#even if it's not that much but some of y'all are active and just kinda. ignore shit fr.

[pekoeboo]

just thinking again (based on some of this blog's activity)... I felt it was probably worth saying that if you've followed me for Nicktoons Unite or Danny Phantom content, please don't be expecting any more. I have no plans to ever draw it again and while I've tried to be appreciative of the fact that ppl still seem to like that content, it does make me sad that that's the only thing that still gets the most attention on this blog even tho I want nothing to do with it anymore 😔

obviously I'd love if I was only known for my OC content but I know that's not how the internet works, lol. I'm trying my best but judging by the constant influx of activity just for Nicktoons and DP (and the fact that all of the blogs recommended on this blog are phandom-related and have been for 6 freaking years 😭), it seems like I'll never escape that being the only thing most of tumblr associates this blog with. wahhh

anyway. just letting y'all know that like. if you've been following me for a while with the expectation of someday seeing new art within those fandoms, you might as well look elsewhere because I'll just disappoint you ><;; rip

[gamebunny-advance]

Confession

I recently fell into the Ace Attorney rabbit hole, and I don't know if I'm capable of climbing back out.

[koka-mi]

vent under the cut you don't need to read if you don't want to!!!!!!!

I honestly hateee opening up or oversharing with ppl. it's kind of like eating for me where it feels okay in the moment but then afterwards I just feel awful. it feels like I'm attention seeking or saying someone else's experience isn't valid for some reason and it sucks. I don't do it at all with ppl I just met but with friends I tend to get carried away with it sometimes,,,

It hurts even more because I've been distancing myself from ppl bcz I'm scared of this exact thing happening. People have messaged me before, saying I seem cool and they want to be friends. And I get happy in the moment, but then I get really anxious about accidentally getting too comfortable and blurting out personal things, because then their opinion of me will wane and they'll think I'm annoying or ungrateful. So I subconsciously begin to distance myself and take a while when responding to messages, because I'm scared of getting too comfortable with them. But now I'm anxious that they think I'm cold or distant and that I secretly don't like them. It's just a lose lose situation mannn </3

I have so many DMs I've put off responding to, and I've stopped talking in servers as much bcz I'm scared of getting close with ppl in them. I really feel bad for it, though. I've drifted from friends bcz of that and it sucks because I genuinely love them a lot. I love everyone I talk to a lot and they always make my day better--I just wish I could be the same for them. I feel like it's a chore to talk to me. I honestly don't know what to do. It's even worse when I get close to someone bcz they like what I make/post because again, now that they've seen how I really am and I've opened up, they more than likely see me as annoying or a bad person. Like it hurts enough whenever we become friends naturally talking, but if it's with someone who's seen me at my "best" and has seen things I work on or stories I've created, they ofc associate me with those things, and their expectations of me are through the roof. So when I disappoint them it hurts a lot more. I hate getting attached to people it hurts so much

[demarogue]

Gettin' Through the Holidays Mental Health Tricks

If y'all are anything like me, this time of year is triggering AF. Here are some small, very easy grounding exercises that I was taught by my therapist, basically in order of how much I like them for this rage-inducing season. You make like them in a different order, depending on your rage-to-despair ratio.

Push a wall: literally go up to a wall and try to push it over. Really try. I promise you won't push it over, but give it your best shot. Try to hold it as long as you can, and then take a breather and assess whether you need to repeat. Why it works: This is a quick, physical expulsion of the fight-or-flight feeling. It's a bit like punching a wall, but without the potential to hurt yourself/look scary/damage things. You can even do it in front of people and say you're stretching, they'll never know (unless the wall actually falls down, but this will not happen, I assure you).

Shake like a dog: Animals shake to release stress, and you are also an animal. Setting aside time to just shake it out, as vigorously as you can, arms and legs, face, stick your tongue out, pretend you're shaking like a wet dog. You can dance instead, if that feels better, and you can do this to music, but basically the more unhinged you can be, the better. If you are in a place you can scream, scream too! Why it works: like the above, this is a release of pent-up stress and anxiety. Especially if your rage-to-woe ratio is high, some kind of physical exertion is often the best way to burn through the cortisol and adrenaline you're building up.

Bilateral Tapping: Cross your arms over your chest so that your fingertips are at your shoulders, and slowly tap, one hand at a time, back and forth, for about a minute. Breathe slowly. Why it works: This is weird as hell, but because this engages both sides of your brain, it helps override the activity of the amygdala, which is the part of your brain that Makes The Fear. If you're being literally triggered in a situation, i.e. you're having a trauma response, or reliving some family trauma, this is a good one.

Box Breathing: From a comfortable position (can really be seated, laying down or standing), inhale slowly for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, exhale for a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, then repeat. You can do it for shorter counts or longer counts, but if you vary the counts make sure the exhale is longer than the inhale. You can close your eyes or leave them open. Why it works: This exercise helps you move from a sympathetic (activated) nervous system response to a parasympathetic (balanced) response. I do this one every day, and it's a good gateway to meditation. Especially helpful in anxious or tense situations, but I find if I'm very triggered I need one of the other ones first, or it can make anxiety worse. Breathwork is amazing but not usually as a first exercise if you're very activated, or have been activated a long time.

Ice: Lots of ways to do this one – hands in cold water for 30 seconds, ice pack on the back of your neck, dip your entire face into a bowl of ice water (this one's the most effective). Why it works: I kinda think this is hilarious, but this activates your mammalian dive reflex. It immediately slows your heart-rate, so if you are feeling your blood pressure and heart rate rising, this one is very good. The only reason this one's at the bottom of my list is because I hate being cold.

I wish you all a very get-through-the-holidays-without-hurting-yourself. Take time alone if you need it.

[realcube]

Could you do a Saiki x touch-starved reader

(Also I love your writes!❤️)

SAIKI K x touch-starved! reader hcs

☆ saiki is very apprehensive to touch you

☆ mostly because he's not naturally very physically affectionate

☆ and also because if he gets too flustered he might accidentally level a whole country , ya never know

☆ but if he can read your thoughts so when he finds out that you're eager for hugs and cuddles n all that sweet stuff

☆ he learns to deal with it

☆ and finds ways to touch you that work for both of you

☆ he likes to sit next to you , shoulder to shoulder, just on the couch while y'all are watching something or on the floor while playing video games

☆ it sounds awkward and that's because it kinda is but he considers it to be peak intimacy

☆ and massages !!

☆ he doesn't mind giving / receiving massages at all , especially from you , in fact he really enjoys it

☆ that is the most at peace you will ever see him

☆ though iirc it's canon that trying to rub his back feels like chipping away at stone, but you make it work somehow.. perhaps a chisel ??

☆ he also pats your head, another thing that you might find awkward but comes naturally to him in terms of affection

☆ he's very hesitant to cuddle because he's afraid his super strength might activate and he might crush you

☆ if you're tried and you ask him to carry you to your bed , assuming he'd pick you up bridal style and you'd have a cute moment

☆ you couldn't be more wrong because he'll pick you up with one hand carry you to your bed like a platter of shrimp

☆ he is even very nervous about holding hands because again, super strength

☆ and it makes him feel the tiniest bit bad because like.. he is depriving you of normal boyfriend/couple experiences bc he's a psychic

☆ bc if he was just a normal boy, he'd find a way to overcome his adversity to touch and physical affection for you because he knows you like it and it's the least he can do

☆ but it's obviously a bit harder when you're a psychic

☆ sometimes he practises by hugging pillows but that usually just results in torn pillowcases and feathers/cotton like.. everywhere

☆ and plus the stakes are a lot higher when it comes to you so he's more likely to get anxious and mess something up

☆ but he makes up for it by being sweet in ways you might not expect

☆ like he tends to feed you desserts a lot, and he doesn't even realise how intimate it can be, he just thinks of it as normal to want to share some of his favourite food with a person he loves

☆ and if you get a bit of icing on your lips, he'll wipe it with a napkin for you

☆ he also doesn't mind it when you touch him

☆ since less can go wrong that way

☆ like you could legitimately start using him and human jungle gym and he couldn't care less

☆ in fact, he secretly enjoys it

☆ sometimes you think you can catch him out and surprise him with a hug attack but of course that hardly ever works because... he's psychic

☆ so you'll just pounce on him and instead of falling over like most ppl would, he stays upright and you are left hugging and clinging onto him like he's a tree

☆ also he'll never admit it but he loves lil kiss on the cheek !!

☆ makes him feel very much loved and afterwards and so enamoured and he thinks he does a good job at hiding it but you can always tell bc his expression goes from 😐 to 🙂

☆ a very subtle difference but you as his s/o notice it immediately

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Me U & Hennessy: Toman Founders x Fem Reader

♡ NSFW, vibes → smut, drug use (only weed) + hints at a blunt rotation, alcohol, established relationship for each scenario, public sex, bathroom sex, closet sex, unprotected sex + creampie, sex while intoxicated, oral (fem and male receiving), discreet thigh riding, thighjob, fingering, pet names + praise, and biting, this was unfortunately proofread and my eyes are killing me, buckle up because this is a long read ♡

note 1: This includes all of the Toman founders and is kinda different from what I normally write. I loved writing this (Baji’s part especially) and I'm super proud of how this turned out!

note 2: Huge thank you to @i-literally-cant-with-this for planting this idea in my head and offering help. Sarah I love you 😭🩷

note 3: This is the last note I swear and it's probably the most important one too…I HIT 100 FOLLOWERS AND 2500 LIKES 🥳 I love y'all so much 😭

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Playing cards, snacks, and shot glasses littered the living room table of Mitsuya’s apartment. It was the up and coming fashion designer’s turn to host Toman’s weekly get together and you all took advantage of it by having a smoke sesh. Draken pointed the blunt in your direction, you tried to hold your hand up in an attempt to decline but instinctively grabbed it instead. You were stoned out of your mind and kinda tipsy off a couple shots of henny, so it was probably a good idea to pass it to Mitsuya.

Smoke crowded the room, forcing Baji to open the window. “Baji close the window, it's freezing man!” Kazutora whined while curling up on the couch next to you. “I’m tryna air the room out dipshit! Go get a blanket if you’re cold!” “You two argue like a goddamn married couple.” Draken intervened, chuckling with Mitsuya (who was actively coughing his lungs up). This is essentially how every smoke sesh with them went. Baji and Kazutora arguing, Draken and Mitsuya laughing at everything like two schoolgirls, Mikey raiding the kitchen every five minutes, and Pah-Chin being super quiet and just absorbing the chaos going on around him. Me U & Hennessy by DeJ Loaf blasted in the background, filling your head with unholy thoughts and your inebriation only elevated your desire to fuck. And it most certainly didn’t go unnoticed.

Mikey 💠

As Mikey walked back into the living room his eyes landed on you, noticing the way your breathing became heavy. He walked over to the couch and asked if you wanted to go outside for some fresh air, seemingly oblivious to the way your eyes were devouring him. You two slid out the front door of Mitsuya’s apartment, making your way outside and behind the apartment's staircase. Mikey immediately broke the silence before you could say anything. “So what’s bothering you?” “Nothing’s-” “Shut it! I know you better than that, it’s so obvious that you’re soaked right now.”

You couldn’t even argue with him, he was right for once. “You wanna get fucked right? Prove how bad you want it then.” On instinct you got on your knees as Mikey unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. He tapped the tip of his dick on your outstretched tongue before slipping the entirety of his length in your mouth. He paused when he felt you gag around him, giving you a moment to adjust to the fullness you felt in your throat. “You look so pretty when you’re choking on my dick ♡” The praise combined with the dirtiness of his words invigorated you, pushing past the slight pain in your throat you started bobbing your head. When you could tell when he was close you started to speed up and pay extra attention to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and leaving kisses on it. “Fuck that’s it, just like that princess~” You quickly slipped him back in your mouth before he came, desperate to feel his hot load go down your throat. He gripped the back of your neck as he came, grunting and praising you all the while. “You better be ready to get fucked when we get home princess, I’m gonna be inbetween your legs all night ♡”

Draken 🐉

After almost laughing himself to death with Mitsuya, Draken noticed the way you shifted on the couch. The way your thighs rubbed together in discomfort. “Hey y/n, you okay? Need me to walk you to the bathroom?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice. “Yeah I actually do.” You got up and followed Draken’s lead into the narrow hallway, stopping at a door that most definitely wasn’t the bathroom. “This isn’t the bathroom.” Draken opened the door to what looked like a supply closet. “Why would I take you to the bathroom if I know that's not what you need right now?” He walked in the closet, beckoning you to follow him. Normally you’d refuse, especially since you were in Mitsuya’s house, but he was just so tempting. You walked into the closet, closing and locking the door behind you.

Before you knew it you two were undressed and he had you bent over with your hands gripping a shelf. His thick cock stretching your tight little pussy with each thrust. If it wasn’t for you biting your lip, your moans would be heard citywide. “So fucking tight, feel so good wrapped around me.” “Faster~” “Oh yea? You want it faster darling? I'll give it to you as fast as you want ♡” Lewd noises filled the closet as Draken pounded into you, hands squeezing your hips tighter and tighter until he finally filled you up. He stayed inside you, not wanting a single drop of his cum to leak out of your cunt. “Let's just stay like this for a while, okay babydoll?”

