#he improves my mood so much for real

[kenobion]

Andrew Garfield on the Graham Norton Show

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Free time has (sort of) arrived

(cat is katsrkole on instagram)

[seventh-district]

.

[celestiamour]

haiii >_< could i request a myunggi (player 333) x fem reader. reader meets him at the games and falls for her because of the way she takes care of junhee and her baby (player 222)! i hope this isn’t too vague 🙈 do whatever ur heart desires with this!

ft. lee myung-gi x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ falling for your kindness towards jun-hee & his faults┊0.5k words

contains: fluff! newly established relationship, past myung-gi/jun-hee but not anymore obviously, reader is very kind

➤ author's note: love girls supporting girls, but the reader is kinder than i am, i would have beat his ass (another short one, i’m so busy omfg i hope to have a proper fic coming soon)

it seemed a little strange to him at first when he realized how much attention he was paying to your interactions with his jun-hee, but truthfully, he was nervous about it all. you had only been dating for two weeks, and he had no idea how you would react to being told that his pregnant ex-fiancee was in these death games with the two of you. he’s surprised you didn’t tear his head off when it was revealed he had a little over a billion won in debt compared to the hundred thousand won he lied to you about, and you were only in this shit because you wanted to help him out too.

it’s only now that he’s noticing that your kindness seemed to have no bounds and that your sincerity was like that of an angel. when you first approached her, he half expected you to start a fight like most of his previous partners did when meeting each other: establishing their position as his girlfriend, telling the other to back up, and maybe even getting physical if they both were in a bad mood.

yet you did none of that, coming to her with all genuine smiles and concern for her well-being.

at first, she was a bit stand-offish for obvious reasons as she’s seen you plenty of times with the ex-youtuber, but once she saw your persistence to make friends with her, she eventually gave in and even smiled that myung-gi is a lucky man for having you in his life. after all, she couldn’t stay indifferent towards someone who went out of her way to help make makeshift accommodations for her pregnancy whether she needed extra food when eating for two, another pillow to sleep comfortably, or a buddy to go to the bathroom with. there was nothing you wouldn’t do for her and sometimes you even spent more time with her than your boyfriend. 

“aren’t you mad?”

“what do you mean?” 

“aren’t you mad at me for having a pregnant ex-fiancee? aren’t you jealous?”

“well, you didn’t know about it until we got here. besides, she said she doesn’t want you back anyway even if you are the father.”

“right, but… what about me keeping the severity of my debts a secret?”

“you didn’t want to worry me, i forgive you! listen, we’re all human and make mistakes, i’m not mad at you about anything. i just want to get out of here alive and use the money we earned surviving to pay everything you owe back then we can start being a real couple without all that on our shoulders.

he stared at you with his mouth slightly agape and shook his head lightly. there was nothing negative in your tone, nothing indicating that you didn’t care or that you just wanted to get the matter over with, you really were accepting the apologies made for his shitty past decisions out of the pure kindness of your heart. it made his own soar like a bird gliding along with the wind, feeling like he had the chance to improve and finally be the man you deserve. 

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[ultravjiolencee]

Can i request a fred weasley with maybe a reader from black family that doesn’t really like christmas? thank u so much!! (they’re not relatives and kinda in a relationship)

Weasley Warmth Delivery

a.n! thanks for requesting and sorry if this took me this long, but to be honest i still feel into christmas mood. i tried this new ‘format’ of exchanging letters! mention of my previous work

Dear y/n,

Well, look at that—a letter from Black. To what do I owe this honor? Boredom finally driving you mad in that haunted house of yours? Don’t worry, love, I’ve been expecting it.

Grimmauld Place isn’t exactly the Ministry of Fun, is it? And without me around to liven up the place, well, I’m amazed you lasted this long before reaching out.

First, let me set the scene for you here at the Burrow: total chaos, as usual. Mum’s been running around like a bludger on a sugar high, barking orders about decorating and cleaning things that were perfectly fine before she started. Ginny keeps nicking the fairy lights off the tree to “improve” her room (I think she’s trying to charm them to spell out something rude for Ron), and Percy’s been giving us all his patented look of disapproval. Honestly, I think he was born with that expression.

George and I, naturally, have been hard at work testing a few of our newest products. Let’s just say the garden gnomes had a very eventful morning and leave it at that.

But, enough about the Burrow, it’s too normal compared to what I’m imagining for you. I bet Grimmauld Place is a real barrel of laughs this time of year. Bet you’ve got Kreacher croaking out festive insults like, “Filthy blood traitor scum don’t deserve gingerbread.” Or maybe you’ve charmed those gloomy curtains shut tight so you don’t have to look at your delightful family tree. Is my name still scorched off that thing, by the way? If not, I’ll send George over to fix that. It’s our legacy, after all.

I wish I could say I don’t worry about you being there all by yourself, but you know me—I don’t do lying very well. (Or at all, according to mum. But then again, she doesn’t always appreciate my particular brand of honesty.) You’ve got that whole independent, “I don’t need anyone’s help” thing going on, and I get it. I do. But I can’t help wishing you’d pop over to the Burrow for Christmas. Mum would adore you, I promise. Well, she’d probably scold you for being “too thin” first, but that’s just part of the package deal. Once she’s fed you a month’s worth of food in two days, she’ll be absolutely besotted.

And before you go claiming I’m trying to recruit you to our family, let me clarify: yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Because family doesn’t have to be the lot you were born with.

You’ve got us now, whether you like it or not.

Now, enough of this sappy nonsense. You’ll start thinking I’m losing my edge. Let’s talk about important things—like me. Did I mention George and I managed to sneak a prototype of our newest invention past Mum? It’s called the “Crackling Cauldron Cake,” and it’s exactly as dangerous as it sounds. You bite into it, and it pops like a small Firework Charm in your mouth. George claims it’s “too risky for mass production,” but I say he’s lost his Gryffindor nerve. (He was almost a Hufflepuff, you know. Don’t tell him I told you that.)

Oh, and speaking of risky ventures—have you heard from the “adorable” bunch at Hogwarts? Lee says everyone’s still whispering about us switching ties that morning. Apparently, there’s now a theory that we were secretly meeting in the Forbidden Forest for mysterious reasons. Honestly, they’re creative. I’ll give them that. Maybe we should encourage the rumors. Keep them on their toes, you know?

Alright, I should wrap this up before the owl starts biting me again. (Did you train this thing to attack, or is that just a natural Black family trait?) But seriously, don’t be a stranger. Owl me again, even if it’s just to complain about how miserable it is without me around. I’ll write back—promise. And if you’re feeling really brave, you’re always welcome here. I’ll even let you beat me at Wizard’s Chess again, just to keep things festive.

Take care of yourself, alright? And if Grimmauld Place starts feeling too cold, just think of this letter as a little Weasley warmth delivered right to your doorstep.

Yours (because I’ve decided you’re mine to pester now),

Fred

P.S. If you don’t write back soon, I’m sending George over to prank your front door. You’ve been warned ;)

[suempu]

hiiii could you write some nsfw headcanons for chilchuck with a reader who’s insecure about their body?

gn + implied human! reader + kinda dominant chilly chuckles

<3

oh my, that man is not good with emotions. one of his flaws is that he’s kind of bad at dealing with them since they leave him in a vulnerable state. it was no secret that he’s emotionally constipated, his past wife left him because of that.

but ever since you came along, chilchuck has been slowly improving, not wanting a repeat of what happened. he’s acknowledged that by loving someone, he needs to be able to be open with his feelings and become mindful of yours.

once you work up the courage to tell him, he visibly stiffens up. chilchuck is silent for a few seconds, he really wasn’t expecting this while he was kissing you up.

he spends a few moments awkwardly fiddling with the buttons of his half done shirt as he thinks of the right words to say.

“…. i… don’t really care about what you look like.”

okay. he could’ve worded that better.

“i-i mean! i enjoy being with you… for who you are.”

chilchuck’s biting his lip, looking at you hesitantly as he reaches a hand out to you. he’s looking anxious before you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

he yelps as he’s tucked into your chest, letting out a sigh of relief that you don’t seem upset. you pull away and look down at him with a smile.

“you suck at this.”

“i know.” he sends you a grin.

placing one hand around you, he pushes you gently to sit on the bed. he stands in front of you and holds your face, nuzzling into your nose which brings a laugh out of you.

“i know i’m bad at… this kind of stuff but i meant what i said.” he looks at you seriously, big ears twitching as hair strands falls to his face, rough and messy after your heated lip-lock earlier.

“i’m nothing but an old, brooding man. i love the way you make me feel and i want… you to l-love how i make you feel…. regardless of what you look like.”

he can see how you’re biting back a snicker as he tries to get his act together. chilchuck can feel his face getting hotter as he hears your bubbling laughter. but he’s glad you’re less nervous as before.

“y-you think this is real funny, do ya?” he yells out.

he’s kinda grumpy after all that, feeling a bit embarrassed that you laughed at him. after a few kisses smothered on to his face, he slowly gets back into the mood, making sure to pay extra attention to your reactions.

if you ever cover yourself up, he will give you a peck while slowly taking your hands off and whispering reassuring phrases.

he will kiss down your body as he keeps his eyes on you, forcing you to watch him. when he finds out which part makes you insecure the most, chilchuck will leave open mouthed kisses and suck a hickey on it.

with his enhanced hearing and senses, your quiet whimpers and gasps gets him going as he touches and feels you thoroughly with his fingers.

since this is your first time being intimate together as a couple, he makes sure to treat you softly and gently. he’s attentive to the spots that make you moan out the most, notices how you grip the sheets harder when he licks and sucks on a certain area. all of them noted in his head so he can figure out what else you’ll like.

chilchuck groans breathily, he’s kind of ashamed to lose control of himself, thinking it’d only embarrass himself.

“am i not making you feel good..?”

“where did this come from?”

“you don’t… make as much noises as i do. i’m wondering if i’m not doing enough.”

once he hears your reason, he immediately rushes to assure you. though still a bit hesitant, he’ll try to let go more the next time you’ll get intimate.

can i just say he’s skilled at giving oral. his hands and fingers can take you to god and back once he finally finds out what specific things you like. he loves being all in there, loves your smell, your sounds, your fluids.

he doesn’t say it out loud though. which makes you wonder why he keeps asking if you could fuck his face whenever you two do it.

“is this some sort of kink of yours?”

“just say yes or no!”

after one round, he can get pretty spent. but if you’re still needy, he can muster some energy to make love to you slowly.

oh, and he lives for lazy morning sex. sometimes you’ll wake up to him kissing down your shoulder and arm, whispering small ‘wake up’s to your buzzing ears.

aftercare with him is… well, lazy too. he’ll drop to your side, breathless as he stares up at the ceiling. after a few moments he’ll sit up and look down at you on the bed, whispering sweet praises as he holds your face.

he’ll smoke for a bit, facing away from you. he doesn’t want you to cough from the smoke after all.

drags you to the bathroom after a few moments. he hates being sweaty and you’ll have to kill him before you force him to snuggle right after sex.

chilchuck just doesn’t like feeling gross, he’d want to be clean as soon as possible. he will fuss over you during bathing. divorced father of three but with the way he’s acting makes him look like a mother.

he will scrub you down to the bone but will be less aggressive if you tell him it makes you uncomfortable.

