#but its a good time regardless no sadness here

[lrdvyke]

❛  look  at  me .  ❜ from d

@luredeep !

Pain has been so constant that anything beyond it felt impossible to achieve. As if his life, no longer what it once was, was not meant to be lived in anymore, but to survive. Survive, only barely, thinking it was to be over once he met with a familiar gold face within the snow. Yet impossibilities began to stack on top of each other as Darian stood at the head, leading it all towards Vyke to be felt again. One after another, day after day; a frenzied mind trying to catch up to it, to take all in hand and give back tenfold.

Perhaps that is why his grip tightens, fingerprints almost bruising against the pallid flesh of narrow hips that lower itself upon Vyke. He feels the small resistance of Darian give away, eased by the aid of oil from pressed flowers, and spread around him until fully encased by the velvety warmth. The feeling is familiar enough that a dry sob almost comes out with his breathless moan. It takes more restraint than he has to keep from moving right away. Even when Darian settles in this seated position ( with his flesh rising in a crawling shiver throughout his nerves at the feel of the man's hands ghosting along his arms ), Vyke only presses his forehead to his shoulder and gulps down much-needed air.

Pain seems almost nonexistent. Not even a distant light, but merely an afterthought to knowing what may happen once the pleasure finally recedes as it is wont to do.

Thus, Vyke holds. ❛ Don't move—not yet, ❜ he says, voice a quiet hush as his hands slide from hips to encircle arms around Darian and press him flush against his chest. His head moves away, only so that he may ghost lips along the curvature of the other, from collarbone to down his sternum. His tongue laps at the indents, at the subtle rise of Darian's chest, across to any scar new and old that decorate the expanse of skin easy to reach. He maps it all out regardless, quick to take the taste of the other and recommit it back to memory. The salt of sweat, the metallic from sitting within his armor, to simply being Darian. His mouth covers flesh, sucks and nips upon it until he feels the other move above him seemingly involuntarily to his vigilant attentions.

But Vyke holds him tighter, even as he twitches inside of the man, even as his desire mounts in need to simply buck up against the heat. His fingers curl against the small of Darian's back, but Darian's own press into him just as well. Look at me. Even within the night, the voice is equally quiet in its command. Yet it also sets out an acknowledgement to what Vyke has been avoiding without realizing. He knows he has changed. His eye is grotesque within the shifting flame within, not even accounting for the lack of one and the deep burns that form from nose to head.

His head tilts up ( what Darian wants, he shall have. Always. Always. ), his eye looks into the milky blue of Darian's own. Vyke always found the man to be beautiful, a gem behind an impassive mask seen far more than not. A hand reaches up, his own in the search for contact, pressing flat against a cheek cooled by the breeze, before calloused fingers dive into hair the same color as the Erdtree once was. With enough strength to move, but not to hurt, he pulls Darian down into a kiss. Greedy lips sliding against pliant ones, he allows it to be bruising, as if there is no worry to such an action.

It is only then that Vyke begins finally; rolling hips up as he leans back some to give room enough to do so ( free hand digging fingertips into the ground ), and swallowing moans as they spill forth ... A bag of clarifying boluses lay just within reach.

[thedrotter]

as a little treat i am sharing with you little Aya doodles I've done over the last few days to unwind ww just little expressions based on lines in-game because those are always fun to draw. nothing too special just biscuit

it's Aya because upon doing bizarrely throughout playthroughs of the game for still unspecified project purposes I've gained a soft spot for her she's my daughter now my mental tier list on my favorite characters is so confusing right now

[taraxacum-vulpes]

why is everyone pretending like cyberpunk edgerunners is good. the writing is so bad i hate it

[hivepixels]

.

[4arconinoma]

Confession I still havent finished stone ocean to this day and I need to so bad but I'm literally scared to because it's so fucking depressing

[kethabali]

having a crush is so embarassing for no reason

[snekdood]

personally, i dont see the fundamental difference between deleting your account and making a new one and deleting all your old posts, if we're talking about "running from ones past", then what are you tryna hide there, bud?

[ghostdeals]

It bother me so much that people misunderstand sayaka miki's descent into madness in madoka magica. She doesnt become a witch "just because of a boy." Sayaka is a character who ties all her self worth into being in service of others. We can see this right from the start with her idolization of mami and everything that she was. She saw mami as this "perfect hero" even though mami i would say is mentally the weakest of the holy quintet. In the timelines where mami finds out about the incubator's true goals she always immediately breaks and goes crazy, trying to kill the other girls in her own twisted way of trying to "save them". Instead of seeing the fragile person that mami was, sayaka instead sort of treats her as a martyr, a goal to achieve. We continue on to sayaka's magical girl wish. Instead of wishing for something for herself, she instead sells her soul for the sake of kyousuke. Then when he starts dating hitomi she spirals not because she's sad about the rejection but because she feels replaced in his life, that he doesn't need or want her around anymore. Then she throws herself into her magical girl work not seeing that she's harming herself because she justifies it with "well im saving people that means what im doing is a good thing." She doesn't see that she's becoming more sloppy, more ruthless until its too late. It's only in the end when she turns into a witch that her story gets resolved.

Sayaka Miki is an incredibly sad character to me. While her actions have the illusion of being selfless and "for the greater good" she is actually incredibly selfishly motivated. Everything she does is in service of wanting praise and admiration from the people she cares about. If she helps kyousuke he'll appreciate her and love her, if she becomes a hero she'll receive praise and admiration for being a good person. This is why it is important that of all people it was kyoko that fought sayaka in the end. To homura, sayaka is someone to be saved. To mami, sayaka is her sweet apprentice/younger sister figure. To madoka, sayaka is her energetic and happy go lucky friend. Kyoko is the only one who from the start called sayaka out on her bullshit, seeing straight through her. And at the end, kyoko is the one who truly accepts sayaka. Sayaka as the witch Oktavia von Seckendorff is stated multiple times in official material to be "looking for love." In the end it it kyoko who gives her that love. Even when sayaka has lost her humanity it is kyoko who accepts her for the entirety of who sayaka is with all of her selfishness and desires. She is the one who sees what sayaka has become and stays together with her till both of their ends. Kyoko choosing to die with sayaka is her saying "I'm here for you, i know all of you, and I will love you regardless."

[strwberri-milk]

Can you do how the lad boys would react if they found the reader crying?

for rafayel i wanted to do like?? its his first time seeing you cry!! whereas the others are more general just bc i think like. hes a little more playful at the beginning of a relationship but grows more serious over time!! so thats why hes a little more playful only at the begining uwu

Zayne hears you crying before he sees you. You're in the bedroom, trying to calm yourself down before he comes home because you know that his days are long and you didn't want to make it even worse. He isn't sure what would be best for you, slowly putting his things away as he gives you a bit more time to settle.

It feels like hours to him but in reality it's only a minute before he comes to you, pulling you into his arms. He doesn't say anything to you but you know he's doing his best to comfort you. You're not expected to say anything to him really - he's more than happy to just hold you as you cry into his chest. If you do want to tell him about your feelings he'll listen to everything you have to say, offering solutions because he is a solution oriented person.

You'd end up exhausting yourself, falling asleep as he cradles you. When you wake up you find out he was able to get someone to swap shifts with him in the morning, giving him a bit more time until he has to go into work. You start to apologise but he just shuts you down, telling you that he wants to comfort you and your tears are a very valid reason for him to stay home from work, even if just for a bit.

Xavier's immediately pulling you into his arms and asking you what's wrong. It doesn't matter if he was holding something - that's not something he's worried about when you have tears running down your cheeks. He keeps you securely in his grasp, pulling you onto his lap and sitting down on a couch.

