks, Max. I guess you're not as unbearable as you seem." Y/n smiled. "Guess I'm not your worst teammate after all." He remarked. Y/n, rolled her eyes. "Don't let it get to your head, Verstappen." She mumbled. Max winked, playfully nudging her. "See, I knew you'd warm up to me eventually. Now, if you ever need a pit stop, you know where to find me."

Their exchange shifted from rivalry to camaraderie, laughter mingling with the night air. Max's hands-on lesson transformed into a Canon event, turning enemies into reluctant allies. "Well, I'll make it up to you somehow. I promise." Y/n said. "Eh, a coffee will do but I'm not very picky about being paid back. I think it's payback enough that you're always behind me in race weekends." Max joked, making Y/n laugh gently. "Touché." The pair walked back back their respective cars, before they drove off into the night, the shared adventure left an unexpected bond between them – a connection forged on a roadside under the stars.

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Hello! I’m new to the demon slayer fandom and I’m in love with the upper moons (specifically Douma and Akaza) haha.

I was wondering if I could have some headcanons for each of the upper moons + Muzan and what their s/o would be like? Like personality wise, what would their s/o act like, or what would make them fall for their s/o? If that makes sense?

Thank you very much! If you don’t feel comfortable writing that, that’s totally fine! I really enjoy your writing!!

Their type♡

AS YOU SHOULD!! I've been in the Fandom for so long I'm glad more ppl are loving the upper moons omg. Also thank you so much!! Hope u like this one♡♡♡

Warnings: mention of manga spoilers, gender natural reader, mention of killing

Akaza

Akaza type of s/o is someone who's kind and gentle. Having a person or even a demon show akaza genuine kindness wasn't always on his side even as a human, so he seeks out someone who can give him genuine kindness and have a gentle approach and not a hostile one.

Akaza's love language is acts of service. He wants to take care of his s/o, protect them, and be there for them mentally and physically. A love language he'd want in his s/o are words of affirmation

Akaza loves to be told he's appreciated for the things he does, praised and even admired for what he does.

Akaza falls for his s/o because he admires their strength. Man or woman doesn't matter, He hates weak humans and finds them better off dead and would gladly do it himself but when meeting his s/o for the first time in a fight they never gave up and saying powerful words like "my weakness of being human is what makes you strong"

Akaza can't help but love a strong human, and finding an s/o is strong is definitely the way to make him catch his heart

Douma

Douma hasn't really given it much thought on what he likes in his s/o personality, but one thing douma happens to get in everyone around him is someone who's more straightforward and direct.

Douma maybe all jokes and giggles and not seem to have a care in the world but he likes to have a person in his life who can clarify mistakes and even call out his own even if it makes him upset.

Doumas love language is gift giving. He'll listen to the things his s/o likes and will buy or even try to craft the things his s/o likes and give gifts at random. A love language he'd like in his s/o is someone who can communicate which can fall under quality time

Douma deep down needs a person to sit down and understand him even if his words and mindset can be unusual but even so he wants to know there's someone out there who can love douma for his flaws of having a lack of understanding feelings

Douma falls for his s/o because of how understanding they can be and can solve out a problem logically without bashing him or judging him.

Kokushibo

Kokushibo's type of s/o is someone like him, but also have a humorish side to them. Someone who is mature and relaxed but also doesn't mind when his s/o wants to tease or bother him

Kokushibo's love language is quality time. A love language he'd want in his s/o would be physical touch

Kokushibo is a quiet man. He only speaks unless spoken to, most of kokushibo and his s/o times together, whether they're both on night walks or even sitting in the same room, no talking always needs to be involved, just kokushibo having his s/o by his side holding his hand or hugging him is enough

Kokushibo falls for his s/o because they genuinely enjoy his company. Despite him being the strongest upper moon even he needs someone to stay by his side and not find him boring or toss him aside for someone eles

Muzan

Muzan's type of s/o is someone who is submissive. Someone who follows what he says down to the letter and not question any of his decisions. Muzan's tone of voice wouldn't change with his s/o and speak to them like how speaks to others but would sometimes have a more gentle approach, depending on the situation

Muzan would want an s/o whose love language is expression of affection and love. He expects to be loved and admired from his s/o and have his s/o show how their love for him also comes with loyalty. Muzan loves when his s/o kisses his hand when he's achieved something, hugs when you complement how healthy and strong he looks every day

Muzan's love language is physical touch. As scary and dominant as he can be, when it's time for him to lay down or even sleep, he wants to have his s/o in his arms. If he's having a meeting with his upper ranks, he won't allow his s/o leave but instead sit his s/o on his lap with his hand on his s/o waist while having the meeting.

Muzan fell his s/o because of their understanding of his fear of death. He knew he was a coward and how brutal he could be to save his own skin, but someone who could somehow understand his twisted ways made him his heart skip a beat

Nakime

Nakime's type of s/o is someone who is artistic and passionate about it. Nakime isn't picking with arts, but her s/o just has to be into some kinda arts like herself to bond over it

Nakime's love language is quality time, and she'd want an s/o whose love language also loves quality time. She would want someone to listen to her biwa playing and acknowledge her for her musical skills rather than her blood demon art for just being useful to muzan.

Nakime would like if her s/o is talkative. Someone who keeps the conversation going when she wants to talk about her interests and even listen to her s/o interests.

Nakime fell for her s/o because they wanted to hear her music. It is Canon that Nakime used to make music in her past life as a human, so when you listened to her music and praised her talents it made her it made her fall in love instantly

[chiffon-and-spice]

RE HC's: Attachment Style, Love Languages

(Keep in mind these are literally all HC's and if you disagree, it's not cannon so don't get your dick in a twist. This is literally just how I see the characters. Most are bisexual because… it just feels fitting to me. Idk. If you don't see a character here that you'd like me to do, please let me know.)