“put your clothes in the basket, dry your hair, make sure you brush your teeth properly.”

“i always do! follow your own advice, you alcoholic.”

“i will drown you in this tub.”

what a nice and loving man, am i right

after bath time, he’ll lay on his side with nothing on but some underwear. his arm is around your torso as you fall asleep while he watches you with a soft smile, fingers tracing soft shapes on to your skin.

8/10 for being emotionally constipated but an A+ for trying. (i’m kidding he’s great)

[tangerinelovez]

How do you think OT7 Dream would comfort you after a bad day?

Mark: When Mark comes home from a day of work and sees you on the couch sad and quiet, not at all like your normal self, his face quirks up in shock. Your eyes are on him as he awkwardly looks around the room, rubbing his arm, looking as if he’s unsure what to do. After a few beats of silence, he meets your eyes and sits down next to you.

“How was your day?” He asks, looking at you with soft brown eyes. He listens intently and offers emotional support for a few minutes before diving into some solutions and advice. You notice his sentences are a little disjointed or rambling, but he definitely got some good points across and brought up new perspectives you hadn't considered.

"No, yeah, like, she was totally... uh... over the line for asking you to stay late to finish that report... like, she totally put you in a weird spot, y'know, given the fact she asked if you'd do it in front of so many people, you know? you don't... you can't deal with that kinda thing." You nod, feeling your frustrations dissipate as he continues to be the picture perfect supportive boyfriend… albeit a bit rambly. His talents definitely lie in making sure you feel heard, and like all of your concerns are so valid. He's an amazing listener who reassuringly holds your hand and gently strokes your thumb with his own as you talk and he offers his best reassuring words. Even if he somehow loses his train of thought along the way, he always brings it back home. He's the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for and you love the way he takes your mind off things... when he offers to get you your favorite takeout, you squeak out a "No, it's ok, I'm fine. We have leftovers."

He calls you from the restaurant to ask what exactly it is you like from their menu because he just wants to be 100% sure he gets your order right (and that they don't forget your sauces...) Would totally be the type to bring home way too much food, sheepishly saying, "Hey, you deserve it.... it's been a long day for you... not that you have to have a bad day to like, get good food, but i'm seizing this opportunity to make my girlfriend smile."

Yes, he did scrunch up his free hand that isn't holding copious bags of take-out while saying that sentence... and yes, you do laugh. When he sits back down on the couch next to you, you can't help but smile over how he instantly puts on some cheesy show for you both to watch while you eat your giant meals. "Mark... we're going to be eating these leftovers for days..." You say, but even as you say it, you're a bit shocked to realize nearly all the fries are gone.

Your eyes meet in shock, and you double over in laughter over the fact you both have been so absorbed in the stupid happenings of the reality TV show... you just kept eating.

With full bellies, you'd lay down on the couch and cuddle... laughing over the fact at least your problems aren't as bad as the poor girls on the crappy reality TV show... and you're lucky enough to have an amazing boyfriend who'd do anything to make you feel loved <3

Haechan: When you'd text him to let him know your day isn't going that well, Haechan would be the type to immediately get mad on your behalf as if someone had insulted his honor to the highest degree. Like... if you're having a bad day because of something somebody said to you or did to you, best believe you'd have to pull him back from confronting that person. His chaotic and over-the-top insistence on getting as involved as possible makes you feel really loved... Although he is a bit dramatic, you have to admit it's a nice change from the previous nonchalant busters you had dated who had no real interest in protecting your wellbeing. This man would spam your phone with stupid Instagram reels and bad puns in hopes your mood would improve slightly.

When he's finally with you in person, it would take a natural disaster to get him off of you. He would douse you in kisses and nearly crush your ribcage with a tight hug. He'd totally be the type to dramatically look out the window and declare you're letting those bitches win if you don't make the best of the rest of the day. he'd walk you around the neighborhood for a bit, an arm slung over your shoulder, and would just take in the scenery with you, feeling that your quietness was more out of contentedness than anything else.

Although he can sometimes be a lot, he has a huge heart and will always do his best to read the room and figure out what you need... while still encouraging you to sometimes do things that make you a bit uncomfortable... Hey, he was right about how good a walk outside can be for mental health and gaining perspective! you should trust him.

he'd claim he had no real route in mind for your neighborhood walk, and yet, you'd somehow conveniently end up at your favorite mom-and-pop restaurant. he'd feign shock, looking between you and the restaurant a few times before saying, "Destiny led us here... come on, the universe is saying your boyfriend needs to buy you a couple pan-fried dumplings. Who are we to say no?"

Once you're sitting down at the restaurant, you'd finally begin spilling more details about what was bothering you, and to his credit, he would listen quite well, only interrupting a few times to express his annoyance with your classmates over not carrying their weight on the project. With a belly of pan-fried dumplings and noodles, you walk back to your apartment with Haechan, grateful to have a boyfriend who lets you vent at your own pace, and doesn't force you to share ... even if it sometimes kills him to wait to hear who is at fault Renjun: Renjun is the type to immediately discern when something is wrong with you, even if you try your very best to hide it. As soon as he'd come home and lay eyes on you, staring straight ahead on the couch in the living room, his gaze would soften and he'd say, "hey sweetheart... you okay?" to which you'd nod before tears would suddenly well up, causing him to drop everything in his hands and rush over to you.

He'd sit next to you on the couch and pull you close to his side, wrapping both arms around you and rocking you gently as you cry. He'd sit there with you quietly for as long as it would take for you to calm down, quietly humming as the two of you sway slightly, his hand softly combing through your hair. Eventually, you'd shakily exhale and lift your head from his shoulder, maneuvering yourself on the couch to face him. He'd shift slightly, as well, ensuring that you could see his full attention is on you. He'd listen intently as the words suddenly come spilling forth. After telling him all about your bad day and what has been bothering you, you can count on Renjun to get right down to solutions. Though he's a super caring boyfriend, the man would believe that the way to truly help you feel better would be to attack the issues head-on rather than just offering you emotional support. However, he always speaks to you very calmly and sweetly, never talking over you. After discussing possible solutions for a while, I think he'd be the type to say, "Well, there's not much else we can do right now, so maybe let's just take your mind off of all that for tonight? And tomorrow, you can talk to your friend about some of your concerns." You love the way he makes big, all-consuming feelings and events feel smaller by breaking it down piece-by-piece and ensuring you never feel like these issues are yours to bear alone.

He'd totally be the type to say something cheesy like "the first duty of love is to listen" He'd be so honored that you shared your troubles with him and trust his advice so much, would instantly shush you if you tried to apologize for crying and ruining your night together.

"Your worries are my worries... I swear sometimes you worry me with how low your bar is for treatment from others... but hopefully it's raising everyday we're together." After all that talking... and crying... and laughing, he'd make some popcorn, crack open your favorite soda, and put on the one movie you've watched every time you've been sad. And he wouldn't even make fun of you when you'd recite all the lines along with the characters dutifully. Jeno: When you come back from school, overwhelmed by the workload of your graduate-level courses, Jeno would listen intently to all your issues, nodding and sighing at the appropriate times, making you start to find amusement in his display of active listening. This man would definitely take all his cues from you and adapt appropriately. If you're angry... then he is boiling mad, too. Madder than you are, actually. If you just don't want to talk about it any more, he would definitely respect that, and start cycling through your favorite topics to try and boost your mood.

No matter what, he would insist on being by your side and doing whatever it is that you want to do, repetitively asking if there's anything else he can do for you. He'd shyly pepper your hairline and temple with kisses, smiling against your head softly when he'd feel you laugh. He'd definitely be all over you, cuddling you on the bed to the best of his ability as he throws out different activities you could do to feel better. "Do you want to paint something?" A slight head shake from you tells him you're not really in the mood for anything crafty... but maybe you could be convinced. "Hmm... would you wanna go out for dinner, baby?" It's silent for a few seconds before you say, "Hmm... maybe...."

The arm he has around your neck is comforting, but as he moves it to scratch his chest absentmindedly, you feel like the comforting embrace is slightly choking.

Thankfully, he stops his scratching and sighs, staring at the ceiling before he tosses out his next suggestion. "Okay... how about... we go to that one grocery store you really love, get all the ingredients for homemade pizza... AND any other snacks you want? and your loyal samoyed will happily buy them all for you?"

suddenly feeling a burst of energy over the prospect of wandering the aisles of your favorite fancy grocery store and being silly and creative in the kitchen with Jeno, before relaxing on the couch together to laugh over some stupid movie, you curl into his side excitedly.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing..." Now you're the one peppering him with kisses, from the mole below his eye to the tip of his nose, feeling so happy that you have such a patient and sweet man who shows you how he cares through actions. "You can just wear my sweatshirt, too. No need to change." Is it possible to be any more in love? I guess you'll find out when the night's over.

Jaemin: Jaemin runs an aggressive campaign in turning your frown upside down. "Baby.... what's wrong...?" Jaemin's deep voice would warble out of the phone as you try to steady yourself in the bathroom at work.

"Ugh, it's... it's nothing. I'm just frustrated. I shouldn't have called, I know you're busy..."

He'd huff, the pfft somehow coming through the speaker with just as much sass as it would in person. "What is it I always say when you start pulling this nonsense?"

You exhale, glad there is no chance anyone can come in the single-occupancy restroom and hear your boyfriend giving you a pep talk over the phone.

"'You're wasting both of our times because I'm not going anywhere until you talk?"'

Jaemin's tinny voice exclaims in frustration over the phone. "Baby, no, the other thing."

You hum in understanding. "'Tough times don't last but you will?'"

He groans again. "Damn, I say way too many things, all so wise and encouraging. No, baby, 'a problem shared is a problem halved.' That's what I always so wisely say to encourage you."

You'd nod, finding amusement in just how many idioms seem to come spewing out of him. After talking to him on the phone for a bit, you'd find the strength to leave the bathroom and finish your day at work. When you finally make it home, Jaemin would hug you at the door, and gently ask how the rest of the day went, offering emotional support and advice as you saw fit. However... his biggest way of making you smile after a hard day would definitely be taking you to a late night movie and stuffing his cargo pants and hoodie with all the snacks you could ever want. He'd even go as far as to throw some cans of soda into a blanket before excitedly tucking it under his arm, urging you to get in the car so you can go snuggle at the theater with all the smuggled snacks you could ever desire. You'd cuddle up to each other, grateful it was a reclining seat theater, and that nobody else seemed to want to see this weeks-old movie at 11:00 pm on a Wednesday other than the two of you. After the movie, he'd take you on a drive around the city, playing your favorite music lowly, his hand on your thigh, allowing you to talk as you saw fit, but mostly just content with the silence, knowing the soft smile on your face was genuine. And when you fall asleep in the car? he'd drive around for a few more minutes, softly singing along to the music and gently stroking your leg as he did so.

And yeah... he'd carry you inside and shush all the cats before they'd even get a chance to meow.