You're gasping for breath as you cry to him, barely able to speak but he somehow understands what you're saying regardless. You feel his hand rest on your head, gently comforting you. He tells you that he's here for you and he wants you to feel better however it is that he can support you. You bury yourself into him as you nod, not knowing what you want right now other than the comfort of his body against yours.

He's good at distracting you from your negative emotions. You're kept busy by him asking if you want to eat something or giving you his hands to fidget with. He's got a lot of snacks in the fridge from easy eating after long days. Even if you don't really want to eat he just wants to put your mind on something, gently pressing a morsel to your lips just to give you something to do.

He'll hold you until you're feeling better, consoling you and promising you that he's here for you no matter what.

Rafayel freaks out a little bit when he realises you're actually crying. He might have thought it was a joke or nothing too serious but when you look at him, eyes shiny with tears he's immediately holding you, brushing your tears away as he coos at you sweetly. He's telling you not to cry, that if you cry then he'll want to cry too but that just makes you more upset, pushing at him a little because you don't want to deal with him right now.

He immediately catches on and loosens his grip on you just slightly. You catch his gaze and realise it's softened up, his hands coming to brush your hair away from your forehead as best he can as he apologises for messing with you. You let him pull you into his chest as he starts muttering against your scalp, warning you that if you're sad it really does make him sad and he wants to see you smile, no matter what it takes.

He peppers you in kisses and coaxes you to tell him what's wrong. He'll offer you both some emotional support and a solution if he can find you one. If he can't then he'll just hold you until your tears finally stop, humming softly under his breath as you ground yourself in his presence.

Sylus' first response is to find out who made you cry and teach them a lesson. He's almost on auto pilot, about the leave the room when he suddenly remembers that you're sitting there crying. He picks you up and takes you back to bed, laying with you as he lets you cry it out in peace. He doesn't say much to you until your tears subside but the whole time he's got his hand on your hip, pulling you against his chest as he keeps his chin on your head.

Once you feel well enough to speak again he'll ask for details, wanting to make sure that if he has to enact justice on your behalf that he does it swiftly and accurately. Or torturously slow dependent on how distraught you are.

If you don't want him to do anything and just want him to stay with you he's more than happy to do so. He'll cuddle you up let you bury your face into him, telling you to comfort yourself using him as much as you need to. He just wants you to be happy and safe after all, so if his presence does that for you he's more than happy to stay.

[lucijawriteswords]

locker room | luke hughes

summary: you find an angry luke in the locker room after a loss and figure out exactly how to help him.

warnings: 18+!!!! SMUT. oral (m receiving), swearing, slightly angry luke, whimpering, begging if you look hard enough. a little fluff. poor rutger gets caught in the crossfire. pretty tame (just wait for my next one. it’s on its way.) not edited, i’m impatient

word count: 2.5k

A/N: hello! welcome to my new venture. i’ve not written anything like this before so please, give me some grace- and feedback, if you’d like. tell me how you feel, who you want me to write about, what you want me to write about. with that, let’s get into it, shall we?

18+ below the cut

you heard laughs echoing from the press stand where the opposing team was giving post game interviews. you scoffed as you strode by, muttering to yourself. absolute ref show.

the path to the locker room was second nature to you, ingrained in your head, as familiar as your own bed. you’d been there enough times. familiar faces passed you as players quickly headed out, a few gracing you with a look, even fewer with a smile. you smiled back at those who did. one caught your arm, a freshman who’s name you hadn’t learned yet, right as you were about to turn the final corner, and gave you a warning glance. “he’s really upset, y/n. really upset. just thought i’d warn you. i’m not sure if he’s sad upset or mad upset but regardless i figured i’d let you know.”

you knew this. you knew it the second the buzzer screeched at the end of the third and luke stormed off the bench, shaking his head. you knew when you heard a loud snap and then the angry voice of an equipment manager, scolding luke about breaking a stick.

you knew luke.

“thanks, kid.” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. you reached up to gently pat his shoulder; friendly, comforting. “hey, don’t do that. you played amazing. the refs were horrid.”

he nodded, releasing your arm and bringing his hand up to wipe under his nose, followed by a loud sniffle. at the same time, you heard a scoff echo from around the corner and turned your head to find a brown, curly head and a bare shoulder disappearing back through the locker room door.

the freshman- who’s name you still couldn’t remember- looked at you, panicked. you just huffed out a sigh and drew your hand away from his shoulder. “oh, goodie.”

“i- y/n, he’s gonna think- shit,” he breathed out, letting his head drop backwards.

“hey, whatever he thinks doesn’t mean shit because it’s not true. he’s upset anyways and now he’s gonna spiral cause he thinks i’m messing with his freshman teammate. so, good game, honestly, but i’m gonna go figure out that situation before it’s too late.” you rushed out, pointing towards where luke’s head had disappeared to.

the freshman- you really had to learn his name- nodded and muttered a tiny ‘bye’ before making his way down the rest of the hall. you offered a quick wave as you stepped around the corner and pushed the door to the locker room open.

upon your immediate surveillance, there was no luke. but, you heard water streaming against tile, and the showers don’t shut off or turn on automatically, so that means that someone turned it on and was still in there. you did a quick second scan of the stalls, and upon seeing that everyone’s jerseys were hung up, bags folded, and there were no shoes resting underneath a stall- except luke’s- decided that it must be, could only be, luke in the shower.

“luke?” you called, making your way across the maize and blue carpeting.

“in here,” he answered, voice clipped. impatient. upset.

“can i come in?”

“yeah, i don’t care. ‘less you have rut with you, in which case, stay out there.”

“rut?” who the hell names their child rut?

“rutger, honey. my replacement, apparently.”

you surmised that rutger must be the freshman, and decided that yes, rutger was a name you’d have a hard time remembering.

“baby, he’s not your replacement. we were just talking.” the water shut off as you were talking and you heard bare feet slapping against the wet tile, followed by a low ‘fuck.’

“why are you swearing, lu?” you wondered, taking another stop towards the showers.

“forgot my towel. would you grab it for me? it’s hanging in my stall.”

you chuckled, walking back towards his stall and grabbing the towel. it was rough, pilled. threadbare on one end. “ew. gotta get you a new towel, babe.” you giggled, sticking your finger through a hole in the corner and turning, wiggling it at him.

“can you just bring it over here you weirdo?” he grumbled, but a small smile graced his lips as he poked his head around the wall.

“can i explain?”

“honey, i’m soaking wet. can it wait?” still upset, then.

“no.”

“go, then.” he bit out, exasperated, angrily gesturing at you to explain. you made a face at him before speaking.

“he was just warning me that you were upset, lu. i was thanking him and he looked sad so i told him he played well and that it was a ref show, ‘kay? just talking.” you finished, tossing the towel to him. his head disappeared behind the wall briefly before he made his way fully out, towel wrapped around his hips.

“alright. just don’t want him getting any ideas.”

“wait, lu, doesn’t he have a girlfriend? i swear, one of the freshmen this year has a girlfriend.” you thought out loud, following him towards his stall before plopping yourself onto the ground, electing to sit rather than stand as he got dry and dressed.

“oh. yeah.”

you laughed without humor, watching his back flex as he undid and redid the towel around his waist.

“glad i got you that shitty towel. didn’t feel like getting dripped all over, if i’m being honest.” you said, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on them.

luke froze, turning his head with a devilish smile on his lips. your playful expression dropped as he turned all the way around, water slowly trailing down the planes of his chest. you gulped.