Characters in this Post: Rebecca Chambers, Billy Coen, Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Leon Kennedy, Claire Redfield, Ada Wong, and Carlos Oliveira. (if you'd like a character not mentioned here done, feel free to ask <3)

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Rebecca Chambers-

Sexuality: Bi/Demi-sexual

Zodiac: Virgo

Love Language: Becca definitely expresses her love through acts of service. She may not be all that great at expressing herself through words, and being busy with work allows her little time to be close to you in person. She will do little things like fold your clothes if they're still in the dryer, make your bed, do those chores you aren't looking forward to, and so much more. She loves the idea of helping make your life a little more easier. When it comes to being shown love however, Rebecca loves words of affirmation. She thrives best when you give her hella love and reassurance. Not being good with words, she admires how freely you can talk about your feelings for her. It literally lights up her soul.

Attachment Style: Despite a lot of the struggles Rebecca has been through, she's pretty secure in herself and the relationships she gets in. Even though she struggles with her words, she's super effective at communicating her feelings when it comes to issues. Rebecca is also really good at self-reflection and will work on herself in all the places she falters, to ensure you two have the most healthy dynamic. She's super trusting of you, and does not hesitate to give out reassurance if you ask.

Billy Coen-

Sexuality: Bisexual

Zodiac: Taurus

Love Language: Billy expresses his love through physical touch. Whether it be through gentle caresses or playful pokes and punches, he lovesss touching you in any way. He can't seem to keep his hands off of you. You go out, he will kick you playfully under the table, and in the morning he's the one to cling to you and not want you to get out of bed. Morning sex is a given with him. He loves to make you feel good, and he feels best when he's touching you. When it comes to being shown love, Billy is a big fan of quality time. He doesn't care what it is you're doing, he wants to be close. You have to go to the grocery store to do some mundane task, nothing makes him more excited than you inviting him to go. He especially loves when you take time off of work or other things to be with him. Knowing you took time out of your day and your life to make room for him makes his day.

Attachment Style: Billy hasn't had the best of luck in the relationship department, especially with his past, and it makes him weary of who to trust. He's got an anxious attachment style, and while he craves love he's also terrified it isn't genuine. Billy can be super clingy at points, and sometimes struggles when you don't seem to have time for him. He needs constant reassurance, that you're for him and only him. He realizes this about himself, and always makes sure to tell you before you start dating. When given reassurance, he is the happiest boy, and he will never tire of you showing him just how much you love him.

Albert Wesker-

Sexuality: Pansexual (this is actually not a stretch as his VA played him as a queer man Link

Zodiac: Aries

Love Language: Albert expresses his love through giving gifts. Bro is not good with words and not a fan of being touched. But if he's sees something that reminds him of you, he will absolutely get it. He will shower you in gifts. You mention needing a new set of pens to take notes, he's already half-way to the store, buying the specific ball-point or gel pens you require. Working late, he's stopping by your workplace with food from your favorite place. Have a favorite show or little obession, he will buy anything for you that relates to said thing. When it comes to being given love, Albert loves acts of service. When you do things for him, it makes his life a lot easier. Especially if it's something he's not looking forward to. Nothing impresses him more than you doing something for him, when he didn't even have to ask for it.

Attachment Style: Albert 1,000% has disorganized attachment. One minute you think he's absolutely into you, and the next he is running for the hills. He's terrified of rejection, but also craves acceptance. Albert sometimes completely shuts down and doesn't talk to you about his concerns with the relationship. A lot of the time, even he doesn't know why he's being distant. It doesn't seem to matter how good you treat him, he always has anxiety about your relationship, but if you're super patient with him he can be the most tender and loving soul you can have. Often the relationship may be confusing, and Albert doesn't really talk about his feelings. Sometimes, he can even be a little aggressive and lash out, but he always apologizes and begs for you to stay.

Chris Redfield-

Sexuality: Bisexual/Demiromantic (takes bro a lot to be romantically into you)

Zodiac: Scorpio

Love Language: Chris expresses his love through acts of service, man struggles with words like Wesker and physical touch can be too much for him sometimes. But occupying himself with things to do that'll make you happy is how he loves showing you his love. He can get physical every once in awhile, but he kinda does that with a lot of people, so it isn't exactly how he expresses his love. Doing things for you also allows him to express his love for you in a way that makes him feel comfortable. Like your coffee a certain way? Chris is working his ass off to make sure you get it. When it comes to being shown love Chris surprisingly likes words of affirmation. He can't speak for himself, so when you talk about how you feel it makes him weak. He wants more than anything to be able to speak the way you do, and that's why he appreciates when you do it so well. Using your words sometimes can be a bit much for him, and makes him want to pull away, but in the long run he does find comfort in them.

Attachment Style: Chris has an avoidant attachment style. He feels like he has to go through everything on his own, and if he isn't strong enough to do it by himself then it makes him feel weak. He can seem extremely emotionally closed off at points, which makes it difficult to communicate effectively with him. He has a bit of a negative mentality, that relationships aren't necessary and he does best on his own. Good luck getting him to talk about his feelings, because this man is closed up tighter than a shell. Most of his relationships have been in the casual/one-night stand area. Chris is the first to walk off during an argument, and can definitely hold a grudge. Being patient with him is pretty rewarding however, as he apologizes after awhile. This is very hard for him, but when he cares about you, he will try to better himself.

Jill Valentine-

Sexuality: Bi/Greysexual

Zodiac: Libra

Love Language: When it comes to expressing her love, Jill loves spending time with you. She will take breaks from work, and when she works from home she will seek you out in the house. Even if it's sitting in silence, she wants to be by your side. She's very dedicated to her job, so she can't think of a better way to show you how much she cares than to distance herself from work. She loves physical touch, and nothing makes her feel more appreciated than when you touch her. Especially on the thighs or arms. It drives her wild. Underneath that badass exterior, she's a cuddly bunny. When walking around in public, and you throw your arm around her shoulders, she never feels more loved and secure. Even if she knows she can take care of herself, having you around makes her feel secure and comfortable.