Baji 🔥

“Baji close the damn windows!” Kazutora yelled at him for the tenth time in a row. “Okay fine, I’ll close the damn windows!” Baji yelled back, annoyed about having to get up again to close the windows he just opened. As he finished closing the windows he turned to Kazutora. “There you happy now?” “Very happy, thank you.” You could hear Baji mumble under his breath as he walked towards the glass door of Mitsuya’s balcony. “I’m gonna go get some air.” He stated, as if anyone other than you were listening. After a few minutes you got up from the couch to join him on the balcony, which probably wasn’t the safest thing considering you just consumed alcohol not that long ago. Baji looked in your direction as you stepped out onto the balcony.

“Hey cutie! Decided to join me?” You nodded in agreement, blushing at the pet name. “Come here pretty girl, lemme hold you.” You walked over to the railing of the balcony, letting him wrap his strong arms around your waist. The cool night air felt so good on your warm skin, but what felt even better was Baji’s hands roaming your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how warm you are?” His hands slid down to undo your pants. “I remember you mentioning how you’ve always wanted to fuck on a balcony.” “Baji…I wasn’t being serious. I was probably drunk when I said it anyway.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Nah, you were dead sober, so I know it wasn’t the henny talking. Lemme fuck those pretty thighs~” He softly bit into your neck as he slid your pants and panties down far enough for him to comfortably slide inbetween your thighs.

“You’re so fucking warm baby, dripping wet too. You been waiting for this haven’t you?” You could only nod in agreement as his girthy cock slid between your thighs, going back and forth across your soaking wet pussy. The tip of his dick brushing up against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You were so fucked out and he didn't even put it in. You never even considered that the rest of the guys might see you two, or the fact that you were literally outside. But that didn't matter, not when Baji was biting on your neck and shoulder, nibbling on your ear, and telling you how good you felt. “You feel so good, taste good too. Just can't get enough of you.” Baji’s thrusts started to become sloppier, but he quickly composed himself because he knew exactly what he wanted. He slid his hand between your legs, playing with your clit while he slowly rubbed his cock between your slick folds. As you gushed all over his length, he slipped inside you, filling your pussy with his cum and keeping you warmer than a shot of Henny ever could.

Kazutora 🐅

As Baji proceeded to ignore his complaints about the cold air from the windows, Kazutora decided to actually follow his advice and try to find a blanket. “Hey y/n, come with me to find a blanket real quick?” You two made your way through the hallway, checking closets filled with fabrics and sewing equipment. Kazutora stumbled upon the bathroom and decided to go through the cabinet under the sink. “Kazutora I don't think there's any blankets under there.” You giggled while sitting down on the edge of the tub. “Well duh, I know that. I'm just snooping around a little.” After finding nothing of interest he closed the cabinet, turning his attention to you.

He walked over and crouched down in front of you, laying his head on your thighs. He whimpered underneath you as your fingers gently ran through his hair. “Lemme taste you angel~” He mumbled into your thighs. You didn’t even get a chance to respond before he started taking off your pants, desperate to get a taste of you. “Tora slow down, you act like I’m gonna slip through your fingers.” His muffled response reverberated through your body as he buried his face between your legs, leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He practically started drooling when he slid your panties off, taking a moment to admire your pretty pussy before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer. His tongue circled your clit, sliding between your wet folds to gather as much of your juices on his tongue as he could. He didn’t even bother to praise you, he was far too invested in devouring you to pull away. As the heat in your body built up you gripped his hair, grinding your pussy on his face. His grip on your thighs loosened, allowing you to squeeze his head in between them, letting himself become engulfed in your drenched cunt.

Pah-Chin 🔷

The heat growing between your legs started to become unbearable, prompting you to head to the kitchen for some water to cool you off and maybe sober you up a little. As you chugged a bottle of water you felt a pair of strong hands grip your waist, almost making you choke on the water. You looked back only to be greeted by Pah’s face, his head resting on your shoulder. “Jeez Pah, you scared the hell outta me! Do you need something?” “No, but I can tell that you do.” His hand slid from your waist to the waistband of your pants as he placed delicate kisses on your neck. “Really, in the kitchen of all places? The guys might see us!” “It’s fine baby, just trust me.”

He unbuttoned your pants and slid his calloused hand into your underwear, circling your clit with his middle finger. “You’re so fucking wet for me, lemme take care of you.” His thick fingers worked their way inside you, stretching you out. It was so hard to stay quiet as his fingers went in and out, curling into you and hitting every spot you liked. “You close sugar? I'm not stopping til you cream on my fingers ♡” He didn't have to wait long, as the knot in your stomach unraveled and you finished all over his fingers. Not even a full minute later, with his hand still in your pants, he was asking for more. “You think you can gimme another one baby?”

Mitsuya 🪻

As the smoke in the room started to clear, Mitsuya looked over at you. His eyes scanned every inch of your body, mesmerized by you. He didn’t know if it was the weed heightening his senses or if you’ve always looked as attractive as you did now, and he couldn’t care less. He just wanted you, needed to feel your warmth against him. “Hey love, why don’t you come sit on my lap?” The tone in his voice was so sweet and inviting, how could you deny him? You got up from your place on the couch and positioned yourself on his lap, eventually shifting to just sitting on one of his thighs. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close and kissing your shoulder.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “I want you to use me to get off ♡” “Taka, not now we-” Mitsuya held his finger against your lips, politely signaling you to shut up. “It’s okay love, I’ll be discreet. Just be as quiet as you can, okay?” You nodded, relaxing in his grip as he slowly rocked your hips back and forth. The music playing from Draken’s bluetooth speaker blared throughout the room, masking the small whimpers you made as Mitsuya put more force on your hips, increasing the friction between his thigh and your clothed cunt. “Go ahead and cum for me pretty baby ♡” You bit your lip to conceal the moan that threatened to spill from your mouth as you came, leaving your panties a soaked mess. “Wanna continue this in my room sweetheart?”

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel , @trevengersprincess , @happy-trenchcoated-impala , @giugiette

[neiptune]

just her color

cw: 2.7 wc, female reader, violence, gore, it gets pretty descriptive, slightly nsfw (y'all have sex lol), dark academia(ish) setting

“A girl has been found dead on campus” Jean’s brows are furrowed as he skims through his twitter timeline “shit, I think I know who she is?”

“What?” Sasha straightens up in her seat, iced latte promptly put down. The table grows silent, you’ve grabbed Jean’s wrist to peek at his screen in disbelief. Someone dying at your college, the most boring place on earth, is difficult to believe.

“Holy shit” you let go of your friend’s wrist and meet Sasha’s gaze “it’s Yuki. Remember? She used to be in our history class”

She opens her mouth in a small “o”, realization freezing her surprised features.

“Nakamura Yuki?” Eren’s breath catches in his throat “that’s impossible, I literally saw her last week. Didn’t she tutor students with you, ‘Min?”

“Yeah but that was last year” Armin shakes his head “what the hell happened? From what I remember she didn’t care for parties or weird companies”

“Not sure, they’re jut saying she’s been found outside her dorm” Jean puts away his phone with a grim look on his face, cappuccino long forgotten. Connie used to have a crush on that girl, he hopes to find him before he has the chance to get the news from social media.

“Do you guys think it was an accident?” all pigment seems to have been sucked out of Eren’s face and you instinctively push back some of the hair from his forehead.

“An accident? What d’you mean?” you tilt your head to the side, pose the question carefully weighing each word.

“I don’t know. Alcohol poisoning? Maybe someone spiked her drink?”

A shudder teases your spine, almost makes you retract your hand. “So you’re saying… someone did it?”

“Not on purpose. I’m just speculating”

“Why?” Sasha chimes in “stop it, it’s weird. If something’s off, the school is gonna tell us”

“Yeah, right, they definitely will” you scoff.

“Maybe it was like a heart attack” Armin seems unconvinced himself as he finishes his tea, surely gone cold by now.

“Sure, that sounds likely” you push back the mug containing your black coffee, suddenly nauseous “next time my parents ask how things are going up here, I’ll finally have the perfect answer. Oh, you’ll never guess the novelty: girls are being murdered on campus now!”

“No one’s been murdered” Eren is annoyed and eager to change the subject. Everyone else is too. You kinda get it: it’s weird that a girl you all somehow knew is suddenly dead, it’s even weirder that something so dreadful had to happen on your campus of all places.

On the slopes of mount Rokko, in Kobe, nothing really ever happens. You attend a private university that counts a few thousand students and an international exchange program that no one really ever applies to. Your professors like to call the insistution “Kobe’s best kept secret” but to you that’s just a pretentious way to present an old school with an even older set of rules that simply make your lives excruciatingly harder. No visits allowed except for graduations or special ceremonies, everyone is supposed to be in their rooms by 9:30 pm (as security keeps a record of students who are caught roaming in the corridors at night), no one is allowed to leave the building except for Sundays and even then if you don’t have your identity card with you, the chances that you’ll spend the night in the woods are pretty high because security doesn’t really give a shit.

But if they don’t mind leaving students locked outside for the night (it has happed), the appreciation for bribes runs equally high: it’s not uncommon among students to offer as much as ¥308,230 to buy their silence for a plethora of activities. Money is power even on top of mount Rokko and it can be used to secure sex, parties, drugs, alcohol, just like it does anywhere else.

Which is why everyone seems to be asking themselves the same question: who the hell used money to secure an assassination?

Soon after the finding and despite the rector’s efforts, Yuki’s picture was passed around in group chats and social media posts like a collectible card. Most senders had the decency to forward the blurred version of the photo but pretty much everyone saw the first, original variant, and the school couldn’t keep it a secret for a minute longer: a murder it was.

You spent the following days unable to get proper sleep, eyes wide open scanning the ceiling for the majority of the night, the image of that girl’s empty, horrified stare chasing you until dawn, pulse rapidly tapping against your skin at the thought. Sasha doesn’t speak of her nightmares but you’re sure they resemble your own dreams: one hand pointlessly closed around a pale throat slashed open, the dark halo of thin hair framing a face gone cold, liquid red lipstick smeared across lips like a macabre tribute to joker.

If few can get out of the school, basically no stranger can step foot inside. Which means, and every single female student is painfully aware of it, that they are sharing their campus with a killer.

You’ve all been moving in packs lately, no girl has been seen wandering around the school without her friends or boyfriend and you’re no exception: if Sasha is almost always escorted by Jean and Connie, Eren basically refuses to leave your side and has been staying the night more and more often.

“I know cops freak you out” he tries to keep the spirits high, indulges in some humor to ease part of the tension in your shoulders as the investigation unfolds and strangers search your dorm a million times.

“Pigs” you utter under your breath shortly before flashing a smile to one of the officers you pass by on your way to class “how dumb d’you have to be to be still groping in the dark? They’re clueless”

He shrugs, trying hard to suppress a smirk because what the hell, they’re only there because a girl has been murdered and it wouldn’t be appropriate to smile “they’ll never figure it out anyway”

You look up at him, confusion evident by the crease between your brows. Eren clears his throat.

“Everyone knows the school wants to handle this shit internally” he lowers his voice in a murmur “I wouldn’t be surprised if the rector was actually trying to get rid of them”

“What the fuck? Why would he do that? Parents are already freaking out, threatening to pick up their kids and cancel their enrollments, does the rector want to reign over an abandoned bulk of shitty old bricks?”

“How much did you look into those articles about our school that Armin sent us last year?” Eren tilts his head a little, an amused twitch of the lips indicating that he’s about to do the thing you hate the most: be a smartass.

“Not much” you stand defeated and your boyfriend grins.

“It’s not the first time someone’s died here, Gako has a pretty long history of secret societies that are believed to have performed some fucked up initiations. It’s mainly why we don’t have them anymore, at least officially. The degree of independence from the rectorate was pretty high, they essentially had an agreement: vivit et vivet”.

“What?” your brows furrow, skeptical. Eren basks in your confusion.

“Live and let live. Keep your nose out of our business and we’ll do our best to stay discreet”

You refrain from asking where the fuck he even learned latin as a more urgent question arises. “But why would the rectorate even agree?”

“Those students came from some of the richest, most influential families of the Taisho era. Gako cares a lot about history and tradition and…”

“Prestige”

Eren nods.

“They kept the money flowing and the name shining. Those societies were Gako, I bet our current rector himself is an ex member of the Cauda Venenum or whatever the fuck it was”

There’s a pause as the story sinks in, all the implications that single revelation could hold. “Wow. You seem to have really enjoyed those articles, Armin must’ve been thrilled”

He laughs a bit at that and shrugs, pulls you closer to his body, pretends not to notice the inkling shadow of suspicion quivering beneath the surface of your words.

You don’t point out that what happened to Yuki is far from resembling an initiation, nor you dwell on the main undertone of the entire conversation: if what Eren said is true, the case could very well remain unsolved and the murderer would be allowed to roam free through the halls, perhaps for evermore. The mere thought sends a chill down your spine. Vivit et vivet.

The Yuki topic is banned from being discussed with Sasha, she gets nervous really easily and is already painfully on edge every single day. Despite Jean and Connie basically never leaving her side, you know part of her wishes she had a boyfriend to rely on or keep close at night, one that would pull her into him as she wakes up from those hellish nightmares, chest heaving painfully. That’s precisely why you don’t bring up Eren to her: not his weirdly cemented assumptions, not the fact that you want to keep your distance for at least a day or two. And so, as it often happens, Armin becomes the designated listener to all your bitching and moaning.

“He’s just being weird, I guess” you grumble over breakfast, a portion of blueberry pancakes covered in dense syrup “and I don’t know how to make it clear to him”

“How to make what clear to him?”

“That he’s giving me the creeps”

Your friend chuckles at that.