“lu, don’t even think about it- LUKE!” you started, trying to get up, but it was to no avail, because in a split second he was standing over you, shaking his head like a dog, sending water all over you- and the rest of the locker room, for that matter. “you little shit!” you screeched, holding your hands up to your face, the water splattering unceremoniously on you.

you heard his hoarse laugh as he finished tormenting you, turning back to his stall and pulling a sweatshirt over his body. you heard the rustling of fabric as he reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. your hands still covered your face, trying to be prepared if your child of a boyfriend got a second wind, but by the wet thump of the towel against the ground, you assumed he’d pulled the sweatpants on.

“i’m not gonna splash you again, baby. you can move your hands.” luke said, his voice calmer than it was a few minutes ago.

“why aren’t you putting your suit back on?” you asked, taking in his outfit.

“not going out the front, so nobody’s gonna see. just gonna go out the back, s’where i parked anyways.” he spoke towards the ground, pulling on socks and slipping his feet into a worn pair of birkenstocks.

“nobody’s even here anymore,” you added absentmindedly, looking down at your apple watch. 11:37. “it’s late.”

“yeah, honey, i know. you got a date with rutger at 11:45 or something?” he mumbled, the sass making its way back into his voice at in response to your apparently stupid statement.

“oh well, pardon me, mr. perfect. wasn’t sure if you were too busy being mad at me for talking to someone to look at your watch. oh, boy, am i excited to walk to the car, freezing and wet with your mopey ass.” you cut out, voice raising at the end, having had enough of him. “i get that you’re upset about losing but come on, luke. he’s got a girlfriend, he’s younger than me, and i would never do that to you.”

“oh, so you admit that i was right for thinking that? you’re defending yourself pretty heavily, y/n, i dunno. you sure he’s not waiting for you?” he whipped around. there was no more playfulness.

“you’re kidding, right?” you returned, voice emotionless.

he simply shrugged, nostrils flared slightly, anger written all over him. tense shoulders, arms crossed. wide stance.

“god, luke, you’re such a child sometimes.”

“oh, i’m a child for being protective over my girlfriend, but it’s fine for you to get all up on him and touch his arm? fucking double standard if you ask me.” he was harsh, accusatory.

your mouth dropped, incredulous at his words, but more so his tone. “don’t you fucking DARE talk to me like that. once you’re thinking straight and decide to not be an asshole, text me. i’m gonna go to my dorm tonight.”

you shook your head, pulling your phone out of your pocket and clicking into snapchat, swiping into your roommate’s chat, starting to type a message to her to ask her to pick you up, but you felt a hand close around your arm, spinning you back. you were ready to fire off more words but said words were nipped in the bud as you felt luke’s mouth on yours, hot and heavy. any anger you had took a backseat as you felt his tongue on yours, his hands finding their place on your hips, pulling you into him.

he kissed you desperately, hard enough to almost hurt. you moaned when he bit lightly on your lip, sticking the tip of your tongue out to flick his upper lip. a type of retribution. something between a moan and a growl clawed it’s way from his throat, angry and ready to be released.

you pulled away, shoving him firmly backwards by the chest. his eyes were apologetic and he looked like her was about to say something but you quieted him by pushing him down into the bench in front of his stall. “talk later,” you muttered, kneeling in front of him.

“baby, i was mean to you, you don’t have to-” he cut himself off as you undid his sweatpants and pulled him out, felt him heavy in your hand. you pulled slow, languid strokes over his cock, relished the way his head tipped back, the way his adams apple bobbed, the way he whimpered when your thumb ghosted over his angry tip. you grinned at the noise, deciding to tease him even more. his breath caught in his throat, a wet, choked, noise, as you dragged your tongue across his slit, letting your saliva mix with the precum that was gushing out of him. he looked down at you then, bringing a hand to the back of your head to gather your hair. “don’t tease me, baby. can’t take it.”

“gotta ask nice, pretty boy.”

“please, y/n. i need your mouth, i need to feel you on my cock, please.”

a wicked grin carved itself onto your face as you spat into your hand and gave him three long, hard strokes from the base. “all you had to do was ask, lu.” you purred, taking him into your mouth, moaning around him at the taste, the weight, the relief of feeling him in your mouth, on you tongue.

you heard his head thump against the wood of the stall, his breathing ragged as your moan vibrated around him. you felt him twitch in your mouth as you pressed your tongue flat against the underside of his dick and swallowed around him, curses falling from his lips.

“god, y/n, not gonna last. take me so good, baby,” he cut out, voice strained as he bucked into your mouth, hips and words stuttering in some sort of fucked up prayer to your mouth.

you smiled as much as you could with a mouth full of dick, moaning around him to try to get him there faster. his fist tightened in your hair and a whine escaped your lips, buzzing on his cock.

you looked up at him through your lashes, saw the flush on his neck making his way up to his cheeks, pride in the fact that you made him like that, that you could have him like this. that you could reduce him to a moaning, whimpering mess with only your mouth. you moaned at the mere thought, feeling him swell in your mouth.

you tapped his thigh twice, knowing he was getting close. his eyes met yours, hazy and hooded and drowning in lust, in you. you nodded, wanting, needing to see him when he finished.

his chest heaved, eyes trained on you as you worked him, bobbing up and down his cock, spit coating him at the base.

“fuck, y/n, look so pretty like this. so pretty, baby.” he whimpered, impossibly close. you moaned around him, long and loud, wanting to taste him. “so close, baby, so close.”

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself, before pushing your head down further, feeling his head hit the back of your throat, your nose pressing into the soft skin of his pelvis, feeling him tense under you. a long, drawn out call of your name left his lips as you swallowed around him, trying not to choke.

“fuck, gonna cum,” he whispered, lightly pushing his hips into your mouth, thighs shaking as he finally let go, warmth filling your mouth, his cock jumping wildly. you moaned, tasting him, feeling his hot cum coat your tongue and throat, swallowing it down as much as you could with his dick still in your mouth. he hissed, pulling your head off, overstimulated. you swallowed again, not wanting to miss a drop, settling back onto your knees, looking at him trying to collect himself.

“you still mad?” you quipped, cocking your head. he rolled his eyes at you, still trying to catch his breath as he tucked himself back into his pants. “gonna take that as a no,” you answered yourself, pushing yourself up, brushing your hands over your knees, feeling the imprint of the carpet and your jeans on the skin.

he stood up, gathering you into his arms and pulling your head into his chest. you nestled your head there, arms draping lazily around his waist, leaning all your weight onto him, the lateness of this rendezvous catching up with you. you smiled into the softness of his hoodie. “i’m sorry, babe. just get jealous, you know how i am.”

“i know, lukey. it’s okay. but you know i would never do that to you, to us, so i got defensive.”

he pressed a quick kiss into your hair, muttering an ‘i know,’ tapping your butt lightly so you would jump. you did so, weakly wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging to him lightly, knowing he had you. you rested your head on his shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the column of his throat. “can we go home? i’m tired.”

he smiled, readjusting you so he could grab his keys from the hook in his stall. “‘course we can, baby.” he kissed the side of your face, and you felt the smile still gracing his lips.

