#he just wanted his son to know he was always loved and that he was proud of him

[sidekick-hero]

“You think I should bring some roses to the date?”

Steve looks beautiful in his moss-green button-up, and Eddie wants to scream into a pillow. Not just because he can correctly name the color of Steve’s clothes now, but because the man he’s been crushing on for months is about to go on a date with someone who isn’t him.

And of course, it has to be today. Valentine’s Day.

Steve’s first date since Nancy, his long-time girlfriend, broke up with him. Eddie had wanted to wait before asking him out himself—afraid it was too soon, that Steve was still hurting. That he’d be the rebound at best.

And now, Steve was going out with Spencer. On Valentine’s Day.

God, he hates everything about it. But he loves Steve, more than he’s in love with him. So—

“He’s not going to know what hit him when he sees you, Stevie. You don’t need flowers when he won’t be able to look at anything but you.”

The brilliant, sunshine smile Eddie gets in return is worth the aching in his heart.

“Thanks, Eds. I’d better get going, don’t wanna be late. I’ll see you tomorrow—if everything goes like I planned.” Steve winks, all confidence and charm, and Eddie swallows around the lump in his throat. He’s glad to see Steve like this again. He just wishes it was for him, not some random guy who doesn’t even know that Steve always leaves a tiny sip in all his cups and glasses.

He forces himself to wish Steve fun and good luck. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, he calls Robin.

“Uggghhhhh,” he groans into the phone as soon as she picks up.

Robin, the traitor, laughs. “Get a grip, Bambi. I already told you—man up and tell Steve how you feel. Stop whining at me.”

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re pathetic. Seriously, why can’t you just tell him? You’ve been head-over-heels for him since the day I met you.”

Eddie groans again, rubbing a hand over his face. “Because I love him, Robs. I want him to be happy.”

Robin’s voice softens. “You make him happy, you idiot. You always have. I was really worried about him after Nancy, but you pulled him out of his slump. The first time he smiled again after the breakup? That was because of you.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, because honestly, what’s there to say to that?

Robin sighs. “Just think about it, Eddie. We both love him. We both want him to be happy. I believe you can make that happen. Do you?”

After they hang up, Eddie sits in silence, Robin’s words echoing in his head. We both love him. We both want him to be happy.

Was she right? Could he make Steve happy?

No. No, he can’t. Eddie’s never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. And Steve deserves better. He deserves someone worthy of the wonderful man he is. Someone who loves him loudly, carries him on their hands. Someone who knows Steve hates his birthday because he was always alone on them as a kid. Someone who doesn’t just tolerate his weird habits but loves them, because they make him Steve.

Steve deserves someone who isn’t afraid of commitment. Someone successful and put-together. Not a guy who still lives with two roommates, slings drinks at a bar, and clings to the dream that his band might one day make it.

The beeping of his phone startles him out of his thoughts. He sighs, expecting Robin, but—

It’s Steve.

Spencer’s still not here. You think he stood me up?

Eddie’s entire body tenses. That stupid son of a bitch.

If he did, he’s even stupider than his name. He types while yanking open his closet, grabbing for the one good shirt he owns. You want me to come get you?

The three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.

Fine. That’s fine. It gives Eddie time to throw the shirt on, shove his feet into his boots, and grab his keys.

Finally, Steve’s reply pops up.

No, it’s fine. I’ll wait some more. You know how traffic can be.

Eddie clenches his jaw. He can practically hear Steve making excuses, trying to be understanding. Trying to believe in someone who doesn’t deserve it.

Screw this.

Eddie doesn’t think. He just moves.

Keys in hand, he’s already out the door.

Good thing he knows what fancy restaurant Steve wanted to take his date to. If it were him, he'd take Steve to their favorite Italian restaurant, the one with the handmade pasta and the handmade tiramisu.

Maybe they can still go there.

The second Eddie pushes through the restaurant doors, his eyes land on Steve immediately.

He’s sitting at a small table by the window, drumming his fingers against the stem of his untouched water glass, his lips pressed into a tight line. His date is nowhere to be seen.

Eddie strides over like he should be here—because, honestly? He does.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, dropping into the chair across from Steve like this is their date. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic, you know how it is.”

Steve startles, blinking up at him. “What—Eddie? What are you—?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Eddie lies easily, tossing his keys onto the table. “Figured you were either kidnapped or too nice to walk out on that douchebag, so here I am. Your knight in shining leather.”

Steve huffs a laugh, shaking his head, but there’s something soft in his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you look way too good to be sitting here alone.” Eddie leans back, eyes sweeping over him, exaggerating his admiration. “I mean, damn, Stevie. If I’d known you’d clean up this nice, I would’ve asked you out ages ago.”

He means it as a joke. Mostly. But something shifts in Steve’s expression—his fingers tightening slightly around the glass, his smile faltering just a little.

“…You’re serious.”

Eddie swallows. Shrugs. “I mean… yeah?”

Steve exhales sharply, shaking his head again, but this time, he’s smiling. A real one. One that makes Eddie’s chest feel too tight.

“You’re unbelievable,” Steve mutters, reaching for his jacket. “Come on, if you’re crashing my Valentine’s Day, you’re at least buying me dinner. At our restaurant.”

Eddie grins, hopping to his feet. “Now we’re talking. Babe, you know I’m the cheapest date in town.”

Steve snorts, bumping their shoulders as they head for the door. And yeah, okay—maybe Robin was right.

Because Steve looks happy. And Eddie could get used to that.

[kiwriteswords]

oh oh i have a fluff v day request! maybe reader is jacks teacher and they have a class valentine’s day party, when hotch picks him up after school, jack is trying to set them up by planting one of those silly cartoon cards in either of their pockets 🤭

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match [Aaron Hotchner x Teacher!Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 1k|| AN: Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you for this request, lovely! I had so much fun writing it--I never usually write Jack-related fics, but when I do, I wonder why I don't more often because they're so sweet! ||Requests are still open for Ki2k!!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, Valentine’s Day, non-bau!Reader, teacher!reader, Jack's teacher!Reader, Jack Hotchner is present (for those who do not like kid fics, lol), sadly had to use Y/N Y/L/N :P--sorrry!!!

Summary: Jack comes home beaming about his pretty teacher to Hotch everyday, so when Valentine's comes around, he finds the perfect reason to get the two of them together.

Jack's little feet pounded on the pavement as he bounded towards the car where Hotch was waiting, his face lit up with the day's excitements. Throwing open the car door, he barely waited for the buckle to click before he started.

"Dad! Did I tell you what Miss. Y/L/N did today? She showed us how to make volcanoes with baking soda and vinegar! It was awesome!"

Hotch smiled, driving off as he listened. "Sounds like you had fun. Miss. Y/L/N seems very creative."

"She is!" Jack's voice was earnest, eyes wide. "And she's really pretty, too. She wears these nice dresses, and her hair is always perfect."

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping him. "Is that so?"

"Yeah! And she's super smart. She knows everything about science and books and... um, maybe you should ask her about the Civil War? You like that stuff, right?" Jack's attempt at casualness was comically transparent.

"I do," Hotch replied, his interest piqued both by the mention of history and the subtle undertone of matchmaking in his son's voice. "Sounds like you think she'd be good company."

Jack nodded vigorously. "She'd be the best! You always say you want someone smart and kind. And she's the best teacher ever. Everyone thinks so."

As they pulled into their driveway, Hotch ruffled Jack's hair, considering the little seeds his son was planting. "Maybe I'll have to meet Miss. Y/L/N at the next parent-teacher conference."

"Yeah! And maybe you can ask her about her favorite book or something," Jack added, hopeful.

Hotch laughed softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement at his son's not-so-subtle matchmaking. "Maybe I will, buddy."

Jack grinned, satisfied, his mission for the day accomplished.

The next time Jack came bursting into the car after school, his backpack swinging wildly as he clambered into the passenger seat.

"Dad!" He held up a piece of folded paper, waving it excitedly. "Miss. Y/L/N gave you a note!"

Hotch glanced over as he pulled away from the school parking lot, one hand steady on the wheel. "Oh? What’s it about?"

Jack grinned like he was holding the world's greatest secret. "I think she likes you."

Hotch blinked. "What?"

Jack wiggled in his seat, practically vibrating with excitement. "She sent you a note! Teachers don’t just send notes unless it’s important. And I heard my friend Olivia say that when someone writes you a note, it’s because they like you."

Suppressing a laugh, Hotch reached for the paper at a red light, unfolding it with careful fingers. His eyes skimmed over the words--just a standard, typed letter about an upcoming parent-teacher night and some classroom updates.

"Jack," he said, amusement coloring his voice, "this is just a general note. Every parent got one."