“I’m sure Eren’s simply as freaked out as everyone else, he’s just trying to make sense out of the whole thing. I do appreciate that at least someone went through the material I shared, though”

“I was plannin’ to” you protest “eventually”

“Sure you were” Armin rolls his eyes but there’s fondness in his resigned gaze.

A comfortable silence drapes over the two of you as you keep eating, the chatter floating around the mess hall reaches you like the rolling of heavy, long sea waves. There’s a storm raging outside, although not much can be seen from the stained glass windows that are closer to the vaulted ceilings than the long, wooden tables filled with students. The only real indicators are the distant rumbling of the thunder and a group of pupils who barged through the doors soaked from head to toe.

“I know you’re just as scared, y’know” Armin calmly cuts through the silence, eyes on his now empty plate “even if you always wanna act all tough”

“Yes, I’ll admit I’m slightly nervous at the idea that a murderer is currently wandering around our school and that our rector may very well be doing nothing to actually find said homicidal maniac” the words come out harsher than intended so you try to soften them around the edges “sorry, I just… it’s shitty. And I feel like I don’t get to complain because I have a boyfriend who is always making sure I’m not lonely or scared while…”

“Sasha doesn’t?”

Ugh, Armin. Ever the receptive empath.

You hang your head lower, shoulders hunched. He offers another one of his gentle smiles.

“A student has been found with her throat split open, on campus. I think you get a pass for being nervous about it, even if you have a boyfriend”

“Thank you, ‘Min” the smile you offer in exchange is probably not as sweet nor fully persuaded but you do truly appreciate his courtesy.

When you get back to your room at the end of a very long, tiring and unfortunately wet day (you 100% forgot to bring your just-in-case umbrella and thought running would be a safe, dry enough strategy to bolt from one class to the other), all you want is to kick off your muddy shoes, add some logs to the fireplace, take a piping hot shower and melt into the comfort of your bed. However, it’s not often you have the room all to yourself: Sasha is going to spend the night in Connie’s room, the only place in the entire school where she feels safe enough to get a good night sleep.

You decide to text Eren and ask him to come over. Although you never directly addressed your concerns or discomfort, he must’ve sensed the desire to keep to yourself for a few days and he’s been gracious enough to step back and grant some space. You don’t necessarily feel guilty about it but you’d lie if you said you didn’t miss him and his stupid, sometimes awfully inappropriate jokes. You’re in love with him after all, insufferably in love one could say (and Jean has before).

Eren is the one person you’d do everything for, the only man you could dedicate your entire life to. And it’s not just because he’s attractive, emotionally intelligent, a good friend and just generally a kind, good-hearted person. It’s because he loves you just as much, knows that you were made for each other, like a perfect match determined by a superior force, some higher power, a deity that held a flame to both your hearts and sealed your fate for all eternity. That’s how being in love with Eren feels.

That’s what you always think about when he fucks you into the mattress, as you moan as loud as he likes it, as you beg for him to go faster, harder, whenever he teases you with a painfully slow roll of the hips. He knows you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you and, god, what never fails to send you over the edge each time is the thought that he adores belonging to you more than he enjoys owning you. You have him, all of him, and by god you’ll make sure that never changes.

Tonight, the thought of Yuki infiltrates your brain once more, no matter how much you work to keep it at bay. What did she feel while being slashed open? Did she die from damage to the trachea or the carotid arteries? The latter seems to be more likely, the blood vessels the run up each side of the neck will bleed profusely if severed and she did bleed a lot, probably ended up chocking on her own blood, right as the blood flow to the brain was compromised. Still, you hope her heart didn’t stop too quickly.

Most people believe that cutting a human’s throat is the same as slahing open an animal’s. But you’re not supposed to place the knife at right angle only to press and draw it across the skin: the best way is actually to find the soft spot below the junction of the jaw and the neck, position the point of the knife right there and thrust it in, gently guiding the blade along the bundle of neck cords until you reach the same soft spot on the opposite side. The correct location is not hard to find: tracing a finger back from the lower jawbone to the place where the bone turns upwards and then lowering it slightly is just enough.

You wonder if forensic pathologists have been allowed to take a look at the body, if the autopsy reported that a right handed person has firmly restrained the victim from behind despite no weapon having been recovered from the crime scene.

What a loss, ever the tragedy, a young and pretty life being severed so early on. She was lovely, especially with that little cherry lipstick she’d always carry around, the one that complimented her fair skin perfectly. You didn’t want her to bid farewell to this world with an ugly face, not when red looked so good on her. Burgundy was just her color.

Eren is showering when his phone, left on your nightstand, lights up.

(Aiko, 10:07 pm) hey!

(Aiko, 10:07 pm) working on that paper today was really fun :) wanna meet up again tomorrow?

(Aiko, 10:08 pm) this time I promise coffee is on me

Good grief.

There’s never really an end to the ladies you have to deal with, is there?

[ficandkaboodle]

Vaginismus: Terzo x Fem!Reader

A/N: Stg if I ever see this purple fucking freak darken the doorway of my mind, I'm going for his kneecaps. He will never be able to slut about on the floor again, and then what will he do? Thanks, y'all, for being so patient as I almost daily had a meltdown over the structure of this. And HUGE thanks once again to @angellayercake for being my ever-patient beta with amazing input and ideas!! I hope I did our bastard boy some kind of service.

Word Count: 8.8K. Sorry, this bad boy is a hydra: For every sentence I deleted, more words would come in its place

CW: Reader has a vagina, hurtful comments from past relationships, reader's mental state is kinda fucked at a few points, hints at extremely uncomfortable interactions to "make the relationship work". Sooo...Vaginismus and its delightful conditions, I suppose. Oh, and a hint of Google Translate Italian. I'm sorry, I tried referencing @/foxybouquet's ever so helpful guide the best I could but alas, I am still a moron. MDNI

Papa III was a notorious flirt, even by the standards of the sexually liberated Church of Satan.

Everybody knew this, from the Clergy to Sister Imperator to the ghouls to his many, many lovers. And yet, when his sights finally fell upon you, everyone knew: Something in him had changed. At the very least, his methods sure had.

Secondo raised a brow when he first saw his brother lightly jogging up to you in the hallways, panting for you to wait up. Primo sported a knowing smirk when he watched the normally suave man sheepishly inquire about the meaning behind certain flower arrangements. Quite the departure from his usual bouquet of red and white roses, the older man couldn't help but note.

A startled Copia quickly became suspicious when the brother that tended to tease him the most came to his office one day, armed with top-shelf juice boxes and nutty chocolate bars – just the starting price for whatever info he was willing to give his dear old fratello about his new favorite Sorella.

The ghouls had a field day whenever they came upon the old man either sulking or even swooning over how a recent interaction had gone. One even swore they had scrounged through his wastepaper basket (don't ask, it’s not worth it) and found crumpled up drafts of sonnets. Sonnets!

It was the Siblings, however, who seemed to take the most notice of his antics. And, unfortunately, the most offense.

Certainly, plenty of the congregation had received a bouquet or two from their beloved Papa Terzo. Many had been wined and dined, and some were even whisked away for a night of passion and excitement in a glamorous metropolitan hub. Terzo had gotten around, and he would probably continue to get around until he either died mid-orgy or until his dick fell off. (And even if the latter did happen, it probably wouldn’t slow him down. Not until his fingers and tongue followed suit, anyway.)

It was cyclical: You would be an interest for a week or two before your time would be up, and you would part ways as he turned his attention to another, leaving you with memories of a whirlwind dalliance to reminisce about for years to come.

This was simply something that was understood and accepted without much of any animosity amongst Siblings. This was just how things were. Or at least up until now.

They must have noticed there was something about the way Terzo pursued you. For starters, nobody could ever recall a time when the man actually needed to really pursue anyone, let alone to the extent and care he currently displayed.

They could tell when a peer was actively trying to heighten the tension, turning their back to him but still glancing over their shoulder to shoot a heated stare. An invitation for him to keep it coming. Really putting the “play” in “playing hard to get”. But generally speaking, most of what Terzo needed to do was snap his fingers and whichever Sibling or ghoul he had his eye on would eagerly crawl into his lap and then into his bed.

Maybe they saw a shine in his eyes that wasn't there when they had him. Or maybe they thought he leaned just the slightest fraction of an inch closer to you than he ever did with anyone else. Or maybe they swore his voice sounded different when he spoke with you. Lighter, but not out of an upturn in pitch to sound friendlier. It was more like it carried less weight. Almost as though he felt less burdened by some unspoken thing. Some thing he never cared to share with them.

Granted, you didn't help matters by actually enjoying the odd conversation or two (or over a dozen) with Terzo. (And by "odd", this meant the animated discussions that borderlined two-person seminars on subjects like the Hays Code, or how viewing certain films through a gendered or queer lens could enhance the suggestion of the story.)

And anyone who spotted you alone on the quad sharing a snack would've been convinced you were on an impromptu picnic, rather than the fact Terzo had found you and offered you pickings from his secret snack pocket.

Sure, it was just a sandwich baggy of cheese doodles, but the point still stood: You had Terzo's full attention, his intrigue, his consideration, his snacks, and you hadn't done a damn thing to deserve them! Any interaction between the both of you, every awkward joke, every instance of eye contact, every exchange of a genuine honest to Satan smile, had the Siblings of the abbey biting and clawing at the walls in envy.

You did your best to appear unaffected by it, preferring to keep your head down and say as little as possible when around them. Nothing to suggest you felt superior to them (not that you did anyhow). Regardless, you were fairly certain that, if it were up to them, they would bring back human sacrifice for the sole purpose of getting you out of the picture.

Thank Satanas, then, that none were present to witness the latest event.

There Terzo stood, his normally focused and powerful gaze fighting hard to be maintained. It was abundantly clear that he wanted to look anywhere but at you. Still, he resolved to keep that nervous on his face. His gorgeous, paintless face.

It was startling to say the least. Actually, no, scratch that: To truly say the least would be to just stand there, gaping like a goldfish as you failed to find the right words – any words – that truly encapsulated even a fraction of what you felt. Which, for better or for worse, was exactly what you found yourself doing.

After all, almost nobody outside of his own family had seen Terzo without his papal paints. They may as well have been tattooed on him the moment he’d perfected the design all those years ago! Not even the paramours he’d collected since then had gotten a glimpse of his bare face, despite the many opportunities they’d had from the nights spent in his quarters. The mystery as to why this was left plenty of room for speculation and imagination, creating a juicy mystique that Siblings and ghouls loved to salivate and chew on.

Admittedly, you yourself occasionally wondered what his deal was, but you ultimately chose not to ponder on it. If Terzo liked how he looked in makeup more than he did without, then that was his business. Honestly, it never even really occurred to you to ask him about it even as the two of you grew closer.

But as you took in the visage before you, you felt you had a good theory going: If Terzo went about the Ministry like this, he’d never know a moment’s peace again!

"Is . . . Is it . . . okay?" he asked quietly. Okay? Okay!? Satan’s taint, if it weren’t for the very apparent tension, you might’ve thought the man was teasing you! The man looked like an old movie star, all debonair and dashing!

The fight to respond in a timely (and coherent) manner was difficult, but you managed to stammer out, “More than okay.” You gulped down some shakiness. “Y-you’re very . . .handsome.”

Internally, you cringed at how wobbly you’d come across but thankfully that seemed to be enough. The warmth in your cheeks intensified as the nerves in his smile carefully evaporated, along with a slight tension in his shoulders.

Unfortunately, the consciousness did not remain, and almost immediately you found yourself delegating focus to other things. Like the beauty mark that lay just beneath the right corner of his pleasantly pink lips. Lips that were saying, “— if you would be interested, of course.”

You blinked. Were you interested? Wait . . . Interested in what, exactly?!

“Y-yeah, sure. I’m down,” you chirped before you could stop yourself.

While you tried your damndest not to look mortified or embarrassed, Terzo looked delighted. Possibly even elated.

“Oh, eccellente!” he clapped his palms together before offering you a mix of a nod and bow. That sharp characteristic of his eyes returned once more, pinning your form as he purred, “I look forward to it.”

Oh, fuck. “Can’t wait!” you replied. Of course, now the concept of urgency settled in.

As you walked back to your room for the night, you knew three things to be certain: The first was that that face of Terzo’s would likely be making many appearances in your dreams tonight. The second thing, branching off this, him showing you his face was a sign you’d let things get far too far.

And the third thing? You had to put an end to your exchanges ASAP.

Sure, you’d peppered this into your thoughts many times before, but after this? This moment of extreme vulnerability on Terzo’s part? No more peppering: It was time to actually pile in everything you had and outright reject Terzo’s advances. No room for stuttering or bending or swaying or swooning and second-guessing!

You repeated this like a mantra over and over, praying that the resolution would still be there in the morning. And it was – but only after you took an icy shower. You’d been spot on when you anticipated that gorgeous, gorgeous face invading your dreams. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was the nature of what all went on:

Snowflakes catching on his lashes as you ice skated on a pond (the power of dreams erasing his waking world clumsiness); his lips smiling around a forkful of the pasta you’d just cooked together; his broad nose nuzzling lovingly into your hair during a quiet night in; those entrancing eyes focused on the movie playing before you as his arm settled warmly around you. It gave you further comfort as you pressed into his side, so perfectly slotted that it was as though you only ever belonged there, right next to him.

You regretted disregarding the alarm bells that blared at the start of this whole nonsense, and now look where that got you: You needed a cold cleanse just because you saw a man’s unpainted face! You were worse than a pent-up Victorian! Did you really want to prolong things until you’d start to "feel" those smirking lips pressed against the column of your neck, or “feel” those large hands skirt along your form, leaving a deliciously pleasant fire in their wake?

