#comfort stories

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Can you do one where reader and him are best friends and he walks in on her changing and they both get really flustered? from his pov?

Delicate point of view

A/N: THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!!! So sorry for not getting back to it!! My apps been buggy and hasn’t been showing me any submissions but it’s starting to work again!! I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for this… thank you for the support my loves. I adore each and every one of you!!

This as requested will be in Harry’s POV but I’ll be using ‘him’ I can just write easier that way instead of using ‘I’ and of course adding in ‘you/y/n’ whenever applicable. I hope that’s okay my love. Thank you again for the request!!

Pairings: Harry x insecure! Reader (decided it could make it more cute!!) exact weight/ body not specified to be all inclusive for different insecurities!!

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

-

Harry had, had a busy day at the recording studio. He was a busy man with a busy schedule and sometimes it was impossible to spend time with those he loved however he had found some time to finally spend some time to relax with you— his best friend. You had been his friend for a long time, since childhood practically. You had both seen each other grow. He had seen you on your best days and worst days and had seen you grow into a mature beautiful woman. He always adored you, seeing you as the most gorgeous person ever but he never made any advances upon you. Not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t know how you felt, you sometimes seemed like you wanted him but then at other points you seemed to not want him…. Whether that be due to insecurity or fear of something certain he couldn’t of been sure but gods did he wish he could be with you sometimes. You were both intimate people whom adored one another but nothing ever pushed you guys over the edge of dipping your toes into the depths of love.

He slowly pushed your front door open, he had sent you a message letting you know he was coming to yours for a bit and you were in the shower but your phone had been left on the messages so it indicated you had seen it so Harry walked into the home, quietly shutting the door behind him. He then began walking upstairs wandering into your room gently pushing the door open “y/n I’m here and—“ “HARRY!!” His words were cut off by your voice as you stood there wide eyed dressed in just your underwear and bra. “ohhhh… shit.” He cussed as you both stared at each other wide eyed, his eyes trailed up and down your body a flush of red covering his face his green eyes wide as he admired you thoroughly, he could’ve looked at you all day- admiring all the curves on your body. The tone of your skin… the way your skin looked so soft and delectable… it made his heart race. You genuinely looked perfect to him. His eyes continued scanning up and down your body, unable to look away. Harry had always been the perfect match for you, you were insecure and desperately needed someone to uplift you. Sometimes your weight and body in general scared you and Harry didn’t hesitate to- as your best friend- assure you that weight didn’t matter. Assure you that a real man or a real mature human being would love you as you were… but still right now you were scared shitless. What if he thought you were ugly? you were just unable to speak in general too shocked and rather horrified that your handsome best friend was here staring at you practically nude. Your mouth opened and closed over and over again like a fish, unable to get your words out until eventually— “Harry cover your eyes!!!” Came from your lips and Harry quickly threw a hand over his eyes his ring covered fingers covering his eyes “Jesus Christ y/n..” he chuckled shaking his head “don’t peak!! I swear to god harry,” his cheeks were flushed bright red and he only laughed keeping his eyes covered, “don’t laugh Harry oh my god!! How embarrassing. Oh my god my best friend just saw me nude!” He continued chuckling at your rambling and just for your comfort to make you more comfortable he turned around.

His hands rested on his hips as he stared at the door listening to you rummage around clearly trying to get dressed “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much, y/n.” He spoke. “Because YOU Harry fucking styles!! My BEST FRIEND!! Saw me…. Nude! Saw my body!” He could see your shadow moving slightly proving your hands were moving about as you practically freaked out more. He laughed still bright red “not completely nude…” “Harry! Not the point!” His dimples appeared as he grinned.

He heard you groan slightly as you nearly tripped up from putting on your jeans so quickly, your hands trembling your face flushed and your eyes watering fearfully. Harry was genuinely the kindest human being ever but still it terrified you for him to see you like this. “You okay?” He asked and you nodded, before eventually remembering he couldn’t see you and murmuring a quiet “yeah.”