Jack frowned, his enthusiasm faltering for the first time. "Oh." He thought for a second, then brightened again. "But maybe she really wanted you to see it!"

Hotch sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "I’m sure Miss. Y/L/N is a wonderful teacher, but she’s just doing her job. It’s not a secret message, buddy."

Jack crossed his arms, unconvinced. "I don’t know…she does walk me to pick-up.” 

"Because she walks all the students to parent pick-up," Hotch countered. 

Jack sat in contemplative silence for a few moments before mumbling, "Still think you’d be a good couple."

Hotch chuckled. "Noted."

The school hallways were quieter than usual, the loud bustle of daytime replaced by a hushed, anticipatory energy as parents trickled in for the evening's parent-teacher conferences. Hotch adjusted his tie as he approached your classroom, Jack's enthusiastic endorsements echoing in his mind.

He paused at the doorway, spotting you as you animatedly discussed a student's progress with a couple before him. Even from a distance, your passion was palpable, your gestures animated and your smile bright. When it was finally his turn, you looked up, recognition and warmth lighting up your features.

"Mr. Hotchner, it's great to finally meet you," you greeted, extending a hand. "Jack speaks so highly of you."

"The feeling is mutual," Hotch replied, taking your hand. "He hasn’t stopped talking about you since school started."

As you both sat down, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You shared insights about Jack's strengths and areas for improvement, your words thoughtful and encouraging. Hotch was struck not only by your understanding of his son but also by your genuine care for all your students.

"I strive to create an environment where they can all feel supported and challenged," you explained, your eyes lighting up with a fervor that resonated deeply with Hotch. It was clear teaching was not just a job for you but a calling.

The conversation shifted from academic achievements to personal interests, and Hotch found himself discussing topics he rarely explored with strangers. Your interest in classical literature and your hobbies sparked a shared enthusiasm. Hotch was pleasantly surprised by how much he enjoyed talking about his own rare escapes.

which he seldom shared due to his demanding job.

As the meeting concluded, Hotch stood up, feeling an unexpected reluctance to end the conversation. "Thank you for everything you’re doing for Jack," he said sincerely. "And not just for him--for all the kids."

"It’s truly my pleasure," you replied with a smile. "They make it easy."

There was a brief pause, a moment of shared understanding, and an unspoken acknowledgment of a connection neither expected.

"If you ever need help with any class activities or if you organize any field trips," Hotch added on impulse, "I’d be happy to contribute."

Your smile widened, pleased and surprised. "I'll definitely take you up on that."

As Hotch walked away, he couldn’t shake the warmth that filled his chest. Jack might have had childlike motives for wanting him to meet you, but Hotch couldn’t deny the genuine interest he felt--a spark ignited, perhaps, by the passion and beauty you exuded, both inside and out.

The door clicked shut behind Hotch, and the familiar sound of home was a welcome relief after the draining hours of a difficult case. As he shrugged off his coat, the sight that greeted him was anything but the quiet he had expected. 

Jack was in the midst of chaos, surrounded by a whirlwind of craft supplies--glue sticks, construction paper, crayons--all spread out like a tornado had swept through their living room.

Jack had just begun staying home for short periods of time by himself--something Hotch didn’t take lightly, but this was not a sight that he ever expected to see. 

"Jack, what's going on?" Hotch aske, his tone a mixture of amusement and concern as he stepped carefully over a stray roll of tape.

"Dad!" Jack looked up, his expression frantic but determined. "I need to make the perfect Valentine's card, but nothing looks right!"

Hotch knelt down, picking up a half-finished card that was more glue than paper. "Isn’t tomorrow just the school Valentine's party? What about the box of cartoon Valentines we bought last week?"

Jack shook his head vigorously, sending his hair into disarray. "Those are for my classmates! This one has to be special--it’s for Miss. Y/L/N. I want it to be perfect because I want her to come over for dinner and have a romance like in the movies. Like the Disney ones!" His eyes shone with the earnestness only a child could muster. "And you have the right hair to be like Prince Charming!"

Hotch couldn’t help but laugh softly, touched by his son's intentions yet aware of the need to tread carefully. "Jack, it’s very sweet that you want to do this for Miss. Y/L/N, but inviting her over for dinner and trying to set up a romance--that’s something she and I would have to talk about. It's not on you to worry about."

"But Dad, I just want you to be happy, and Miss. Y/L/N could make you smile," Jack protested, his lower lip trembling just a bit.

Sitting down beside his son, Hotch put an arm around him, pulling him close. "I know, buddy, and that means a lot to me. It’s okay to make her a card, but we should keep it about thanking her for being a great teacher, okay? As for dinner, how about we invite her over as a thank you from both of us, just to enjoy a meal, not as a date? We can see where things go from there."

Jack seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, a small smile creeping back onto his face. "Can we still make it the best card ever?"

"Absolutely," Hotch agreed, his heart lightening at his son’s quick recovery. "Let’s see what we can create with less glue this time."

Together, they spent the evening crafting a more modest but heartfelt Valentine's card, Hotch guiding Jack’s enthusiastic efforts. As they worked, Hotch couldn’t help but think about your reaction, the warmth of your smile in his mind giving him more hope than he wanted to admit. 

Maybe Jack’s little plan wasn’t so far-fetched after all, just premature. As they set the finished card aside to dry, Hotch found himself looking forward to handing it over, curious and slightly hopeful about where a simple dinner invitation might lead.

Valentine's Day had brought its usual flurry of excitement, and amidst it, Hotch received an email that made him pause. It was from you, thanking him for the generous card and his contributions to the classroom Valentine's Day party. Reading between the lines, Hotch assumed it was also a nod to the dinner invitation Jack had ambitiously included. Buttoning his coat, he headed to the school, curious and admittedly a bit nervous about the meeting.

As he entered the classroom, the scene was vibrant with kids laughing and trading candies and cards. Jack spotted him immediately and with a grin wide enough to split his face, dashed over and grabbed his hand, tugging him through the clusters of giggling children.

"There’s my dad!" Jack announced proudly, pulling Hotch towards you.

You laughed as Jack nearly yanked Hotch off his feet. "Easy there, Jack, don’t break your dad’s arm off!"

Jack paused, gave Hotch a comically exaggerated wink, and said, "I’ll leave the romance to you two--it is Valentine’s Day, after all!"

You chuckled, shaking your head at Jack's antics. "Hotch, you’ve raised quite the little charmer."

Hotch, a bit flushed but smiling, replied, "I’m not sure where he gets that from. I’m currently at a loss for words.

"That’s alright," you said with a gentle smile. "I don’t mind coming up with the words, as long as that dinner is still on the table."

"It definitely is," Hotch assured you, his tone warm and more confident.

From the corner of his eye, Hotch saw Jack giving a not-so-subtle thumbs up before darting off to join his friends, leaving Hotch and you to chat amidst the joyful chaos of the classroom party.

As the children continued their celebrations around you, the two of you discussed logistics for the dinner, the conversation easy and flowing naturally. It was clear that what started as a child’s innocent matchmaking might just turn into something truly special, much to Jack's delight--and perhaps to his credit.

[ivyues]

Echos of Home: Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O not being close with their parents

Bang Chan

The front door clicks shut, quieter than usual, but it’s enough for Chris to hear from the living room. He frowns, glancing at the time on his phone. You weren’t supposed to be back for another few hours.

“Babe?” His voice carries through the apartment as he stands up, walking toward the entryway. When he sees you, his expression softens, but there’s still a flicker of concern in his eyes. “You’re back early.”

You nod, setting your bag down a little too carefully, like you’re keeping yourself in check. “Yeah. I’m back.”

He studies you for a moment, his head tilting slightly the way it does when he’s trying to piece something together. He knows – has always known – that things with your parents aren’t exactly smooth. There’s no big, dramatic fallout, no abusive history, just a constant, lingering sense of not quite fitting in with them. Conversations that feel like walking through a minefield, small comments that chip away at you, a love that never feels warm enough.

Chris takes a step closer, reaching for your hand. “What happened?”

You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. “Nothing new.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding, patient. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

He just tugs you into his arms, wrapping you up in a hug that is nothing like the ones you get from your parents – half-hearted, obligatory. No, this one is firm, warm, steady. You melt into it before you even realize how much you needed it.

His chin rests atop your head, his voice gentle. “You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, right?”

You close your eyes, exhaling slowly. “I know.”

“And you know that no matter what, you always have a home here with me?”

Your throat tightens, but in a good way. In a way that makes you feel safe. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I know.”

Chris squeezes you a little tighter before swaying side to side, humming softly. You’re home. That’s all that matters.

Lee Know

It wasn’t unusual for you to be at his parent’s house; in fact, it was almost expected at this point. His parents had practically adopted you into their family, treating you like one of their own. His mom always insisted you stay for dinner, and his dad would ask you about school or work like he would his own son. With the cats curling at your side, it felt warm here – comfortable, safe.