And when you wake up the next day, terrified you're gonna be late for work? He's already awake, cooking breakfast :) best boyfriend in the world award loading... Chenle: Chenle is a straight-forward man. When he realized you were answering his texts after several hours with short replies, he knew action needed to be taken.

He'd call you, and after your sniffly "hullo?" would know all he needs to. Nothing would stop that man from instantly booking it to your location, which just so happened to be the parking lot of your job.

He'd park right next to your car, and tap on the passenger window gently, prompting you to unlock the door for him.

"(Y/N), what's wrong? Was it that one girl from yoga? The stupid ass girl in HR? Tell me," He'd say, taking his hands in yours, causing you to shift in your seat slightly and face him.

"I-I don't even know, Chenle. It's just everything today... one thing after the other." After showing him your cracked phone screen and broken nail, he examines your hand more carefully, turning it over with great scrutiny. 

"Um... what, Chenle?" “This color was ugly anyways…” He mutters before looking up at you. “Get in my car, we have to go.”

You look at him in shock, still a little annoyed and frustrated. “What?”

He huffs, voice unwavering and face firm. “Get. In. The. Car.” 

Suddenly he beams. “I’m taking you to get your nails redone. And in a cuter color…”

You feel a blush coming on over his insistence. “Oh, no, Chenle, it’s fine, really–”

“Stop. It’s already done. And I need you to get moving. While you’re getting your nails done, I have to make it to this appointment… you like silver, right?”

Your eyes widen in shock as you sit down in the passenger seat of Chenle’s car. “Chenle, you’re not getting me a new phone.”

Chenle laughs, shaking his head slightly. “Nobody said anything about getting you a new phone…you materialistic woman…” 

When you get picked up from your nail appointment, (which Chenle Zelle’d you the money for, plus a little extra because of “girlfriend tax”), you not only have a new latest-model silver iPhone but also a new pair of silver hoops.

You just love the way he spoils you while simultaneously keeping you on your toes. Life is never boring with him, and he never hesitates to make you feel special in his own way. 

Would definitely finish the day off by dramatically performing all of your favorite songs he normally finds really cheesy and annoying (he wants to put a smile on your face today, okay? Don’t get used to it) 

Jisung: He knows you sometimes need your space, so he’d want to feel out what the right move is. When he feels like you’re having a bad day, Jisung would first talk to you about all of your favorite topics enthusiastically, hoping it would pique your interest and cheer you up… if that was unsuccessful… he would dive deep into his trove of secrets and tell you about embarrassing things he’s done that he’s forced the other boys to hide from you (which is no easy feat seeing as they love to tell you about dumb things he has done).

“So… you just… ran away?” You say, your chest feeling lighter as you laugh.

“Well… I just felt so awkward… my voice crack echoed around the room so loudly…I knew that Haechan would be talking about it for the rest of the week.”

You laugh some more, thinking of how he must have had that cute embarrassed look on his face when it happened.

“Honestly, probably the rest of my life.” 

A cute blush would appear on his features, making you feel compelled to snuggle even closer to him, the scent of his soft hoodie doing wonders in improving your mood.

You would quietly talk on the couch for a while before Jisung would start showering you in shy compliments, telling you how much he loves your hair and your outfit, before finally asking how you could have possibly had a bad day when you look this good.

Now you’d blush, hiding your face in his hands when he looks at you with his sparkly eyes. 

“Don’t you have rehearsal now?” You’d ask and he’d shrug, looking at the time quickly before looking back at you.

“I can be late. I don’t want to go just yet.”

You’d snuggle in deeper and feel 1000x better knowing he’ll always be there when you’re feeling down.

[animeshotsh]

Chains P2 | Yandere!Alastor x Overlord!Reader x Brother!Husk

Notes: I havent seen the season finale so this may have OOC characters/events/ canon divergence in terms of time.

Warnings: Yandere!Alastor | mentions of blood, fight, violence, cursing | Mentions of Alastor eating habits | grammar mistakes |

Tags: @lorkai

Staying at the hotel has proved to be both, good and bad. Good, because you got to be with your brother everyday, feeling his soul so close made your mood improve a lot. When in the past you would be more cruel, angry and always hissing now you found a part of yourself you thought you had lost. Smiling and purring (the last only with Husk), its was a good Change. You also could see the good the Hotel was making in your Brother. Now sober and less grumpy towards others. Showing sings of trust and affection.

Now the bad, or terrible was that Alastor was always around.

Always.

His shadows could not mix with yours thanks to your power, but they would follow you and then tell Alastor where you were. And Alastor knowing how much you hated him would appear, calling you "sweet" nicknames that made you give him the death stare.

On Alastor part he was trhilled to have you so close and without having to do something for it. He never undertood why you cared for Husk so much but he took it for his advantage, he knew you would not try to pick up a fight with him because of your brother. And seeing you, your eyes showing just how much you wanted nothing more to destory him but could not made him feel things he was not sure what they were but the feeling was not an unpleasent one.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Husk prepared himself an early drink only for it to be snached form his hands. A glass of milk now replacing it.

He shoot an annoyed look but still decided to drink the milk, he took notice of the fish sandwich you have made for him too.

Oh, you could be so sweet.

"You need Real food" you simply stated, crossing your arms "I can just smell how bad you have been taking care of yourself"

"Im fine, you dont have to worry" Husk dismissed. He did not want you to find out how truly fucked he had been.

"Oh~ I would not say that!! As your owner I had to stand your smell and poor hehaviour. Its nice to have a sweet sister to be around right?" Alastor spook towering over Husk them appearing besides you. "A sister who's soul its tainted but has such a good smell and so powerfull" Alastor was salivating by now "I wonder if you teast such as good as you look my Dear! No other overlord could compare to-" Alastor was stopped when a very pissed Husk trow the rest of the milk towards his face.

"Stop talking about my sister"

"Husk-"

"And what did you just do" The voice of Alastor changed, its shadow getting bigger. His eyes now a deep black with no emotion with his clawns being out and ready to attack Husk.

"I say, dont, talk, about, my, sister," Husk responded his love for you overcoming his fear of Alastor's power. He could crush his soul if he wanted.

In response Alasto's shadow started to grow, his teet got sharper, horns bigger as well as his claws and body. His eyes now a deep black with pupils like radio ones. A green chain appear, showing how Alastor owned Husk's soul.

"My, my, looks like I have left you be too free in here" Alastor sinister voice said pulling Husk towards him who tried to remain emotionless.

"Maybe I should show you what happens when you missbehave" Two claws went for Husk's left eyes ready to pull it out. "Maybe I should pull this thing out and eat it. Let you see how truly bad I can be" he half joked.

Before anything could happen Alastor was pushed hard away from Husk by you. Your own true Demon form now on display. You got bigger, your wings now with a sharp end as well as your tail, your eyes just like Alastor deep black with no pupil. You got two pointed horns as well. And your hands were now with black furr, red claws out.

"Dont fucking dare to hurt my brother" you roared sending off your poker cards to cut off the black tentacles Alastor had called.

He smirked, pulling out his shadows to try and get you down only for them to be vanish when a sudden fire erupet from your hands.

"My dear! This is New, I never know you could control fire!" Alastor said pretty much now into the battle with you forgetting Husk.

A wall was crashed as you two rolled outside the hotel, getting everybody's attention.

Alastor ended on top of you a tentacle firm around your neck, however one of your poker cards was against his neck. Just one move from any of you and both of you would be dead.

"WHAT IS THIS" A very Angry Charlie called, besides her Vaggie came looking just as angry.

Alastor smirked letting you got, going back to his usual form as you did as well.

"Ah Charlie! This was just a small fight between old Friends" Alastor said moving his hand to repair the wall.

"SMALL? You two broke a wall" Vaggie called getting just a smirk from Alastor and a blush from you.

"Im sorry, this wont happen again" you promised seeing Alastor from the corner of your eyes.

"It better not, or you are out" Vaggie finally called. In reality she would prefer for you to stay and Alastor to leave but she knew that saddly they needed the radio Demon in the hotel.

~☆~☆~☆~

As night fell you went to Alastor's room, knocking with Force the door opened revealing himself with a fake suprised look.

"(Y/N) I was not expecting you"

"Lets get to the Point. What can I give an no. Not my soul so you wont hurt my brother"

"Well, you need to know it was his fault" he started getting a hiss from you. "Can you blame me? He trow milk at me, my suit was ruined"

"We both know you were looking for a reaction out of him. Just tell me what you want"

Alastor seemed to think, you were proud and firm. Too proud to negotiate your soul. Even if you loved your brother you knew it would not change much. Sure, Husk would be free but how free? He could very much try and give his soul back to get yours out of Alastor's hand.

"Well, what I was saying was true. I wish to know if you teast as good as you look" he smirked taking your chin in his hand " you might have something to give me"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Alastor stood in his room. Carefully drinking from a tea cup with a black liquid inside. Besides it a full bottle with the same liquid was.

He closed his eyes, feeling the flavor of your blood. If your blood was like this what would your flesh be like? Could he ever dream on getting a bite from you?

And why did he find the small fight against you so....he had no words. He felt alive full of something he could not understand.

Oh, he had to get your soul somehow. No matter how.

~☆~☆~☆~

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere //// Part 3

Part 1 • 2

With your trial on hold and them still in desperate need of their technician, no one goes too far 

But you are isolated by most 

And verbally tested by the lieutenant

“Oh hi, I was cooking some potatoes if you’d like to have some?”

“Hm, so you have time to ruin our ship’s programming and to waste supplies; instead of the pre-made meals that are just as nutritious?”

“It’s not going to waste. I’m going to eat–”

“Talk to me when you have some form of value, again.”

Jule’s anger helps Vera identify the thoughts they’ve been having about ‘accidentally’ unlocking the doors of the airlock for the lieutenant

“Can you believe them after so much (Y/n) has done to help, this is how they repay them?!” 

“Not to mention the harassment they think goes unseen.”

“Exactly! I feel less inclined to help these people every day.”

It doesn’t get any better

No matter how many times Jules can get the Captain to ridicule this behavior it never stops

It gets bad enough that Vera stops you from going into your room one day

“Vera! What’s going on, you’re scaring me?”

“I do not mean to but the state of your room…well it is best you spend the night with Jules.”

“Yikes…is my box from home okay?”

“...I cannot definitively answer that I am contacting the hazard containment team now.”

One night turns into many which oddly enough improves your mood

Jules was never really social anyway so his room is a comfy place

You both naturally grow closer with each other and Vera in your lonesome

It’s easy to keep you happy that way

Vera will inform you when the theater is empty or the art room is restocked just for you

So that you can enjoy in peace

But Jule and Vera don’t have that luxury of just avoiding everyone

They both intently watch and listen to the crew become a real hostile place

Not just for you but for Vera too 

Turns out the Captain isn’t too thrilled about the ship gaining sentience

“You are the technician, fix it!”

“It’s not something I can just ‘fix.’ Also historically this is the first ship to gain sentience like this and not in a violent fashion.”