[onyourowndaisymae]

don't mind me... just thinking about the dateables slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

diavolo (you are here) // barbatos // simeon // solomon -- gn!mc, NSFW under the cut -- warning for mentions of intimacy without reciprocated feelings & the angst associated w it + minor s2 spoilers

diavolo, who is fascinated by humans. when he proposes the exchange program, he's being honest when he claims its to strengthen the bonds between all three realms. but he also has the selfish urge to have humans up close-- he just finds them so interesting. virtually powerless next to angels and demons, yet strong-willed and stubborn despite it all. solomon had been an object of his fascination for awhile, but that was a powerful sorcerer who was practically immortal. but you... like a child with a new puppy, diavolo had to resist the urge not to follow you everywhere you went, burning the observations into his brain for the future. barbatos was his saving grace, redirecting him when his question became too enthusiastic or overbearing, keeping him on task with the grace he'd been known for over the last few centuries. oops. well, at least he would have a whole year to get to know you better.

diavolo, who has high hopes for you. he sees the way you've intertwined yourself so thoroughly into the hearts of the demon brothers, how you've repaired their broken dynamic and made friends of all of them-- even lucifer! as the exchange program drew to a close, he was admittedly quite sad to see you go. he hadn't spent as much time with you as he wanted. he watches your goodbyes with the brothers with a somewhat envious eye. how unfair of his duties to keep him so occupied that he doesn't know you until you're leaving! how wicked, how cruel. he's throwing a pity party for himself behind a stoic expression. but regardless of his reservations, he sends you back to the human world with a smile and a promise that they'll all be waiting for you. and when you finally return to the devildom with solomon, popping in on a random student council meeting with an aloof grin, he can't help but thank fate for the gust of wind that dropped your information at lucifer's feet while they were searching for exchange students.

diavolo, who is royalty-- and looks the part. muscular frame, large stature, gorgeous face and body sculpted to perfection, with the wingspan and horns adorned with gold... it was clear he was a step above the rest. but being royalty had its drawbacks. the expectations that sat on his shoulders were heavy, but they were a burden he had to bear. a suitor of his was watching him from across the party with a knowing smile, eyes sharp, before finally summoning him with a single "come here" motion of their finger. and that was it. the death of his fun evening with friends for the sake of the kingdom. he spared you, the demon brothers, the angels, and the sorcerer one final look before joining the demon's side with a fake smile. he felt horrible. the demon did truly desire him, but diavolo couldn't muster up the same passion for them. not while they stowed away to his bedchambers. not while they were on their knees between his legs, lips and tongue kissing across his hardened length, deep groans rumbling in his chest. not while he returned the favor, enthusiastically lapping at their juices as he prepped them for his cock. and not while fucking them, either, their keens muffled into silk sheets as they clenched around his cock with another orgasm, his murmured praises almost lost in the heat of it all. as his arms wrap around the slumbering demon, tuckered out from a night of intimacy, he wonders if this is the life he's been resigned to. were demon politics so fickle that he'd truly have to marry not for love, but for the good of the devildom? he longed for the freedom of someone he knew... of you. his heart ached as his thoughts wandered to you. at every turn, you'd chosen the decision you wanted, even as the world closed in around you. you followed your heart through every crossroads and ended up on top at every turn. diavolo longed for the freedom you enjoyed-- and maybe that's why he was so fond of you.

diavolo, who eagerly awaits your next visit to the castle. lately he's found himself growing impatient for your visits, easily distracted by the knowledge that you'll soon be at the castle with him. it annoys barbatos to no end. this, he feels bad for... but really, can you blame him? he's giddy with excitement by the time you finally arrive, and it causes him to act familiar with you in a way he maybe shouldn't. he sits not opposite of you but next to you for tea, offering to pour your tea and add sugar cubes to your liking as he listens to you talk about the shenanigans that happened this week at the house of lamentation. your smile is contagious-- he finds himself mirroring it with warm cheeks. he doesn't know who starts it, whether it be his hand brushing against yours or your pinkie reaching for his, but soon your fingers were intertwined as colorful stories fell from your lips. you exchange words like that for awhile, neither one of you daring to ruin the moment by mentioning your hands. and your reward is even better-- eventually his large hand finds your cheek, stroking it with kind eyes for a moment before pressing a kiss to your lips. it's soft and hesitant, an unspoken desire, and he starts to pull away. but you don't let him. you lean in, lips moving against his, gripping his hand a little tighter to let him know you're on the same page. when the kiss is over and you two part, his head is surprisingly blank. all that pining really must have turned his brain to mush after all...

diavolo, who is so proud to call himself your partner. who would follow you to the end of time if you'd keep looking at him like that. greed and lust swirl in your gaze as you pant desperately, tugging a little on his hair when his movements still to watch you. his tongue laps desperately at your hole, chuckling to himself as you clench around nothing. his hands toy with the most sensitive part of yours sex, movements purposeful yet almost lazy in their pace. he's teasing you. his wings flutter a little when you tug at his hair again, and he pulls back enough to let you watch him stick two of his fingers into his mouth. from the movement of his cheeks, he's sure you notice the way his tongue swirls around them, drenching them in saliva before pulling the slick digits out. he eases one into your hole with a little bit of coaxing, the other running carefully along your sex in anticipation. they scissor in sync when they're both in you, purposefully stretching you open, lovingly prepping you for his cock. but it's never enough, is it? the same familiar stretch, that slight burn, makes your clench the sheets in your fists. his words are quiet and calm, sweet nothings against your shoulder and neck as he leaves a few kisses in his wake. he feels guilty each time you're intimate together for the pain he causes you-- he knows demons are bigger than humans, and that you're with him willingly, but the guilt lingers regardless. that is, until you give him permission to move. the first thrust makes you gasp, but after a few shallow movements your pretty eyes roll back into your head. this, he reminds himself, is why he loves fucking you. he hasn't moved beyond a shallow, careful pace, but you're already pulling at his shoulders and writhing underneath him. his golden eyes sparkle with fondness as he begins to move a little faster, hit a little deeper, watching you quickly become cockdrunk and forget the pain of the first few thrusts. he loves you so dearly that it makes his fingers tremble as he intertwines them with yours, pinning you down to his bed as he grinds into you. he is hopeless. a lost cause. walking around blindly, lovedrunk, powerful yet helpless to your whims-- lord diavolo would stop at nothing to bring the three realms to harmon, if only to justify keeping you by his side.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable // @deepseafragments // @niinian

[huellitaa]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨ feeling uncomfy in ur own skin

ok so this is something ive been struggling with for years. like i wake up some days and just feel Eugh way more than id like to. SO i decided i'd make a little guide on this! for me and for you 🩷✨

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 reasons why we could be feeling uncomfortable with ourselves and who we are

♡ having a shitty mental diet and consuming media and things that make you feel bad abt urself

♡ being in an environment where we're constantly being judged or put down, even over the most basic things

♡ hanging around negative people or negative places

♡ not giving urself enough credit for ur own achievements and accomplishments

♡ changing urself constantly for others and not having a clear sense of self to hold on to

♡ not having boundaries on how you and others treat you

♡ staying stagnant in the same place in your life and not changing (🎀🗒️also read: get comfy being uncomfy ♡)

♡ not paying enough attention to yourself and avoiding your genuine thoughts, feelings and emotions

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. be gentle with yourself!

pleasepleaseplease its ok to have bad days its ok to not feel great every day. treat yourself as you would someone you love. if you just aren't feeling good today, then you aren't feeling good! honour that and respect that and deal with that accordingly. even if you are uncomfortable with yourself right now or you don't like yourself right now, please try and treat yourself with care regardless, because no matter what stage you are in in your life right now you are and always will be the most important person in ur life, so TREAT URSELF LIKE IT🫶💖

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. inspiration, not comparison!

i know its often told not to go looking at people who are ahead of you in these times but hear me out. i think looking at and observing people you admire who are further ahead of you is very motivating to build yourself up and *become more like them* in your own way. you look up to them because of ___? what can you do to become your own version of that? thinking like this gets me more inspired to just get out of bed because i want to be more like them.

two words for this one - NO. COMPARISON. gaining inspiration from others to better yourself and comparing yourself to others are two completely different things. 🫶 (shameless self promo, but i have a post on this here! 🩷✨)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. analysis: detective work chapter!