That’s why, when Lee Know casually mentioned, “You know, I think you spend more time at my parents’ house than at your own parents’,” with a teasing smile, he didn’t expect the way your body tensed ever so slightly.

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but he caught it.

You let out a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Maybe you're right.”

He didn’t press, not yet, but the thought lingered in his mind. And then, as if the idea had just struck him, he said, “Maybe next time, I should come over to your place. Your parents probably think I don’t exist.”

Your reaction was immediate. A flicker of hesitation crossed your face, and for a moment, you looked like you wanted to say something – anything – but then, you just shrugged. “They’re busy,” you said vaguely. “They wouldn’t really care.”

That didn’t sit right with him. You had always been good at avoiding certain topics, but this one was different. This wasn’t just avoidance – it was reluctance, something deeper.

He tilted his head slightly, his voice softening. “You never really talk about them.”

You forced a smile. “There’s not much to talk about.”

Lee Know didn’t push. He knew you well enough to understand that if he did, you’d only retreat further into yourself. Instead, he nudged your arm lightly. “Well, if they’re too busy, you know that you can come over any time. I start to think that my mom already likes you better than me.”

Changbin

Changbin slumped onto the couch beside you, letting out a dramatic sigh. “When was the last time you even visited your parents?” he joked, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Oh, you know,” you said with heavy sarcasm, “got yelled at for every life decision I’ve ever made. Good times.”

The teasing glint in Changbin’s eyes disappeared in an instant. He frowned, tilting his head to get a better look at your expression, but you avoided his gaze, pretending to scroll through your phone. His heart sank at the forced nonchalance in your voice.

“Wait… what do you mean?” His voice softened, laced with concern.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “You know how they are. Nothing I do is ever right. I could be a literal millionaire and they’d still find a way to tell me I messed up.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “It’s just how it is.”

Changbin didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. “That’s not how it should be, though,” he murmured. “You deserve better than that.”

You blinked at his sincerity, feeling a lump form in your throat. “It’s fine, Bin. I’m used to it.”

He sighed, shifting closer so your shoulders touched. “That doesn’t make it okay,” he countered, his brows knitting together in frustration. 

You hesitated for a moment before speaking again, voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes, I wonder if I could ever be a good mom,” you admitted. “like… I never really got to experience what having a good mom feels like. What if I mess up the way they did?”

Changbin’s eyes softened, and he gently cupped your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Hey,” he said firmly. “You are already so full of love and care. The fact that you worry about that proves you’re going to be amazing. You won’t be like them. You get to choose the kind of parent you want to be.”

Your heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through your chest. You had always carried the weight of your strained relationship with your parents alone.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I know.”

Hyunjin

Hyunjin had never been one to push too hard when it came to personal matters. He understood boundaries, respected them even. But every time the topic of parents came up – his or yours – you always managed to steer the conversation elsewhere. And most importantly, you had never once mentioned introducing him to them.

At first, he brushed it off, thinking you were just taking things slow. But after nearly a year together, it stung. It made him wonder if there was a reason, a reason that had everything to do with him.

That thought festered in his chest until one evening, it finally slipped out.

“Do you not want me to meet your parents?” His voice was soft, uncertain.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I mean… we’ve been together for a while now, but you never bring it up.” He forced a small chuckle, trying to keep his tone light even though it felt anything but. “I just… I guess I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of me.”

Your heart sank at the vulnerability in his voice. “Hyunjin—”

“Is it because I’m an idol?” He cut in before you could explain. “I know that might be weird for some parents, and if that’s the case, I get it. But I just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his hair. “I don’t know. It feels like you don’t want to include me in that part of your life.”

You swallowed hard, guilt settling in.

“Hyunjin, it’s not that I don’t want you to meet them,” you said carefully, fingers gripping the fabric of your sleeves. “It’s just… my relationship with my parents isn’t great. It’s complicated.”

His eyes searched yours, confusion flickering across his face. “Complicated how?”

You hesitated. “We don’t really… talk much. When we do, it’s tense. We just don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

Hyunjin’s expression softened slightly. “Then why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“Because I didn’t want to talk about it,” you admitted. “It’s messy and frustrating, and I didn’t want to drag you into that.”

“But I want to be dragged into it,” he said, leaning forward. “I want to understand what’s going on in your life. That includes the bad parts, too.”

You looked away, the weight of his words settling in. “I guess… I was embarrassed.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed. “Embarrassed?”

“I don’t have the kind of parents who are loving and supportive,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “And I didn’t want you to see that and think less of me.”

“Y/N, I would never think less of you because of something like that.” He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “I just wanted to understand. I thought… I thought you didn’t want me to meet them because of me.”

You exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

Hyunjin shook his head, lips pressing into a thin line before he let out a breath. “I just want you to trust me enough to talk to me about these things.”

“I do,” you said quickly. “I just… I didn’t know how.”

Han

"So you don’t want me to meet your parents?" Han repeated, his voice softer than you expected. Not quite hurt or offended – just… concerned.

You swallowed hard, nodding. "It’s not that I don’t want you to. I just— I don’t think it’s a good idea."

He tilted his head, studying you. "Can you tell me why?"

You hesitated. Han had always been so good at making you feel safe, but there was still a deep-rooted instinct inside you that told you to keep this part of your life locked away. It wasn’t that your parents were abusive, not in the way people might think, but they had never really seen you. Not truly. Their love came with conditions, with expectations you could never quite meet.

"I just… I don’t want to put you in a situation where you're not treated well," you admitted, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "They don’t respect me, Han. And since you’re with me, they won’t respect you either. I don’t want that for you."

"I get it," he said quietly, his voice steady. "And I love that you’re thinking about me. But, baby… you don’t have to protect me from them."

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head before you could.

"I’m not saying we have to go to a family dinner or anything," he continued. "But you don’t have to carry this alone. I know it’s complicated, and I know it sucks. But I don’t want you to think that you have to shield me from this part of your life just because you’ve been dealing with it alone for so long."

Your throat tightened. "But they’ll—"

"They can think whatever they want about me," he interrupted gently. "What matters is what you think. And if they don’t respect you, that’s on them. That’s not a reflection of who you are, and it’s definitely not going to change how I see you."

You exhaled shakily. "I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to let you meet them. I've spent too much time hoping they'll change."

Han smiled, squeezing your hands reassuringly. "That’s okay. We’ll take it at your pace. Just… don’t shut me out, okay? I want to be here for you. For everything."

Felix

Felix stretched his arms, groaning slightly as he leaned back against the couch. The two of you had been catching up on life the whole evening. He had just been telling you about his latest video call with his parents, laughing about how his mom still worried if he was eating enough.

"Honestly," he said between bites of the cookies he had brought over, "I think I see my parents more often than you see yours."

You froze, your fingers tightening around the mug of tea you were holding. The playful lilt in his voice made it clear that he hadn’t meant any harm, but the words hit you harder than you expected. Your mind ran through the last time you had actually visited your parents.

Felix must have noticed your sudden stillness, because when you looked up at him, his brows were slightly furrowed, eyes searching yours. 

"You’re not wrong," you admitted quietly, sipping your tea to avoid his gaze. "I think you really do."

"Oh. I— I didn’t mean to... I was just joking."

"I know," offering him a small smile. "It’s just… true."

A beat of silence stretched between you. Felix set his cookie down, shifting closer until his knee bumped against yours. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you never talked about your parents, but it always felt exhausting to explain the complicated mess that was your relationship with them. They weren’t cruel or absent, just distant – close enough to be in your life, but never truly present.

"Not much to say, really," you murmured. "We just don’t talk much. It’s always… weird. Like we don’t know how to be around each other."

Felix listened, nodding. "That sounds really lonely."

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the simple truth in his words. "Yeah," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "It kinda is."

Felix didn’t say anything at first. "You know," he said, voice warm and sure, "family doesn’t have to be just the people you’re born with."

Your chest tightened, not with sadness, but with something gentler.

Felix grinned, before nudging you playfully. "Well, for what it’s worth, my parents love adopting people into the family. You might already be part of it without knowing."

Seungmin

The living room was quiet except for the occasional tapping of Seungmin’s phone as he scrolled, stretched out comfortably on your couch. You sat beside him, your head resting against the couch cushion, feeling the warmth of his presence next to you. 

Then, your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Mom flashed across the screen.

Seungmin glanced at it briefly before looking at you, expecting you to reach for it. But instead, you pressed decline without a second thought.

He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. "You’re not gonna answer?"

You shrugged. "Nope."

He sat up a little, setting his phone down. "Why not? It could be important."

"Unlikely," you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

The confusion on his face lingered for a moment before realization set in. "You don’t really talk to her much, do you?"