Attachment Style: Despite being a bit obsessive with Umbrella, Jill has a bit more of a secure attachment style. The most issues you may have is maybe not getting her full attention at times, but she will quickly rectify it if you point it out. She's effective at communicating her wants and needs and really appreciates when her partner does the same thing. Like Rebecca, she is also kind of patient, but she won't tolerate certain behavior past a point. If she's making a big effort, she expects you to do the same. She's super understanding of your traumas and past however, and will do her best to help you. She also encourages you not to be codependent and overall just wants you both to grow as people.

Leon Kennedy-

Sexuality: Bisexual (bro fucks a ton after RE2)

Zodiac: Leo

Love Language: Leon expresses his love through physical touch. Bro is so touch starved, he gets his cuddles in any time he can. Practically clinging to you like a koala. He loves running his hands through your hair and being big spoon to you. He covers you in kisses to, if the skin is exposed, he's going for it. Big fan of hickeys to, and loves marking you in easy to see spots. He also loves recieving love this way. When you hold his hand in public, he still gets little butterflies. Pressing yourself a little more into him, when you guys are sleeping, is the hottest thing you can do for him. Practically melts from it. He loves rougher touches to. Like you running your nails down his back or biting his lips when you kiss.

Attachment Style: Leon has an anxious attachment style, and is terrified of getting close to people. Like most of the RE men it seems. 😭 Probably cause he's seen so much death. When he does start getting close, he struggles to let go. He can be suffocating at points, with how much he wants to be around you. He wants to take every second in, because he's so paranoid about it being your last together. While Leon doesn't communicate his feelings verbally, you can easily read when things are off and after a bit of work he may reluctantly open a little. He's very hard to crack. Leon is very efficient at asking about your feelings however, and will gladly hear all of your problems. Somehow, despite not knowing how to fix his only problems, he always seems to have solutions for yours.

Claire Redfield-

Sexuality: Lesbian (cry about it)

Zodiac: Aquarius

Love Language: Claire is surprisingly great with words, and loves to show it. She expresses how she loves you through words of affirmation. She will tell you she loves you every single day, and she means it with all her heart. Claire is the type of partner to send you loving paragraphs before bed, and makes sure you get a goodmorning text every morning. She leaves sticky notes everywhere to when she thinks about it, with little things she loves about you. When it comes to being shown love however, Claire really enjoys quality time. Expressing that you want to actually spend time with her whenever you can means the world to her. Growing up with Chris, who's been very busy since she was a kid, she's always valued the little time she gets to spend with her loved ones.

Attachment Style: Claire learned a lot from Chris, which made her have the exact opposite attachment style as him. Being practically raised by him and having a good relationship with him, she's pretty secure in her attachments. Even when things get rough, she's always understanding and holds out hope. Claire has always been good at being self-sufficient, so she doesn't need to be around you 24/7 or hear from you constantly. Doubts don't really get a hold of her in your relationship, and she's super easy to connect and be vulnerable with. She'll even talk about her own personal experiences just to make you feel more comfortable.

Ada Wong-

Sexuality: Bisexual

Zodiac: Gemini

Love Language: Ada never explicitly states what or how she's feeling, she's very much a woman of action. This is why she expresses her love through physical touch. Though she's not entirely clingy with it. If you're around, it could be as simple as her feet across your lap, while you watch tv. When it comes to physical touch for her, it's not the soft little gently caresses you're used to. She likes to be rough, and she will not hesitate to pounce on you. When it comes to being shown love, Ada enjoys receiving gifts. Not being given things too frequently, it means the world to her when her partners comes to her with something they bought specifically because it reminded them of her. Hell, even if it's not something she quite understands or likes, she will try to play it cool while freaking out on the inside. Despite Ada's distant exterior, she's definitely an absolute softie.

Attachment Style: Girl has got disorganized attachment style, one hundo percent. She's hot and cold with anyone she's with, and you always second guess just how she feels about you. You convince yourself that it's part of the fun, and the second you start to distance yourself as well, she's showing right back up. Ada feels undeserving of a healthy relationship, so when she gets a good thing her first instinct is to flee. Being that she isn't entirely true to herself and is always putting up a mask, it's hard for her to make genuine connections. Ada is sick of the mask however, and is so desperately ready to let it drop and be loved. Once you have her, even if it feels like you don't, you're stuck with her. She will harass you for the rest of your life, and play it off as anything but an interest in you.

Carlos Oliveira-

Sexuality: Bisexual (he came out to me in character ai, so practically cannon)

Zodiac: Saggittarius

Love Language: Carlos loves spending time with his partner. When it comes to his work, he doesn't get a lot of free time, so the best way he expresses his love by using what little he does have with you. Hell, he'd take time off just to be with you. Despite being a massive flirt, when things get serious he isn't the best at expressing himself in a way that isn't lighthearted or teasing. So instead he shows it, by dropping everything just to be around you, if you so please. During his breaks, he stops by your workplace whether it be to give you a little kiss or something more. He checks up on you with facetime calls frequently, when he's away and can't stand when work pulls him away from you. When it comes to being shown love however, Carlos very much likes things to be physical. Anyone can say words, he knows this more than anyone being the huge flirty whore (affectionately) he is, but to actually act on these things sends his heart soaring. And not just sex, though Carlos is very fond of that aspect to, he's more into the careful and intimate touches. Being hugged from behind, soft kisses along his neck, you playing with his hair, he practically folds over it.