Certainly, that might’ve made for a good night’s sleep in theory. But in reality? It was a nightmare in the making!

It was bad enough just wanting to do all those dreamy things and more with the equally dreamy Papa. But that, of course, meant the "more" part would eventually come around. After all, your waking life already wasn't too terribly far off from the things that went on in the dream.

Your days weren't filled with skating on the pond or chatting over romantic dinners but at this rate, they very well could be a possibility. In an ideal world, the wait for these things to happen would be filled with anticipation. But the sad, shower-cold reality was that this wait was weighed down by dread and predictions of what was to come. After all, for all Terzo's patience and kindness, even he had limits. Sometime soon, his patience with your inexactness would run out and he would come to collect. Experience told you that was just how it was.

You may not have had a pursuer as passionate as Terzo, but you’d had enough instances that ran about the same: There was that high, that thrill in an almost honeymoon period-like chase. Then there came the actual vulnerability where you’d tell them of the conditions that came with a relationship – the conditions that came with you. And yeah, they’d start off insisting that nothing about that changed how they felt about you . . .  But then they’d realize your condition would outlast their gimmick.

You felt your face twist with displeasure as sentences of the past began slipping through the cracks and into the forefront of your mind.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Calm down already.”

“Just relax already.”

Then came the pain (both kinds); the giving up; and then you were right back where you started: Alone together, with a body that hated you that you hated right back. The only real difference would be how much your weariness increased, making you more and more reluctant to play along with the idea of any potential romance. Meanwhile, to them, it was a game: You were just playing hard to get, that was all. But you’d surely stop when they and they alone were able to conquer you, to cure you.

Did you really want to wait around and see Terzo become like that?

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

No. Absolutely not. You weren’t sure your heart could bear it, much less your body. Besides, if word got out that he’d shown you his face, then it’d be all over for you. You’d rather incur the wrath of rejecting what many would kill for than face what might happen if they learned how far you’d gotten by doing nothing at all. At least with the former, there was a chance the Siblings let you keep your bones intact.

You had a plan as you prepared yourself to step out and face the day: Keep calm and function as normal until the chance to say those simple words hit you: “Terzo, I am not interested in you in any way, shape, or form. While you are attractive, I am not attracted to you. Please leave me alone from now on.”

A devastating lie, perhaps, but a necessary one. One you would need to deliver by tonight.

But hey, the day was still quite young. There was plenty of time for you to find the courage, right?

. . . Well, you didn’t find it in the hallway when you heard that oh-so familiar, cheerful call of, "Buongiorno, Mia Sorellina !", prompting you to pick up speed and disappear down a different corridor. Nor was it there when you caught sight of a black flutter of robe. It could’ve been a wandering Cardinal’s cassock but you weren’t prepared to stick around and find out.

And even though you spent nearly the entirety of afternoon mass, head bowed, praying for the Dark One to simply grab the strength and shove it into you, you didn’t feel any more emboldened. Apparently, your body meant it when it didn’t allow for anything to enter it – intangible things included, it seemed.

You groaned inwardly from both disappointment and discomfort as you lifted yourself off the kneeler and back into the pew. There was also the added stressor of feeling sets of multiple eyes on you: From Siblings stewing in envy; from ghouls who wanted to take a gander at the Sister who had flirty Papa III wrapped around her finger; and, worst of all, from Terzo himself.

The one time you dared to look up at his seated form on the altar, you caught a hint of a small smile directed at you.

You tried to return it, at least enough to suggest to him you were fine and happy to see him despite your earlier actions, but the sorry attempt lost any pretense of pleasantness when your eyes got caught on something: Even in the sea of his dark robes, you could make out the dull shine of leather gloves poised in his lap. Helping them to stand out more, however, was how each fingertip was adorned with a golden nail.

Correction: A golden claw. The fine barbs would fit right in on the hand of a ghoul or perhaps some other dæmonic creature.

Normally you were fascinated by the accessories but in your increasingly unwell state, these gloves intimidated you. It was like you had been reduced to a fearful prey animal and all you saw was a threat.

A thought, sharp as those gilded talons, slashed beyond your imagination and into the walls of your most sensitive place. They pierced and drilled into the intimate area just long enough for you to know they were there – both in your mind and your body – shanking their way into a place nothing was meant to enter, let alone something so dangerous.

Although a primal need to defend yourself shot through your nervous system, you were too incapacitated to do much more than body-jolting inhale. Your only defense, you had long-since learned, was to freeze. Your brain buzzed in an unpleasant manner as you started to come down from the imaginary fingering.

“You’re overreacting,” scoffed the voice of a past partner. “It’s just a finger.” You hadn’t spoken to them in years, but the disregard in their voice remained fresh, further embittering you to the fact that that was what managed to creep into you rather than the bravery you so desperately needed.

You had to pray once more that Terzo hadn’t noticed anything. A change in your already shifty demeanor, the way your legs twitched inward but not out of lust (not when Primo’s sermon was focused more on wrath today), or how your body’s momentary lurch. Much like your prayer for strength, though, you suspected this plea went ignored. You didn’t need to look up and see Terzo’s smile falter to think that.

The moment Papa Primo dismissed the congregation, you made quick work of the camouflage offered by the uniforms of habits and lace.

When a quick glance back allowed you to catch sight of a confused-looking Papa Terzo, you forced yourself to swallow the pathetic truth: You were never going to find the courage to even say sorry, let alone that you no longer wanted to see him.

What you did find – or rather, what found you – was an overwhelming torrent of grief and frustration as you flung yourself into your room and back into the bed where your day had started with a massive hitch. You shoved your face into your flattening pillow and hoped there was just enough down still left in it to muffle up your screams. And tears. Belial, you told yourself you wouldn’t cry over this sort of thing anymore. Over anyone. You should’ve been used to this type of thing by now, so what was the use in wasting energy like this?

What was the point in dwelling on how nice it all was, how nice Terzo made you feel, or how you secretly looked forward to your conversations, no matter how bizarre or intellectual? You gained nothing but the label of immature whenever you indulged in the schoolgirlish feeling of letting Terzo accompany you in the halls. Indulgence might have been encouraged by the Church, but not when it hurt or disrupted the paths of others’ own pursuits.

There was absolutely no way what you had done wasn’t going to inevitably end in pain of some kind, be it physical on your part or mental and emotional on Terzo’s.

But then again, maybe . . . Maybe you didn’t have to do this after all? Maybe you could make peace with where things were headed. You wouldn’t be able to let him inside of you in the traditional sense, no, but surely that just meant that you would just have to . . . adjust things? Yeah . . . Yeah, maybe that could work . . .

Maybe I could earn his love in other ways? Prove that I’m not ungrateful and won’t waste his feelings? Intrusive visions of you “earning” that love projected onto the walls of your mind. Under more pleasant, more normal circumstances, some of the ideas would’ve been a delight for you in some way. Par for the course of a healthy relationship.

But the possibility that these might be the only ways to grant you worthiness, to allow you to deserve Terzo’s attention and love, to deserve Terzo . . . It felt tainted. It felt like an even worse lie to perform. It burned like a poison through your mind and heart before becoming incorporated with all the other pains rising to the surface.

The knock at your door was a welcome distraction, but only long enough for you to forget the possibility of it being Terzo on the other side.

You contemplated pretending that nobody was home before a muffled voice said, “I can smell you through the door, y’know.” Ah. A ghoul. Better in that it wasn’t Terzo, but worse in that you couldn’t avoid them. To your chagrin, the trek from your bed to the door wasn’t nearly long enough to look presentable or like you hadn’t been crying.

You could practically feel their eyes through the mask, studying your tear-stained ones as they smelled the salt that had settled on your cheeks. Nonetheless, they continued ever professionally with, “Papa III has sent me to come retrieve you.” From the way they barely contained their tail’s amused wagging, it was clear that they were getting a rise out of the insinuations of the invitation.

You may as well have been off to the gallows (or worse, Sister’s office) with how dour your disposition was. Being a part of the Emeritus line, Terzo’s chambers were further away from your humble digs in the Siblings’ quarters. Still, it felt as though there wasn’t nearly enough time from your door to his for you to concoct whatever it was you could say or do. Which, to be fair, wasn’t really much to begin with anyway. You were screwed, your fate sealed the moment the ghoul knocked on one of a pair of the large, wooden doors.

“Entrare,” the room’s occupant answered. Your heart beat icy pumps as you and your escort obliged.

You’d never been inside Terzo’s quarters before, not that you hadn’t been invited. Granted, the first few times had been in the very beginning, before he’d realized that his usual tricks weren’t going to work on an unusual suspect. He never brought it back up again, even as the two of you appeared to grow more comfortable with one another.

It was a shame, then, that you were too possessed with anxiety to properly take it all in: In another, more pleasant mental space, you would have adored the large, framed vintage posters that decorated the rich purple walls, or giggled at just how much purple and gold this guy actually used in one admittedly spacious but still single space.

You couldn’t properly see it, being in what appeared to be more of a lounging area (really, how big was the average Emeritus’s room compared to the lowly Siblings’ quarters?), but you could just make out what appeared to be a bedroom down a small coridor. From what little you could see, there was a bed made of rich, dark wood with a velvety canopy.

Dramatic, but fitting for someone like Terzo, you mused in a split second of clarity before the gravity of the situation returned with ten times the weight as before. After all, here you were, standing in the boudoir of the man whom you’d been avoiding all day. Avoiding because you’d failed to do your due diligence and warn him against pursuing you. And there was his damn bed right freaking there – !!!

That prey animal instinct from mass began to skitter back as you instinctively began to look for ways out of this. Maybe you could leap out that Satanic Tiffany glass window? You’d be killing two birds with one stone if you did: You could get out of a confrontation, and the action would surely unnerve Terzo enough for him to draw back, right?

However, the make-believe agility and will to do so quickly dissolved out of you the moment you heard the voice you’d been avoiding all day once more. “Grazie, Wisp,” he addressed the ghoul. From the sounds of it, he must’ve been in a room off to the side, away from view. Despite Terzo not being visible to them, the ghoul still offered a bow in respect before taking their leave (though not without their nosiness prompting them to sneak one last look into the room).

You winced in sync with the door clicking shut, the soft padding of footsteps on the plush carpeting thundered in your ears as Terzo made his appearance. Even though he made sure to keep some space between the both of you, you still felt increasingly like a trapped animal.

As much as you wanted to cast your eyes down and pretend to be intrigued by the fact that the flooring was black instead of some shade of purple, acting as though nothing was amiss was your best course of action. Even if you felt your breathing hitch both with uneasiness and infatuation over the fact that, yet again, the man’s face was bare of his usual paints. It did, however, carry a small look of concern. While you felt guilty, perhaps him being worried would be easier to work with than him being outright upset?

You tried to predict the sort of things a concerned Terzo might say and what responses would be appropriate when you noticed something else about him: His clothing. You didn’t expect Terzo to be lounging in his own living space in his robes but even then, he tended to favor going about in his suit. This was the first time you’d seen him in anything that could be considered casual and not relating to his position as a Papa. The first time you’d seen him in pants that were actually tailored, actually! It was questionable if a men’s blouse made from what might’ve been silk could qualify as “informal”, but your brain was currently unable to drum up that inquiry.

Instead, it was too busy focusing on how the top was being worn: With only the top two buttons undone, the edge of what was more likely than not an absolute thicket of black chest hairs was visible. (If you were a stronger person – a better, more functioning one – you would’ve absolutely braved that thicket like a safari explorer.)

You gulped, realizing that maintaining eye contact was going to be harder than usual. If you were quicker about keeping your wits, you might’ve tried to speak up first. Maybe with a “Hi, Papa. How ‘bout that afternoon mass, amirite?” But Terzo beat you to it.

“. . . How are you?” he inquired. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of accusation in his tone. “Are you doing alright today?”

I’m anxious to the point of sickness and contemplating vandalism with your window, you wanted to say.

“’M alright. Just tired, I guess,” you shrugged. Judging by the way Terzo’s lips pressed into a thin line, he probably didn’t believe you. However, if there was anything you’d learned in your time together, it was that Terzo wasn’t exactly the type to prod. It was easy to assume from the flamboyant persona that he was far nosier than he really was. But the unfortunate and lovely reality was that Terzo trusted you. Worse was that he trusted you enough to both see his true face, and to tell him how you felt when you were comfortable. Your stomach dropped when you remembered the fact you’d been crying before this. Were your eyes still reddened and puffy? Did he notice?

“Vedo,” he replied before slowly crossing his arms. "Well, if that is the case, then perhaps we must do a bit of a raincheck for the evening, yes?”

Your brows lightly twitched in a nonplussed fashion. It was then that you finally noticed the full scope of the room you were in. It was more like a den than an actual lounging area, complete with a TV on a DVD loading screen and a couch sat before it.

You forgot to blink as it hit you. This was what Terzo had been referring to during his face reveal yesterday: He was asking you to watch a movie with him! And you, in your lovesick stupor, had agreed wholeheartedly to it!

Logic (and a sense of cowardice self-preservation) would have dictated that you leap at the opportunity to leave. You needed time to regroup. Maybe make a sacrifice to Satanas in the hopes that that might win you some courage to do what needed to be done.