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Not if I can help it."

Seungmin didn’t respond right away, just watched you carefully. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "You guys don’t get along?"

"Not really," you admitted. "We just... don’t see things the same way. Talking always turns into a disagreement, and honestly, it’s exhausting. It’s easier to just not deal with it."

Seungmin hummed, a quiet sound of understanding. 

For a moment, he just sat there, thinking. Then, without warning, he leaned over and lightly nudged your shoulder with his own. "You don’t have to pretend you’re fine."

You glanced at him, surprised by how easily he saw through you.

He tilted his head, his expression unreadable yet undeniably gentle. "You’re allowed to be upset about it. You don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you."

Something in your chest loosened. You hadn’t even realized how much tension you’d been carrying until now.

"Thanks," you murmured.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Anytime." 

I.N

You sighed as you scrolled through your messages, the same feeling of disappointment creeping in. Your parents had sent another message in the family group chat – one of their usual updates about your sibling, filled with admiration and excitement. You were happy for them, truly. But every time you saw their name being praised while yours was barely acknowledged, the ache in your chest deepened.

I.N sat beside you on the couch, watching your face shift from neutral to something more distant. He nudged your arm gently. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You hesitated before tilting your phone toward him. He skimmed the messages, his features tightening as he put the pieces together. He already knew the story – how your relationship with your parents had grown distant ever since you chose a different path, how they seemed to relate more to your sibling, leaving you feeling like an outsider in your own family. He also knew you weren’t looking for pity.

Instead of offering empty words, I.N put your phone aside. “Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “A little,” you admitted. “I mean, I moved out as soon as I could, and I’ve been independent for a while, so I shouldn’t care so much. But… it’s like no matter what I do, I’m not enough for them.”

I.N frowned. “That’s not true. You are enough. They just… don’t see you the way they should, and that’s on them, not you.”

You looked at him, feeling a flicker of warmth in his gaze. He wasn’t trying to fix it. He wasn’t telling you to move on or pretend it didn’t matter. 

“You’ve built a life for yourself that you love, haven’t you?” he continued. “That takes courage. And just because they don’t recognize it doesn’t make it any less real.”

A small, wobbly smile broke through your somber expression.

I.N grinned, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “I just know you. And I know that you deserve to be seen, to be valued. Even if they don’t show it, I will.”

You exhaled, leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Innie.”

masterlist

[ladyrosemone]

The Other Side Of Paradise

Using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ This is an intermediate of part one, as the Batfamily's point of view just like you had yours, official part two coming soon! Also my question box is open (I think) and without further ado, enjoy the read! (Thanks for enjoying the read 😭🫶🏼)

Tw!: Profanity (use of prostitute as a derogatory insult), murder, murder scene described, negligence.

Tag List: @tsuniio, @simpingpandas, @dakotali, @softycheol.

Dick is always first.

The first child acrobat of the circus, the first son of Bruce Wayne, the first Robin, the first brother, the first everything.

And he was proud of that, from being an orphan to the pride of Gotham it was not an easy path and much less a happy one, but amidst so much pain and loss he is grateful for having a constant; his family.

Dysfunctional and somewhat shaky, where violence and beatings are the language of love, they find comfort in knowing that they have each other.

He has Alfred as his honorary grandfather, who is the wisest person he will ever meet again.

Bruce, who even with his flaws is his father, who gave him a chance and never abandoned him, making him the man he is today.

Jason, the most distant but beloved of his brothers, knows that he can always count on him and his strength at all times.

Tim, his chair boy, his best confidant, and the best detective in the world, trusts him with his life over anything he can't find.

And Damian, his little brother, his favorite boy in the whole world, the Robin to his Batman, what he wouldn't do for his sharp-tongued brother; even when he came to the mansion threatening and stabbing everything, never gave up on him and the result was completely worth it.

His sisters are also dear to him; Stephenie and Cassandra are strong and independent, but also loyal and loving. Barbara may not be a sister -she still has her father- but she has earned a place in the family and is considered sister as much as Steph and Cass.

Of course he will never leave Duke behind, the newest, the ray of sunshine among them all, he expects great things from him.

Dick is always first.

Dick is the last one to remember you.

Jason hates remembering his life before the well.

He doesn't want to forget, there are memories that still keep him sane; his mother, when Bruce adopted him, his first patrol as Robin. You.

But if it were up to him, he would never talk about them again or even acknowledge their existence. They are chains that bind him, quicksand that make him sink whenever he tries to move forward and personally he is fed up.

Because no matter how many villains he catch and how many more kill, how many people save, nothing will take away the guilt of not having saved that person. Don't save you.

Of not finding the strength in himself to look for you now, because for you, there is nothing but shame and shame for himself. The first friend he had, the first brother he had, his first great loss, his only great regret.

Jason hates remembering his life before the well.

Jason hates being the first to discover your new identity.

Tim is a genius.

Genius falls short, his brain works like a computer within a computer within another; Wires instead of neural conduits and electricity instead of energy is what happens in that brilliant brain of yours.

He was never an ordinary person, he is ambitious and resourceful, intelligent and determined to get what he wants.

That started with the mantle of Robin.

When Jason was still in the portrait, he wanted to be part of the duo; He trained and prepared, ready to help from the Batcave until the Joker thing happened. And even when it felt bad to carry the title of the bat's henchman, he felt proud that his perseverance took him to the top.

And it was the beginning of his destiny.

Robin, Red Robin, the robin's mantle is and will be a part of him that he will never let go, but he is also the one who remembers every detail of every case of every villain of every attack in Gotham, is the one they turn to when they need to confirm exact information. Nothing escapes him, ever.

Tim is a genius.

Tim passed you by and lost.

Damian is the perfect heir.

His father is the most powerful man in Gotham and Batman himself, his mother is a skilled and lethal assassin, daughter of a dynasty of the world's fiercest assassins, and he is the result of the cross between the two.

He is perfect.

That is why he will never deign to look down on the unworthy; Richard is fine, Jason is worthy because served his mother and grandfather, Tim still doubts it, women are strong allies and that new boy has potential. Alfred and his father, of course, are worthy of his obedience.

And you? You are worse than a disappointment.

A stain, a mistake, someone who should never have existed, rotting his perfect legacy, you should be thankful he didn't kill you when he had the chance.

It's not that you deserve it, you don't deserve anything from it.

You are so insignificant to him that not even in his dreams did he worry about your whereabouts, of course he knew that you were no longer there, he had to watch you in case you stole something when you left like the thieving prostitute who was probably your mother, but when you did not return, he felt triumphant for having taken care of -without killing- the family problem.

Damian is the perfect heir.

Damian feels like his throne means nothing in front of you.

Bruce is a father.

He never considered himself one, maybe he wanted it once, when his own father was alive to learn from him, but that dream died when his people did it in the alley.

Despite everything, he tried to be a father to Dick, and his efforts, although questionable, worked. Then Jason with his bright eyes and bubbly personality, taken away too soon, let go too soon.

Even now, so near and so far, it is his greatest loss as Batman, as Bruce Wayne.

Tim was...complicated; arrived when he had not overcome his grief and treated him in the most atrocious way he had ever imagined treating his children. Still, he proved to him time and time again that was more than expected.

Damian was unexpected of an unexpected union; son of Talia Al'Ghul and grandson of Ra's Al'Ghul, he awaited a bloodthirsty and indomitable child. Which started badly ended well, his youngest son is on his way to writing his destiny far from his ancestry, and in his heart knows that did the best he could.

Barbara, although not their daughter, is part of their family, Stephenie and Cassandra are their beloved daughters, and Duke is officially their new son.

Bruce is a father.

Bruce is not your father.

Do others really have a voice in this narrative? You barely remember them, you barely knew them, much less you care about them. Yes, even Alfred.

"I don't understand, there's nothing more" Tim murmurs, looking at the images on the Batcomputer, reading the documents at the same time, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers trembling from the coffee laced with an energy drink that just drank "There must be more"

"You searched enough, you should get some sleep" Barbara intervenes, in her wheelchair "I'll cover you"

"No, there's something I'm overlooking" he insists "I know, I just have to look carefully"

"Tell me it's not that thing again" Jason complains, arriving at the Batcave with his Red Hood suit on, barely removing his helmet.

Dick nods, his usual smile not drawing his face, just a grimace "We're close to finding it, just...something's missing"

The image is clear; a party room, with people dancing and laughing, as precise as a painting but recent that appeared in the newspaper. All of these people are families of dangerous underworld groups.

Lords of drugs, weapons and human trafficking, ex-convicts and people who work for villains are...enjoying the party.

It wouldn't be relevant if it weren't the photo before the tragedy.