You pulled on your T-shirt as finally you were fully dressed again and Harry turned around looking at you with a small smile before his smile disappeared “hey… what’s the matter?” His brows furrowed concerned and he walked towards you only for you to step backwards “y/n… hey.” He reached out grabbing onto your trembling hands holding onto your hands securely before he brought your hands up to his lips pressing soft kisses to your hands “what’s wrong. You look like you’re about to cry,” he pointed out concerned for you watching as you tried to shy away but he gently cupped your cheek in his hand. He knew the look on your face, he wasn’t stupid, he saw the insecurity the way the fear and sadness flashed before your eyes and he exhaled softly “let me guess… you’re afraid I think you’re ugly?” His words hurt your heart and you looked at him, your lower lip trembling slightly giving him the answer he needed. Sure you were both only best friends but he was always so tender with you. “Darling… don’t be silly. You’re beautiful inside and out… and seeing you without clothes on…. You’re just more gorgeous.” He spoke with a reassuring smile. “Really?” And he nodded his head “of course really. Cant you see my face..?” He chuckled out and you took time to finally examine his face cheeks bright red, eyes glistening, and a wide smile on his face his dimples very apparent. “Oh…” you trailed off softly and he smiled before holding your face in his hands stroking his thumbs against your cheeks lovingly “you’re so so beautiful… the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Soon in a rather intimate way Harry leaned in to press soft kisses against your forehead, before trailing the kisses down your cheeks, across your nose, to your other cheek and down to your chin gently avoiding your lips “every part of you. Your nose…. Your cheeks… your lips.. your eyes… your body. All of you is… perfection.” He always knew how you were insecure, how you tried to fit in how perfect you tried to be how the pressure of society was nowadays to have a “perfect” body and perfect face. “Do you really think I’m beautiful? Perfect?” You asked with teary eyes and he nodded his head slowly “of course.” He continued stroking his thumbs against your cheeks softly “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again… whatever you weigh. Whatever anybody weighs… to the right person… it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But there’ll always be judgemental people out there… but no matter what my love… you’re beautiful…. Fuck what anyone else thinks. You’re my best friend and I think you’re perfect. I know you’re perfect.”

You smiled staring into his eyes watching as he began getting closer and closer until his lips were brushing against yours in a subtle kiss, as if making sure it was okay with you, but you didn’t respond— too shocked, but at you not pulling back, he took that as a yes and leaned in kissing you more deeply pressing his lips hard against yours but the tenderness remained, his hand caressing against your cheek, before eventually he pulled back after a singular kiss to look into your eyes “and… also…” his thumb brushed against your cheek “butterflies can’t see their wings, but they’re beautiful without knowing it.” His lips curved into a small smile as your smile slowly grew and you leaned in kissing him realising just how perfect you both were for each other… the butterflies within your stomach swirled desperately. Oh how you loved him and oh how he loved you.

[friendshipgirl]

Until Season 3 comes out, and until we get more spicy Brinky stuff, this is my comfort story that will keep my busy til then.

[justkeepwalkingnothinghere]

This reminds me of when I found Gorillie (wasn’t creative with names at the time), one of my best pals.

Years ago when I was about 6, my mom and I had played hooky from school one day because I was having a really rough week. We went to hang out at this mall that had a Rainforest Cafe, a mini Lego land, and a movie theater right next door.

We ate at Rainforest and stopped to buy some fun things at their little gift shop before heading over to the Legoland. We got ourselves watches (mine broke some years ago), a couple character plates (I dropped one at it shattered just last month), and as my mom was about to check out, I looked over at this stand full of stuffed plush gorillas. Gorillas have always been my favorite animal, so, naturally, 6 year old me ran to that stand as fast as my tiny legs would allow.