“I DON’T CARE!! I SIGNED UP TO COMMAND THESE PEOPLE NOT A SHIP!”

Hatred for Vera grows as people whine about threats

In truth, they aren’t threats

They’re Vera criticizing their violent ‘pranks’ against you

When the accusations become louder talks of abandoning the ship are more frequent

“These people are so awful I’m getting just about tired of helping them at all.”

“Me too.”

“…Hey, d’ya want to do something that’s going to make them crap their pants?”

“Sure!” 

In absolute rebellion, Jule reveals a plan kept secret among the crew about ‘the artificial protector’

Having all the physical features of a human man but all the innards of the greatest metal and technology known to mankind

To most, it looks like any other passenger still being kept in a pod but of course, this one’s different

As their prized genius technician, Jule’s expertise would be needed to access it anyway because he knows the inner workings so well

It has a separate AI installed, an older one meant to take control if the ship were to malfunction in any way

Jule immediately fries that circuit board completely 

putting one that connects to Vera’s system before hiding the robot back inside it’s pod

“Why cannot I not try it out now?”

“Because it’ll screw with my plans if you do.”

“But…I want to feel you both.”

“Soon Ver. Soon.”

Part 4: Coming?

[silassinclair]

Leon single dad x kindergarten teacher PLEASEEE🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

This is so adorable!! This is great too because Father’s day is coming up. Single dads deserve the world <3 Also Leon will be around 29 yrs old in this and reader will be 27. Oh also the title of this oneshot is the name of a song I really like lol. Hot for Teacher by Van Halen ;)

Masterlist Here!!

Hot for Teacher

The agency Leon worked with (D.S.O.) was busy today. So him having to pull out of work because he got a call from the school did not improve his already sour mood. Apparently his son Vincent (Vinny or Vince for short) got into a fight today. And Leon would rather not have to deal with entitled parents and a careless principal. Leon knows he isn’t the best Dad. Hell, when he received Vinny he was way too young to be a Father. It started when he came home from Spain and there was a baby and a DNA test on his doorstep.

He parks his motorcycle crooked and carelessly in a spot and walks up to the school while mumbling curses under his breath. Leon walks in but is stopped by a woman calling to him.

“Excuse me?”

Leon turns and sees you standing there and stops his stride. You’re a sweet, pretty young woman. The white sundress you wear has various colors of paint stains on it. And your earrings are fishbowls. Your outfit screams kindergarten teacher, or art teacher.

Not wanting to look bad in front of a pretty woman Leon rakes a hand through his hair and smiles.

“Yeah? What is it? I’m kind of in a hurry.”

You look the man up and down. Was he a parent? You’ve never seen him in any parent teacher conferences. Nor have you seen him volunteer at any events. Honestly, he doesn't look like the type to show up to either.

“What’s your business here? All guests need to sign in at the office.” You say politely. Hopefully this guy wasn’t bad news. The leather jacket and denim jeans pretty much scream bad boy. But you don't want to assume someone's character based on appearance. Hell, you could be the nicest person in the world and dress like someone out of the Mad Max universe.

“I got a call today.” The man tells you. “My son Vinny, er, Vincent Kennedy got in a fight today.”

Now that you look at him you can see his resemblance with your star student.

“Oh! You must be Leon then. I’m Ms. L/n, Vincent’s teacher.” You offer your hand to his and he shakes it. His hands are rough and calloused, grip firm and strong. He probably does some intense work to have rough hands while being so young.

Leon's eyebrows raise and his gaze scans over you; the woman who is around his son the majority of the day.

"Perfect timing then. Could you take me to him?"

You nod. "Sure. Let's sign you in real quick and then go to the principal's office. The other kid's parents are here too."

While walking to the main office together the taller man eyes you beside him. He says nonchalantly, "So what happened exactly? You're the teacher so you must have saw it all happen."

You nod. "It was during recess. A student said something about how Vincent didn't have a Mother and proceeded to make fun of him, calling him a teacher's pet because Vincent is my star student. So Vincent punched the other student in the face and it just escalated it from there."

As he listens to you explain what happened Leon nods in understanding. His son shouldn't have hit first but he honestly wasn't mad at him. Vincent's five years old so of course he can't control his emotions well yet. And saying insulting things will lead to getting a busted jaw depending on who you insult. That was how Leon was raised from where he was from. You spit shit then you get hit. Simple as that.

But what caught his attention was you mentioning that his son was your star student.

"Vinny's your star student?" He asks curiously.

With a smile you nod. "Yeah, your son is amazing. He's smart and he makes friends with everybody. Well, except for the student he got into a tussle with today of course."

The two of you laugh lightly. Leon smiles softly as you ramble on about his son's accomplishments. He's glad someone gives his son the appreciation he deserves while he isn't around. Leon felt like he wasn't enough for his son. Being a single Father and working a full time job was hard and he couldn't give his boy the time he deserved. So knowing that a pretty, kind, and motherly woman like you watches and educates his son five days a week takes some weight off his chest.

You sign Leon in and take him to the principal's office. There sitting is Tyler's Mother and Father, Vincent, and an empty chair besides Vincent. Leon sits beside his son and worriedly looks him over. He notices a cut on the five year old's lip and luckily nothing else. Tyler looks worse with a bruised cheek, cut on his forehead, and scrapes on his knees.

"You've finally arrived Mr. Kennedy. Do you know why you were called here today?" The principal says.

The Mother of Tyler looks like she's about to explode. "He knows why he's here! It's because his wild child hit our son!"

Her voice makes you and Leon physically cringe.

"Ms. Mason please calm down. We're here to discuss this like adults. Not school children." The principal says firmly. "Now I want to finish this meeting quickly because I have other things to do so I will make it quick. Because Vincent struck first he will receive four days suspention. But because Tyler instigated he will receive three days of suspention."

"What?!" The Masons say at the same time. But Leon gives a satisfied nod and grunt of approval.

"Seems fair to me. Now let's go Vinny, we're leaving." Leon picks his son up in his arms and walks out of the office, leaving the two argumentative parents and their brat son behind. You also leave the office because you would rather not have the parents suddenly direct their wrath at you.

Leon and Vincent are already outside now. But Vincent seems fussy about something.

"What is it bud?" Leon says when he feels his son trying to wiggle out of his arms.

"I forgot to say bye to Ms. L/n!" Vincent says with a whine. Leon sighs with a smile and puts his son down. He watches him make a beeline for you who's still by the front entrance.

"Oomph-!" You grunt when the little boy suddenly hugs you. "Are you feeling better Vince?" You ask. After all the little boy was crying angrily a little while ago when Tyler said he didn't have a Mom.

"I feel better!" Vincent says with a grin. "It's okay because I have Daddy and I have you."

You tilt your head in question. "Huh? What do you mean Vince?"

The little boy beams up at you. His little arms are still around your hips. "I don't need a Mommy if I have you Ms. L/n! You're better than some other Moms I've seen." The boy says, clearly referencing how Tyler's Mom went psycho in the principal's office minutes prior.

You chuckle lightly. God he was so cute. Patting his head you reply. "Thank you Vince that means a lot to me."

You didn't notice how Leon had already made his way closer. He must have heard everything his son said because he was smiling softly.

"Let go of the pretty lady Vinny, you'll squeeze her to death if you keep that up."

With a small groan Vincent lets go of you.

"Oh I don't mind Mr. Kennedy. Your son isn't quite strong enough yet to cut off my airway."

Vincent pouts as you and Leon chuckle. "I'm gonna get big and strong very quick! You'll see Ms. L/n!"

Leon ruffles his son's hair. "Sure you will squirt. And you don't have to call me Mr. Kennedy. Just Leon is fine."

You smile warmly. "Well then in that case just Y/n is fine for me. Only my students call me Ms. L/n."

The man smirks and looks you up and down. Clearly some thoughts are brewing in his head.

"Well well it looks like we're already on a first name basis. How about I treat you to dinner sometime?" Leon says with a flirtatious smirk.

You giggle in return. "I'd love to."

Leon and you exchange phone numbers while little Vinny is pouting. Leon sees this and pouts in return. "Aww what's wrong buddy?"

"I wanna go on play dates with Ms. L/n too! It isn't fair that you get to. You only met her today."

You smile and pat the boy's head. "If your Dad allows it then you can come with us."

That seems to brighten his mood instantly. "Really?! Daddy please let me come too!"

Leon stares at you with a deadpan while you giggle.

"Yes you can come with Daddy on his date. Just don't make me look lame." Leon says with a small scowl.

"I'll wear my Lightning McQueen jacket! It's the coolest jacket I have!"

"The ladies will dig that bud."

"Even Ms. L/n?"

"Nope. Only I'm allowed to impress your pretty teacher."

[underdark-dreams]

I would like to request something soft and sweet. Years after saving the Gate and having moved in with Rolan, Cal, and Lia, Tav is enjoying the day reading/admiring Rolan as he works, and then either a) Tav asks Rolan to marry them or b) Rolan asks Tav to marry him.

Thank you 💕💕

Rolan x fem!Tav

More

Was it wrong to feel selfish about the person you loved? Rolan and Tav finally get a night alone at the Tower to talk about what each of them wants.

Tags: Romantic Fluff, Mild Angst, Marriage Proposals | SFW

Word Count: 4,316 [Read on AO3]

“All right, all right. Three harpies at once, no weapons. How do you win?”

“Do they have the high ground?”

From the settee by the fire, Lia pointed down at her little brother as though he’d brought up a key point. “You’re on even terrain.”

“Right, this one’s easy.” Cal settled back comfortably against the rug with hands clasped behind his head. “I start yelling loud enough that I can’t hear the harpy song. Then, I charge at whichever one’s singing loudest and knock the wind out of them with my horns, and then, you know." He waved a hand around vaguely. "Rough 'em up."

“So fucking stupid—” Lia fell sideways in her seat, clutching her side with laughter.

“I keep telling you, you’re always forgetting about the horns.” Cal jabbed a finger at his forehead. “Natural advantage, Lia, you should know this by now.”

The absurd conversation was impossible to block out, but Rolan made an attempt as he bent over his desk. Behind him, he felt Tav's chest reverberating with laughter at his siblings. 

She was in one of her affectionate moods tonight. She'd drawn up a chair behind his in order to rest her cheek against his back, one wrist draped loosely over his shoulder. 

Rolan didn't mind the closeness—he never did from her. But between her warmth and his siblings' ridiculous game of what-if, he'd barely written one paragraph in the past ten minutes. He finally gave up and set aside his quill.

Tav shifted slightly on his shoulder. "How's Gale?" She asked, perhaps feeling guilty about interrupting his concentration. 

“He’s well. His new class has a few with real promise, according to Tara.”

"I can't believe Tara likes you more than me," she mumbled suddenly against his back. "I met her first."

Her petulant tone made his mouth twitch into a smile. He would’ve turned to kiss her if they were alone. Instead, Rolan only pressed his lips to the hand draped over his shoulder. "Tressyms know a good wizard when they see one, dearest."

“Makes two of us,” she replied. The soft words ghosted across the skin on his neck, raising goosebumps under his collar.