Attachment Style: Weirdly enough, Carlos is pretty secure in his attachments, though I think he's cautious about entering a committed relationship with someone. He doesn't just feel that kind of love with anyone, and when things do go beyond flirting and hook ups, you know you've got something special with him. Carlos might not be the best with words, but he's an amazing listener and will gladly listen to whatever possible issues that may arise between you two. Even if he struggles with how to put things into words, he tries his best to open up with you as well. Carlos's work has always kept him pretty occupied, so he's never really felt too wound up about being away from his partner or having to put some healthy distance between you to. If you can work with his pretty hectic schedule, he will gladly work with you. Carlos is also a super gentle lover when no one is looking. All his rough talk and flirts are definitely for show, and the second you start getting a little bit serious with him, he gets flustered.

[libraryofgage]

Hashah Tovah! It's Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and there's no such thing as too much Jewish Steve in my book (that being said, this story isn't about the New Year, it's about Shabbat hfjdks)

Also, I'm gonna be honest, this fic is a love letter to Judaism and my experiences with my temple and the people there. My experiences aren't universal, though, so please don't take anything here as, like, the end-all-be-all of Judaism. If you have questions about anything here, you can ask me; I'll be happy to answer ^_^

The time period is also very loose. Upside Down happened, but some of the attitudes are probably a bit more modern. Honestly, I suggest just shutting off your brain and enjoying the story lmao

CW: vague mentions of antisemitism and homophobia

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't

(also this is like 4k so buckle in bois)

----

Steve's car has officially given up on life. Honestly, he's surprised it even managed to live this long. For all it's been through, it probably deserves some rest and TLC. Steve just wishes it could have demanded that rest and TLC on any other day.

Because it's Friday. Because it's Shabbat. Because he's about to have a mob of concerned elderly members of his temple crowding his door if he doesn't go to services tonight, and that's not something he wants his neighbors to see.

He considers calling Robin, but she won't be much help. She might be his Emergency Goy, but she doesn't have a car. Now that he's thinking about it, Robin may not be the best Emergency Goy, not that he'd ever tell her that.

He knows one other person with a car, of course, but that means he has to call Eddie. Not that Steve has anything against him, of course, but Eddie makes him feel a lot of things that he's not quite ready to confront just yet.

Steve frowns, staring at the phone for a long moment, trying to come up with any other option.

Steve comes up empty.

Shit.

He takes a deep breath and takes the phone off the receiver, slowly punching in the numbers as though he'll suddenly have an epiphany before he's finished dialing.

Unfortunately, he doesn't, and the phone is now ringing. It rings twice before getting picked up, Eddie's familiar voice saying, "You've reached Casa de Munson. The fuck do you want?"

"Do you always answer the phone like that?" Steve asks, momentarily forgetting about the favor he was planning to ask.

He hears Eddie hum and can practically picture the way he's now leaning against the wall next to the phone, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Stevie. What, pray tell, has you calling me?" he asks.

Steve almost hangs up. This is already stressful for him. What if Eddie doesn't agree? Worst, what if he does? Wouldn't that mean Eddie is going to see a part of himself that nobody but Robin has seen? That's fucking terrifying. What if Eddie suddenly hates him?

"I, uh, I need a favor," Steve admits.

"What kind of favor?"

If he wanted, Steve could just lie. It wouldn't be his first time lying about Friday plans. "My car won't start," Steve says, hesitating for a second more before continuing, "and I need a ride to the next town tonight."

"Gee, Harrington, get invited to a party?" Eddie asks, a slight edge to his voice that Steve can't quite place.

"What? No. I...it's not a party, okay? This is really important to me, man. Can you give me a ride or should I ask someone else?"

Maybe Hopper or Joyce would have enough time to give him a ride. He just needs to be dropped off. Getting back...can be a bridge he crosses when he comes to it.

"What time would we be getting back?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve from his thoughts.

"Probably after nine. And we need to be there at six, so that means leaving here no later than five," Steve says, trying to ignore the growing hope and sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. "I know it's really last minute, but you could spend the night at my place after. If you want."

"Will it be fun?"

"Uh, maybe? I don't know, man, it kinda depends. I find it fun, but you might get...bored," Steve says. Or offended. Maybe infuriated? Maybe betrayed that this is a whole part of Steve's life he's never hinted at.

"You're being real mysterious about all this, big boy."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just hard to explain."

"Well, lucky for you, I'm bored and curious."

----

On the drive, Eddie keeps trying to figure out where Steve is directing him. He keeps asking questions, Steve keeps dodging them, and that feeling of inevitable dread keeps growing.

Of course, all that dodging is rendered obsolete as Eddie pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the van. A few families are walking into the temple, some parents glancing curiously at the unfamiliar van, some glancing suspiciously, and some too distracted by kids to notice.

"Uh, are you sure this is the place?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly as he looks at the temple and then at Steve.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, his hands nervously gripping the material of his sweater. "I'm Jewish," he blurts out, feeling his face burning. When a few seconds pass without any response, he burns holes into a tree outside and adds, "It's Friday night services. Shabbat. I've missed too many because of...you know. The, um, the Rabbi called and asked if I was okay, and I promised to be at services tonight. You don't have to stay if you don't feel comfortable."

"You don't look Jewish."

Steve tenses, jerking his head to look at Eddie. There's no malice in his eyes. No suspicion, either, thankfully. He just looks...confused. "What's a Jew supposed to look like?" Steve asks in return, wondering if Eddie even knows that he's toeing the edge of the antisemitic swimming pool.

Eddie opens his mouth before closing it again. "Uh...I don't know, actually. Just...not you, I guess?"

Okay. Yeah. Steve can deal with this. He forces himself to relax. "Well, Jews come in all shapes and sizes," he says. He hesitates before deciding to get a burning question out of the way. "Are you angry?"

"What the fuck would I be angry about?"

"That I didn't tell you. That I was Jewish. To be fair, only Robin knows."

Eddie shakes his head, turning in his seat to face Steve. "No, Stevie, I'm not angry. I mean, I live in Hawkins, too. Not exactly the place to be standing out unless you wanna get accused of murder."