And in that stand, one of the gorillas sat a bit haphazardly, almost falling out. I took one glance at him and thought ‘That’s the one’. I picked him up, walked over to my mom, and said: “I think this gorilla needs a home”. After our purchases and making our way over to the mini Legoland, I gave him the name of Gorillie, and on that day, I had met one of my best pals.

The two, no, three of us, had a blast. To this day, I still love this little goober to death, I’ve slept with him nearly every night since then. He has always been there for me, for the best times, and the rough times. He’s been a symbol of comfort for me over the years, a title and noble deed that has been passed down from plush to plush. First with my Piglet plush that I’ve had since I was a baby, then to Doggy, my stuffed husky that has been there for my whole life, technically since before I was born (gift to me when my mom was still pregnant), and finally, to Gorillie.

Now, that’s not to say these titles don’t hold true for all of my friends, both stuffed and plush. They do! They always have, in fact! As my giant plush family grows, so does my love for them all. From dawn to dusk, day to day, year to year, as time has gone on, all of them have been there. Through my best days and my worst days. Quite a few live on my bed, watching over me as I sleep each night, the majority chill in a comfy net hanging in the corner of my room (how I would love to cuddle them all again, but my room is a disaster right now). Each and every memory treasured and remembered.

Plushies and stuffed animals are one of the greatest things you can have in life. They are amazing comfort and can become some of your bestest friends. They were made for this, for their owners both kid and adult to be able to tell stories like these one day. To help you when you need it most. To be there for you. To be hugged, cuddled, slept with, played with, taken on trips, grabbed and held close during panic or anxiety attacks or during a storm, and for so much more. Please, don’t take them for granted. Go, spend some time with yours. Enjoy it :)

sometimes plushies make me cry because it’s like. they’re little guys made to be loved. their only purpose is to be held and hugged and loved. we made them because we love making things and we love loving things. and they’re so cute

[littlestpersimmon]

Metamorphosis

[morganmnemonic]

I can't stop thinking about the relationship between Jon and Helen as perhaps one of the most important ones in the entire show. They are narrative parallels for each other, and they both know it. They've both known it from the very start!

Helen walks into the Archives, paranoid, unsure of who to trust, and Jon sees himself in her. And he thinks "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." Then he can't save her. The next time they meet, she's a monster. They're both monsters. There was never any other way their stories could have gone, their fates entwined from the very start.

And Helen answers his original thought with one of her own: "Maybe if we can help each other, there's hope for us both." But Jon looks at her and sees everything that he fears becoming, and so he turns her away, and refuses to accept that their stories are still one and the same.

Helen went to the last person who was ever kind to her, the only person who both knew her as a human and had the context to understand what she'd become, and he hated her. He hated her because he liked Helen, and told her that she couldn't be Helen.

So she stopped trying to be Helen, and embraced being a monster. Reveled in it even. Then Jon wakes up from a six month coma, more monster than person, and tries so hard to cling to the things that mattered to him when he was human. Even with no support, even with the entire archives staff against him, he chooses humanity and compassion over and over again.

And this is a direct threat to Helen's world view. Their stories are entwined. If Jon can continue to be a person even after everything he's been through, then she could have clung to her humanity too, if only she'd tried a little harder. And that terrifies her! She wants to conceptualize herself as someone who was completely overwhelmed by forces beyond her control, who never had a choice but to become a monster. She want's to be an innocent victim. But Jon argues with his actions that they'd both had choices.

And, Jon, in turn, holds out hope that she might make better choices until the very end.

This is the conflict between them for all of season 4 and 5. Jon wants to prove that they can both be decent people, and Helen wants to prove that they were never going to be anything but monsters. This is why she's so devoted to trying to goad Jon into enjoying his newfound godhood. She knows that they are the same, and wants that to mean that he has a spark of evil inside of him, and not that she was always capable of doing good.