journal and think and think to urself why u might feel like this or what caused this. when did it start? has anything happened lately that may have caused this? how does it feel, in depth? what can you do to combat this? how can you make it through the day & make it so you do even better tomorrow?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. channeling the mindset!

back to my point on our idols, thinking like them & thinking what they'd do in this situation helps me a lot. personally one of my idols is ada lovelace so whenever im really tired and unmotivated or insecure on my abilities or appearance or anything else i think to myself "what would she do?" and 9 times out of 10 im up at my desk in my cutest outfit hard at work. this is def one of my favourite points and something i use on the daily for like literally everything and 100% recommend 🩷✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. what would i do?

similarly, ask urself what the best version of yourself or the version of urself youre working towards would do in this situation. be your own inspiration. be ur own muse. would they stay in bed and rot all day? if the answer is no then ur up. out. immediately. ask urself what they would do. if ur feeling drained, would they take a day off to do some self care and recharge? if ur feeling sad, would they be gentle with themselves and let themselves feel sad for a little while & try to work to the root of the problem?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. understanding yourself!

make a list of the things that make you the happiest and most comfortable & productive and the things that make you the unhappiest and the opposite of those things. i mentioned this in my recharge day post, but figuring out these will help you find out which negative behaviours or habits are lowering ur vibrations and making u feel like this, and help u to engage more in the things that make you happy with yourself and everything around you 💗✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. pay attention!

pay close attention to ur internal landscape and your self talk throughout the day. note down every little thing you notice, even if you think it won't be helpful; for example, do you find yourself indulging in negative talk abt urself, negative talk abt others, constantly being pessimistic and expecting the worst, indulging in judgement and criticism of urself and everyone around you, getting distracted easily, and so on.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. what would i do, part 2

like i mentioned earlier, you should be your own inspiration. you should be your own muse. as much as it's nice to have idols, when ur trying to change something about urself and adjust and improve ur own behaviours, you should be mainly focusing on what you want to achieve by changing said behaviours. do you know who you're working towards being? do you know how you want to feel? do you know what you are changing these things you feel into? think about whether or not the person you are now lines up with the person you want to be in all aspects of ur life. if you feel like you aren't even trying to meet these standards then of course ur gonna feel bad about urself. of course don't be too hard on urself, but keep this in mind. 💓✨

finally, remember that these things are temporary and it wont be like this forever. ur beautiful and perfect no matter what and in these times u gotta show up for yourself even more and never give up! i believe in u 🫶🩷

all my love 💗💬✨🎀

[mercuriians]

I feel like a fic about Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto finding their s/o reading fanfic about them would be hilarious

(You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to <3)

Have a lovely day and thank you if you end up doing this request <33333

a fantasy world

content info — gender neutral! reader, fluffy hq!! drabbles with some crack & hurt/comfort (sounds weird but bear w it, all separate). a teeny tiny bit suggestive in atsumu's part cuz he's a little shit.

word count — 1.9k words.

author’s note — holy HELL this is so late 😭 anon i hope ur still here, i made this pretty long so that's my way of apologizing. im also praying that atsumu is in character because this is only the second time ive written him. anyway, tysm for requesting!! hope u all like this <3

MIYA ATSUMU

your eyes are obstinately glued to your phone, wholly transfixed by the words that were typed across the screen. not a single soul knew about your little hobby and quite frankly, it was likely better that they remained oblivious. you wouldn’t know how to react if anyone found out, but really, there was one particular person who absolutely had to stay unaware.

as it turns out, they were also the very subject of the story you’re currently reading—of course, none other than your sweet, beloved boyfriend, atsumu. not that the term ‘sweet’ was an especially fitting term for him. ooh, that was a sick burn.

now, obviously you loved the boy. atsumu was bold, intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking, and affectionate to the point where osamu and the rest of his team often complained about how shameless he was in front of them. his spirit burned bright with fiery ambition, glimmering red and orange and yellow, and he introduced a kind of light into your life that you had never quite experienced before. at first you were a little wary at first, a little blinded by how much he shone, but because you were just as stubborn as he was, you soon grew used to it.

if anything, you came to learn that atsumu was undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people out there. motivating his peers was like second-nature to him, and even if he didn’t consciously put in the effort to inspire them, he still ended up doing so anyway. his love for volleyball was blatant in its authenticity, in its obsession. so when coupled with his charisma, and, yes, his boyishly good looks, atsumu developed a serious kind of gravitational pull. it was no wonder so many people were drawn in—yourself included.

but, inevitably, something had to be sacrificed. your boyfriend’s devotion to the game often meant that you two didn’t get to spend much time together. if atsumu wasn’t practicing at the gym, then he was either thinking about doing it, on his way to doing it, or—this happens only under the direst of circumstances—recovering from doing it. he was, in every sense of the word, a workaholic.

you were fine with it for the most part, mostly because you had a busy schedule to deal with yourself. if you weren’t doing homework or studying for an upcoming exam for the sake of staying on top of your classes, then you were either fulfilling your duties as a student council member, playing your respective sport, or taking care of things at home.

regardless, there were still times when you wished atsumu was with you. it didn’t matter if he was spewing volleyball jargon, or forcing you to pepper with him, or anything like that. you just wanted to spend time with him, to actually see him and his stupid face and his stupid smile that you want to kiss so badly.

maybe that’s why you’re so zeroed in on the fanfiction you’re reading—to try and make up for what you’ve been deprived of for days on end. a very palpable twinge of sadness tugs at your heart. you push the unwanted sentiment to the depths of your mind, trying to focus on reading the story again.

god, what sentence were you even on? and why was the door suddenly opening—

“hey baby, did ya miss me?”

your soul leaves your body.

before you even have time to think, a shrill scream rips from your throat as you scramble to hide your phone underneath the covers. atsumu's jaw drops, completely and utterly befuddled by your behavior. after a moment he raises his hands in mock surrender. "jeez, darlin', it's just me. your boyfriend, remember?" atsumu says, brow raised. there's a mixture of emotions written across his face—slight concern, palpable amusement, even some suspicion. "what are ya hidin' there on your phone, anyway?"

finally, you seem to find your voice. "n-nothing important," you mumble, clearly and very intentionally avoiding the intensity of atsumu's hawk-like gaze. "i didn't even know you'd be visiting today.. thought you would be busy with practice again."

maybe it's because your boyfriend knows you so well by now, but he catches the hint of bitterness in your tone. his face softens, and he takes one, two, three steps toward you until he's taking up the space on your left. "coach called in sick, so mister perfect decided to just cancel practice for today," atsumu shrugs. you're still somewhat upset, but you can't help but smile at the setter's nickname for his captain—kita shinsuke, the closest embodiment of perfection that anyone's ever seen.

"i'm pretty sure i texted ya that i would be dropping by," your boyfriend adds, glancing over at you. cautiously, you pull out your phone again and open up the messages app. lo and behold, he did in fact text you, but you were too busy with your fanfiction to notice.

your face burns with the weight of your embarrassment.

a small chuckle escapes from atsumu's mouth. "wow, i haven't even done anything and you're already blushin' for me," he teases. you hit his chest halfheartedly, muttering about how mean he's being. you fail to notice the calculating glint in his eyes. you also fail to notice his hand wandering.

a second later, atsumu grins smugly, your phone held securely in his grip.