But before you could commit to it, you reminded yourself: You needed to act unbothered. You’d already aroused suspicion in Terzo as it was. If Terzo thought you really wanted to watch a movie with him, as you had outright stated, then you needed to watch a movie with him. All you had to do was sit down at a reasonable distance and appear completely invested. Too invested to possibly think about how you wanted to tangle your fingers into his chest hair. Or how you absolutely shouldn’t want to do that at all.

“N-no, I’m good!” you insisted a little too eagerly. “I can stay up, I’m not that tired.”

He quirked a brow but questioned no further. “If you insist. Come: I have a small setup.”

The setup being an oddly-shaped popcorn bucket (why . . . did it look kind of like a pope hat?) filled with cheese doodles and a bottle of red wine to be shared between two glasses. You took only the smallest handful of doodles to be courteous but turned down the wine under the claim that you were trying to cut back. The reality was you couldn’t risk letting alcohol lubricate you into either melting down or melting into his lap as you both settled in.

The Man Who Laughs, read the title card. A name just vague enough to sound familiar though you didn’t really know a thing about it. When Terzo briefly explained that its main character, Gwynplaine, had been the visual inspiration for The Joker from Batman, you expected some early horror flick. Perhaps being treated to an hour or two’s worth of a spiteful man seeking revenge and wreaking havoc on the innocent. Odd choice in what you could only describe as a movie date, but you were already in too deep and far too high-strung to comment.

But as the film progressed, you found yourself surprised. Not only because the plot was far from what you’d predicted, but also because you also hadn’t been expecting a sense of solidarity. Sure, you’d never been a stage performer whose disfigurement made him a laughingstock to the pauper and nobleman alike. But nonetheless, Gwynplaine’s plight resonated with you. Something about being an introverted, soft-hearted person who feared their worthiness of love was thwarted by something they had no control over.

When you’d settled on the couch that evening, your goal had been to merely pretend to take the movie in. But the tenderness exhibited by the film’s two main love interests made that all but impossible for you. You now existed in a strange and uncomfortable middle ground: Too invested to keep your wits, but too aware of how uncomfortable the relation was. If this were some vintage horror flick, there might’ve arguably been a chance to hide any visible anxieties as suspense-born fear.

But between the “smiling” man swooning into the beautiful Dea’s touch, to him hiding into himself when his insecurities got the better of him, you just kept being reminded of your own circumstances, and how Terzo had given you his full face when you couldn’t even give him the truth.

A wave of self-directed disgust began to boil in you, causing you to briefly tic. Otherwise, though, you remained stiff. It was a fair film, after all, and it was a shame that you were corrupting yet one more thing that was dear to Terzo by equating it with your own problems.

But inside you were the beginnings of a nor’easter of biblical proportions: Deluges depicted you forcing yourself through your fears in a pathetic effort to prove to him he could still love you; the voices of failed relationships past split through your mind like thunderclaps; even the howling winds sounded like your whimpers whenever you trapped yourself in the bathroom, determined but failing to conquer Q-tips and dilators and even your own pinky finger. The flood they all created sloshed and battered about your insides and squeezed at your lungs, brutalizing your mind.

Just relax already, they said.

You’re just being difficult! they had accused.

Quit holding out! they demanded.

The film became less and less visible to you as you tried to steady your breathing and cling to something inside. Please, Dark Lord, great Old One, you prayed once more. Did you want silence? Freedom? For the moment to end, or for everything to pause? You couldn’t tell with all this noise. Please –

Forget it.

Despite being born from the storm, it hung over it, breaking through everything and silencing all. Even your prayer felt muted compared to how deafening the command sounded in your head. The voice did not belong to the Dark One, however. It didn’t even belong to the other Big Guy. You knew this voice, actually. It had been years since you’d last seen or heard from its owner, but you still heard it nearly every day since. And they always said the same thing every time:

No one is going to put up with this if you can't fix it!

You fought to contain any reaction from reaching the surface, but you failed: You shuddered. Violently so. You had to quickly cover it up with an overcorrection of tensing, but you thought you’d managed.

You didn’t even have time to make up an excuse when you caught Terzo moving from the corner of your eye. He was getting closer – no: His arm was getting closer. Angling to wrap around you.

There shouldn’t have been anything intimidating about the idea of Terzo, coming at you with 30% of his hairy chest out, possibly aiming to get some over-the-shoulder action. Unfortunately for you, at this point, you were beyond intimidated. This was made clear with your reaction of jerking away, emitting a gaspy, yelpy whimper you never knew you could even make.

And for a moment, everything but the film froze.

It was an odd juxtaposition, the swelling orchestral music playing as you both just stared at one another without a single hint of romance. You truly were like Gwynplaine now, hands covering your mouth as your eyes stared wide. Terzo’s own eyes being wide was rather commonplace, but the way he stared at you now made you feel uneasy. It was almost as though those big eyes of his were suddenly seeing everything in high definition, able to see now see every crack in the structure that was you.

The soundtrack could’ve played on for an eternity before his low voice quietly spoke above it.

“Mia cara. . .? Are you okay?” He sounded even more uncertain than he did yesterday when he asked you about his face. When you failed to respond, he tried much softer: “(Y/N).”

Your breath hitched, icy and cold in your burning throat. You could count the times he’d used your actual name on one hand. Nearly all of them had been during the very beginning of your interactions. Back when he was trying to prove the extent of his interest. Otherwise, it was always a term of endearment: “Mia sorellina” or “Tesoro mio” or “Piccina mia” and so on.

Always “mio/a”. Always his, even when you had no right to be. But now, as he stared at you, having to resort to using your actual name, he must’ve been starting to realize that . . .

Even though it had done you no favors this entire evening, you let panic guide you to spring into action. You stammered and struggled for words as you tried to make yourself untense.

“I-I’m – I’m sorry, I was just so enthralled –” Did that word even fit here? “I was really into the movie, the sudden movement startled me and –” But it wasn’t so sudden, was it? “I’m really sorry, I just –”

But you just what? You did not know, and it was extremely apparent the more you talked.

“I thought you were cold,” Terzo gently reasoned once your words tapered off. At this, the arm you’d feared was coming to corner you shook gently. In his hand was the edge of a throw blanket you’d been leaning against. “I was going to offer you some cover. I thought you’d been stiff this entire while, and then you shuddered, so I . . .”

His movements were notably slower now. Felt the need to be more careful, even if all he was doing was reaching for the remote to finally pause the ongoing show.

His eyes were less wide as well, but what they left in their wake was a firm yet troubled stare. It wasn’t meant to make you feel so afraid, but the feeling was there regardless.

“(Y/N),” he stated carefully. “If you are not comfortable, then I need you to tell me. I am a big boy, I can understand boundaries. If I’ve been moving too fast or made you uncomfortable in any way, I –”

“The problem isn’t you, it’s me,” you interrupted. God. Satan. Whomever had stuck around to witness this travesty. Being the truth didn’t make it seem any less lame. And judging by how Terzo’s demeanor shifted into being unimpressed, he clearly thought so as well.

“To be brutally frank, Sorella, I was hoping for a bit more . . . honesty.” The delivery of that last word faltered somewhat, but it was more than enough to provide a healthy punch to your gut. Actually hearing Terzo express disappointment towards you was far more devastating than anything your mind could have concocted. He’d already implied on multiple occasions how he’d often found himself on the shorter end of a seemingly mutual trust. Now you were just another person who’d failed to uphold their end.

While true, something in you felt the need to still fight back.

“No, you don’t get it,” you hoarsely insisted against the tightening of your throat. Your fingers immediately set to biting into your arms as they crossed.

“Then help me to!” he finally demanded. “You’ve been acting strange ever since yesterday, so what? Is it me after all? My face? What?!” The frenzy, while warranted, made everything inside you curl inward. Everything suddenly felt too big, too loud for the decreasing space inside you. Your lungs couldn’t expand enough, and you could practically feel the hurricane inside you banging at your eyes to be let out. Your teeth sank into your lips just as your nails sank even more into your arms. Anything to bite back and fight back what was quickly becoming inevitable.

He must have realized what he’d done, or perhaps he just used his eyes to see you practically shrinking. His expression uncrumpled into something more tender and apologetic, but creases of quiet frustration remained.

“Cara. (Y/N),” he corrected, his more patient voice from before returning. “I apologize for my outburst. Really. I do. But . . . Please: What is going on?”

If you opened your mouth, you were fucked.

“I cannot fix things if you don’t tell me what needs to be fixed.”

Soft like dynamite. The dam splintered, it cracked, and then it collapsed entirely. Your body was never one to take things in or hold them, after all.

“You can’t fix me . . .” It was quiet and light and it weighed down on your insides like no other.

Terzo’s brows gathered. “. . . Perdono?”

“I said you can’t fix me, okay?!” you repeated, your sentence made jagged and uneven by its sobbing delivery. The sudden explosion left the normally calm Papa taken aback. His lips parted, surely about to question what you could possibly mean, but the flood was unrelenting as it poured from your eyes and lips.

“I’m sorry! I lied! I lied, I lied, I lied, okay!? My body doesn’t work, okay, it’s fucking broken, and I knew it all along but I couldn’t tell you because I’m a f-fucking coward a-and I’m s-s-elfish – And – !” But this point, though, your throat far too tight and painful to even try continuing. Besides, you’d said all of what mattered, right? That you’d lied to him by omission, that you were broken, and that you were a goddamn selfish coward for pretending otherwise.

The truth hurt but you deserved this pain, having only yourself to blame that you were experiencing this on this man’s couch instead of in the privacy of your room. Everything in you screamed to get up and run back there, in fact, but you lacked the will to do anything other than stay put in a near-blinding fit of crying, probably fucking up the sofa with all the tears you were leaking onto it. You might’ve stayed that way even longer if it weren’t for a sudden nudging at your knee.

Apparently at some point during your pity party, Terzo had taken the opportunity to get up and . . . retrieve a box of tissues? Not leave? Or call for a ghoul to come and get you? Actually, that made a bit of sense: He was too much of a gentleman to kick somebody out while they were crying, no matter how awkward the circumstances.

As much as the punishing part of you wanted to reject it, the suffocation of your snotty nose was intolerable. You accepted the tissue box and dug in until your face stung with how much you had to wipe at it.

Terzo meanwhile resumed his seat, making sure to allow you space as you let out whatever nonverbal emotion you needed to let out. He didn’t force you to talk – not that you could, remaining a coughing, hiccupping mess even as the emotional tempest began to recede.

In fact, he himself didn’t say a word until you’d managed to work yourself down to pathetic, wet sniffles and tremors.

“. . . You know you’re not broken, right?” he asked. You almost didn’t hear it about you

You sniffled, perplexed. Terzo watched patiently as he continued, “Look: I don’t know exactly what’s going on. But what I do know is that you make me laugh. I like talking to you. I like talking with you. I just. Like you. So clearly, something about you must work, si?”

You shook your head. No. No, that’s what they all said. Maybe not like that, but they all said one of two things:

Either they claimed this didn’t bother them and that they could work with your condition, only to later realize they couldn’t keep up the lie; or they would ask to go your separate ways. He hadn’t done the latter yet, but after everything you’d put him through, he at least deserved specification to make that decision.

“No, I mean,” you took in a deep, shaky inhale. Mostly to calm the discomfort. “I mean. My body – It literally doesn’t – I have a condition, Terzo.” You paused just enough to let the words sink in – for the both of you. It never got easier to say no matter how many times you said it. “I can’t have sex. Not in a normal way, anyway. So, like. No penetrating or whatever. Not even, like, a tongue. Shit hurts so I don’t – I can’t bother with it. And like.” You twisted your fingers. “That feels kind of antithetical to the whole ‘living deliciously’ vibe or whatever you’re supposed to be promoting. So . . .”

So there. That was it. In a sick sort of way, you did feel somewhat of a weight lifted. The heavy, gross feeling of rejection still sat within you, but you had a familiarity with it. In time, it, too, would fizzle back into the recesses of your mind. You could . . . live with it there . . .

“. . . So what?” Terzo practically huffed, barely fighting back a smirk, one you couldn’t tell if it was from his own words, or in response to the stunned expression you now wore. “First off – and forgive me for missing any point – but you do realize that the whole of that whole ‘living deliciously’ shit comes from making choices, right? If sex is what you’re talking about, I don’t necessarily need sex. Is nice, yes, but. It’s not my whole fucking life, you know.”

. . . Well, no, but . . . To be fair, that rockstar persona certainly made that easy to not consider. Before you could argue this, he continued.

“Second off,” Terzo held up two fingers. “You do realize sex is more than just insert-dick-in-pussy, yes? Your Papa is . . . Well, he knows he is no blushing virgin, we shall say. No offense.” (At this, your expression blanked. Bemusement was superior to distress, though, you supposed.) “But do you really think that I think there is only one way to make sex count? Cara, per favore: Sex is sex! So long as everyone is having fun – and consenting! – then what is there to worry about?”

“E in terzo luogo,” he added a third finger before giving all three a wiggle, “do you really think that I would do all this if all I wanted was a quick fuck? I mean, think about it, piccina. Give me more credit.”

Well, when he put it like that . . . Your cheeks and ears burned less from humiliation, but from a much softer breed of embarrassment.

“Well . . . no . . .” you admitted. “B-but going back to the choice thing – I thought the idea was to make choices that don’t hurt anybody.”

He nodded with agreement. “Questo è vero. But here we are. And no one got hurt, si?”