When Jon kills her, she loses her life, but wins the argument. Helen is nothing but a dangerous monster who needs to be killed for the good of everyone, and in the moment he decides that, Jon dooms himself to the same fate. Their stories are one and the same. "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." he thought. But he couldn't help her, refused to, even, in the one moment when it actually mattered. And thus, there was never hope for him.

[noodles-and-tea]

For the twins in time AU, I genuinely wonder what kind of people the young twins grow up into because of Stan’s/Ford’s influence. Especially if it takes years for the portal to get fixed.

(Sorry if it seems like I already sent this question, I don’t know if it got sent the first time I asked)

I haven’t fully fleshed out how Ford grows up in the past but I do have thoughts on Stan presently

[0rchidm4ntis]

Thinking of that time Silver ran away from home

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[peachsukii]

The shower is a safe space for you to cry, to drain all of the pent up emotion you've held onto. Plus, it's the best place to hide this side of you from your roommate, Bakugo, whom you've had a crush on for ages. You did your damndest to hide your sorrow from him, not because you're ashamed, but you didn't want to sour the mood of the apartment. You two were good friends, you didn't need to bring down the vibe by whining about how sad you are.

You don't hear the front door to your apartment open and him announcing he's home like usual. He's not supposed to be home for hours, but unexpectedly got off of work early. The sound of the water hides his presence from you; however, it doesn't mute the sobs coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

His heart drops into his stomach, he's never heard you cry like that before.

Bakugo rushes to the door and hesitates. Maybe you wanted to be alone, but he couldn't just sit in the apartment and wait for you to stop crying. Would it be better to sit on the couch and wait it out? For you to come to him?

Logically, yes.

But he wasn't thinking logically.

He taps his knuckles against the door a few times.

"Hey, y'okay?" Bakugo calls out, waiting for your answer with baited breath. He hears you gasp, sniffling and coughing before composing yourself.

"Oh...I didn't think you'd be home, Kat. I'm fine."

"You're a shit liar, y'know," he teases, but you don't laugh. "Seriously, though. Are you okay?"

You hold your breath, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. Your answer slips out before you could stop yourself.

"...No."

It's a split second decision, but Bakugo opens the door and barges into the bathroom. He's rips back the shower curtain and carefully steps in behind you in a hurry, fully clothed, ignoring your obvious shock to his assertiveness. You're trying to shield yourself from him seeing you naked, but that all fades away when you feel his body engulf yours, holding you close against him under the stream of water.

He's so...warm.

"You can always tell me when somethin's wrong. Don't think I can't tell, or that I don't hear you cryin' at night. I don't want ya to hide from me," Bakugo whispers above you, hand holding the back of your head against his chest. "You're not alone, sweetheart."

You have no control over the tears rushing down your cheeks, mixing with the hot water and soaking into his clothes. You're shaking as you snake your arms around his waist and grip onto him for dear life.

No one's ever shown you this kind of support before - this kind of love.

"I got ya," he assures as he squeezes you tightly. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[slfcare]

When I was younger, I was in love with the idea of moving out to a lone island and never speaking to anyone again. I wasn’t good at talking, physically, nor did conversations come easy to me, so I kept quiet and I was totally fine with that. But while the people closest to me rolled their eyes at my wishes (again, lone island), nobody told me how talking to people was fun. Nobody told me how nice of a feeling it was to feel a new friendship blossom, to have inside jokes with people, to hand out compliments and get them back, to ask questions to people who are excited about having the answers, to remember something that someone mentioned last time and make them feel heard, to flatter people, to share slightly embarrassing facts and be able to laugh about them, to have people to say hi and bye to. It took me years and years and years to gather the courage to speak, but it was so worth it. It’s so much fun.

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Paparazzi

request: can you write one where Harry and y/n get swarmed by paparazzi really abruptly and one of them hurts her either accidentally or on purpose and Harry flips? Tysm!