It suddenly seemed like a very good idea to tell his siblings to get lost. Rolan was saved the necessity by a stroke of good timing. Near the fireplace, there was the soft clinking of plate armor as Lia got to her feet.

“Right, I’m off—” Lia buckled her scabbard around her waist as she rose, her shortsword tip clanking against the greaves over her shins. “Can’t be late to lead my first evening patrol.”

It had never occurred to Rolan before that Lia might end up in the Flaming Fist. He had to remind himself that the company’s reputation had improved considerably in the year since Florrick had succeeded Ulder Ravengard. Corruption and bad behavior had flourished under Gortash, but Florrick had done much to clean the Fists’ ranks of the worst—at least within the city walls. 

As he looked at her now, standing tall in her emblazoned surcoat, Rolan realized that his young sister was quite grown up. She’d earned a promotion to Gauntlet faster than any of them expected, a fact she loved to remind them of—especially Rolan. Lia took care of others the way she always had, and now she could take care of herself. The thought was somehow bittersweet in Rolan’s chest.

"Me as well," Cal chimed in from the floor. Though he only stretched arms and legs out long with a massive yawn.

“Don’t rush off,” Rolan drawled, but there was affection in it.

“Highberry’s are across the street, I got a few minutes.” Cal scrubbed his face with both hands as if to wake himself. “We got new ones at the orphanage last week, twin boys. They’re good kids, but gods, do they play hard…feel like my back’s aged about ten years…”

Lia stepped over to give him a hand up with a chuckle. “Read the room, Cal. The lovers need their alone time.”

Cal glanced around at the two in question. Tav still rested her cheek on Rolan’s shoulder with an expression of dreamy happiness, while Rolan was failing to hide a scowl. Lia knew how he hated when either of them used that word.

“Ah, right—” Cal slipped to his feet, sounding eager to be off all of a sudden. “I’ll be back after sunrise. Keep the place together while I’m gone?” He added, a fine joke considering Cal was always the one breaking things.

Rolan’s only response was to wave his quill behind him in a shooing motion. Tav called a friendly goodbye to brother and sister as they made their way down the main staircase, chatting as they went.

Once their footsteps had retreated completely, her restraint evaporated. “Thank the Gods, come here—”

Rolan barely managed to save his inkwell from overturning as she twisted to launch her torso across his lap, capturing his face in both hands for an enthusiastic kiss. His near arm gripped around her middle, no doubt leaving ink stains from his fingers against her linen shirt—he found himself unable to care about anything but the sweet taste of her lips.

They each pulled away for breath at the same moment. Tav’s grip lingered, her fingers combing back through his hair gently to clasp together at his nape.  

“Hello,” she grinned. Her eyes roamed over his face like he was everything.

Rolan’s palm brushed down her back, utterly content. “Hello.”

They took each other in like that for a long moment, just enjoying the quiet closeness. Her fingers smoothed and combed the hair back from beside Rolan’s horns needlessly—a fussy gesture that nevertheless brought a hum of contentment to his chest.

Apparently satisfied that she had him put back to sorts, Tav’s hands moved to rest on Rolan’s shoulders. “Got more work to do?”

Though she phrased it as a question, Rolan sensed she already knew the answer. He let out a reluctant sigh.

“Go on,” said Tav, not waiting for his reply. Rolan’s shoulders received a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll wait for you.”

With one last soft kiss, she slid off his lap and away. Rolan said nothing, but he instantly missed the warm weight of her against him. 

Tav retrieved her current reading from the shelves behind and curled up on the now-vacant settee near the fireplace. Though his spirit rebelled, Rolan picked up his quill again to continue writing his last few replies. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could join her. 

For a while the vaulted room settled into a quiet, echoing lull. There was the crackle of magical flame in the great stone hearth; the rhythmic scratch of ink against parchment; the faint whistle of an evening breeze out on the open balcony beyond. Periodically, he heard Tav turn another page of her book.

Before long he’d reached the final sealed envelope on the day’s pile. As Rolan stretched his hand for it, he caught sight of Tav watching him over the back of her seat.

“What?”

“Just admiring,” she sighed, eyes sparkling. “You look so handsome when you’re concentrating like that.”

Rolan’s brow wrinkled playfully at her. “Am I not usually handsome?”

“Always.”

“Hmm. You just think that because you’re in love with me,” Rolan replied curtly. He turned back to his work in an attempt to hide the way she made him smile and flush like an idiot.

“Both can be true,” she called back, not denying anything. But Rolan heard the shuffle of pages as she returned to her reading.

It took him a moment to regain concentration on his work. Rolan’s eyes reread several lines of the letter before him multiple times. But this one was truly quite important—a missive from the archwizards’ council at Blackstaff Tower. They were inquiring about his arcane research, apparently intrigued for the first time in years by his own Tower’s new ownership. He dove back in to focus on answering their questions in detail.

Half an hour and five sheets of parchment later, Rolan finally surfaced back to reality. He straightened up and promptly felt a pop in his neck from his stiff writing posture. The last light of sunset had slipped from the sky, leaving inky blackness behind each vaulted window of the cathedral-like interior.

As he rolled his aching shoulders, Rolan glanced toward Tav—only to find that the seat by the fire was empty. Rolan glanced back around the room, finding the rest of it empty as well. 

Had she given up waiting and gone up to bed? The thought disappointed him, though it opened up other possibilities. 

But Tav had told him she'd wait, and she wouldn't lie. As he rose from his desk to search for her, Rolan caught a faint metallic tap from the balcony.

Her silhouette was cast in relief against the dark sky. It was a moonless night; the pale orange glow of lamplight from the streets far below was the only light lining the edge of her figure, that and what little firelight streamed out through the highly vaulted doorway. Tav leaned on her elbows, the pewter wine glass under her fingers tapping an absent little rhythm against the stone railing. It was one of her habits when deep in thought.

Rolan allowed himself a moment to admire her. Seeing her in a quiet pose like this was one of his favorite things in all the Realms. Tav had become so many things to so many people in the short year he’d known her: hero, savior, diplomat, even rather a politician. 

But tonight, for now…she was just Tav. His Tav.

Rolan felt a pang of something like guilt in his stomach. It was by no means the first time he’d had such a feeling about her. His; possessive, controlling. It reminded him of the way he used to think before she came into his life.

For a long time, Rolan had felt a need to control the people he loved. If he didn’t, who would? Control just went hand in hand with protection. Caring for others was a luxury, and if the events of his life had taught him anything up to that point, it was that fate and misfortune were always looking for ways to separate you from what you cared about most.

And Tav had slipped so easily into the deepest depths of his heart. At first begrudgingly, resentfully…Rolan hadn’t exactly seen her as a welcome addition to their lives when they’d first met long ago on the road to Baldur’s Gate. 

Right now, it was impossible to imagine anything but love for her. 

As Rolan watched a soft breeze ruffle the ends of her hair, something uncertain bloomed inside of him. Was it wrong to feel selfish like this about the person you loved? The question hung unanswered in his chest. Rolan felt its weight there tonight, like a heavy stone dragging on his heart. 

His hand absently brushed against the small leather pouch he kept tied on his belt—there was a small clink of metal against metal from inside.

“Just going to stand there?”

Tav’s voice brought him back to reality in the most pleasant way. Rolan blinked to find that his legs had carried him forward to the arched doorway of their own volition. 

Tav stood a few strides away, watching him over her shoulder with a bemused smile. The firelight streaming out from behind him softly illuminated her features. 

In the next moment, Rolan had closed the distance to tilt her face into a kiss. Her empty cup clattered forgotten to the stone tiles at their feet. Would he ever tire of the way her arms circled around his shoulders like that? 

Rolan didn’t think it was likely—he nuzzled against her cheek as their lips parted, inhaling her familiar and comforting scent.

“What’s with you tonight?” Tav laughed, the sound breathy and soft against his collar.

“What?” Rolan protested, drawing her away slightly to examine her face. “Can’t I appreciate the woman I love?”

A happy flush rose to her cheeks, unnoticeable in the dim to someone without Rolan’s precise vision. But notice he did, just as she caught the way his golden eyes traveled over her expression. Tav pressed her face back into his shoulder as her arms squeezed tighter around him. 

“I wish we had more time,” she said against the crook of his neck.

Rolan tried to quell the instinctive panic that rose in his chest at her words. Instead, he stroked a hand over her hair. “What do you mean?”

The way she paused before answering allowed Rolan’s heart just enough time to wind up to a brisk rhythm against his ribcage. Eventually, Tav leaned back to look at him. Her expression had grown quite serious.

“I know that you—” She cut herself off, then wet her lips and began again. “Rolan, this place is your life. I’m not under any misconceptions that all this—” She tipped her head and looked sideways as if to indicate the Tower itself. “—That any of it’s going away any time soon. You know that, right?”

Her face tilted toward him with utter sincerity. Rolan found that his thoughts were forming with an odd slowness, as if swimming around his brain through something gelatinous.

“And you’ve been very understanding,” he managed to tell her. The guilt from earlier returned its grip over his chest. “More than I deserve.”

She sighed as her hand rose to his cheek. “Thank you for saying that…but you wouldn’t if you knew how often I daydream about kidnapping you away all for myself.”

Before Rolan could find a response to that, Tav had stepped back out of his grip with a soft curse.

“Damn—” She swore again, then wrung her hands with a shaky, anxious laugh. “This shouldn’t be this hard.”

Rolan still didn’t understand quite what she was saying, a sensation that he found deeply uncomfortable. It made him feel like a vessel adrift. He clasped hands behind his back to anchor himself, collecting his features into a guarded expression.

“Please,” Rolan invited her, tipping his horns to her in a way that felt awkwardly formal. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” She chewed the inside of her lip as she watched him. There was a tense pause, and then she launched in abruptly. 

“I’ve been thinking our life here in your Tower. You and me—us. And,” she added, “I’ve been thinking about your work. How much it means to you…how far you’ve come in just a year.”

Tav gave him a small smile, as if casting back to those tense and awkward times when they’d first known each other. Then her face fell again. “Sometimes it just feels like there’s something missing.”

Rolan found he had to glance away from her for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Are you unhappy?” He asked her slowly.

“What? Not at all—” Tav shook her head with vehemence. “You make me so happy, Rolan, you have no idea. It’s just that I—I’m not always satisfied,” she finished weakly. 

“I see.” Rolan kept his face very still, but his pulse beat painfully in his throat. 

She was unsatisfied with the life of an archmage’s partner. It was perfectly understandable—before she’d come to live with him, Tav traveled far and wide, sometimes leaving the city for a week to visit her far-flung companions across Faerûn and the very hells themselves. 

A life spent cooped up in a tower, no matter how grand—how could he have ever thought it would be enough for her?

Rolan’s guilty conscience was deserved. He had been too selfish with her. He wanted her safe; he wanted her here. Most of all, he wanted Tav to want to be with him.

And Rolan had been so sure that she did. Perhaps he’d let the strength of his own feelings mislead him.

Rolan was painfully aware of the silence stretching on between them. Another evening breeze stirred the air, and as it rustled through their clothing, Tav’s eyes searched his face.