Despite himself, Steve can't help snorting at that. He takes a deep breath, the last bit of tension leaving his shoulders. "Well, uh, do you want to stay for services?" he asks.

"Can I? I'm not Jewish. And I'm dressed like this," Eddie says, gesturing at his clothes.

A Hellfire Club shirt, denim vest, gaudy rings, and dark jeans. It's incredibly Eddie, and something about it reassures Steve. He says, "You're with me, so not being Jewish is fine. And your clothes are okay, too. It's not formal."

"My shirt literally says Hellfire."

"Well, it's a good thing Judaism doesn't really have a hell."

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds, clearly full of questions, but then he just nods and climbs out of the van. Steve blinks and scrambles out as well, wanting to create some kind of buffer between Eddie and the congregation members who see a stranger and instantly become defensive.

The moment he's shut the door, he hears a little kid shout excitedly, "Steve!"

He whirls around in time to see a young girl rush across the parking lot, much to the shock and concern of her guardian. Thankfully, there aren't any cars, so the girl is unimpeded in her rush to Steve.

Eddie comes around the side of the van just in time to see the girl launch herself at Steve, giggling when he lifts her up and spins. "Yael! Have you gotten bigger?" he asks, smiling brightly as he comes to a stop and sets her on his waist.

Yael returns his smile with a grin of her own, tilting her head up so he can clearly see the brand-new gap in her teeth. "I lost a tooth! See? It came out last week," she tells him, practically bouncing in his arms.

By now, Yael's grandfather has reached them, smiling indulgently. "Yael," he says, his voice gentle but firm, "you know better than to run across parking lots." When she mumbles an apology, he looks at Steve, his smile turning warm. "Steve, it's been a few weeks. I'm glad to see you again, and you've even brought a friend."

Steve returns the smile and nods, shifting closer to Eddie. "Yeah, things got a little...chaotic in Hawkins. Oh. Mr. Adler, this is Eddie Munson. Eddie, Elijah Alder."

Mr. Adler's eyes light up, and Steve suddenly remembers something incredibly embarrassing. "Oh?" he says, looking at Eddie with renewed interest, "So this is the famous Eddie Munson? I'm glad to see you've healed well."

Eddie blinks, glancing at Steve. "Uh, thanks. How'd you know?"

"Steve asked the Rabbi to include you during the Mi Shebeirach."

"The Misha what now?"

"Mi Shebeirach," Steve says, gently nudging Eddie with his elbow. "It's a prayer for healing."

Mr. Adler nods once, his eyes practically dancing with new gossip. "Oh, yes, you've created quite the stir among the Sisterhood, you know. They have a backlog of Mi Shebeirach cards and nowhere to send them."

Steve translates that information as "the old ladies have been dying to know who this mysterious Eddie Munson is, so Steve had better brace himself." His smile becomes a little strained. "Well, let's get it over with, then."

Mr. Adler nods and gestures for Steve and Eddie to follow as he leads them toward the temple. While they walk, Yael looks at Eddie, her eyes wide. "Why is your hair so long?" she asks.

"Cuz I like it that way."

"Oh. Why are you wearing rings?"

"Because they're cool."

"Oh. Why did you need healing?"

"I was hurt really bad."

"Oh. By what?"

"A bear."

"Oh. Are you Steve's friend?"

Eddie glances at Steve, meeting his eyes for a brief second before smiling at Yael. "Yeah, Stevie and I are best friends."

Yael smiles right back. "Steve is my best friend, too! He's super strong and can carry me without getting tired and makes the best hamentaschen at Purim!"

"Yael," Mr. Adler says, cutting off any continuation of the conversation as they reach the doors of the temple. "Why don't you go let the Rabbi know Steve has joined us?"

Her entire face lights up with joy. "Okay!" she shouts, wiggling in Steve's arms until he lets her down. She tugs open the door, straining until Steve smiles and helps her. "Thanks! Bye, Steve!"

With that, she dashes into the temple, her voice carrying Steve's name into the room full of other people. When almost all of them, including three children that Steve can see, stop what they're doing and look over at the door, Mr. Adler says from behind Steve and Eddie, "Brace yourselves, my boys. The wolves have appeared."

Steve groans as Mr. Adler pushes them both inside. "Should I be worried?" Eddie whispers, leaning in closer to Steve as the door shuts behind them.

"I apologize in advance," Steve tells him.

Despite his words, he has a large grin as the three kids shout his name and rush over, much like Yael did. They're followed by a few teenagers and their parents. The kids pounce on Steve, two holding onto his biceps and hanging from them as he raises his arms while the third clings to his leg.

"Where ya been?" one of the teens asks, her hair pulled back into a ponytail so permed it looks ready to burst.

"Yeah, man, I've been manning the oneg table by myself," another teen says, his arms crossed over a Metallica shirt. He's got piercings climbing up one ear and through an eyebrow, and his gaze moves to Eddie as he speaks, taking in the other boy. "Who's this?"

"Yeah," another girl asks, smiling at Eddie and batting her eyes in a way that makes even Steve feel uncomfortable, "who's your friend, Steve?"

"Kids," an older woman says, pushing her way through them, "you know better than to crowd. Shouldn't you be passing out prayer books right now?" Once she's managed to shoo the teens away, she turns her gaze on the children still clinging to Steve. "And you three, I heard Mrs. Rost needs help in the kitchen. Something about there being too many cookies to platter all by herself."

Steve suddenly finds himself weightless as the kids abandon him, dashing down the hall toward the kitchen. He smiles with slight relief and looks at the woman. "Thanks," he says, rolling his shoulders.

"Of course, Steve. Now, who's your friend?" she asks, looking Eddie up and down curiously.

"Oh, right. Uh. Rabbi, this is Eddie Munson. Eddie, this is Rabbi Sara. I, um, I was hoping he could sit in on services tonight?"