A/N: I love this idea! Thanks so much. I found this gif and omg it’s of a fan who got hit by paparazzi and Harry stuck up for them immediately!! Such a kind soul and pretty convenient for this story… lol! Enjoy(:

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

“C’mon. It’s getting busy let’s just go home.” Harry’s voice was soft as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, lifting up the two small takeaway boxes that were filled with your left over food. It was always a risk being out in public especially for Harry because it would only take one person to spread the news then it would be nightmarish. He secured his arm further around you leaving a few money notes on the table as a tip for the waitress before he walked out with you keeping his arm around you, boxes of food held underneath his arm as you both walked in the direction of where Harry had parked.

As you continued walking Harry started looking around and you knew what that meant: paparazzi. He often had the knack for spotting cameras taking pictures of him and once again his “sixth sense” didn’t fail him. “Harry are they following us?” You asked anxiously his green eyes locking with yours “just keep walking.” His arm slid down to your waist as he began making you walk at his speed, attempting to lose the photographers— they weren’t even photographers. More like money hungry assholes who just loved to ruin every moment to get a simple picture of celebs. It was stupid. You leaned into harry further feeling your nerves wrap around you shaky breaths leaving your mouth.

“Mr styles!!”

“Harry over here!”

“How does it feel being in a relationship with the Harry styles?”

“Hold still!!”

Mixtures of yells came from all around you suddenly, loud running which sounded like a herd of elephants only made your heart race in your chest “keep your head down.” Harry spoke quietly and you did as he said, keeping your head down him doing the same as he kept a tight grip on you guiding you through the crowd of rowdy paps. Your eyes couldn’t comprehend the amount of flashes blurring your vision the brightness blinding you almost as the paparazzi continued to yell at you both, purposely getting in Harry’s way to get a shot of his face. God were you glad you were wearing jeans. You had heard horror stories of paparazzis taking pictures up celebs partners dresses or skirts which was beyond fucked. “Have you got anymore upcoming films?” One paparazzi spoke to Harry, god they were not giving up were they. “You’ll find out soon enough.” Harry muttered harshly through gritted teeth, yet his lips remained in a thin line making him look calm despite wanting to punch their faces.

“Y/n does Harry satisfy you in—“ “hey, man shut the fuck up.” Harry demanded glaring into the paparazzis eyes, the man right in front of you as all the other greedy men took loads of pictures of Harry’s face Harry quickly pulled you round to his other side getting you further away from the vile man before he grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers with yours, repositioning the food into his other hand as he pulled you gently through the crowd. Snaps of the cameras were heard as the lenses focused on Harry’s face, his eyes, your terrified expression some of the photos blurry and unusable but some good the paparazzi’s clearly proud of their work yet they didn’t stop.

“We’re so hungry Harry! We’ve been working all night whilst you fondue with your girlfriend!” Fondue? Was this pap serious? For fucks sake. You rolled your eyes before Harry abruptly stopped shoving the food into the paps arms “there. Take the food and leave us be.” He demanded the one pap immediately leaving clearly happy. God did you hope he didn’t try to sell “Harry styles’ food’ on eBay. Harry tugged you further away as the car soon came into view until all of that went to the back of Harry’s mind as suddenly one of the paparazzis behind you purposely pushed you hard— taking a picture of you as you plummeted to the ground, camera catching your ass the cruel man grinning— Harry’s grip on your hand making sure you didn’t hurt yourself as he quickly helped you stand up again before he looked back at the paparazzi “it’s so rude to do that” he spat out, glaring at the man Harry’s jaw remaining clenched “did you take a picture of that?” He soon asked taking a threatening step towards the man “harry…” you whispered yet your voice was drowned out by the sound of the cameras taking hundreds of pictures their desperation showing. “No.” He spoke smirking but Harry wasn’t impressed instead ripping the camera from the man’s neck before looking through the pictures which consisted of your ass more than anything Harry’s eyes dangerous as he looked at the photographer with cold eyes “how fucking dare you.” He spoke before shaking his head “you’re going to delete all these pictures right fucking now.” He demanded you reaching out to touch his arm “harry its okay I—“ “no way am I doing that. That’s all my work.” Harry clenched his jaw but tried to remain calm “fine. Thanks for the free camera.” He spoke coldly before shoving the man back and grabbing onto your hand again as he hurriedly pushed past the paparazzis ignoring their yells as he walked you to his car opening the door for you helping you get in before he shut the door,