"what the hell, 'sumu?!" you screech, trying to retrieve the object in vain. "how did you even—"

"i'm good with my hands," he winks, and you don't even have time to scold him for the clear innuendo because he's typing in the password to your phone. all you can do is accept your fate as atsumu discovers the story you were reading.

as expected, he laughs. loudly. it's almost like the laugh he lets out whenever he wins a bet against osamu. you turn away, shame and humiliation gnawing at your chest. there's nothing more you want than to be swallowed by the floor beneath you.

however, when atsumu's laughter dies down a few moments later, you feel him wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "baby," he begins, voice still a little breathless from all his cackling, "why are ya reading this when ya got the real thing right here?"

you look up at him, a confusing mess of emotions swirling within your stomach. "because we don't seem to spend much time together anymore," you admit, lowering your eyes to the ground. "laugh all you want, but these stories are there for me whenever i need them. you probably think it's stupid, or pathetic, or whatever, but.. i miss you, 'sumu."

you close your eyes, preparing to hear another round of thunderous laughter. it never comes.

"open yer eyes for me, babe," atsumu's voice is unexpectedly soft, tender. hesitantly, you do, and your gaze meets his. your boyfriend reaches out, resting a calloused hand against your cheek. his touch is so familiar, so comforting, that you can't do anything else but lean in and welcome it. "i didn't know that ya were feelin' this way, and i'll admit that it's my fault for not noticing. but hey, you wanna know somethin'?"

"what is it?" you whisper.

"i miss ya too," your boyfriend confesses. he leans in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. "and tomorrow, i'm taking ya out on a date."

OIKAWA TOORU

"oh my god, this is so cute," you sigh dreamily, swinging your feet in satisfaction as you indulge yourself. it was fanfiction, for crying out loud—can you really be blamed? this particular story practically reeked of fluff. you had just received flowers from the male lead, with you two having confessed just a few days ago. now you were on the first date, entering the doorway to a beautiful relationship that made every reader jealous.

the fact that the male lead—the infamous setter of aoba johsai, fanboy of iwaizumi hajime, hater of ushijima wakatoshi—also happened to be your boyfriend was just a minor detail.

you continued reading, the outside world completely irrelevant as you immersed yourself in the story. soon another squeal leaves your lips as oikawa, the male lead, bends down to kiss your hand. he says something swoonworthy, causing you to giggle like a madman. "that's it, i'm marrying you," you say, as if he can hear you through the story.

"marrying who?"

you let out a defeated sigh as your boyfriend pops his head into your room. there's a pout on oikawa's face, his mocha eyes filled with mock betrayal. still there's a part of you that knows he actually is a little bit jealous; he just doesn't know that technically, he's jealous of himself. "who are you marrying, babe?" he asks you somewhat accusingly. "i think it's a bit too early for—"

"shut up please," you groan, a bit sad that your reading session got interrupted. "i'm reading this fanfiction of you, and in the story, you're actually nice to me."

you immediately hear an indignant gasp from your boyfriend. he puts a hand to his chest, his pout now even more prominent. "excuse me, i am nice to you," oikawa scoffs as he walks over, squinting at the story you're reading. "i'm way better than him!"

"you are him," you deadpan.

"exactly! why are you reading that when i'm right here? i'm hurt," oikawa says in disapproval, shaking his head at you. "now move over."

you blink—once, twice. "wait, what?"

"i wanna read too," oikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "so i can list all the things they got wrong about me."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

maybe reading fanfiction about your boyfriend wasn't the best idea. it's not that the story wasn't great because it really was—the characterization was on-point, the writing style was smooth and elegant, and the plot was creative. it's more about your boyfriend himself. particularly the way that he reacted when he found out.

"am i not good enough?" bokuto asked you quietly as he stared up at you. his golden eyes were absolutely despondent, his shoulders were slouched, and even his owlish hair looked like it was deflated. you didn't need akaashi to understand that those were all signs of an emo bokuto.

and it was all because of you.

man, the guilt was unbearable.

"koutarou," you say softly, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "baby, you are more than enough for me. you're amazing, okay? you're my anchor, and you make me smile when no one else can. compared to you, this fanfiction means nothing." you pause, placing a tender kiss against his warm cheek. "seeing you sad makes me sad, you know?"

"i'm sorry," bokuto mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "i thought i'd let you down or something, like i wasn't being a good boyfriend. it scared me."

his words make your heart hurt even more. you pull away from the hug, letting your earnest gaze meet his. "from now on, you don't have to be scared," you tell him seriously. "i'll stop reading fanfiction, and every day, i'll remind you of how much you mean to me. is that fair, kou?"

bokuto nods, and it's at that moment that you start to see the gloomy aura around him disappear. "i love you," he says, and you can tell that he means it. he always does.

you pull him closer, your fingers combing through his hair soothingly. he hums quietly, enjoying the feeling. "i love you too, koutarou," you smile. "and no story will ever change that."

you let a few moments pass by, simply listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. slowly, you let your eyes close, your boyfriend's strong embrace lulling you to a light rest. after a few moments, though, bokuto's voice breaks through the silence. "can i ask you a question, babe?"

you open your eyes. "anything."

he pulls away, his expression completely serious as he looks at you. "can we get something to eat?"

[oneforthemunny]

blue christmas |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a look at two very different christmases in eddie's life.

apart of munny's merriest masterlist which you can read here!

contains: sad!eddie. parent guilt. divorce. gina. mainly just very lonely christmas angst but some fluff at then end.

Fourteen Years Before

“Hey, have a good one, Munson!” Phil waved a gloved hand, locking the body shop for the night. “Have a Merry Christmas!” Even Christmas Eve held its fair share of wrecks, cars breaking down in the snow, plenty of business even on the holiday. 

“Yeah, you too!” Eddie waved back, hands shoved deep in his utility jacket, heavy and warm for the colder months. His hands fiddled around with the cigarette carton in his coat pocket, pulling out his keys with the cigarette, letting it hang from his lips as he slid into the truck. 

The roads were empty, cleared of any traffic on his way to his apartment. The twinkling lights in the yards, strung merrily and proudly for all to see mocked him, a dull reminder of what wasn’t waiting for him at home. 

Home. He used that term loosely. 

The apartments were cheap for a two bedroom, close to Brielle’s school and Eddie’s work. Gina had got the house in the divorce. Eddie didn’t want it, couldn’t afford it on his own after she’d cleared out what little he had. His thumb rubbed over his ring finger out of habit, meeting the calloused skin there instead of the gold band he wore for eight years. 

Eight years. Eight Christmases spent with Gina, with Brielle. They were far from perfect. He and Gina usually fought from Thanksgiving to New Years Eve, but at least he had a tree. At least it was decorated, and there were presents under the tree. 

At least he wasn’t alone. 

Eddie’s heart ached, a jabbing pain that spread through his chest, leaving his throat stinging with an uncomfortable burn. He knew the divorce was the right thing to do, when your seven year old asks Santa for her parents to stop fighting, it’s time. Still, he didn’t think it would hurt so badly, that it’d be this lonely.

That he’d miss it this badly. 

Maybe he should have toughed it out, should have ignored Gina so he wouldn’t be sitting here, in a pitifully empty apartment, in a deafening silence, nursing a beer on Christmas Eve. 

Eddie had put up a ‘tree’, a lighted spiral cone shape he found at a second hand store, after Brielle commented on his lack of decor. “You don’t like Christmas anymore?” 

She’d made him an ornament in art class, which he couldn’t hang on the spiraled lights of the tree, so he taped it on. She was happy with it regardless, grinning and telling him about how her art teacher let her make two. “Since you and mom are divorced.” Eddie’s stomach turned. There was something so sickening about hearing his little girl say those words in such a cheery tone. Made him feel like a complete sack of shit. 