Rabbi Sara immediately smiles at them. She holds out her hand to Eddie, shaking firmly when he returns the gesture. "Of course! I'm glad to see you're doing better, Eddie. We've been a bit worried about you here," she says. She glances around before leaning in and conspiratorially whispering, "There's a betting pool on whether his name would be added to the Mourner's Kiddish."

Steve snorts, knowing exactly which members would have started that bet. "Yeah, well, tell Diane and Yakov they've lost."

Rabbi Sara barely holds back her laughter, nodding once as she lets go of Eddie's hand. "Well, how about I spare you boys from socializing more," she offers.

When Steve nods, she gestures for them to follow her, leading the way to the sanctuary. He glances at Eddie as they walk, taking in the way he's tugging on a lock of hair and looking at the hall around them. "You doing okay?" Steve whispers, leaning in closer.

Eddie glances at him, is silent for a few minutes, and then says, "It's a lot to take in."

"Service will be easier. Lots of music. You'll like it," Steve promises, smiling reassuringly at Eddie. He hesitates before adding, "And if you want to leave, just let me know. The important part was making sure people saw I wasn't dead."

That's not entirely true. Steve doesn't want to leave the Shabbat service. He misses the routine of it and the feeling of togetherness as everyone sings. But Eddie's comfort is taking precedence here; he's already given Steve a ride and has begun subjecting himself to Steve's nosy congregation. Leaving early if he gets overwhelmed is the least Steve can do, really.

The teen in the Metallica shirt, Sam, holds out two prayer books when Rabbi Sara leads them to the sanctuary doors. His gaze lingers on Eddie for a few seconds more before asking, "Dude, do I know you?"

Eddie blinks and raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. Do you?"

Their gazes hold for nearly a minute before Sam's eyes widen and light with recognition. Steve is bracing himself for the worst (you know, devil worshipper, accused murderer, wannabe criminal, take your pick). Instead, Sam grins and says, "Yeah, I totally do! You're in that band, yeah? The one that plays at Hideout sometimes? Corroded Coffin. Your music is metal, man."

Eddie returns Sam's grin, throwing an arm over his shoulders and leaning in close. "You know, you're alright. Always happy to meet a fan. What's your favorite song?"

"You played that new one last Saturday. Bats, I think. It spoke to me, man."

Steve stares at Eddie, wondering how he missed the fact that Corroded Coffin started playing gigs again. A curl of something like regret or maybe hurt begins to build in his stomach, and he's almost overtaken by it when Eddie nods and says, "Oh, yeah, that one's about Stevie."

"Oohh, dude, that makes so much sense now."

"You wrote a song about me?" Steve asks, successfully regaining Eddie's attention.

Apparently, Eddie sort of forgot he was there. His relaxed posture becomes a little awkward, and he removes his arm from Sam's shoulder. He clears his throat, tugging a lock of hair in front of his mouth as he says, "Yeah. Is, uh, is that a problem?"

"No," Steve says, feeling a reassuring smile tug at his lips, "but you should play it for me sometime."

"This is all very touching," a voice says behind them, "but can you take the flirting inside the sanctuary? We still need our prayer books."

Steve jolts and looks behind them, laughing awkwardly when he sees Rivkah, a woman in her early 30s, and her partner, Tamar. "Sorry," he says, grabbing Eddie's arm and dragging him through the doors.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie whispers, allowing himself to be pulled over to some chairs near the left corner of the sanctuary, "is everything okay? Like...are we...safe?"

It takes a moment for Steve to understand what Eddie means. Like, of course, he can't guarantee their safety. It's a synagogue. Every person here old enough to understand the world knows the risk, the potential for one person to show up and wreak utter destruction. Steve is about to say as much (and explain the temple's "worst case scenario" game plan) when he notices Eddie glancing at Rivkah and Tamar.

A light bulb practically clicks on above him, and he almost laughs at himself. He sits down and tugs Eddie into the seat next to him. "Yeah, we're safe, Eds," he promises, smiling softly when Eddie looks at him. "Rivkah and Tamar are married. I attended the ceremony. It was very nice. Tamar broke the glass."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly, and he looks around the sanctuary with renewed interest. His gaze especially lingers on the people that file in, taking in the couples and families and groups that wouldn't make much sense outside the temple's doors. Steve is content to let him look, allowing himself to relax back into the seat and wait.

After almost 15 minutes, Rabbi Sara approaches the bema and smiles at everyone. "Good evening, and Shabbat Shalom," she says, nodding along as her greeting is returned. "I'm glad to see so many familiar faces tonight. And some new ones. The week has been long for some of us, but it's now come to an end, and we have gathered to celebrate its end, another week's beginning, and being together. Now, please open your books to page 47 for the L'cha Dodi."

Steve flips open his book as Anna, the cantor and the same girl who tried to flirt with Eddie, starts playing the guitar next to Rabbi Sara. "Uh, the book is backward," Eddie whispers, leaning close to Steve.

"Hebrew is written right to left," Steve explains, taking Eddie's book and opening it to the right page. "Also, don't worry about singing along. Just try to follow. If you don't know where we are, just nudge me. I'll point you to the right spot."

Eddie nods, looking almost overwhelmed, but Rabbi Sara starts singing before Steve can reassure him verbally. Instead, he just shifts so their shoulders are pressed together, flashing a tiny smile when Eddie looks at him before joining the rest of the congregation in singing.

Steve has to point Eddie at the right line a few times, but he doesn't mind. He's memorized the prayer by now, and the book is really just for show. He pulls Eddie up with the rest of the congregation during the L'cha Dodi, turns him to the sanctuary doors, and places a hand on his back to gently nudge him into a bow. Eddie blinks through it, following along but seeming overwhelmed by the entire process. When the prayer is finished and Rabbi Sara invites them to greet each other, Steve looks at Eddie with a smile (one of the most genuine smiles he's had in weeks), holds out his hand, and says, "Shabbat Shalom, Eddie."