You bit your lip, “But . . . I lied to you. I wasted your time, and – ” At this, Terzo’s hand rose, signaling for you to shut your yap.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, dolcezza,” he spoke, his features tame but stern. “You did not waste my time. Okay? I gave you my time. And I wouldn’t ask for a moment of it back. And do you know why?” He didn’t even allow you enough time to make a snarky response: “Because I chose to spend it with you. Even if I’d known, I’d choose you. And why would I not? Sei una bellisima compagnia, and I already love what we do together, even if it’s not fucking. Now, have I thought about us fucking? Yes! Often!” (You felt your blush deepening at his rather blunt confession.)

“But I have also thought about things we have talked about; things I would like for us to talk about; things I would like for us to do – besides each other, I mean. But it here’s a fourth thing.”

No fourth finger this time. Just him offering you his hand. You felt every particle in your abdomen squish and flip over the simple gesture, but curiosity made you pushed through to accept it. Even as his other hand came over on top of yours, any trapped feeling you might’ve had mere moments before never came forward. If anything, you felt . . . here? And for as buzzy as “here” felt, you didn’t want to run from it.

Terzo gave your hand a grounding squeeze as his eyes remained locked with your own. “I’m never gonna do something that hurts you. Alright?” he swore. “And if I do? Then I need you, I beg of you to tell me. Because if you don’t want to do anything, then we don’t do anything. We do nothing but enjoy one another’s company. That is plenty enough for me, dolcezza, I can promise you this. Do you understand?”

You gulped. You didn’t even realize your eyes had widened until you found yourself needing to blink back a fresh, much smaller batch of warm tears. You could practically feel your mind scrambling, trying to reference past experiences that could help you work off of this. Maybe proof he was lying, an argument you could present – something to make this all make sense!

But it found nothing of the sort. No one, in all those times, had ever offered a third thing, let alone one where you felt like you had an actual say in how things went.

Should . . . Should you nod? Could you be trusted to make the right decision here? You nodded. It was uneasy and uncertain, but the smile it gave Terzo seemed to be the proper answer.

“Good girl,” he affirmed. Oh. Yep. That was the right answer, you decided with a jittery exhale.

“Now!” Terzo exclaimed before giving the back of your hand a gentle pat and releasing it. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to finish our movie. Call me a firm nerd but I’ve waited all night to hear your thoughts on this, no joking.”

The change in atmosphere was dizzying as Terzo readjusted himself into a more comfortable position, as though you hadn’t just bared your soul and literal intimacies to him and had him respond in the most genuine and affirming way possible. Not as though it were nothing, but more like it was just not nearly as distressing as what you’d prepared yourself to face. With the storm settling and the fog of anxiety clearing, it became increasingly apparent just how discolored your thoughts had become by your past experiences. Of course Terzo wouldn’t be so rigid about sex: It went against everything he stood for, everything he was!

Of course, complete acceptance on your end wouldn’t be immediate. But you could work with this. Though, there was admittedly one last concern you had before movie night resumed.

“B-but.” You stopped short as Terzo turned his attention back to you. You had to remind yourself that the nerves you felt now were nothing compared to before. You could do this. “But . . . What if I . . . do want to do something?”

A bushy brow at the insinuation.

“N-not now! Not immediately,” you clarified. Suddenly the fringe of the throw blanket required your attention as you began fidgeting with it. “I just . . . You know.” You gave an awkward shrug and glanced up at him, a look of pleading twinkling in your eyes as you hoped he understood what you meant. Not any time soon, perhaps, but . . . Some day? You watched as the right corner of his mouth, the one where that darling beauty mark lay, rose up into a smile.

“Then, cuore mio, we talk about it,” he answered simply. “And, if you still want to ‘do something’ after?” He leaned in, the warmth of his smile heating into a devilish smirk.

“We do it. Whatever that may look like for us.”

You nearly blacked out when the bastard had the audacity to wink at you.

He then clicked play, shifting back into place as Gwynplaine and Dea came back to life. By the time you’d managed to regain your composure and refocus on the movie, Dea was cradling Gwynplaine’s tearful face in her hands. Assuming you hadn’t missed anything, this was the first time the poor soul had actually ever let her touch his face in all its deformed glory. And judging by her jubilant reaction, Dea couldn’t have been happier.

Good for him, you quietly delighted. It was absolutely what he deserved after all that time spent torturing himself over nothing. As you resituated yourself back into the cushions, you briefly noted how the voices from before, while still there, were much quieter. They lacked the power provided by the storm, and any time one of them seemed to try and get louder, you’d hear Terzo’s voice smother it out.

I’d choose you, he affirmed.

Good girl, he praised.

You know you’re not broken, right? he reminded.

It gave you goosebumps, though not the kind that the throw blanket could pat out. But you had a theory.

It seemed that the Old One had finally chosen now to put some courage in you. Better late than never, you supposed as you began to inch closer and closer along the couch until you could feel the heat radiating off Terzo’s body. The proximity in itself was thrilling enough, but the boldness didn’t stop there.

You tested the waters, leaning a little further into him, only for his arm to calmly come around you. Whatever space that remained was quickly closed as you felt yourself being tugged and cushioned into his side. You had only a nanosecond to catch the barely-contained smile on his face before you practically melted into place. Terzo’s touch, his scent, his warmth, his everything flooded into you, filling you with a simultaneous calmness and a vigor you hadn’t felt in years.

Your dream from before had been right after all: You belonged here, right next to your Papa.

[monnn]

Am I the greatest bastard that you know?

staring: idol! jeonghan x non-idol!, gn! s/o

wc: 1.3k-ish

genre: ANGST. big angry feelings of reader, kinda fluff towards the end?

a/n: hi, ur fav angst lover is back! things have not been great lately and this fic might just be a vent of mine. big feelings and anger is very valid but so is taking a break. hope you realise that and take a break from life to just exist! to whoever's reading this, i love u, let things take time, take time for yourself, stay hydrated and BE ANGRY!!!

divider by @saradika-graphics !!!

song rec for this fic is The Greatest Bastard by Damien Rice!

knowing how stressful going on a hiatus can be, you successfully lure jeonghan into a staycation, away from the city. though han had to be present for rehab, you had checked with the doctor and he was okay with han being away for a weekend. doing nothing was the plan since jeonghan was actively burning out from working hard to the extent that he's injured, so he was looking forward to spend time with his loved one for a while. what neither of you knew was the fight that would gonna pop up at reaching the room. hannie had drove all the way to the hotel since you didn't have a license and all you had done after reaching there was ask what he wanted to eat since y'all had skipped the rest stops.

~ 30 mins before

"hey love, what do you feel like eating? i could order it for us" you ask a very eepy han.

"just anything, i'm okay with anything" he replies and you can sense the exhaustion in his voice. to make sure you don't get him more grumpy, you ask again to confirm if he's sure about his decision.

"jesus y/n! can you cut me some slack? just stop fucking bothering me and order whatever the fuck you want!" he yells, shaking you to the core.

here's the thing - there necessarily hasn't been any major disagreements or "fights" in your relationship, so the intensity of his feelings get to you. but he should've known better than to snap because your rage knows no bounds and hannie does know about this.

"well, fuck you with that behaviour of yours, i'm not gonna be ordering any food!"

"good! because i don't fucking need it anymore either!" he screams, walking away from the room. you had put great effort in picking a room which is right by a stream, surrounded by mountains and a temple on one of the mountains.

trying not to mind the rage and disappointment with han, you chug a glass of water before doing anything. but you weren't gonna let han off the hook because he was having a hard time. the value you hold for yourself is much more important and you've tried so hard to just have that value in your life for so long, hence you are not going to let the love of your life doubt on it. finishing another glass of water, you leave the room in search of hannie with some snacks and a drink.

you are yet find han with the passing time. he wasn't by the stream, hadn't left the premises according to the owner and definitely hadn't hiked up a mountain(cause bro was literally eepy). but the one place you hadn't scraped was the temple, so you hydrate and go on to check if he's there.

in fact, he is there. his silhouette seems regretful. melancholic even. hunched over and zoning out by overthinking. you stomp your way towards the temple, letting him know of your arrival as he fixes his posture and keeps his gaze down. leaving your shoes behind, you enter the temple and kneel infront of han to provide well-needed snacks and water. he whispers a small 'thank you' and you move aside to sit away from him. not that you wanted to, rather wanting to just talk without any physical contact. you see him chug the water and eat his snacks, making a part of you feel relieved. after finishing his nibbles, han thinks he's ready to talk cause he knows it's better to do this right now than to dwell and let it become bigger.

"y/n, i'm sorry. i am not gonna reason myself for my actions towards you but i do wanna let you know i'm really tired. probably beyond exhaustion. i love you but that was really wrong of me to behave that way when you were just trying to make me feel better." he begins.

"okay, i accept your apology. but i'm not sorry because i haven't done anything wrong. and i'm gonna have to get this off my chest cause if i don't say it now, it's just gonna grow and rot in me." you say, stretching out your hand for him to hold. hannie slips his palm in yours and there's a little squeeze from both of you before letting go.

"okay, i'm gonna listen what you have to say and i'm sure i'll have things to say after, but i'm gonna listen to you first." he says, reassuring you.

"thank you. i hope you know that i was just trying to be of help and not a bother. you snapping at me was unnecessary, which you know by now and it scared me han. for a moment, you were an angry stranger to me and it made me so angry too. why? because i don't deserve to be treated like this han, you know how hard life has been and still is for me." you pause, taking a deep breath as you feel tears welling up your eyes. but one look at hannie and you know he's making space for your anger, willing for you to continue.

shit, you really do love him.

"i understand how mentally and physically exhausting things have been for the past week or so. i understand so much han, i really do. but that does not give you any leverage to be rude or angry at me. regardless of the terrible things i deal with in my life, i'm really trying to be positive towards our relationship and this unconsciously might've broken a part of me. maybe i'm being dramatic but my feelings are big and valid. i love you but we'll need to work on this at our own pace, yeah? what do you think?" you finish, catching a breath that you didn't realise was held.

jeonghan takes a deep breath, before he begins. taking one look at you, he fidgets with his phone and tries to talk cause he has to start somewhere.

"firstly, i am really sorry love. i wanna let you know that i regret my actions and shouldn't have behaved that way towards you. it's just been really hard for me to go into a break from being so packed with schedules. i don't think i've rested at all since i started working and it's just a lot. it's a lot because i now am realising the importance of rest and that solely is beyond overwhelming. but now that i'm here, i want to make the best of it and spend as much time as i can with the people i love. again, i can't think of anything other than apologising because you don't deserve that. i have no right to be treating you that way when you've put your complete trust and love in me. i'm so sorry again love, i want to work on this. i'm not sure how but i wanna work on us, with you. i love you." he finishes, letting out a loud sob. you hold yourself back from going and holding him cause he needs this more than anything else.

instead you move next to him, taking one of his hands in yours. hannie turns to look at you and lays his head on your shoulder, not caring about drenching your shirt. you gently caress his hand as he calms down and give him some water to hydrate. disconnecting from your hand, he drinks the water and wipes his face but intertwines your arm in both of his the moment he's done. there's a moment of stillness felt, as he leans onto your shoulder, nuzzling further into your neck. you haven't felt this feeling ever and just being present makes you realise that there is always space to be wrong and learn in love. not sure if it's the same with everyone else, but you know for sure it is with jeonghan.

[yyawnjun]

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧ CRUSHES ?! ⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧

ot13 seventeen x reader

a.n. helloo everyone, how are you? First time writing for svt and CARATS I am here for you!! Also I promise I will try to be more active on these days

Let me know your opinions and hcs !! comments, likes, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated. I hope y'all will like it ♡

summary: They as kind of apparently unreachable crushes - some of them are based on my experience but I am pretty sure you could relate too. Often that handsome guy, we only saw once and will probably never see again, that pretty barista, that airport guy....

1.9k wc ; fluff !! ; lil scenario for everyone ; kinda hope y'all can relate my delusional thoughts ; oh and tell me who is ur svt bias that I might start writing more for them <3

~ S.COUPS [에스.쿱스] ~ the airport crush

THE impossible crush for THE leader.

He would be that cool guy who sits in front of you while you wait for the plane, dressed entirely in black, probably wearing a mask and a hat as well. His gaze wanders as he looks around or scrolls on his phone with headphones on.

THE MOMENT when your eyes lock, and only you can see his eyes smiling. No matter if you keep that one eye contact, I'm sure that will happen again.

He might even make an unconscious attempt to get your attention by putting away his mask or moving his hair after putting away his hat to show how attractive he is… Perhaps it's the same for both of you when he nods his head or waves goodbye with his hand as soon as you have to take the plain. Your joy after that eye contact will keep you two awake during the entire journey, wondering if you will meet him again.

~ DINO [디노] ~ the charming waiter

c'mon ik you get me. You are in your favorite cafè and your order is taken by that one charming waiter who is softly smiling and with stunning eyes.

Even though it's your first time meeting him he already caught your attention, even only for how he acts or how he nods and grins while writing down your order (yes, I am aware of how much delusional I am).

Black and white plain clothing, messy hair, and once more, A COMFORTING AND SWEET SMILE. The urge to keep eye contact with him while he is working and serving other tables is clear to everyone.

And I bet he's the kind of guy who would come to your table and make jokes once he felt comfortable around you. Rather than making you feel uncomfortable, he asks about your order how you are doing, or if you will return

..lockey hoping for a yes.

~ DK [도겸] ~ the beach boy

Let me explain. I can't picture him out with no other expressions but SMILING. His big smile, using literally all of the muscles on his face.

On a sunny summer day, DK is on the beach with his friends, and they are all seated in a circle, laughing and enjoying some food.