“That’s my camera mr styles! You take it and I’ll sue you!” The man yelled Harry glancing at him knowing he shouldn’t do this but he didn’t care at this point “here— catch” he threw the camera at the man, the camera sliding through the man’s hand and crashing to the ground the lens smashing “oh no. That was your fault.” Harry spoke sarcastically before he got into his car shutting the door and locking the car before he reversed, the tyre of his car rolling over the camera— the paparazzi shouting, hitting the window “you’re so done!” He yelled at Harry and Harry paused rolling down the window “you have an issue. I’ll see you in court.” He spoke simply knowing the man wouldn’t even dare to take it to court as he would have a whole lot of list of allegations against him. Sexual assault. Assault. GBH. Everything. Harry then drove off abruptly his hands clenched around the steering wheel you breathing heavily as you stared down at your hands, hands trembling slightly. Harry didn’t say anything the whole drive but eventually his hand came down to rest against your thigh which he squeezed gently, thumb caressing over the material of your jeans attempting to comfort you.

“Are you okay?” He soon spoke only earning a nod from you, the car stopped at a red light before he reached over grabbing onto your chin gently as he forced you to look at him “are you okay?” You nodded sighing shakily “they’re just assholes.” You murmured softly and Harry chuckled “assholes one way to describe them… they’re greedy for money and attention. Something I won’t give them.” You sighed holding onto his hand tightly “I won’t let that happen again, y/n.” He spoke but he was promising that he wouldn’t let it happen again. No way. He then intertwined his fingers with yours bringing your hand up to his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your hand but he meant it. If the paparazzi tried to do anything again he wouldn’t just let them off with a warning— he’d break all their cameras even if he had to pay for new ones he didn’t care. Cameras could be replaced. You couldn’t…. And he knew that damn well. He couldn’t lose you, ever. He wouldn’t.

[cringefail-clown]

comfort

a birthday gift for @borzoilover69 !!! happy borth dude, your dirkjakes bring me so much joy <3

[bread4innie]

me: i love reading angst

me reading angst:

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiiiii can you do a jealous Alastor but not of anyone but his own shadows bc his wifey takes a liking on one of his shadows.

Oooh! I like this quite a lot! It’s very interesting and unique! Once again, beloved hubby Alastor! Another one I want to explore hubby of is Blitz. I think Blitz would make a good hubby

Alastor- Picking Favourites

Alastor’s furious, steaming from his deer-like ears so hot that it’s basically boiling him… did somebody hurt his ego? No. Did Angel Dust sexually advance on him again? No. Did his breakfast get interrupted by the Hotel Manager? NO. Nothing has inconvenienced him but something awful has been happening, day by day, that he can barely keep his composure

Hearing your laughter directed at something else felt like a puncture stab wound to his throat, but knowing your laughter is directed at his mere sentient shadow basically gutted him in the stomach with a sharp butcher knife right after. You’re his wife, his missus, his realm, the woman he has been fawning over for so long and you’re hitting it up with his sentient silent shadow?!