Eddie doesn't hesitate to take his hand, leaning in close and returning the smile. "Shabbat Shalom?" he asks, speaking slowly to test the words and let Steve approve of the pronunciation. When Steve nods, Eddie's smile grows wider, and he whispers, "Shabbat Shalom, sweetheart."

That...that's a new nickname. And Steve doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe Eddie just wanted the pseudo-alliteration, but his smile says otherwise, and Steve feels like he's frozen in place.

And then a few of the kids dash over to him, shouting, "Shabbat Shalom!" at the top of their lungs and practically fighting to shake his hand first. Steve would feel honored if he didn't know they raced to beat each other to every adult.

After greeting, they light the candles. After lighting the candles, Rabbi Sara leads them into the next prayer, the rest of the service flowing smoothly with her as their guide.

The service is (beautifully, wonderfully, incredibly, thankfully) the same as always. Prayers are sung, and Steve can practically feel them in his bones. He's never been particularly religious (his mother would say they're more culturally Jewish than anything else), but he can't deny that the sound of over 50 people, young and old and in-between, singing together is an otherworldly experience.

They are singing a language that only a few of them actually know how to speak. Steve is reading a language that he wouldn't recognize outside of the prayer book. It's disconcerting as always, but also special, because he shares in the ignorance and devotion wrapped into singing words he wouldn't understand without the book's translation on the opposite page.

The Mi Shebeirach and the Mourner's Kiddish are Steve's sign that service is almost over. And for the first time in forever, Steve doesn't speak any names when Rabbi Sara calls for them. He sinks back into his seat, an unfamiliar relief easing tension he didn't even know he had anymore. But it's true. Everyone is fine, and they've all healed, and Steve no longer has to say Max's name or Will's or Hopper's or Eddie's. He no longer has to dodge questions or call up the Rabbi and ask her to include an extra name in the service.

And this realization, the sheer relief he feels at the simple act of staying quiet when Rabbi Sara's gaze sweeps past him, is almost enough to bring him to tears. His throat gets tight, his eyes burn, and his voice almost cracks when he joins the rest of the congregation in singing for those in need of healing and those who have passed.

Eddie nudges him gently, and Steve glances at him and then at their shared armrest. Eddie's hand is lying palm-up, a silent invitation, and Steve doesn't hesitate to accept. He slips his hand into Eddie's, interlocking their fingers, and feels infinitely better when Eddie squeezes his hand gently.

----

"So," Steve says, refraining from getting up as others file out of the sanctuary, practically tripping over kids racing to reach the oneg brownies first, "did you...like it?"

Eddie is silent for a few minutes, staring down at their hands. Steve almost pulls away, an apology ready on his tongue, when Eddie squeezes his hand tighter. "Yeah. It was...different. But good. I...there was more singing than I expected."

Steve grins, glancing up to see the sanctuary has mostly cleared, and stands. He pulls Eddie up with him. "Yeah, we sing most of our prayers. It's nice."

"It is," Eddie agrees, still looking a little lost for words.

Steve doesn't push. Instead, he pulls, leading Eddie out of the sanctuary. He gives their prayer books to Sam, grabs two tiny, sample-sized cups of Manischewitz wine, and gives one to Eddie. "Don't drink it yet," he says, nodding to where Rabbi Sara has her own cup and is waiting for the rest to be passed around.

Once everyone is ready, she blesses the wine, blesses the challah, and invites them all to drink and eat. Steve braces himself before knocking the wine back, the strong, warm grape flavor coating his tongue, vaguely reminiscent of cough medicine. He sees the same grimace on Eddie's face. "This is shit wine," Eddie whispers, his nose still scrunched as he tosses the cup into the trashcan like he can't get rid of it fast enough.

"Yeah. It's specifically for services," Steve says, "it's not supposed to be good."

"Right," Eddie mumbles, glancing at the oneg table, his eyes lingering on the desserts laid out. "Do you wanna stick around? You know, talk to people?"

Usually, Steve would. He likes catching up with the kids and teens, likes ganging up on them when their parents come around and playfully scold them, and he likes hearing the most recent temple gossip. But as he looks at Eddie, feels their hands still tightly holding onto each other, Steve finds he doesn't mind leaving early.

So, he leans in closer to Eddie and grins at him. "Or," he whispers, "we could steal an extra pack of brownies from the kitchen, sneak out the back, and eat them on the drive home."

Eddie returns the grin, amusement and eagerness practically dancing in his eyes, and says, "You read my mind, sweetheart."

Later, when Eddie pulls into Steve's driveway after an hour-long ride spent eating brownies, explaining different prayers, and telling him about old temple gossip, a different kind of tension will start to fester between them. Steve will delay getting out of the car, Eddie won't comment on it, and they'll slowly gravitate toward each other.

And they'll kiss. It will be awkward and taste like chocolate and end far too quickly, but it will be perfect.

Steve will pull away, a faint blush rising and his heart racing faster than it ever did with Nancy, and shyly offer to let Eddie spend the night. And Eddie will accept and spend the night and ask to attend Shabbat with Steve again and...

And so much more.

But for now, while he has no clue of the future that's about to start after an hour's drive, Steve glances around the crowded hall and pulls Eddie toward the kitchen.

After all, they've got brownies to steal.

[qqueenofhades]

I frankly sometimes feel like social media has ultimately given a lot of people the illusion of power, while also causing them to become corrupted in a similar way to traditional forms of power, only without any actual power that goes with it. The similarities in their behavior to the latter is disturbing as hell, ESPECIALLY given the horrid behavior of online types the past few months.