Then there comes the instant when your eyes lock when his mouth smile slowly disappears and his eyes light up.

A few seconds passed when the two of you first laid eyes on each other, yet it felt like hours. Then, I can picture DK's friends slowly turning around to look at you, as well as your friends, as they begin to move their hands in front of DK's face.

as if to save from the enchantment.

~ THE8 [디에잇] ~ the motorbike's guy

I know it's just a moment but I swear that it is harder than you imagine to forget.

Imagine a young man on a motorcycle who is stopped at a stop sign after slowing down, wearing a dark helmet that matches the color of his eyes and has a clear visor(?), that turns around to look at you. Only a few people were running in the rain, and there weren't many cars in the area.

So you are still watching him watching you as you are under your umbrella. Your eyes locked for less than a second. There were no smiles or any facial gestures.

Under his helmet, he had deep eyes and a charming and veiled smile.

Who knows if he will ever forget that one-eye-staring contact challenge with those eyes of yours?

~ VERNON [버논] ~ the boy in the rain

I can absolutely imagine him forgetting his umbrella every time. Or perhaps it should not have been raining that day, but it was, and you two ended up stuck under a random awning.

His very presence was enough to make you a little nervous—he made no eye contact nor conversation. It occasionally happens that you gaze at his wet jacket or hair and vice versa, you feel his eyes on you one or twice.

But it wasn't a scary presence; quite the contrary. The young man's eyes were partially closed as he moved his feet to the beat of either made-up music or perhaps the sound of raindrops. And with a simple "bye," you wish that curious guy farewell who was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost failed to notice that it had stopped raining.

~ WOOZI [우지] ~ the idol

Imagine him in a cafe or a library alone, a little while after his debut. Probably writing music or just relaxing on his own.

So you are as well there. Both of you are completely immersed in your work, not paying attention to what you have around you.

As time goes on, you start to become distracted or grow tired and start to look around. You smile as you turn your attention to the boy who is working hard.

Oh, it's time to go! After packing up your things, you see him doing the same. You both proceed to the exit when you unintentionally run into each other. He is the kind of guy that would instantly assist you in gathering your belongings and yourself as well. 

You both say thanks and then part ways before leaving.

Imagine learning who he is only later because he is now a famous idol.. who knows if he wrote something about you on the paper he was working on that day…

~ JEONGHAN [정한] ~ the hallway's boy

I am sure that everyone would have a crush on him if they saw him walking around the school. He is the prettiest boy I have ever seen fr !!

He's beautiful and he knows it…and loves playing with this.

Each time your eyes contact, he maintains the expression and smirks a little. After a few days, and much better if you were in the same classes, he would start saying hello to you all the time.

He would know your name too if you were in the same classes with him or even in the same project group. After that, he will be the one screaming out your name, expecting that you will turn around and look at him as you always do.

So now you won't be the only one who constantly glances at someone

~ MINGYU [민규] ~ your traveling companion

This one is really specific I think.

I thought about that one comforting person that you always see while coming back home or going to school/work every morning.

At first, there are no conversations or greetings. At first, you won't even notice, but eventually you both will. As you begin to feel a little more comfortable, even sit near to each other!

So you become friends when you realize that you've begun to worry when he's not there, or when he's late. Greeting one another and possibly having a brief conversation or trading phone numbers or Instagram!!

The best part is still when he introduces you to one of his friends and it's obvious that the friend knows exactly who you are (YES HE TOLD THEM ABOUT YOU).  

~ JOSHUA [조슈아] ~ the sporty guy

Someone becomes immediately more attractive if they are passionate about their sport. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

He's not just interested in sports; he excels in them as well. He is the athletic student in the class and he's a gentleman, so… Imagine, during class, going for a run together. I think he's competitive yes, but not the type who is obsessed with winning, so I think he would not mind if you two slowed down or stopped whenever you needed to.

He would be the one encouraging you as you tried your best to avoid passing out while jogging for PE, or he would be the one you are staring at while he is competing; the one who appears to look good under the sun and would definitely smile or wink at you if your eyes happened to meet.

~ SEUGKWAN [승관] ~ the saver

Let's talk about how embarrassing it is to ask for directions when you are completely lost…It happened to me a few days ago in my hometown…

I pictured you having to find a building for a class but it's raining and you have no idea where to go. Seugkwan could be that comforting companion who feels just as lost as you, in my opinion. And it's comforting exactly because you're not lost alone; he's with you.

So you two end up together while searching for where to go.

He would ask a worker there for directions while laughing at the bizarre circumstance and lightening the atmosphere. After finding this out, you would walk together and sit next to each other for the rest of the lesson(s)…

~ HOSHI [호시] ~ the concert's guy

the vibe of a concert. immaculate. And it's even better when you really like the singer or the group because you get to meet all those amazing people who have the same passions as you!

Imagine seeing this boy, alone, waiting in line, looking so gorgeous and dressed up for the concert. Literally, the image of the beauty, with an outfit - maybe a crop top with baggy jeans - matched his makeup. So charming that is impossible to stop looking at him

AND SAME FOR U- While your eyes continue to lock and you smile, you are dying inside from happiness. Hoshi might even approach you to compliment you on how lovely you are and ask you how you feel about the concert,

Oh and Imagine singing along with him to your favorite song without caring about anything else.

~ JUN [준] ~ the friend of a friend

Okay, hear me out. That one moment when a friend of a friend that you have met just like one or two times does something kind and looks so attractive while doing it.

He is at the party where you and your friends are attending. only good moments and loud music; but you realize you need a break, so you choose to spend some time in the garden.

Worrying that you were not feeling well he would go out too, bringing some water for you. He did not say much when he sat next to you and gave you a glass of water. Perhaps at first, there was awkward quiet, but soon you two started talking soothingly about nothing that serious but still comforting.

~ WONWOO [원우] ~ the arcade's boy

I immediately thought about him as the arcade crush. Imagine you and your friends at the arcade having to split up into teams or pairs, and you are missing your partner.

Or imagine being in an amusement park and finding yourself alone in a Ferris wheel, roller coaster, or horror house (perhaps precisely as you wanted!). Then, BOOM, he sits next to you. It could be because there were no more places left…right?

He would be that cool guy who would play with you - you probably would have to make the first move tho…

or you might just be mesmerized by how amazing he is as he plays alone. He might feel the pressure of your gaze, but he wouldn't really mind—or maybe he would even kind of like it;)

[emersonfreepress]

help i'm alive

So! Long time, no see. 2023 was a whole goddamn lot lol

I don't have a demo update to share yet, but that's because I had to scrap nearly everything I managed to write during a very, very, very bad stint of writer's block last year. I hadn't even realized it had been a block like that until I went over my work so far last month and realized it was bad -- like, trust me; a slog to read that didn't even sound like me. It's been extremely frustrating but I've finally broken free of that and it's been easy and actually fun to write again for the first time in actual years. I just hate giving updates that have no actual news in them. And I really had nothing to share other than: I deleted thousands of words and feel so much better now 😅

Anyway, little about my demo plans have changed: I'm still putting out the Chapter 3 demos in Choicescript/on Dashingdon and then will be going dark to move things over to Twine. Where I am in the process right now is... feeling like 35% done with the overhauled version of this chapter and 50% done for the next demo update.

As far as asks, I'm... not really sure what to do?? I believe I've read them all (I love you guys), but so much time has passed since getting most of them that I'm not sure if it's, like... still pertinent??? To go back and answer them?? I suppose some of them like character asks could be, but all the nice messages of support -- that feels weird since I've practically ghosted this blog since August! Idk. Y'all tell me what to do with 'em and I'll do it. Maybe I should make a poll.

Uh... that's really all there is to say regarding the game! I've added some personal stuff after the cut, but if you're done here: Thanks for reading and sticking around. It means the world, for real.

So what has occupied my time all this time? Doctor, therapy, money, and friends. And improv! But especially the first two. There was a lot of non-writing related stuff fucking up my ability to focus and write, so hopefully with my mind and body both feeling a lot better, I can get back to being present and active with the game. I didn't realize how physically unwell I was until last year and it's been like... life-long issues I've been treating. It turns out it's not normal to feel exhausted enough to sleep at any given time, at all times, for your whole life! wow!!

I also uninstalled Tumblr from my phone back in February, so you could say I'm sort of generally focused on offline life. (And what an interesting coincidence that my writer's block dissipated shortly after that...) I also just moved!! The last two weekends have been so expensive and stressful -_- But I can't even compare the old place to the new. We're basically paying the same price for idek how much more space. The cats are so happy; which means the house humans get to be happy.

My schedule is finally freed up from constant medical shit (there was a 3-month stretch this winter with multiple doctor appointments literally every fucking week 🙃🙃🙃). My mental health is doing a lot better -- literally incomparably better compared to where I was this time last year. There's live comedy now (which I dabble in, to be clear lol), but I've finally found myself able to like... balance it all. The physical and creative energy that goes into it all, anyway. The lovely thing about improv is that you kinda just show up and do your thing -- it doesn't cut into my writing time so much as it costs energy. Unless I end up in this comedy debate show thing next month, which I am very excited to give up writing time for

So like... Life is life-ing and I'm just vibing. Or something? I'll be around.

Thank you all again so much for your interest, support, patience, and readership <3

[fuzart]

Just digitalized a drawing I made a few days ago :]

Okay,okay. It's not undertale.but hey,FNAF used to be my hyper fixation so let me be.

Actually, originally it's supposed to be this

But then,I think back and like why would she even do a peace sign like that..it kinda felt weird to me.

I would also like to apologize for the lack of posts and well,I'm not really active here recently.school, health and ig laziness kinda pulling me down but I really seriously really appreciate the fact that even though i haven't been online here much,there are still people that reblog,ask(I have too many inbox,I will answer it guys. Just uh wait ..T-T) ,like my content. Honestly,Makes me smile. And surprisingly,Im still getting followers somehow.Again,I appreciate all of y'all :]. And special thanks too to some of my few early followers that is still supporting my work here lol. Well, uh meow

[scoobydoodean]

#okay wait do y'all think that she wasn't going to try and murder Dean?#Do you think he was going to get through to her?#convince her somehow to not try to stab him?#that she was telling the truth at all in that scene?#because she was totally going to try and kill Dean#like 100% that was going to happen#and if Sam hadn't shot her then Dean would have had to kill her and that would have been so much harder on Dean#like it was disturbing that Dean had a 3 day old monster child that wanted to kill him but who was then killed by her uncle Sam instead#and even more disturbing that they then never mention her again#but these are also the guys who left their half brother in Lucifer's cage and didn't lose any sleep over it so...#and I love Dean but killing Amy was an asshole move#and there's kinda a difference between killing an active imminent threat and killing someone in cold blood after the fact @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis

I didn't want to clutter someone else's post but this was partially directed at me? I've talked about the whole "Emma vs Amy" debate quite a few times, but I'll share a few thoughts.

Amy is a present, unrepentant, fully cognizant, adult, serial murderer. She is not actually sorry about what she did in any way. She believes that slaughtering humans like cattle to feed them to her son was the morally correct action even if it wasn't the ethical action because it kept her son alive. She is not correct.

Emma is a brainwashed child who's been psychologically conditioned for a few days. She has never killed anyone and only wants to kill Dean because some women who abused her told her to.

Hunters like Sam and Dean primarily deal in punitive justice, not preventative justice—and what I mean by that is that Sam and Dean try not to kill people (with powers or without powers) who have never killed anyone.

While I think you're right to point out that a preventative justice component is in play, that is not primarily how Dean makes the decision to go after Amy, and the reason we know that is because Amy's son swears to kill Dean and Dean does nothing about it because the boy has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Dean's application of his personal code is consistent here. He kills Amy, who is a murderer who killed four people, but he does not intend to kill Emma or Amy's son—both of whom wanted to kill him—because neither has actually killed anyone and both may choose not to.

You say that Emma was going to kill Dean 100%, but you don't actually know that because we never got to see that future. You assume Amy would never have killed again, but when you add up "murderer who regrets absolutely nothing" and "child vulnerable to catching illnesses" you get "Mom who absolutely would kill again as necessary and who would feel zero remorse doing so just like the last time".

I don't personally think SPN gives us any reason to suspect that three days of psychological conditioning from a cult is too much to overcome. We have seen other characters overcome much more serious levels of psychological conditioning intended to make them killers. For example, Cas and Alex. I'm not saying Emma wasn't trying to pull the wool over Sam and Dean's eyes in the scene where Sam shot her, but I am saying that doesn't actually mean in any way that she couldn't be convinced to actually choose a different path.

Under the same litmus test with which you suggest Emma's condemnation, we'd also condemn season 2 Sam for his potential "future" crimes. We are killing monsters before they actually become those monsters... because of the dark path someone else intends for them to go down. Amy—again—is an active present unrepentant serial killer.

I think sometimes people misremember the scene where Sam kills Emma—recalling the scene as a scene where Emma lunges at Dean with the knife and Sam steps in just in time to save his life, or where Dean is unarmed and Emma has him at knife point. But that is not what happened. Emma quite literally brought a knife to a gun fight. Dean had a gun pointed at her, and if she was thinking straight at all, she would have left to avoid being killed if given the chance—especially when Sam arrived. And had she not, Sam could have shot her at that point—but Sam didn't wait to see what she'd do. He wanted her dead, because even if she ran, he didn't think they were equipped to deal with surprise attacks from Dean's Amazon child. That is the decision Sam made after a brief moment to consider, and it makes sense to me given the headspace he was in at the time and his assessment of Dean's headspace as well, but it does not make his decision consistent with his previous or future behavior regarding people who have been psychologically conditioned to kill.