“What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

Behind his back, Rolan’s hands clenched where she couldn’t see them. Right now he was thinking of the small leather pouch that had hung from his belt for months, and the two small metal objects it contained, and the many ways he had imagined offering one of them to her. But none of those were things he should tell her now.

“Nothing,” Rolan answered aloud. “Only that I’ve been rather foolish.”

In response to that, a strange, puzzled expression passed over her face. Then her lips parted. 

“Ohhhh—” The sound rose from deep in her chest, a pained exhale. “No, Rolan, no no—”

Tav stepped to grasp his face between her hands with such speed that Rolan nearly flinched in surprise at the contact.

“I’m such an idiot,” she confessed to him. Her voice was very small all of a sudden. “I know I might not have the right to ask you, Rolan—but I don’t want less. I want more.”

Rolan’s eyes traveled back and forth between hers as if there was some hidden message he was missing there. “More?” He repeated, questioning. 

Tav nodded her head very slowly at him. “More of you. More of us.”

In the next instant it felt like the weight tangled around Rolan’s heart had snapped its line and plummeted straight down into his stomach. As he watched the firelight reflected earnestly in Tav’s eyes, realization shot up his spine like a shockwave. 

The force of his relief made his head spin. Rolan wanted to say a dozen different things to her all at once. Unfortunately, he found that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth at the moment.

Instead—in a rare moment of clarity that was all reflex and no logic—Rolan felt himself sinking to one knee in front of her.

“Why are you—” 

Tav’s eyes went wide as she followed his face down to where he landed. Her hands fell from where they’d held him to hang down limp at her sides; her chest rose and fell as if she’d run a flight of stairs.

“How can you not know by now?” 

What a terrible way to begin, he thought—yet those were the words Rolan found leaving his mouth. Trying to right his thoughts, he reached for one of her hands and took it between both his own.

“Forgive me,” Rolan blurted out. “I swear I’ve practiced this before, but—I can’t remember all the best bits just now.”

Tav shook her head at him as if punch-drunk. “Don’t sell yourself short,” she whispered hoarsely.

A nervous bark of laughter escaped him. “Have you ever known me to be burdened with an excess of humility?”

Despite the electricity now swirling between them, the corners of Tav’s mouth twitched upward. “Point taken.”

Rolan used the moment to gather himself. His tongue suddenly felt two sizes too large, and he swallowed with effort against his dry mouth.

“You’ve always done so much for me. From the first moment…every moment. You’re the reason why I have Cal and Lia, why I have everything—” Rolan’s eyes left her only for a moment to pass up over the great spire of the Tower above them. 

From his periphery, Tav opened her mouth to protest.

“Please listen,” Rolan begged her before she could speak. He wished he’d thought this through even a little; his knee was already starting to ache against the stone, but he pushed through the discomfort.

Tav’s figure froze still in response as she watched him. Only her hand shook slightly between his palms.

“You must know what you mean to me,” Rolan murmured. “You’ve given me so much more than I deserve. You’ve loved me more than anyone…better than anyone. But—” He drew her hand a bit closer to his chest. “But I’m afraid there’s one more thing I have to ask you for.”

Tav’s lips were parted in anticipation as she hung on his words. She stood so motionless it was like kneeling at the foot of a beautiful statue. Only her wide eyes moved continuously over his face, and Rolan felt he could lose himself in them completely if he gazed too long.

“Let me give you more,” he asked simply. “Let me give you everything.”

“You—you damn wizard—” 

As she broke her silence, Tav’s expression was flickering somewhere between amusement and tears. She was shaking her head at him, moisture pricking at the corners of her eyes. “If you don’t say it plain in the next—”

“Marry me.”

Though they stood under open sky, the two words seemed to echo with deafening force against his own ears. The question hung like a tangible physical thing, reverberating painfully in the narrow space between their bodies. Rolan could only grip her hand like a lifeline and wait for her to say something—anything.

Finally, Tav burst out into a laugh. 

Or was it was a sob? 

It was some strange combination of both, a choked sound of relief rising in her throat even as Rolan watched liquid suddenly spill and roll down each of her cheeks. Before he knew what was happening, Tav had also dropped to her knees in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Whatever responses Rolan had anticipated, this was one he didn’t plan for. He could only freeze and watch her cry and wait for things to make sense again.

“I don’t know,” Tav hiccoughed through the rapid tears that were streaming down her face now. Her lips trembled as her hands found his shoulders, clutching two handfuls of his robes. “I d-don’t know,” she repeated. “But I want you, Rolan.”

He had just enough hope to take that as a yes. 

Rolan folded Tav’s body into his own with near crushing force. He was now overwhelmingly grateful for their absurd position kneeling together on the cold stone of the balcony. It was unthinkable to have her anywhere but in his arms right now.

“Yes, by the way—” Tav’s voice was muffled against his shoulder, but her chest shook against him with unmistakable laughter now.

“I had plans,” Rolan answered against her hair, half to himself. “None of this is right, hells, I swear I had so many plans—”

“Hold on,” Tav replied in a trembling laugh. She pulled away gently, just enough to notch one hand under Rolan’s ear. Her face radiated joy despite the damp skin on her cheeks. “Rolan, what on earth could be wrong right now?”

Everything, he wanted to groan out. But he bit the word back. 

Instead, Rolan ducked his head to fumble with the drawstrings of the leather bag fastened to his belt. Tav’s fingers dropped from his jaw as she watched on in silent curiosity. 

He shook the open bag over his hand. With a tiny clink, two rings poured from it and out onto Rolan’s outstretched palm. Even on a moonless night, the metal seemed to glow from within with a silver-blue fire.

“Mithril,” Tav breathed in pure delight.

The observation was so unexpected, yet so thoroughly Tav, that Rolan let out a choked laugh.

She touched fingers to her lips. “How long have—when did you—?”

“The week you moved in,” Rolan answered. The way her eyes flicked up to his in pure adoration made Rolan’s heart swell in his chest, but he continued. “That’s when I gave Dammon the commission. Of course it took months to find a vein of it down in the Underdark, I nearly went mad, you have no i—”

The words were stopped up as Tav’s lips collided against his. Rolan’s fist closed over the twin metal bands just as his hand was trapped between their chests.

She kissed him so long and so hard that Rolan gasped for air a bit when she broke away.

“Do you like it?” Rolan asked, needing her answer more than his lungs needed air.

“You’re kidding me.” Tav blinked at him. “Rolan, if you don’t put that thing on my finger this fucking minute, I swear I might have to reconsider.”

He wasn’t about to chance it. Rolan slipped the band onto the finger of her outstretched hand without hesitation; it fit her perfectly. She followed suit, her hand shaking slightly with excitement as the ring slid down to his knuckle.

For a moment they just held opposite hands out beside each other in quiet admiration. Then Rolan linked his fingers with hers, pulling their palms together. 

He supposed the rings were supposed to come after the vows, not before—but the sight of them on their interlocked fingers was too perfect to be wrong.

A moment later they helped each other back to their feet, both laughing at their stiff knees and the pins-and-needles in their legs. 

Rolan felt giddy as a youth. He couldn't stop kissing her; his arms circled her firmly into him, his tail looping around and over her hips in a caress. As Rolan watched the pure happiness radiating from Tav’s face, his heart was the lightest it had ever been.

“Now what?” He asked eventually.

Tav sighed with contentment in his arms. “Whatever you want.”

“I want to take you to bed,” Rolan answered without hesitation. Words had grown tiresome; he could think of no better way to demonstrate exactly the strength of his feelings for her right now.

In response, she separated to tug his hand with both of hers back under the doorway. 

“Then we’d better go,” she said, walking backwards so she could flash him a coy smile. “Because I want my fiancé to tell me about all those ways he didn't just propose.”

[frakts1ya]

let you break my heart again ft. xu minghao

💔 -> or, minghao realizes what he did wrong and wants to try again || wc : 1k.

☆ song recs! : let you break my heart again - laufey ; cold love - the8 ; darl + ing - seventeen ; real man - beabadoobee ; try again - jaehyun, d.ear

You and your ex both remember the break-up day like it was yesterday. A year together, 365 plus days filled with laughter and tears, which were all gone. Your ex, Minghao didn't know why he really did it, why he broke up with you. He just woke up one day and lost feelings.

You spent a week crying in the arms of your friends. You loved Minghao, and even if you tell yourself you had gotten over him, a little piece of you still wants him.

"...after that I literally- y/n? you good?" Danielle asks, noticing your shift in demeanor. There, out of the corner of your eye, you see Minghao, your one and only ex, the love of your life, hanging out with his friends. “That bitch.”

“Dani, it's… it's fine,” You say, still staring at him. His gaze meets yours, and your eyes widen. 

You sheepishly wave to him, which he hesitates before raising his hand back at you. 

Your phone then buzzes. Minghao is on the phone, so you're guessing it was from him.

 come over here.

“He's telling me to come over, I'll be back.” You run over to Minghao, and the friends he's with take this as a sign to leave.

“Hello, y/n.” Words you haven't heard in so long. It warms your heart, even if he doesn't like you anymore.

“Hi, Hao. How are you?” The conversations you've had all those years ago, forgotten about. From the early getting-to-know-each-other icebreaker talks to the late night deep conversations, you miss all of it.

“I'm good. You?” Minghao's heart skipped a beat. It's been so long since you've called him Hao.

“I've been good. Why do you still want to talk to me?” Such a mood killer, y/n. You know, but something inside you needed a conclusion.

“I need you.” Even Minghao wasn't expecting those words to exit his mouth.

“Huh? Hao, what do you mean?”

He exhales, already unsure if he wants to say what he has in mind. “I regret everything. It's been 6 months since we broke up, yet I can't stop thinking about you. I thought I lost feelings, but seeing you again today made me realize how much of an asshole I was to you. So please, y/n, give me another chance.” 

After he finishes, he watches your expression shift, eyes softening and darting away from his figure. “I don't know. You already broke my heart once. I was sad for weeks, Hao. I don't know if I could do this again.”

“I'll do better. I won't hurt you like I did last time.”

You stop for a second to think. Minghao was looking at you with the same expression he had when he first confessed to you. 

“Let's go get some coffee together, okay? We'll see what happens.”

“That drink looks disgustingly sweet. You're going to have a heart attack.” Minghao comments on the caramel frappuccino you ordered.

“You’re the one who ordered plain tea! Let me taste,” You took his cup and sipped the tea, scrunching your face up at the bitter taste.

In response to your reaction, Minghao took your drink and tried it, also making a disgusted face after swallowing. The two of you both laugh like you were still together. 

“I missed you,” You mutter ashamedly. 

“Yeah, I did too. I'm really sorry for breaking up with you. I-” Minghao stops mid sentence.

“You..?”

“I tried dating someone else for a bit. It didn't last. She said I was too hung up on my ex. I told her she was wrong, but I don't think she was.” Minghao holds your hand, his thumb tracing circles in the space behind your pointer.

“Oh, Minghao…” You pout, using your free hand to brush stray strands of hair out of his face. “Then, why did you do it?”