Eddie looked at the clock on the stove, flashing bright, green numbers back at him. He worked later than expected, it was nearly eight, but knowing Brielle she was far from ready for bed- Santa's coming tonight. Eddie’s chest tightened at the thought- he was missing that. 

He grabbed the phone, punching in the numbers carefully, he knew them by heart. The phone rang, and rang. 

“Hello?” Gina’s huffy voice came over the other line. 

“Hey, Gina.” Eddie said awkwardly. “I, uh, I just got home. I was gonna talk to Brielle if she’s still up.” 

“Yeah, she’s still up.” Gina huffed, and he could practically see her eye roll, snarled lips. “You were supposed to call at seven.” 

“I know, I know. I just- I got busy at work. Had to stay overtime.” Eddie ran a hand down his face, knee bouncing. 

“Great. She’s gonna be even more wild now. She’s already losing her damn mind- Brielle, get out of your stocking or I’m throwing it away!” Gina pulled the phone away, shrilling. Eddie’s lips curled, hearing the cackle in the background, she was his daughter. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Eddie started. 

“-Just, whatever. Don’t get her fucking wild, Eddie, I swear to God.” Gina snapped. The phone rustled. “Here.” Gina’s voice was muffled, before the phone settled. 

“Hello?” The little chirp on the other end had Eddie’s heart swelling. 

“Hi, Munchkin.” Eddie grinned softly, voice lilting higher. “Merry Christmas.” 

“It’s Daddy!” Brielle shrilled. “Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.” 

“Are you still up?” Eddie sighed softly. “You’re supposed to be asleep. Santa’s coming soon, Brie.” 

“I’ll sleep in a little bit.” Brielle huffed lightly, she sounded like her mother. “When are you comin’ home? I saved you one of the Snowman cookies before Santa eats them, and I have reindeer food to put on the roof. It has glitter in it this time so they can see better.” 

Eddie paused, words choked around the lump in his throat, heart sinking low into the pit of his stomach. 

“Daddy?” Brielle asked, pulling the phone back. “I think it got undone-” 

“-No, no, I’m here, Brielle.” Eddie’s voice was tight, hand pressed into his eyes. “Um, I-I’m not coming home tonight, remember?” A ragged breath shook out of his chest, and he hoped she didn’t hear it. “I’m coming to get you tomorrow afternoon, and we’re going to Grandpa’s.” 

“Oh,” Brielle’s tiny voice was filled with disappointment, it tore Eddie’s heart right out of his chest. “Even on Christmas?” 

“Yeah, baby. Even on Christmas. Remember me and mom told you, you’d get two Christmases. One with each of us.” Eddie tried to keep his voice steady. 

“But not together?” Brielle muttered, a complete turn around from her previous excited tone. 

“No, not together. I’m sorry, Brie.” Eddie pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath in to keep his emotions in. 

“That’s ok.” Her tone told him otherwise. 

“But I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? And you can tell me all about what Santa brought you, and then we’ll go to Grandpa’s and you’ll have even more gifts to open.” Eddie hoped his tone was convincing. 

“Ok.” Brielle muttered sadly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Daddy.” 

“Yeah, you will, I promise.” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, nose burning with tears. “Good night, Brie. Dream of those sugar plums, alright? Love you.” 

“G'night. Love you.” Brielle repeated solemnly. 

The phone rattled for a moment, Eddie clearing his throat lightly. The line settled for a moment and he waited for Gina’s voice. A harsh dial tone came instead. 

Eddie tried to ignore the hurt that pounded in his chest. He felt grimy, gross, and disappointed in himself. He felt alone, most of all. 

Shaky fingers punched the buttons on the phone, knee bouncing as he lit a cigarette, pulling the ashtray closer to him on the kitchen table. “Hello?” Steve Harrington’s accommodating tone came through the line, a loud screech of children’s laughter in the background. 

“Hey, Steve.” Eddie cringed at the shake in his tone, swallowing. “Sorry to bother you, I, uh, I just wanted to-” 

“-Daddy! One present, please?” 

“Yeah! Just one! One!”

“Hang on,” Steve huffed. “No, ok? Mom said no, and you know she’s the boss. You better stop, alright? It’s not too late to get on Santa’s bad list. I’ll call him right now and tell him to skip the Harrington residence-” 

“No!” A chorus of cries in the background made Eddie smile, his chest aching even more with an unfamiliar feeling. 

Tiny stampedes of feet cleared in the background. “Sorry, it’s a zoo over here, Ed.” Steve snorted lightly. 

“Yeah, no, I get it.” Eddie laughed lightly, stopping himself gently. “Well, actually, I don’t. That’s, uh, that’s actually why I was calling.” Eddie exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead. “I, uh, I just called Brielle, and she’s-” 

“-Steven! I need help in here!” Nancy’s voice pierced through the phone, sharp even in the background. 

“Fuck. Hey, Ed, can I call you back? We’re trying to make cookies, and they’re decorating the baby.” Steve sighed. “I’m telling you, these kids are insane. I’m about to rip my hair out, and I still gotta make a fuckin’ dollhouse.” Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper. 

“Yeah, no, I get it. Don’t worry about it, man.” Eddie felt his waterline flood. “Go be with your family.” 

“Alright, I gotta go. Merry Christmas, Munson.” Steve hummed over the line. 

“Merry Christmas.” Eddie muttered, the dial tone cutting him off again. 

He leaned back in the dining room chair, cigarette burning between his fingers. Alone.

Present

“Eddie!” You called, wrangling the squirming one year old in your arms, Delilah was determined to get to the shiny presents, squealing and cackling. She was just crawling, thankfully, toddling but not as sure, but she was fast. 

“Ed, get the phone!” You yelled, the trill of the landline Eddie still had around filled the house. Brielle in front of you, in pajamas that matched her little sisters, phone dangling from her grasps. 

“She’s gonna open a present tonight.” Brielle giggled, recording her sister happily. 

“Yeah, or tear the tree down.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “I told you a candy cane was too much.” You glared at Eddie playfully. He’d snuck her tastes of a candy cane earlier at your parent’s house, laughing at how her eyes lit up. 

Eddie grinned, snagging the phone off the hook. “Hello?” 

There was a silence, the tiniest hitch of a breath on the other line. Eddie frowned, looking down at the caller id. “Hello?” 

“Is Brielle there?” The huffy, snide of a tone that he’d know anywhere. Gina. Why she was calling him on Christmas Eve, he wasn’t exactly sure, but he had an idea that it was due to Brielle’s silent treatment towards her after Gina’s rage filled rant about Lilah’s birth.

“Hello, Gina. Merry Christmas to you.” Eddie clipped, eyes rolling. “Yeah, she’s here.” 

Gina paused, and Eddie could picture her even now, nails tapping against the table furiously, anxiously. “Well, can you- can I talk to her?” 

Eddie’s head turned, his gaze meeting Brielle’s. She shook her head, brows raised nearly in offense at the suggestion. “Uh, Gina, she-she’s kinda busy right now-” 

“-Right.” Gina scoffed, tone harsh but Eddie could hear it, the traces of hurt lingering in the defensiveness. “Guess she likes the child bride more than her actual mother-” 

“-Alright, Gina.” Eddie huffed. “You have a good one. Merry Christmas.” 

“Wait!” The shrill in her tone, desperate and alarming. 

Eddie waited, holding the phone back to his ear. Gina huffed, taking in a deep breath. “Can you… Can you talk to her?” Her voice was small, quiet. “Just-Just tell her I want to see her, and I have gifts for her, and-and,” There was a pause, a shaky breath. “Tell her I miss her and I love her?” 

Eddie’s chest ached for her sympathetically. He knew she deserved it, that Brielle was probably in the right with her cruelty. Still, Eddie sympathized with her. The bitter loneliness of being alone during the holidays. 