⚠️ Description of crime scene, bodies and blood under the cut ⚠️

All of them, women and men, young and old, nothing more than a combined mass of blood and bones, guts scattered on the walls and decorations of the room.

The floor, the stairs, everything contaminated, women's bodies -which were getting smaller, then only limbs such as arms, hands and finally, fingers- arranged on the main staircase. They all point to something;

⚠️End of scene⚠️

A painting.

In the two photos, the painting of a house is what steals the attention; nothing special, nothing grand, just a painting of a gray wooden cave house, with the background of a distant city and without a signature, almost overlooked as another photo if it weren't for the canvases and the paint under his fingers when he touched it.

In both photos the painting is at the top of the stairs, in both the light was shining on them and in both it draws attention before anything else.

Why? What does it mean? What does it tell them?

"There must be something more than that, hidden among the corpses" says Damian, the most obsessed -besides Tim- in discovering the identity of the one who, for months, has left them clues after helping them anonymously, only a pseudonym in your name; The Savior.

Or that is how those who bring your messages to them have referred to you, speaking of you as a Saint, a savior among men, God himself who came down to protect them.

And they can't let that continue.

They must know if you are dangerous, if you are a potential threat or potential ally. They must discover you.

Alfred arrives with more coffee, because he knows his words won't be heard at that point; When the family becomes obsessed with something, they hardly let it go until they get their fill of it.

His eyes pursue that house; small and misaligned, painted in a very specific way, too specific.

Jason doesn't like to remember the past.

"Wasn't there a phantom surcharge on the accounts months ago?" He says in a low voice, almost lost if the echo of the cave had not returned the word to him.

"There are many like that" Tim murmurs without thinking about the matter "Hey-!"

Jason pushes him aside, typing furiously and searching through files, searching and searching remembering remembering until...A contract, simple and almost empty, with a late date and an unknown signature, the name blank but with an address and a photo; the photo of the painting.

The house.

"How did you...?" Tim was surprised, looking at that contract as if he had never looked at it before, reading carefully, sleep and fatigue fleeing his body.

Bruce looks on without speaking, but those who know him know that a war of insecurities is raging inside him; How did it happen? Who was it? When did do it? Has access to all he private accounts? Do has know their identities?

The clue has been revealed, the answer discovered, and the game is just beginning.

"I think it's time to arrange the pawns on the chess board" you say in your luxury suit, the highest in the tallest building in Gotham, looking at the flashing lights that fill the streets, looking at the outskirts of Gotham, looking at your next move, looking at the wide-screen camera that's embedded in the painting's window.

[writeriguess]

Having a super hard time right now so could you do a single dad kirishma or bakugo or shinsou and they’re struggling trying to juggle parenthood and being a pro then they meet y/n she’s new to their agency and she just so happens to catch their eye, just a simple receptionist but she has so many ideas. They’re so busy that they don’t even get the chance to actually meet her until one day she comes up to their office with an idea for a daycare in the agency since she’s getting so many call outs about people who don’t have child care. She offers to run/teach the daycare as well since she was a teacher back in the states before she moved and it turns out this is the key to their own problems and they slowly fall in love with her.

author's note: Hey, I just wanted to clarify something. I’ve noticed that “comfort fics” sometimes get published quickly after being requested, which might give the impression that I prioritize them. However, that’s not the case—every fic is written and published in the order it was requested.

If you requested this piece, you might have noticed that I didn’t publish it immediately after seeing it. Please know that I don’t rush requests out of order. The only time I made an exception was for an emergency request, but I now realize that was a mistake, as some people overlooked my author’s note explaining it was a one-time thing. I’m sorry for any confusion, and I appreciate your patience!

Safe in Your Hands

The constant buzzing of his phone was a persistent, grating reminder that life didn’t slow down for anyone. Not even for Katsuki Bakugo.

“Goddamnit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples as he read yet another text from the daycare. His son, Ryo, had caught a cold and needed to be picked up early—again. He wasn’t mad at the kid, never at him, but the frustration of trying to juggle being a top pro hero and a single father was wearing him thin.

His office was a mess of paperwork, mission reports, and unfinished emails. He was barely keeping his head above water, and his agency, while thriving, was in dire need of some structure. Or a miracle.

That’s when a soft knock at his door pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Come in,” he grumbled, expecting another stack of files or another meeting he didn’t have time for.

Instead, you stepped in.

“Good afternoon, Dynamight-san.”

He barely looked up at first, recognizing you as the new receptionist. You’d been here a couple of months, always polite, always handling things smoothly. He’d noticed, even if he never had the time to actually speak to you. You were a quiet force in the chaos, managing things from behind the front desk with a calm confidence.

“I, uh, hope I’m not interrupting,” you said, shifting slightly but holding your ground. “I have an idea I wanted to run by you.”

His gaze flickered up then, curiosity outweighing his exhaustion. “What kinda idea?”

You stepped forward, placing a neatly written proposal on his desk. “I’ve been getting a lot of call-outs from employees who are struggling with childcare. And I’ve noticed you’ve had to step out unexpectedly for similar reasons. I was a teacher back in the States before moving here, and I was thinking… what if we had an in-agency daycare?”

He blinked, stunned into silence for the first time in what felt like months.

“I’d be willing to help set it up, even run it,” you continued, your voice steady. “It’d give the staff some peace of mind, knowing their kids are safe while they work. And it might make things easier for you, too.”

He stared at you for a long moment, your words sinking in. No one had ever suggested something like this before. No one had ever looked at the chaos of his life and offered a solution so simple yet perfect.

“Tch,” he finally scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re serious about this?”

You nodded. “Completely.”

And just like that, something in his chest loosened.

Maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t doing this alone anymore.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Once Bakugo approved the daycare idea, you got straight to work. There were meetings to hold, rooms to convert, supplies to order, and staff to hire. Despite the long hours, you found yourself energized by the project. The employees were thrilled with the idea, and as word spread through the agency, more and more heroes began stopping by to offer assistance.

Bakugo was still a little wary, though. He wasn’t the type to trust easily, but he couldn’t deny that things were starting to feel a little less overwhelming.

One evening, as you were reviewing the final details before the daycare’s official opening, Bakugo showed up at the converted space. You looked up from your clipboard, surprised to see him standing in the doorway with Ryo in his arms. The little boy, looking sleepy and snuggled into his father’s shoulder, blinked at you drowsily.

“Figured we should do a test run,” Bakugo muttered, stepping inside. “See how the brat likes it.”

You smiled warmly. “Of course. Come on in.”

Setting Ryo down gently, Bakugo watched as the toddler hesitantly explored the room. His tiny hands ran over the soft mats, and he eyed the shelves of toys with curiosity. Slowly, he toddled toward a plush All Might figure, giving it an experimental squeeze.

You crouched down next to him. “You like that one, Ryo?”

The boy looked up at you, then at his father, before nodding shyly.

Bakugo exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Looks like it’s a hit.”

You grinned. “I think so.”

For the first time since you’d met him, you saw the tension in Bakugo’s shoulders ease slightly. Maybe this really was the answer to the problem he hadn’t been able to solve alone.

As the weeks went by, the daycare became an integral part of the agency. Parents were relieved, the kids were happy, and Bakugo—though he’d never say it outright—was grateful beyond words.

You and Bakugo started seeing more of each other, too. At first, it was just in passing—quick meetings to discuss logistics, brief encounters when he dropped Ryo off. But then, it turned into coffee breaks, conversations that stretched a little longer each day, small moments of laughter that neither of you had expected.

One evening, after a particularly long shift, Bakugo stopped by your office. You looked up, surprised to see him lingering in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said gruffly.

“Hey,” you replied, setting your pen down. “Everything okay?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah. Just… wanted to say thanks. For everything.”

A warm feeling spread through your chest. “You don’t have to thank me, Bakugo. I’m happy to help.”

His gaze softened, just a little. “Still. You’ve made shit easier for me. And for Ryo.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m glad. He’s a great kid.”

A rare smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah, he is.”

Silence settled between you, comfortable and warm. And in that moment, you both knew—this was just the beginning.

As months passed, your presence in Bakugo’s life became more than just professional. He found himself looking forward to seeing you every day, whether it was during a hectic morning drop-off or a quiet evening chat after work. Ryo adored you, always running to you with excitement when he saw you at the daycare.

One night, after a late shift, you were locking up when Bakugo showed up with Ryo asleep in his arms. He was exhausted, but there was something softer in his expression than usual.

“Wanna grab a late dinner?” he asked, almost shyly.

You blinked in surprise before smiling. “I’d love to.”

And just like that, everything changed. The weight on Bakugo’s shoulders didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because for the first time in years, he wasn’t carrying it alone.

[zeropro]

So I’ve seen you draw and tag a couple of different ships, just wondering which are your favorite???