Of course, Alastor’s fascinating lively shadow is just being nice to it’s master’s recently wedded spouse, and is trying to get you accustom to being around so much Voodoo magic and the weirdness that is Alastor himself so it’s being all caring and leading you about, showing you items and teaching you Alastor’s favourite foods

But that doesn’t mean Alastor isn’t jealous… because he is, he’s really jealous

Whilst he reads through a interesting crime fiction novel, Alastor’s tall fluffy deer-like ears flick up at the sound of your voice. He can’t sense his voodoo-magic induced shadow, meaning that it’s wondered off to you and as he suspected, you enter your husband’s soothingly silent fireplace-warmed accompanied by Alastor’s sentient shadow. It cant really talk but it makes all kinds of humming and echoey noises. It almost seems like you understand it…

Alastor’s patience, throughout every time he hears this, has finally shattered to pieces as his claws dig into the book in his hand, snapping his fingers. The shadow directly mirroring your husband’s look, fades away into thin air as if it was a big fire and a bucket of water was dumped on the top of it, rising up into streams of smoke. It’s gone and you’re confused on why it disappeared

“Darling. Why are you getting so handsy with my friend?”

Alastor almost growls out with his deep scowl… this is possibly the first ever time you and Hell will ever see Alastor frown and frown so deeply he is… it’s kinda unnatural to look at but when Alastor willingly frowns and can’t pull himself to smile, it means he is more than pissed off… you didn’t think just being polite and going along with your husband’s voodoo magic shadow being would ever cause a problem

It’s just that Alastor’s love for you is so strong that it causes jealousy to concur and even jealousy over just some magic creating a shadowy being. Something that is sentient but mainly tied to it’s owner, to Alastor and he is jealous of his own creation

Approaching your beloved husband, the Radio Demon, you lean over, pushing back his somewhat messy crimson red bangs and kisses directly over the pale red almost bullet-sized ‘x’ on the flesh of his forehead. That ‘x’ is the biggest weak spot on Alastor, a symbol of his shame and where his pride can be hurt the most but he doesn’t mind showing off all his weaknesses and vulnerabilities to you… he had already told you about his human life

What’s one little kiss on that ‘x’ going to do?

Pulling back. It’s almost like the single kiss had melted away all his anger and Alastor is now just a soft innocent fluffy little fawn with his crimson red eyes almost sparkling at the affection. He didn’t suspect that, he suspected this’d turn into some big fight but you’re not going to argue, you’re going to explain yourself

“Alastor… Al, my love. I wasn’t replacing you with your shadow buddy. He was just trying to help me get accustom to being your wife. I’ve never been married before and being married to the Radio Demon… it’s. It requires a lot of adjusting so he was just trying to help”

Alastor couldn’t help but feel a bit bad about his half temper tantrum. Of course, why would his shadow even care about having a spouse of its own? It doesn’t, it cares about you being the best wife for its master so it’s trying to help and get you more comfortable. Yes, he is still jealous that you didn’t come to him and go to a shadow… but he does really appreciate all the effort and the wish to not rely on him in order to impress him

After taking a deep breath whilst placing his bigger clawed hand on the smaller clawed hand of yours over his cheek, gently fondling the soft skin over his face. Alastor rhythmically brushes his own fingers over the smooth skin of your hand briefly. Controlling himself, controlling his emotions and then finally saying whilst opening his eyes again to meet yours

Just… such beautiful eyes

“My dear… I appreciate the efforts but please, don’t think you can’t come to me to learn. We’re husband and wife, we work together. You don’t need to go to my friends for that advice”

[parasolladyansy]

TW: angst, some blood (also PLA spoilers)

From @waywardstation’s “It’s Nothing Personal, It’s Just Business”

What started off as a collection of sketches turned into this short, sketchy comic based on the climax & cool down of the story (the latter being the part I reread the most). I really love genuinely good men who end up being a found father to someone who needs help, & just about every fic Wayward made about Ingo & Akari does just that.

When I played Legends Arceus, I think I might’ve had the Volo twist spoiled for me? I can’t remember. It made me wonder if I could’ve, as Ingo does in the story, see him for what he was. Wayward very astutely points out how his behavior is very predatory; that alone tells me I probably would’ve been unnerved at least.

Meanwhile, Mizumi probably would’ve been taken by surprise as Akari was in the story (maybe?) - an idea to explore at another time!