I really can't emphasize enough how much of a constructed and artificial environment social media is, especially these days, and especially the Social Media Platform Formerly Known as Twitter, which is still the main avenue by which a lot of people attempt to "do" social justice. Once upon a time, Twitter was a moderately beneficial public communication service because everyone and God was on it and you could therefore get communiques directly from the source, there was a blue-check verification service that actually helped you understand who was real and who was not, and while there were serious and ongoing flaws such as there is when useful public discourse is sacrificed on the Great Altar of Profit, there was at least some attempt to monitor or ban Nazis, white supremacists, bad actors, and eventually Trump himself. All of that changed and/or was directly destroyed when Apartheid Clyde took over and turned it into a revenue-generating service for Russian propaganda, alt-right cranks, bots, and the rest of the Elon Fanclub willing to pay $8 for a meaningless blue checkmark, while trashing the site's guardrails and any other useful features. It basically exists for Elon to fanboy Putin, Trump, white supremacy, his 4chan trolls, and anything else that makes his money (while Mr. Free Speech Absolutist arbitrarily bans anyone who hurts his man-child fee-fees). This is not an unbiased, neutral, or constructive environment to start with. You don't have any certainty about who you're interacting with or who is amplifying your messages, and only a hardcore-radicalized (of whatever persuasion) base of human users remain, while a lot of casual users have left.

As such, if you're basing anything (hypothesis, claim, source, evidence, opinion) on "what everyone on Twitter thinks," that is fatally flawed data to start with. Even at the peak of its popularity, something like 24% of all American adults regularly used Twitter. That still means 76% of the country who doesn't (and the number is larger now as Chucklefuck McGee has continued driving it into the ground). If you're forming your ideas or looking for "what America thinks" just by quoting or relying on the tweets of people who already agree with you, you've done basically nothing and you certainly haven't proved it, you've stunted your own critical thinking skills, and you are selecting from a data source that is already fatally poisoned and limited in any number of ways. Adding to the echo chamber of similar opinions on Twitter is not going to actually influence public policy or make lasting change. Yes, the interns and/or public relations staff of the public figures still on there will probably check the feed every so often and make note of things that come up, but couching it as mindless vitriolic abuse and/or demonstrably nonsensical things is not going to get back to their boss. It will just be ignored and/or given less weight in the limited space available for things that are deemed important enough to actually follow up on/make policy around.

Also, a lot of people saw Trump tweeting insane things at 3am for four years, and somehow decided that was actually how US/American presidential and governmental policy was made, rather than that he was a fucking narcissistic-personality-disorder psychopathic lunatic. But uh, and it should go without saying, it didn't work. Just because Trump posted something absolutely unhinged and announced it was now policy, that doesn't mean it was. Half the time he didn't even do so much as issue an executive order, those can be and regularly are challenged in courts, and so forth, because despite all its flaws, America is not an absolute monarchy where the king can rule by fiat and have it totally done, no questions, the end. That's also why Trump's second term would be even more dangerous than his first. In his first, he was flailing around and yelling on Twitter and not really paying attention to anything. In his second, the administration will be staffed top to bottom with dedicated fascists like the Heritage Foundation's Project 2025 people, who have spent the last four years brooding on revenge and drawing up detailed plans to actually co-opt and suborn all the levers, checks, balances, controls, and functions of government directly to Trump's personal will (and/or the outrageously evil people pulling strings behind the scenes, because Trump is now basically a gibbering orange vegetable and the media is still far too beholden to the Biden Old!!! narrative to accurately report this).

In short, another Trump term (God fucking forbid) would be run by the kind of methodical and careful evildoers who know that policy isn't made by tweet, and would act accordingly. That would be much, much harder to remove, counteract, or fix, it would almost certainly lead to the end of American democracy at least for most of our lifetimes, and the repercussions of that would be absolutely terrible. But because we still have people who act like Trump is somehow a preferable option, who think that it's bad that Biden is trying to work through established and long-term channels to make sustainable policy and not just get short-term chuckles from an internet dopamine approval rush, that is the risk we are running from now until November 2024. After that, either way, we'll know for sure: we'll finally have a measure of safety, or we will be comprehensively fucked for generations. We all have the power to influence which of those outcomes come to pass. I suggest we use it.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

More soft jmart headcanons from my little jmart mundane au! Mostly because I've finally begun my first fic for them and can't cram every single head canon I have into it

John is the cook in their little family, he learned how to make all kinds of dishes from his grandmother. She emigrated from India with his father and taught John how to cook all the traditional food she grew up with. He's very good at it, he likes having a task he can focus his mind on and just lose himself in. Martin loves his cooking, even if he is an absolute wimp when it comes to spice and John has to dial it back a lot for him. But Martin is the baker, he's a bit of a stress baker actually and if it's been rough at work, their little kitchen is full of cookies and bread and cakes. They have to start pawning them off on their friends at work.

After he gets his degree, Martin works his way up to become head of his own department. It's brand new, kind of an outreach branch of the Institute. The monsters and hellscapes the people make statements about may not be real in this AU but the problems in their lives are. He becomes head of the small department that gets them help, he forwards them on to rehab clinics or shelters or mental health services, they host support group meetings and do educational stuff. He's actually really good at it, even if it is stressful. He also finds out that all the other department heads in the Magnus Institute kind of can't stand his boyfriend...

This is a common one, given John's voice actor, but I love the head canon that John is a really good singer. They do karaoke for Tim's bachelor party and they manage to get just enough alcohol in him that he gets up on stage and just floors everyone. Martin's jaw is on the floor and his blush doesn't go away for hours. And when they have their little girl, she has really bad nightmares and John sings to help her sleep.

The things John's going through in season 5 are kicking my ass so I need to think about him just really enjoying being a parent. He worries so much that he'll be bad at it but Gertie really helps with his recovery, he gets a really solid routine looking after her and it means so much to him to have someone to look after and to just look at him like they trust him to take care of them.

John and Martin always watch quiz shows together and have a little competition to see who can get the most points. Martin is still ridiculously proud of the two times he managed to beat John.