Love your art btw :D

Thank you!

I don’t have a specific ship i'm particularly loyal to, so I guess I’ll rate them and also provide my own headcanons:

(disclaimer i dont know ship names so imma just try my best)

Trine-shipping: yes, put the three of them together, I don’t care. familial, sexual, romantic, platonic, its all good. I go crazy seeing them stand next to each other in the cartoon what do you want from me.

thunderwarp: I see this one a lot and I quite like it. these two being mates with starscream doing his own thing kinda makes sense considering starscream has a bunch of other ships. also makes it fun when something happens to one of them and starscream is left in the awkward position of having to deal with that.

thunderstar: been thinking about this one more lately. they’re like foils to each other. thundercracker’s a good boy to starscream’s bad boy, and he does such a concern about all the morally dubious stuff starscream gets up to. but at the same time, he admires starscream’s ambition and rizz and starscream the kinda bot that would pull you so high if you followed him. I think out of anyone, starscream is the closest to actually trusting thundercracker. 

starwarp: i had this thought one time of what if skywarp is like the horniest asexual and starscream is the most traumatized aromantic, and how would that even work XD nothing solid in the works just an idea that I had. ive seen these two less often outside of trine shipping but it can be pretty hot. I like when they are being protective of each other. I always see skywarp as more emotionally open than his trinemates and starscream can use some of that open and honest emotional love and care. someone to forcfully make him accept being loved. someone who will actually push back when he’s being stupid. and with skywarp being loyal to megatron, so much angst potential for both of them.

starbee: im a sucker for the whole ghost bee starscream dynamic. I already made a post about these two, and after all this time I still really enjoy this ship. I think characters that don’t actually like each other at first but grow into a mutual respect is so tasty. I think some people don’t like the ship because they headcanon bee as too young? well, starscream is actually younger in my fic lmao, but also they’re like 6 million years old and are born with full adult processing capabilities, I don’t think age matters here :P its less about intimacy for me anyway. I like them together because of how much it takes to get there. 

starwavewave: okay this one is 100% fueled by tfone but guyssss guysss theyre married and megatron is their son and im just aaaagh dont seperate them! such a kookie dynamic, the cool headed soundwave, the emotionally volatile shockwave, the arrogant yet cowardly starscream, all being fail dads to their little scamp leader. hahaha. high command polycule 

megastar: gasp, rated above skystar. yes, I just find this dynamic more interesting. I like an abusive ship sometimes for the angst but I also enjoy seeing megatron when he isnt abusive? kinda catharsis maybe. I read a fic once where the war is over and starscream invites megatron to one of optimus’ high profile parties and is appalled at megatron showing up in robot equivalent of underdressed, meanwhile megatron the working class miner is like “I washed, what else was I supposed to do” XD and I just love that haha. theres just so many ways to take it. I wont be doing any megastar in my au, I just tag anything that has megatron and starscream interacting with megastar cuz thats the dynamic to me

skystar/jetstar: iddkkkkk i know this is the most popular ship but it’s just!! idk! its not as interesting to me haha. I love this as a past ship, they were roommates in college, starscream opened himself to someone, chose to become close and then was hurt by it. just another wound on starscream’s spark before he ever even meets megatron. I don’t think theyd get back together after the ice. idk how well I can write this so I’ll just explain how it happens in my au here: skyfire died and starscream created this version of skyfire in his mind that was perfect, he memorialised him because he was dead! you just cant live up to how someone remembers you. I think that was part of the reason why starscream reacts so badly when skyfire “betrayed” him. unlike thundercracker, skyfire knows how to set healthy boundaries. not to mention he’d been on ice for four million years, lost his entire life, everyone he knows, and his entire civilisation, planet, and culture to a war he had no part in. bot’s gonna be upset. pissed off even. skyfire shouldnt have to be some soft sparked punching bag for starscream, he’s kind and a pacifist but he’s also going to get upset and have feelings. I think starscream’s betrayal would hit pretty hard, he’d gonna be upset about how much starscream’s changed, how much damage starscream helped cause during the war, and also starscream shooting him in the back for wanting to protect the native wildlife! when they properly talk to each other again it’s going to be heated on both sides, and I think after some hard work from both sides they could end up in a place where they are willing to be friends again, but I don’t think they’d conjunx. skystar isnt end game to me, but it is canon and an important part of the story

starop: I think ive read one fic where I really liked this ship. it’s just such a random pairing. my initial reaction is just noooo optimus prime?? but that guy’s everyone’s dad! Ive been told a big part of it is they’re both megatron’s ex’s and that’s pretty funny. not for me sadly haha (opxmegatronoldmanyaoiotpfrfr)

starjack…wheelstar? whatever the starscream and wheeljack one is. I’m not into this one. I see where people are coming from with it, but wheeljack isnt an interesting character to me. they can be science bros tho

starscream and windblade: ive seen this like once or twice. not for me. windblade is like, starscream’s daughter or something idk XD 

soundstar: uuuh i dont see it. sorry! i legit have no thoughts on soundstar. theyre coworkers XD. ive seen fics where the seekers are really young and soundwave moms them, and that’s really cute. okay, I like soundwave as a caretaker if the seekers are young, but yeah I don’t think I understand this one. 

shockstar: nooooooo. tho ironically theres more canon content there to fuel this one than soundstar (is this emotion?) but still no XD I don’t even hate shockwave! let him be sunstorm’s dad, that’s cute. but no, shockewave too creepy. no ship. they are also coworkers

what other ship is there even? oh yeah

starprowl: this is apparently a really popular ship?! I guess in a way prowl is sort of like the autobot’s starscream, undermining his leader, arrogant, willing to do the dubious play. they’re both ruthless. I like this one better than starjacked, but its still an odd pairing to me.

oh! knockout and starscream, i can kinda see it? like, as a rebound after breakdown? I like knock out and breakdown, so I’d only see these two as like friends or if something happened to breakdown. they’re a LOT of fun when they interact tho heh heh, perfectly clashing personalities

on the topic of tfp, I guess starscream and arcee is a ship? I can see this similar to my enjoyment of starbee, they’d have to work reeaally hard for this one to work but they have had potentially positive interactions in the show (before starscream screws it up) so its possible in a better world where starscream doesnt suck they could become friends. him killing cliffjumper is gonna be a huge hurdle tho! 

dont talk to me about airachnid

do people ship starscream and ratchet? I don’t ship it, but I do really like interactions between them. starscream is so terrible but he also gets hurt a lot. ratchet is grumpy and prejudice but he’s the best doctor and he’ll fix him up! I like when something terrible happens to starscream and ratchet cant help but feel bad for the guy. that’s the good stuff.

lastly i have been asked a few times on trinebee. im assuming this is bumblebee and the trine. i hadnt thought about it but it makes sense! if youre a starbee shipper, but you also support trine propaganda, then it only makes sense to bring bee into the trine. also bee and thundercracker are friends! the only ones who havent really had any interaction is bee and warp, and honestly idk if I see those two getting along but bumblebee is everybody’s friend so XD I’m sure it’ll work out!

and i think those are all the thoughts i have on the ships! 

no hate on anyone who ships any of these!!! you all do what you do, these are just my opinions, and honestly I’m just not a huge shipper to begin with haha. I am…unsure if there will be any shipping content in my au, I write my scenarios very much “canon but to the left” and so it comes out very sex-less because romance and intimacy is just not the type of content I’m in the business of writing. but, idk, i think about it sometimes. sometimes I think about the end of chapter one of thundercracker’s origin, the night starscream took thundercracker out on a not-date. i think, who knows, in some version of the story maybe they shared a kiss? maybe they went back to the apartment and things went further? maybe. but of course, in every version of the story, starscream is gone the next morning. 

happy valentrine’s day!

[chrollohearttags]

nobody knows • portgas d. ace

another drabble for sneaky link/ex boyfriend ace bc I have one functioning brain cell and all of it is focused on him atm teehee 🤭

wc: 1.8K

more infidelity (y’all both still AIN’T SHIT 😭 reader got that dog in her I’m sorry), straight porn, modern au, black fem reader, phone sex/sexting, squirting, oral sex, calls reader bitch, a eating + anal, recording, backshots, rough sex, heavy breeding, idk what else will come out

he’s so ooc in this and I don’t give a fuck (I’m ovulating and stressed w life + therapy is too expensive)

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nobody knows why you and ex-boyfriend!ace broke up in the first place. Honestly, it seemed like such a waste…three long years down the drain with nothing to show for it but the two of you left in shambles. Friends and family consoling you both as you learned to navigate life without one another. (Y/N), moving on fairly quickly with the son of one of your dad’s friends..a byproduct of military nepotism and the very antithesis to what Ace was. A stiff working a cushy desk job and reaping the benefits..pushing papers and always playing it safe. He was very kind, sweet and damn near ideal in every sense of the word. Not too much of a drinker, a partygoer or anything of the sort but he always took you on dates. All of your girlfriends liked him well enough, thinking that he more matched your speed than the thrill seeking, goofy, chaotic daredevil that was ex-boyfriend!ace. Who rode motorcycles and climbed mountains in his spare time, when he wasn’t holding life by the tips of his fingers as an EMT. Covered in tattoos, he looked like such a quintessential, stereotypical ‘bad boy’… “God, (y/n). I don’t know what you ever saw in that guy. He’s a loser, through and through.”