My own frustrations are more with fandom, for a thought process that really really does not make sense to me, where Emma deserves to die but Amy deserved to live. I do not agree with that premise. I do not understand why so much of fandom has the perspective that a child who hadn't shed a drop of blood and who was acting in response to a cult's torture, who brought a knife to a gun fight and had already been driven into a corner where she had no choice but to surrender or run—doesn't deserve a chance to choose something else before she's barely lived and before she's heard a loving word in her entire life, but an adult with full cognizance of their actions who went through with killing four people and doesn't regret it should go on with their life and is "just a good mom doing what she had to" and killing that person is the bad thing. I don't understand that. I don't think Dean killing Amy was wrong at all in the "hunters kill supernatural murderers" show. The only thing Dean did wrong was lie about it and not take enough care to keep her son from seeing it happen.

[15-lizards]

thinking really hard ab my clegane daughter ocs again... me nd @sshireens have created such a rich and fucked up life for them...

time to be cringe on main and force y'all to listen to me talk ab them <3 <3

Dagmar (elder daughter from the first wife) vibes tho I don't have a set in stone face claim for her yet these r her general vibes. Obviously she's not as pretty as these models she's kinda unfortunate she takes after her dad. Really deep set eyes and heavy brow bone, square jaw, wide nose, tall and stocky for her age. Kinda like Brienne if she didn't have good vibes.

Anywayssss she's so much like her uncle that Sandor sometimes wonders if he did some sort of asexual reproduction and had her. Really keeps up the tradition of Cleganes being rabid (but loyal) dogs. Super hostile and antisocial, absolutely CANNOT regulate her emotions, borderline personality disorder queen omg. Low tolerance for basically anyone and anything (except her sister) and has really huge emotional outbursts over seemingly small things. Except for when she's around Gregor cause she goes into safety mode and just shuts out all stimuli. Just super tense, constantly on-edge, and really disregulated emotions she has literally never known peace. Her cortisol levels are So High.

Why is she like this u may ask??? excellent question. Answer: nuclear threat to all women Gregor Clegane happens to be her dad. When she was like barely 2 her mother died "mysteriously" so she got to be alone in Clegane Keep with her rapist murder dad, his rapist murder buddies, and some horrified servants and a septa. Yippeeee. Obviously Gregor felt the need to establish dominance over every woman and girl, and this was only increased by her intense personality, so Dagmar is subject to all kinds of abuse as a child. She learns pretty quickly that u can't really fight back against him so she just shuts down anytime he's in her vicinity as to not pose a "threat" to him. It sorta works. Then lets out her emotions on everything else: serving boys, kennel hounds, herself, etc etc. Half of the time she's in a blind rage and the other half she's in a hopeless dissociative state :) Actively suicidal and she's not even fifteen. HOWEVER when she's like six the light of her life and reason to keep living is born...

And cue Iva (younger daughter from the second wife) and if she ever survives to adulthood (unlikely) it is Scripture to me that she looks like a young Carol Kane. Sunken cheeks, pallid skin, wide protruding bug eyes, long nose, dry and frizzy pale hair. Very very sickly because her mom gave birth a month early and then died bc of it. So all she has is her big sister :]

While Dagmar's response to most things is aggression and really reactionary over-emotional outbursts, Iva is the complete opposite. She likes to run and hide in corners every time she senses confrontation or even gets slightly uncomfortable. Very very avoidant and anxious. Gets to live in her own little mind palace most of the time bc Dagmar is there to protect her. However Dagmar protects her a little too hard and now she is overly dependent on her big sis. Pathetically helpless. Selectively mute a good bit of the time bc it all just gets to be overwhelming and she feels safer just not interacting with the outside world. Super passive like an actual human doormat (if she ever let anyone actually talk to her)

And she is the way she is for [see Gregor reasons above]. However since Dagmar was there when she was born, her big sis sees this weak little baby and feels protectiveness for the first time in her life. Iva is HER baby and Dagmar never lets her out of her sight. Not in a cute overprotective sibling way but in a really aggressive "don't do that you stupid idiot I know what's best for you don't ever leave me way" cause that's how she shows her love so Ivas like Ah this is what love must be like. Obviously Dagmar can't protect her from everything so Iva is abused in the same ways, but slightly less often because Gregor sees her as less interesting and less of a challenge because of her passiveness. So Iva's response is to make herself even smaller and ignore all her problems to live inside her own head lalalalalala

And when they're together oh these girls give a new meaning to Codependent. Dagmar sneaking into Iva's room after Gregor leaves it one night and getting so upset to the point of breaking things and grabbing Iva until she bruises her sister even more. But Iva is comforted by it because that rage means Dagmar cares ab her. Dagmar literally beating a stable boy into a vegetable state (or killing him, ur choice) for trying to grab Iva's skirts. Iva is in literal medical shock seeing a (near) dead body on the ground that got put there for HER while Dagmar is smiling with her bloody knuckles bc it felt good to hurt someone protect her sister (She actually feels horrifically guilty about it later but manages to ease the cognitive dissonance by telling herself that she was protecting Iva so it absolves her of everything bc Iva is perfect and fragile and can't be hurt). One time at a feast when the girls are in their pre/mid teens, Gregor makes an offhanded comment about marrying "the prettier one" off soon and Dagmar forgets her dad trauma for a hot second, bc her urge to keep Iva safe is that strong, and literally throws a serving plate at his head. Later when Dagmar is in her room, with three less teeth and five new giant bruises, Iva is cleaning her up and weeping and just wanting to curl up with Dagmar in bed and forget the rest of the world forever. Meanwhile Dagmar is planning out the murder-suicide she will enact if Iva does get married off. She doesn't tell her sister that just yet but Iva would be more than okay with it. Cause how can Dagmar live without her guiding light morality pet only good thing she has and how can Iva live without her only dog her only knight. YAYYYYYY

[sirenfromthelostcity]

College! Mizu x Dancer! Reader

I went to a zumba class with my mom (that pretty white lady kicked my ass in this class omg) and i was reminded how fighting and dancing practically go hand in hand bc they both require choreography so i got to thinking about College!Mizu and like what if you were her roommate and you begged her to help you practice for a dance test bc your partner was sick. So here is a mini headcannon College! Mizu x Dancer! Reader! If y'all are into it enough to want me to make a lil drabble of it lmk, hope you enjoy! 💗

EDIT: here is part 2!

Your partner for one of your dance classes is sick with the flu so you beg Mizu to help you out. Truthfully, you did have other options but you have a growing crush on your roommate and figured this would be the perfect opportunity to get to know her better and have some fun together.

Begging alone didn't work so you promise to buy her some of her favorite protein snacks and she finally caved in.

Mizu warned you that she's not much of a dancer. However, she partakes in the school's martial arts group and competes seriously so you tell her that her background in martial arts could actually translate pretty well into dancing. Which is actually true as both activities require knowledge and control of the body and flexibility.

The dance you were assigned is the salsa. To you its a pretty intimate dance so you were excited to start practicing. Mizu on the other hand was just worried she wouldn't be able to do the dance right and she's seen salsa before so she knows how close she'd have to be to you and she was kinda nervous.

At the first rehearsal you made sure to wear your favorite leggings that accentuate your ass and legs. It paid off as you caught Mizu's lingering gaze a few times. Could've been she was just watching you to emulate her part in the dance but it was also a high possibility she was genuinely admiring what you were displaying.

At first Mizu is a little stiff but with her consent you used your hands to guide her hips to move in rhythm with yours in the dance.

When it was time for a 5 minute break you decided to do some stretches and when Mizu went to get water that's when you caught her admiring your ass in the reflection of the mirror. You did a mental 'got em' in your head and quietly laughed causing Mizu to quickly divert her gaze.

First rehearsal went very well. You were showing Mizu her part of the choreography and although she could work on moving more fluidly she was able to pick up the dance steps rather quickly.

Mizu even tells you that she had fun and enjoyed the activity more than she anticipated.

You told her, truthfully, that she did a really good job and that you really appreciate her helping you out in this emergency and that you're really looking forward to the next rehearsal.

Hope y'all enjoyed! I'm also working on a lil Mizu x Healer! Reader story so hopefully i'll have that ready soon. Feedback is always appreciated!

[strawberryfairi]

TR Guys + Their Types | HCS

Ran, Baji, Rindou, Hanma 💖 pt 1

⚜️Content: Black Girl Edition🤎 What I could see the guys' types being

RAN

~ I feel like he loves a fashionable girl, specifically that like rich girl style (loves to wear heels, dresses, sun hats, etc). ~ Loves a confident, self-assured woman (I could see him loving a woman that gives off Jessica Rabbit vibes, both style and attitude).

~Definitely loves the hard to get type (not PLAYING hard to get but she just literally is hard to get).

~She'll love luxurious things (vacations, restaurants, etc) and will never say no when he offers her one of those types of experiences. ~She'd also be very kind, maybe even mellow personality wise. Like she's very poised, calm, and well-spoken for sure.

~He'd love a talented woman too! I feel like he'd be shook at a vocalist! That speakeasy, jazz standard vocalist type vibe. A smooth, sultry voice (I imagine her singing Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered by Ella Fitzgerald and Ran's just watching like omg...I'm sat🧎🏻).

~Likes a girl that really likes to nap, and do homey activities! Spending quality time together being inside the house is a must or him! For example: Going out to dinner together somewhere beautiful and expensive then come home and just chill and cuddle together with a movie on until y'all fall asleep!

~I could see him absolutely LOVING and OBSESSING over a big afro! Like imagine this look: A gorgeous yellow sundress, white heels, and that gorgeous afro she created out of a braid out, picked out to perfection and framing her face elegantly. Again...he's sat🧎🏻

BAJI

~I could kind of see two different types of girls for Baji so Imma split this one:

TYPE 1:

~ PATIENT...as a mf! Like, she is not out here getting pissed about every little thing. It takes her a lot of pushing before she'd ever get as mad as Baji does about certain things.

~ She's soft spoken (not necessarily like a meek voice but just calm) yet confident, and has no problem correcting or telling anyone off, she's just not going about it like Baji.

~Very compassionate and values family (this goes for type 2 as well). Baji cares DEEPLY for his mom so naturally I feel like he'd gravitate towards a family girl.

~Definitely loves animals for sure. Like just any animal she's cool with, and they're cool with her. (Them adventurous type girls that'll ride elephants and like...idk touch a shark lol. That ain't me chile)

~I could lowkey see that like chill sense of style for her too. Like not nothing fancy with Ran but more everyday/cute casual wear.

~I think Baji would like (in either type) a locs goddess type of girl. Like something about a girl with locs for my boy Keisuke....he's sat 🧎🏻.

TYPE 2:

~ ZERO PATIENCE....like none. If she's set off all hell is breakin' lose chile. It's every natural disaster happening at the same time if someone makes them BOTH mad (just run...).

~Values family for sure.

~Loud, animated personality! The type of girl where you hear her before you see her coming.

~Does not like animals like that, but is willing to let him show her and maybe warm her up to different kinds of animals.

~I think he'd like the streetwear kinda style. The kind where she can dress it up or down depending on the day or outing, like maybe she'll add in some heels to jazz up the fit, you feel me?

RINDOU

~Like Ran, I think he'd love a talented woman! Art, music, etc, he'd really like that kind of thing!

~I could see Rin liking a cutesy girl for him! Like pink, skirts, just the stereotypical girly things.

~I think he'd love natural hair so much! Like he'd love to just sit and learn how she does it. She'd be the type to do her hair herself.

~He'd like a girl he can share memes and music playlists with!

~Will love a girl that likes to go out, and be taken out to dinners, clubs, etc. Just texts/calls her outta nowhere like "Get dressed nice babe, I'm taking you out"

~Likes a girl with a warm, velvety, low voice. That deep tone that comes across naturally sensual for no reason.

~I think he'd also like the kind of girl that acts a bit bratty just so he can put her in her place (if you know what I'm sayin' sksksksk)

~Since he's all flexible and whatnot, on his elastigirl type beat, he'd definitely like a girl that would be open to learning about stretches and workouts and things! Would for sure like a lil workout buddy.

~He'd like a girl that's good at communicating and being perceptive of other people.

HANMA

~I feel like Shuji likes a girl that acts like she doesn't like his corny jokes, slight chaos, and flirting but really does

~He'll like a funny girl for sure! Not necessarily cracking jokes 24/7, but she has a sense of humor!

~I think he'd like a girl that' loves adventures too. Hanma likes spontaneity so he'd probably gravitate towards a girl that loves doing random things out of the blue!

~Likes an "angelic" kind of girl. Super sweet, kind of innocent, super kind, and just not violent and crazy like him. Definitely can see him with a girl that'll reign that craziness on in (Like, "We can have fun but we ain't bouta be on all dat...")

~I feel like he'd like though, a bad biddie type of girl too. Like she intimidates guys that see her because she looks so beautiful. Comes across scary gorgeous but she's really not like that at all if they get the chance to know her.

~When it comes to her hair, I could see her being a versatile baddie. She'll be natural, wear wigs, get braids/locs, you just never know! She gon' eat whatever style she feels like at any given time!

~I feel like this will also play into her style too. Like she's the kinda girl that will be giving classy baddy one time, casual one day and streetwear another but she absolutely slays each and every aesthetic like it's her main one!