“Yeah, Gina. I can do that.” Eddie nodded slowly, his voice dropping. “I’ll, uh, I’ll tell her.” 

“Thanks.” The word was clipped, drowned in disdain and followed with a sniffle. 

“Have a Merry Christmas, Gina.” Eddie sighed softly, hanging up the phone with a final click. 

He turned back to the living room. You and Brielle were still desperately trying to distract Lilah from the shining ornaments with her toys, rattling and shaking them in front of her so she squealed, only to turn back to the tree. 

Eddie smiled, scooping up the baby, tossing her in the air gently so she screeched in laughter. “She’s never going to sleep.” You grinned warmly, starry eyed watching Eddie cuddle your baby. 

“Nah, she’ll sleep in a little bit.” Eddie shrugged, snuggling her close to his chest. Delilah turned into his touch, face pressing into his chest, rubbing her face sleepily into the soft cotton of his Christmas pajama shirt that matched with his girls. 

His brows shot up, grinning triumphantly. You snorted, rolling your eyes lightly. “Alright, Santa. What kind of cookies do you want?” 

“Whatever kind you wanna make me, bunny. ‘M not picky.” Eddie hummed, rocking Delilah against his chest gently. 

“I bought the Snowman sugar cookie ones.” Brielle smiled brightly. “I can make them.” 

Eddie’s chest filled with warmth, looking down at the tiny girl in his arms, heavy lids pulling shut with sleep, knuckling at them. The lights on the tree seemed brighter and brighter as the years passed. A real tree this time, filled with ornaments and memories hanging on the branches, room for more as the years went on.  

[nanabansama]

Card Set Hanakotoba

Recently I was discussing with my lovely friend @istoleyourboat about the meanings behind the flowers in this new card set, and I felt the urge to chronicle them somewhere! I thought you guys might get a kick out of it, too, so this seemed as good a place as any to put it.

So without further ado...

1. Hanako-kun - Queen of the Night

The Queen of the Night (月下美人) is a cactus flower that blooms just once a year for a single night. Because of this, the most heavily associated meanings with the flower are "transient beauty", "fleeting love," and "the urge to see someone just once."

The short-lived life of this flower feels quite fitting for our ghosty boy! I also like how the flower looks both beautiful and unsettling...all around a fantastic choice by AidaIro.

2. Nene Yashiro - Strawberry Blossoms

If you have paid attention to the Hanakotoba in TBHK before, then Nene being associated with strawberries should be nothing new to you. Regardless, the prevalent Hanakotoba for Strawberry Blossoms (イチゴ) are "love," "innocence," and "you make me happy."

The "you make me happy" one makes me want to kick my feet around and squeal a little. Isn't that cute!? I also feel the strawberry is especially fitting for Nene because it seems like something she would grow in her Gardening Club.

3. Kou - Clivia

Otherwise known by the names Bush Lily or Natal Lily, the Hanakotoba for Clivia (君子蘭) are "sincere," "noble" and "good-hearted."

I think this all fits very nicely with our resident good boy Kou, hm?

4. Teru - Bird of Paradise

The Bird of Paradise (ストレリチア) symbolizes "faithfulness," "magnificence," "a bright future" and "superficial love."

Even at a glance this flower really pops out at you, making it a great fit for the ever-impressive Teru. I really, really love this choice!!

5. Sakura - Hellebore

Otherwise known as the Christmas Rose, the Hellebore (クリスマスローズ) represents "reminiscence," "never forget me" and "notice my woes."

The way this beautiful flower seems to cast its head down makes it look almost sad. I suppose that's why it has such pitiful meanings associated with it!

6. Natsuhiko - King Protea

King Protea (キングプロテア), also known as the Sugarbush, symbolizes "strength," "courage," "resilience," and "a king's quality."

If you notice, Natsuhiko always has a little crown-shaped tuft hidden in his hair, so AidaIro associating Natsuhiko with a flower that references royalty pleases me. There's still a lot of mystery surrounding him, but we can at least confirm that Natsuhiko is, indeed, strong and resilient.

7. Akane - Ivy

The plain, non-flowering ivy stands out in stark contrast to the other plants here, but that's because the hanakotoba for it is just that good. Ivy (ヘデラ) means "everlasting love," "I take this feeling to the afterlife," "faithfulness", and "marriage."

Like, if that doesn't scream Akane, I don't know what does.

8. Aoi - Hydrangea

Again, if you've been paying attention to Hanakotoba in the series, this will not be the first time you've seen Aoi paired with hydrangea. Regardless, hydrangea (アジサイ) represents "enduring love," "mystique," and "fickleness."

The hydrangea is also associated with rejection, more specifically the coldness of a person who rejects the romantic advances of another. It's just such a perfect Aoi flower, there's no wonder AidaIro is so attached to it.

💐🌸🌼🌻🌷🌹🥀🌺

Thank you for reading till the end! And I urge you to look up these flowers yourself and see if you can find any meaning to them I may have missed. You might find something brilliant that I completely overlooked!

[if-you-heart]

Analysing Soul’s character with animal behaviour

Something I’ve noticed about how Soul is treated by a portion of the fandom is that, to be honest, their character is extremely misunderstood by a lot of people. And that’s pretty sad! Because I think Soul is a very interesting and complex character. The main thing I’ve noticed is how Soul is often portrayed as the “big bad villain” because of a handful of lyrics throughout the cccc album. I’m not really going to go into the lyrics right now, but I feel like a lot of people are misunderstanding who Soul really is, and are more so looking for a character to pin all of the blame on for everything that goes down in the album.

Thinking about this made me realise that Soul reminds me of a wolf. Specifically, how a lot of people are quick to perceive a wolf’s social behaviour as “aggression” and them simply just being violent towards a “weaker” wolf.

The behaviour wolves display towards other pack mates (growling, nipping, etc) is almost always framed as them harming the other wolf. It may LOOK threatening, and the wolf’s teeth may seem intimidating, but in reality the wolf is being very gentle with its pack mate. It’s more so a corrective behaviour, or a way of showing social status, in most cases. I think Soul suffers from this misinterpretation when they’re lashing out within the lyrics of some of the songs. I believe the main reason it’s misconstrued is because of a general lack of understanding behaviours the viewer hasn’t personally experienced. Ofc this is a literal animal I’m comparing this to, but there’s still something to be said here regardless.

I’ve seen many people so far perceive Soul’s attitude towards Heart and Mind as pure evil and malicious, and barely cutting them any slack whatsoever. Soul isn’t a villain. They’re just exhausted. They’ve been stretched thin over the stress of feeling like a puppet to the other two. They’re what’s left when emotion and logic separates; a husk that’s struggling to survive. When you villainise them solely for how they act in the music, you’re also disregarding that both Heart and Mind are… just as bad. I mean Heart literally tried to kill Mind. None of these guys are evil, but they’re not good people either. The only way they’ll become whole is if they learn to get along, that’s what the album is about. Not one being more right than the other, but about them finally opening up to each other’s viewpoints and accepting one another, albeit hesitantly.

And yes, Soul’s behaviour in the album is ABSOLUTELY pretty toxic. But that’s what stress and depression does to a person!!! They’re very clearly tired of Heart and Mind fighting all the time. They don’t hate Heart OR Mind, but their patience with these two and their nonstop bickering is growing very thin. And that’s completely understandable. Every single one of these freaks start off with an unhealthy dynamic and difficult mindset. But they learn over time to get along until they’re eventually Whole again. There’s no “villain”, and none of them are completely innocent either. It’s just three really depressed guys who desperately want to see the light.

Anyways,