However, what nobody knows..is that you never truly left him alone! He was your ideal match and you couldn’t shake it. You could actually laugh, joke and make mistakes with him. There was no need for faux perfection and lies. You saw each other for who you really were.

Nobody knows that while you’re at work, he’s constantly sending you filthy messages to get you aroused and worked up. Making you chew your lip and the tip of your pen as you twirl in your chair..reading how he’s going to make sure you feel it in your stomach the next time you two link. Nobody knows he shamelessly sends you nut videos, uttering your name with the sexiest moans. Nobody knows that when you tell your assistant that the hour where you refuse any meetings is designated for you to choke on ex-boyfriend!ace’s cock in your cute little business attire..loving the way those glasses hang off the tip of your nose as he pushes your forehead to his pelvis.

“Goddamn, babe..I knew I couldn’t quit you..you’re eating my dick up so good.”

“It’d taste even better if you let me come on it first.”

loving that you were willing to abandon all of your morals for him so easily. Nobody knows about the second phone you keep stashed away in your glovebox just to call him late at night when your new man is sleeping or working overnight and you want some company..

“Can you please come over? I miss you..he won’t be back tonight. I promise.”

“Of course, baby. Anything for you..I’ll always come running when you tell me.”

or in need of a good orgasm because that dummy couldn’t give you one if you handed him a roadmap to the clit! With ex-boyfriend!ace on the other line talking you through it with that deep voice and lewd commands.

“Oh my gosh, pretty girl. Did you call me just so you could touch yourself to the sound of my voice? You’re so cute..” making you FaceTime him because he wants to see the mess he helped create.

nobody knows that whilst you're out at dinner with your new man, alongside loved ones as he boasts about how he knows you’re the one and how you guys make such a lovely couple, (y/n) is daydreaming about ex-boyfriend!ace riding you on the back of his Suzuki through the city, knowing the rush gets you turned on. That rather than dealing with an insecure little boy who felt intimidated by your looks and success, ex-boyfriend!ace would go drinking and partying with you, loving when you showed off your body because he wasn't worried about another man taking what was his. Nobody knows that you have a small tattoo of ex-boyfriend!ace’s name right above your private area. Hell, it's not as if your new man touched you enough to notice and when he did, the lights remained off.

When your girlfriends are divulging the dirt about their relationships and how envious they are of you. Claiming that you hit the jackpot with such a structured, well mannered guy who works a high paying job and always comes home to you. But what nobody knows…is that he could never replace the man you truly love. So much so, when you kiss him on the cheek that Friday evening before heading to the ‘airport’ for another business trip..you’re secretly meeting ex-boyfriend!ace in the top floor suite at a luxury hotel hours away from home where you two go every month to fuck each other's brains out for three days straight. Akin to addicts who can’t be satisfied, you rabidly devour one another until your bodies quit.

“I’ve waited all week for this…I’m so not sorry for how I’m about to fuck you.” ”I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Wrapping his hands around your throat, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he corners you against a wall. Nobody knows that ex!boyfriend!ace has you face down on a mattress with your ass up in the air as his tongue explores both of your entrances. Practically seating you on his face to suction around that clit, flicking his tongue in and out of your tight cunt before prodding your asshole, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva on each of them. Because you wore that adorable little heart shaped plug to help prep you for the weekend.

“You taste so fucking good…especially when I know you’ll let me have it anytime I want.”

nobody knows that you’re somewhere gripping the sheets for dear life as ex-boyfriend!ace delivers the most insane backshots you’ve ever felt. Those perfectly round, thick cheeks ricocheting off of his lower half..the contrast in your skin and that pearlescent scream surrounding his shaft making the sight even better…ripping orgasms from your body with no shame because he deserves it. After all, you belong to him.

“That’s right..come on this dick, bitch. Give me what I want..” he still loves and respects you all the same. But ace knows you prefer rough, degrading sex far more than the mundane and vanilla. Especially when it was in short supply with your current situation. Even going as far as to place a foot on your head, tugging your arms behind your back so that he can really bury his cock inside of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee, just like that, daddy. ‘S so good!”

“You love when I dig you out like this, treating you like a little slut..’swear this pussy’s going to get me in some serious trouble one day. But I don’t care, I love you.”

rambling on as he feels you twitching around him for the third time, leaving splatters of warm juices each time; squirting immensely from the constant stimulation to your spot.

“Damn, you’re coming so hard, pretty girl. Is he not fucking you right?” Laughing before he could even get the very rhetorical question from his mouth. Leaning down to place a trail of pecks and licks on your spine to console you before placing you into a prone position. ”Of course not..nobody knows this body better than me. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” All but confirmed by the way you’re tightening around him..he can’t help but to grip your throat and steal sloppy kisses from you whilst he drills you into the mattress. “Nooo, babyyy. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good..oh my Goddd—“ placing his camera in your face so that he could have it for safekeeping..(and in case he gets wind of your man running his mouth about him again!) Making you call his name and scream it to the heavens. “Aceeee, fuck meeee..”

Nobody knows that you’ve been fucking for damn near an hour while your phone buzzes with missed calls and texts from your boyfriend and whatever little girl he’s deciding to entertain for the moment. As heinous as it was, you were just filling the void and you’d always find your way back to each other. Perhaps it was the thrill of sneaking around that kept this charade going. Either way, you weren’t giving each other for a long time and it’s so obvious why..no one else will do the freaky shit that you both crave so much.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your ass again..feels amazing.” glaring up at him with the most adoring gaze in your eyes and smile on your face as you proudly hold a vibrator to your clit..allowing him to stretch that opposite opening. Practically coming on spot when you began to show your gratitude for this pleasure…

“Thank you, daddy..using all my holes like this. I love it so much.” That much apparent by the tears pouring down your face alongside that toothy grin. Only he could give it to you so good, you begin to cry!

“Oh shit..of course, gorgeous girl. I’d do anything for you..anything to see my baby smile.” Including pinning you down by your throat and letting trails of saliva drip into your mouth. Even feeding you a couple slaps when you all but pleaded with him to treat you like an object.

nobody knows that on the sparse occasions when you have sex with your current man, he’s forced to wear a condom because you’ve discussed several times that you don’t want children and you’re not taking any risks. But ex-boyfriend!ace gets the privilege of feeling that hard cock sliding in and out of you raw..and to breed you as many times as he can muster! Letting load after load spill into your aching womb. Filling every hole with that dripping seed.

“You look so pretty stuffed with my cum, sweetheart. Just how I like it.”

nobody knows why you left ex-boyfriend!ace in the first place but you knew why you’d always come running back!

@violetxxvenom @shamelesshoefairy @lwop-kpop

[capquinn]

can we get a fic about cub biting the other kid 😭

finally more cub requests!!!! i love my lil pookie cub sm

The park hums with the easy chaos of playgroup — toddlers stumbling over their own feet, parents chatting over takeaway coffees, the occasional squeal of excitement when someone finds a particularly good stick. You’re settled comfortably on the picnic blanket, Bug tucked against your side, plucking grapes from her snack container as she debates with her little best friend over the superior jellybean colour. A few feet away, Quinn lounges in the grass, rolling a ball back and forth with Cub, who’s perched on his chubby little knees, still figuring out the mechanics of crawling but determined as ever, his tiny hands smacking against the blanket with every shift forward.

Everything is easy. Relaxed. And then, everything changes.

It happens so casually you don’t even think twice about it.

A little boy around Cub’s age — just a little steadier on his feet, a little quicker — toddles over, big, curious eyes blinking up at you. And you? You don’t hesitate. You scoop him up the way you always do, the way you’ve done a million times before with Bug, with Cub, with any baby who reaches for you. He giggles, tiny hands gripping at your shirt as you bounce him gently on your lap, pressing a quick kiss to his temple before turning back to his mum, slipping seamlessly back into conversation.

And Cub notices.

One second, he’s happily rolling the ball back and forth with Quinn, his babbles mixing in with the hum of the park. The next, he’s staring. Still. Quiet.

Quinn sees it before you do.

The way Cub’s little fingers tighten against the grass. The way his brows knit, his lips press into a pout, his round cheeks heating. The way his whole body tenses with something Quinn immediately recognises.