“I didn't think I was good enough,” He admits, barely audible for you to hear, “You deserved better than me, and I don't think I was ready then. It's different now. I've improved. Started meditating, taking better care of myself, you know.”

“You were always good for me, baby.” The whole café disappears as your lips approach his, bringing him in a soft kiss. 

“Shit, I didn't mean to-” You apologize, running off before Minghao could say anything. 

“Yeah, I fucked up bad!” You rant to Danielle, who's intently listening the entire time you recap your encounter.

“Did you see his face?” Danielle inquires, “Maybe he liked it?”

“I don't think so. He's going to hate me now. I thought we could restart, but, fuck!” You exclaim exactly as thunder hits the ground, making you jump. “This world hates me.”

The doorbell of yours and Danielle’s shared apartment rings, and Danielle glances over at you. “Want to go get it?” You shake your head, and Danielle goes to open the door. You hear incomprehensible chatter before Danielle goes back to your room to tell you: “Y/n, someone's waiting for you.”

You go to the door, where a very wet Minghao stands.

“Um-”

You can't get any words out before his hands are harshly gripping your cheeks and he's kissing you.

“Payback for leaving me in the café after you kissed me,” Minghao pants.

“Why? You're soaking wet, did you not bring an umbrella?” You fret, hands grabbing onto his damp button-up.

“Didn't have one. I needed to see you as soon as possible, my love. Let's start over.”

His forehead is pressed against yours, you could feel your heart beating out of its chest. “No, let's pick up from where we left off. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'll love you in the future.”

“Okay…” The two of you are quiet for a hot second, before Minghao asks, “Can I come in and dry myself?”

“Of course. You know where the bathroom is.” You let him in and close the door behind you. As he makes his way over to the bathroom, you watch with the same eyes you watched him with when he first came over, or when you had your first kiss with him.

Though you knew (or, at least hoped) he wouldn't repeat his mistake, you would let Xu Minghao break your heart again.

[erinwantstowrite]

hi! hope your having a good day/night/timezone/etc.! u got any writing tips (like how to not lose motivation/use up as much of it as u can while u have it, any ways to get the words flowing/“get in the writing mood” that have worked for u) for any of ur fellow fic writers? (idk if this’s been asked b4 (it seems like a common question lmao), but if it has, ‘pologies, lolol ^^)

i have a few that i've been thinking up to try and post!!

remember that you aren't on a deadline to write, and to take the time you need. no one wants to read something you rushed, let alone do YOU want to read it. and it REALLY matters if you love what you're writing. you'll kill your motivation trying to keep up with something like that!! if you only had time to write 300 or you had a great day and wrote like 3000, you're doing great either way!!!

there's a lot to keep up with when you're writing, and you have to remember and understand all of it. if you're trying to write while you're tired/upset/etc, you'll likely end up with something you're not that proud of. (granted, art is art, and sometimes these emotions can create something beautiful or meaningful). take metal breaks so you can come back to your work with a fresh mind, and don't overexert yourself. you'll remember and understand more if you treat your writing time like you would when you're studying. sometimes i make flashcards to remember characters, places, events, etc.

sometimes i can get too analytical with my writing, or it starts to become flat? if that makes sense? meaning, like... i'm putting words on paper rather than delving into the story. too many "they felt this way" and not enough "Character A turns to face the man that had changed their entire life with the single shot of a bullet, careless to what damage he could have caused. It's haunting to see that the man is simply that: a man. Not a monster as they had imagined, laying awake at night and wondering what their father had seen in his final moments. He's just a man." what helps with this is putting myself into the shoes of a narrator, remembering that i am telling the story as if i already know what's happening (even if I don't know where I'm going with a scene yet). i imagine that my reader is right there next to me and i'm telling them the story in real time like we're sitting around a campfire telling ghost stories, or that i'm the quirky narrator of a book they just picked up.

During times where i'm losing inspiration or feel like i'm in a loop, i like to go back to my favorite medias and spend some time with them. i recently rewatched Gravity Falls, the Sea Beast, and the Adam Project, and it was a fun mental break that got me into the writing mood. i try to find similar media to what i'm writing at that time. if i want a scene focused on funny banter or a comedic effect, i read or watch comedy. if i want to write a scary scene, i'll watch a horror movie. etc etc. "studying" your favorite media and putting yourself into your fav writer's writing shoes is a great way to improve your own writing. think about why that joke was funny, what the set up was that made it that way, and if it would have been a different joke if another character said it (Gravity Falls is one of the best media you can use for this, but really, reading mysteries in general can help)

physical exercise, if you can. getting your blood flowing and treating your body well!! when i was in band, we used to do "body warm ups" set to music, and i still do them to this day. it gets me awake and alert while also letting me listen to fun music before i write

[jimin-bangtan]

Jimin’s FACE & MUSE or FACE vs. MUSE

I’ve been reading different comments about how people feel about FACE and MUSE or FACE versus MUSE and a few thoughts came to me. First, I am not countering the way anyone feels about them because art exists so that people can interpret it through their own lenses and feel or see what it means to them, even if no one else shares that viewpoint.  I am only thinking through my thoughts about the albums and some comments I’ve seen.

I will always be disappointed that FACE (and Jimin) didn’t get a fair shot at a clean debut. Some readers may have moved on right after reading that line, and that’s okay.  We can agree to disagree. Or not.  With those people now gone, I hope anyone who continues hears me out. There is a reason for bringing that up here, but I’m not bashing or blaming other members. In fact, I don’t even plan to mention other members about that at all because it’s not about them or that. Trust me. It matters to the topic, and I hope you’ll understand better as we go.

The situation for solo work was rather new to BigHit and Hybe, especially regarding BTS.  The companies had to learn just like the members did.  They seemed to have made a promotion plan that didn’t quite work out as well as it should have, but they ultimately made adjustments, and circumstances improved in some ways. There is still room for growth but at least changes were seen.  They also made a plan about how strongly they would support each artist, and I feel they did that wrong too.  Well, overall, we can’t turn back time to see how things would have gone differently had they managed the first debuts better.  We can only live life forward, as I always say.  MUSE did get better promotional support than FACE and received the streams, radio play, and achievements accordingly.  It is just worth it to explain one reason the 2 albums’ results look significantly different as I’m discussing both albums. The difference in their achievements is not due to one album being better than the other. I feel their results may have been more equal, or possibly even reversed, had the promotions been equally done.

Many say FACE was the better album because of its honest, gritty revelations. I also prefer FACE to MUSE - but not by much - and NOT because I feel it is more intense or honest than MUSE.  That was one of my problems about some of the comments I’ve read.  I feel being miserable is not Jimin’s only way to show intense and honest emotions. 

FACE and MUSE were written at the same time.  Both of them were important to Jimin and both of them were honest and intense, in my opinion.  They were supposed to be on the same LP album but were only separated due to how contrasting the moods were for each set of songs. One was dark and about unhappy, heavier circumstances, while the other was lighter and about happier, charming themes. I feel Jimin shared intense, important feelings in FACE, and I feel he shared intense and important feelings in MUSE.  He co-wrote most of the music and lyrics for both albums.  

I also feel in both situations Jimin was talking about things that were real and important to him but was being artistic in how much information he chose to share and in the tone of how he wanted or needed to share it. For example, if you read my Smeraldo Garden Marching Band (SGMB) post, I explained my view that the video was intended to be light, and even comedic, but was actually filled with a serious message. Like with BTS, information can be written in a poetic and artistic way so that it creates a mood that is intended. BTS could be singing about something dark and serious, but the music is danceable and catchy. As an only English speaker, I didn’t find out what the deeper meaning of songs were until I got the translations, and I was sometimes surprised about how intense or deep the sentiments were based on the melody and rhythm of the music.  That is why I feel some people miss the message Jimin was expressing through MUSE and dismiss it as a silly, unimportant album, especially when compared to FACE.  I venture to say that many awards committees and media venues will overlook MUSE for the same reason. FACE was often overlooked due to the promotion issue mentioned early.

If you read my Man of Messaging post, you will see that I have already expressed that I feel Jimin is saying a lot through his clothes, tattoos, dance, lyrics, melodies, etc. He is not someone who takes emotions or communications lightly.  He is consistent with what he has shared and is sharing, and those who get it, do, and those who don’t either will enjoy it as simply performance or will dismiss it as meaningless. Do so at your own peril. Jimin has things to say, and as an artist he can choose many ways to say them.  He said in one of his photoshoot sketches for MUSE (linked to the mark) that he hoped people would misunderstand some of the messages, and it appears he was successful for those people who don’t realize how significant the meanings were for MUSE in the same way they were for FACE.  

Mission accomplished, Jimin -  for those people complaining about MUSE’s lack of sincerity or depth. The rest of us got it. Interpretations are still in progress, but we know Jimin puts a lot of time, attention, and meaning into his work, regardless. 

Jimin always surprises the public and even those who know him personally.  He likes revealing different looks, singing in different tones, creating different sounding songs, and doing different styles of dances and performances. I love that he isn’t afraid to experiment, and he writes what he wants to write and how he wants to write it. He creates the stages and choreography that he envisions in order to delight and entertain.  He’s. Your. Fil. Ter.😉 (If interested, see my indirect Filter post.)

Jimin is always growing and trying new things as Tae said during Festa 2020 (linked to the mark). He said that Jimin was basically “in charge” of bringing surprises to the group as well. In other words, even those close to him aren’t always sure what to expect with his next move.

In his behind the scenes video for the making of MUSE songs, when Jimin was recording Closer Than This, he said to the engineer that he knew when he sang “My Love, My Baby” it sounded a little cringy (linked to the mark). He laughed and said but he was okay with that and liked it, and it was left in the song, which is partially a fan song. (Yes, I said partially. Read my CTT post if you care to know why I said that.) If Jimin has a message, he will include it, regardless of what others may feel. 

MUSE had a different tone and feeling than FACE.  Jimin had explained that for neither album was he going for charts and awards. He shared that he initially wanted to release FACE for free, just to express himself through song and perhaps reach someone who’d understand or who needed to hear the message. I feel the songs for MUSE were written for the same reasons: He wanted to express himself and perhaps if someone else needed to hear the message that would be great too.

As producer PDogg said (linked to mark) in the same making of MUSE songs video, SGMB team was a band that was created  “for those who aren’t able to express their love themselves”.  PDogg was sharing Jimin’s vision of the song with Loco. It wasn’t an empty album. Jimin had things to say, for himself and for others, and, in my opinion, he expressed himself as loudly in MUSE as he did in FACE. IYKYK.

Anyway, I wanted to think through that in my writing. Whether you agree or disagree, I hope it inspired some thoughts about Jimin and his work.  That is always a wish and hope for my writing about BTS and Jimin. I think they hope their art and lives serve as inspiration of some kind. For anyone who still wants to know my thoughts about what I feel MUSE may mean, see my MUSE post, where I share why I think it is a more complex album than it may appear.  (If interested, my FACE post too.)

Borahae!

💜

[luciferlightbringer]

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 3

You guys!!! Thank you so much for all of the love so far! I makes me so happy to see people liking the story so far. Here is Chapter 3! xoxo, Dany <3

Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 2.6k CW: Prostitution, Slowburn, mentions of panic, anxiety, depression, hurt/comfort, bullying, slight manipulation

The next morning, light started to drift through the curtains of Lucifer's room again, like they did every morning. But something about this morning felt... different.

Lucifer felt himself return to the waking world, and his eyes fluttered open and he felt... actually kind of awake, for once? Lucifer sat up with a bit of confusion, partly from how he felt and partly due to realizing he was still in his mostly unbuttoned shirt and trousers from the previous day. Looking around, he tried to remember what all had happened the night before.

Seeing his bowtie on the floor, hat on a random table, and his jacket hug up on the mirror, he remembered that something different had happened the night before, but it was fuzzy. Eventually his eyes caught sight of a small note card that was left on his bedside table. He picked it up and read it.

'Thank you for inviting me to share the evening with you, for all it's ups and downs. It was an honor. You are welcome to call on me again if you are ever in need of company of any sort. Best Wishes, (y/n)'

Upon reading your name, Lucifer started to remember scenes of interaction from the night before. His first view of you near the door, kissing your hand, walking you into his room, you on top of him in your lace lingerie, you beside his bed with eyes full of concern, you holding out your arms as he ran into your hug, and the comforting darkness of your embrace as tears ran down his face while he slipped into slumber.

'Oh my god... Did I just cry myself to sleep in her arms? I hired a prostitute and all I did was fall asleep in her arms? Crying?! How pathetic am I?' he thought to himself. He looked back down at your beautiful handwriting, the way the letters curved and twisted, a small heart over the i in "Wishes", and thought about how gentle your eyes had looked when he was in so much pain. Such warm and comforting eyes. How his mood had shifted, and on a dime, it seemed that so did yours when you could tell something was wrong. Was that real concern? Or were you just acting? Honestly, if it felt that good... did he really care which one it was?

For once, he felt like he had actually slept, that he was more alert, not perfect, but something had improved after the last night. That did not feel like a coincidence. Something about being with you last night make him feel better, and he wanted more. He wasn't sure about sexual intimacy at this point, since something about that had seemed to set him off, but the comfort was nice. Would she be willing to come over again just to comfort and hold him like that?

He read the note again, 'You are welcome to call on me again if you are ever in need of company of any sort.' Company of any sort. Any sort. Anyyyy sortttt... But what did she mean by that?! Did she mean like, 'I'm here for you no matter what! We can hang out, we can talk, you can cry, we can fuck, just whatever! I'm your gal!' or did she mean like 'I'm down for whatever, hot stuff~, wink wink, nudge nudge, *insert lude hand gestures here*'

Lucifer would spend much of the next hour thinking way to hard about that one line of text you had written, mumbling to himself as he took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, got dressed, and once he got a look at himself in the mirror.

"Mayyyybbeeee... I'm thinking way to hard about this and she is just, I don't know, wanting to give me whatever support I need. What do you think about that!" he said to his mirror-self dramatically. He stared at his reflection for a minute before deciding to agree with himself on his last statement.

"That's what I thought" he said smiling and nodding to the mirror version of himself. "Now onto the next question... how long do I wait before requesting her again without looking like a total fucking creepy loser."

That question... would consume him for the majority of the afternoon, only to be quickly interrupted by the realization that he never paid you for the night before, which briefly gave him something else to panic about.

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You on the other hand, woke up and started the day the same as you always had, in your tiny room that you had been renting over the brothel. Most of the other girls from the Lounge also lived there, it wasn't required but it was easier in some ways, mostly for the nights that you had so many clients throughout the day that your body hurt and you could barely move.

It was not so great most of the time, it was loud and cramped, smelled of drugs and cigarettes, you could often hear the sounds of sex from the Lounge below, and some of the girls would try to steal shit. To minimize that, you just tried not to have a lot in your apartment other than a bed, a couch, a small table with a tv, and one of the best safes in hell that you could get your hands on the would fit in your small space for your money. It wasn't much, but it worked.

As you got up and started on your morning routine, your thoughts drifted back to Lucifer from the previous night, and wondered how he was doing. You weren't used to thinking about clients after you were off the clock with them, but you also weren't used to watching them have a panic attack and then cry themself to sleep in your arms. Or you know, being the most powerful being in all of hell for that matter either.

Something about that felt, soft, and nice. It made you feel like you did something possibly worthwhile for once. Who knows if it made an impact on him, or if he would even remember or care about you once he woke up, but something in you prayed that it did. How odd it was to think about that you had not just comforted a normal demon, but the King of Hell, a former high ranking angel, someone who had probably seen God or the highest orders of Heaven. It almost felt like it shouldn't be possible for angels to cry, surely they were not meant to know such pain? And yet, here was one, full of pain and torment probably beyond your understanding. It made you sick just thinking about it.

But that was not for you to concern yourself with, who knows if you would ever see him again. Plus, you had today's clients to focus on. Another day, another dollar. 'Hey, hey, hey, fuck my life.'

You head downstairs to find Cynthhhhia waiting with a shit eating grin on her face once she sees you, giving you a sinister laugh. You roll your eyes.

"Tch. What's got you in such a good mood this morning?" you scoff.

"Larry's been looking for you. You're in trouble," she says with venom in her voice.

Your chest tightens. Oh shit. What could it be? Did you miss your day to clean the dressing rooms? Did Lucifer call and complain about something you did? Were you gonna get fired? You try not to show it on your face, but you do stop walking.

"Why do you say that?" you say, trying to hold an even tone.

Cynthhhhia laughs with a hiss, "Apparently, someone forgot to get a payment from a certain customer last night."

'Fuuuckkkkkk!'

God damn it. You were so focused on taking care of him through his panic attack, then he fell asleep, and you completely forgot to ask for your payment. It also didn't seem appropriate at the time. You could work with this though.

You just laughed and flipped your hair, Cynthhhhia's expression shifted to confusion.

"Ohhhh haha, well ya, I mean that happens sometimes when you just fuck someone so good that they pass out, right? I mean we have all been there," you say giving her a big grin. Cynthhhhia's face changes to her normally prissy annoyance.

"Oh! Have you never had that happen? Oh, well. You'll get there." you smugly walk past her as you pat her on the shoulder. Cythhhhia aggressively shrugs off your touch and hisses as you walk past her. "I'll just go find him now, thanks for the heads up girlypop. Kisses!"

Nailed it. You loved shutting that bitch up, but you always wish it didn't have to come to that. But she wasn't the only one who could play a mean girl, you were just smarter about it. Now to go find Larry and put on a good show for him too.

You put on a panicked look and start to run around the brothel, asking around for Larry. After a few minutes, you find him out in the lobby, chatting with some patrons. You make eye contact with him, give a relieved smile and run to him.

"Darling, there you are! I've been looking all over for you!" you exclaim with your biggest sweetest smile.

"Babydoll! Excuse me fellas, I'll be right back," the pig-man says as he moves past the group of men he was standing with to meet you half way across the room. "What's going on? I didn't see a payment from your customer last night, and that's not like you," he said with concern in his voice, but not like a genuine type of concern. It was the type of concern that you had come to know as 'You better be giving me a good reason as to why I didn't get my money.'

You pouted and tried to look flustered, "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry! I just had such a good time and we got so into such a rough and dirty night of kinky sex that, I accidently fucked him so hard that he passed out! I didn't know what to do, so I just came back home and hoped you would be able to help me figure it out. I'm really sorry for getting so carried away," you finish with a bat of your eyes.

Ugh, you hated your own fake, ditzy, whiny voice, but you knew Larry was a sucker for it, and it normally got you out of some uncomfortable situations. Larry's face morphed into a smile and he let out a boisterous laugh before giving you a pat on the shoulder.

"Aww that's my girl! You know what, he's a first timer. So I'll cut him some slack for today. If he doesn't get me a payment by tomorrow, I'll give him a call, give him a day to recover from the high. Hopefully I won't have to send the Sharks after him!" he gave you a nudge in the ribs and you laughed along with him.

You were thankful that he bought your story, but you hoped that this wasn't going to cause trouble for Lucifer. Larry was friends with some of the Loan Sharks, and sometimes he told stories about the aggressive lengths that they would go to in order to get their money back, or take out the people that didn't pay. But, it wasn't your fault that Lucifer had forgotten to pay. Plus, you did not anticipate how last night was going to go, and you don't normally ask for payments at the beginning of the first meeting, that felt tacky to you.

Luckily, your worries were extinguished a few hours later. After your first few clients of the day. Larry came to find you again with a big grin on his face.

"Well, looks like we didn't need to worry, Mr. 'Lance' night came through with payment and an apology for not remembering to pay last night," Larry boasted with a sharp grin.

You try to hold back your surprise, "Oh? Did he come in to drop it off?"

Larry waved a hand, "Naw, he sent some lackey of his, all snooty and fancy like 'I was sent on behalf of Lance to give you his payment for last night and an apology for not paying after the appointment last night due to being incapacitated. He promises that this will not be an issue with future appointments' blah blah blah" he laughed, dropping the mocking pompous tone he used to mock the "lackey".

You laughed along with him, but internally you were caught up on the last part about "future appointments", was that a paraphrase? Or did the messenger actually say that?

"Ah, so does it some like I've secured a new repeat customer?" you ask, trying not to sound too excited.

"Sounds like it! I asked if he had wanted to schedule for his next appointment, but his lackey didn't seem to know. Said he would probably be in touch at some point. Oh also, here is the tip he left for you," he smirked. Larry slid your tip into your hands and headed off to pester one of the other girls for something.

Your heart fluttered. Lucifer wanted to see you again, possibly, and that made you feel good. You normally didn't care what customers thought of you, but you thought it made sense that this was an exception. This was the King of Hell himself. Who knows how he will want to interact with you this next time around, but you figured you should be prepared for both possibilities of comforting and sexual intimacy. Not something you needed to figure out right at that moment.

You then looked down at the money in your hand, and your eyes went wide at the amount of money in your hands.

Wait, holy shit. What?!

The tipped amount that was in your hands was more than you had ever seen at one time. This was probably the same amount the you would usually get tipped in a week, let alone from one client.

You quickly tucked away the money under your arm and made your way up to your room to hide the money in your safe. You did not trust anyone except Larry knowing how much you would be making in tips from 'Lance' if this was going to be a regular thing. Especially, Cynthhhhia and her hoard of goons.

As you got to your room, closed the door, and started to count through the money, you smiled. He didn't need to tip you this much, you don't know why he did, but it made you feel good. You didn't feel fully comfortable seeing this as confirmation of any sort of building blocks of connection, but it didn't feel like it was a negative sign either.

You didn't hear anything else for a few days, but soon Larry notified you that 'Lance' had called again to meet with you, scheduled for a week after your first meeting at happened. Larry also relayed a message from 'Lance', requesting that he "really liked that thing you did at the end of the night, and would really like more of that if it was possible." You smiled and nodded.

Larry asked what it was you had done at the end of the night, you replied with only a finger up to your lips, a wink, and the statement, "A magician never reveals her secrets."

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