Possessiveness.

His lips twitch, already bracing for impact.

Bug, blissfully unaware, claps her hands together. “Aw, Cubby wants a cuddle too!”

And for a moment, it looks like she’s right.

Cub moves forward slowly, deliberately. A little wobbly, a little unsteady, but determined. He stops in front of you, wide-eyed and silent, taking in the way your arms are wrapped securely around his little friend.

And then — he leans in.

It looks sweet.

It looks like he’s just joining in on the hug.

Bug gasps at the sight, grinning. “Look, daddy! He’s giving hugs!”

Even you don’t think twice about it, still rubbing a gentle hand over his back, too distracted by your conversation to notice anything suspicious.

But Quinn? Quinn knows.

Quinn exhales through his nose, shifting forward slightly, already anticipating trouble before he even knows what kind of trouble it is. A father’s instinct. His hand is halfway to reaching out, prepared to intervene —

And then there's a sharp, startled cry.

You jolt, looking down just in time to see the damp, slobbery mark glistening on the baby’s sleeve.

Cub leans back, blinking up at you, expression mostly guilty. But not that guilty.

Bug gasps dramatically. You gape, mouth falling open.

Quinn sighs, already shifting forward to scoop Cub up before he can commit a second offense. And when Cub meets his dad’s gaze, his tiny brows furrow, his lips pressing into something that almost looks like a pout.

See? Look what she made me do.

Quinn huffs, bouncing Cub gently as he immediately buries his face into his dad’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Cubby,” he murmurs, rubbing a soothing hand over his son’s back. “We get it. You’re her baby.”

[kiame-sama]

HAE Valentines Special~

Valentines really isn't a thing in the HAE AU, given the have mostly different holidays, but i figured y'all could have a little confession/love thing. I was going to write NSFW for the Dorm Leaders for Valentines day, but time got away from me. instead, here is a little something different.

Warnings: Still yandere, HAE TWST AU, monster AU, Human/Reader is (They/them) to be inclusive, suggestive themes, ficlets, kissing, confessions, suggested cannibalism (Azul path), Unicorn, Nemean Lion, Caecilia, Genie, Harpy, Shinigami, Dragon

Riddle Rosehearts:

"Everything needs to be perfect!"

The Unicorn huffed as he looked over the preparations for the day's Unbirthday party. This would officially be the fifth time he has rechecked the preparations and Trey couldn't help but feel amused at how stressed his friend was.

Though Unbirthdays were common when it came to their dorm, this was supposed to be a special one for several reasons. The beloved Human of Night Raven College was going to be attending this one and Riddle was planning to confess his feelings for them. It was no secret the Unicorn had feelings for the Human, though the Human seemed to be unaware of how the Unicorn actually felt for them.

Still, that didn't mean Trey couldn't have a bit of fun with his close friend.

"I don't know, Riddle, do you think the roses should be painted a different color?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, painting the white roses red is traditional for an Unbirthday party, but this isn't just an Unbrithday party anymore. Why not paint them something that goes with (Y/n)? Like their favorite color?"

"That's-! Actually... that isn't a bad idea."

The Unicorn turned back to look at the roses but another voice cut in before he could decide what to do. That voice belonged to the Human that everyone seemed to adore as they walked over with a warm smile on their face. If anything, it was more surprising that the Human came to the Unbirthday party at all given how Riddle reacted during the first Unbirthday party they attended.

He was determined to not make the same mistake.

"(Y/n), you're early!"

"Well, I thought I could show up and lend a hand! I am enjoying the party too, I shouldn't just get to sit on the sidelines and not help out. What do you need me to do?"

Riddle was thrown off by the sudden offer to assist him and he could feel his chest tightening as his face warmed with a flaming blush. He wanted to wait to confess his feelings for them at the height of the party, perhaps even during croquet. Still, something about the affectionate and kind Human made Riddle absolutely melt and all of that careful planning fell to the wayside.

"(Y/n)," He started, picking up their hands in his own and kissing the back of one affectionately, "the only thing I need from you is for you to listen."

"Okay?"

Riddle swallowed hard, suddenly feeling his mouth go dry as he tried to cobble together what he wanted to say. Nights spent practicing and rehearsing for this moment all suddenly seemed so distant and far out of his reach as he struggled to find the words he was looking for. Luckily for him, dear (Y/n) was as patient as ever to let the Unicorn gather up his thoughts.

"I have spent my life trying to be the best I can, from classes, to being a son, and yet it always felt so hollow and empty. Despite everything I could want being available to me, there was nothing I actually needed. Not until... until I met you. I know I have no right to ask this of you, and I understand if you turn me down but I... I..."

He struggled to force the words out of his mouth as he found himself choking at the last minute. The idea that this amazing person could turn him down poisoned his thoughts and made tears fill in his eyes, especially because he knew he wouldn't be able to handle being rejected. He needed the Human to accept his love completely and wholly or he would lose his mind in grief.

"I love you too, Riddle."

Those words made his mind come to a screeching halt as his breath caught in his throat. He was quick to glance up from their hands to their gently smiling expression as his heart leaped into his throat.

"Y-you do?"

"Of course I do. How could I not?"

"Because I'm such a mess! I attacked you when I Overblotted and-"

He cut off sharply as their hand rest against his cheek, gently pulling him down to lock their lips with his. The Unicorn couldn't help but let out a soft little squealing neigh at the feel of his lips pressed against their own and he hungrily melted into the gentle affection. Their warm body against his own had his face blushing bright red. Riddle found himself panting and longing for more when they broke the sweet kiss, pulling back to look at him adoringly.

"I love you, Riddle Rosehearts."

"And I love you (Y/N). I always will."

~~~~~~~~

Leona Kingscholar:

"Oi, Leona, get up and help!"

Ruggie grumbled his complaints to the dorm leader, who was lounging on some sun warmed rocks as he spent the day dreaming and thinking about what could be, if he only tried. The dorm had been cleaning and tidying up after a rather eventful evening in anticipation of that blessed Human stopping by. Naturally, the lazy Lion wasn't too interested in helping out his Pride even though he was the primary reason the dorm was so messy.

Wrestling and playful fights were common in Savanaclaw and Leona had been the undefeated champion of his Pride for a while now. The night prior has gone about the same and made it clear to all the newcomers that Leona was the leader of his Pride for a reason.

"Nah."

"The hell you mean, nah? (Y/n) is gonna be here any minute-!"

"That's why you're here, Ruggie. It's your job to clean, not mine."

"You-!"

The Gnoll seemed more than a little annoyed with Leona and was about to voice that frustration when another voice was carried over on the wind. (Y/n) had said they would come over for a visit and maybe even make some lunch for the dorm, so they were an expected presence. Still, it made Leona's heart leap up into his throat when he heard them.

The Lion was quick to rise to his paws when he heard the shouted greeting and seemed to have a kind of energy now that he knew his favorite squeaky toy was present. He couldn't resist the lazy smile pulling at his face as he saw that soft Human making their way over to him with a happy smile. What he wouldn't give to have that smile for himself, to keep and to be the only one that got to see such an affectionate expression.

"Mousey, took you long enough."

"Oh, hush. You know it takes a lot for me to be able to slip away from the others to even come here."

"I know. Did that Lizard throw a fit over it?"

"Of course he did, you know how Malleus is, Leona."

He did know.

Leona knew that the Dragon was far too interested in (Y/n) and it made hate burn in the pit of his stomach to think about that overgrown Lizard getting his hands on that soft Human. The idea that he could be relegated to second place yet again only made the anger burn brighter. Years of being second place to everyone else left a chip on the Lion's shoulder regarding the way others perceived him and how he always seemed to be the secondary choice.

He wasn't going to let himself stay second place anymore.

"So what did you want to do-"

The Human's questioning tone cut off as the Lion pulled them to his chest, locking his lips almost immediately with the surprised Human. They hesitated for just a moment before reciprocating the kiss, much to the Lion's enjoyment and vague astonishment. He figured they were fond of him to some extent, but it felt so nice to be able to have that affection returned in full.

As he broke the kiss, he almost chuckled when he saw the slightly dazed expression of that soft Human staring up at him. If they kept looking at him like that, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking more than just a little kiss from them.

"You're mine, you got that, Mousey? All mine. That damned Lizard doesn't get to have you anymore. I am your number one."

This made a small smile pull at their lips as they leaned into the hold of the Lion. It was almost laughable to Leona now to think that he ever believed they could possibly like that Lizard more than they loved him. He was dangerous and came from a long line of Human eaters, but they were never bothered by what his ancestors had done in the past.

"All yours."

~~~~~~~~

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul nervously sat glancing at the phone in front of him as he awaited the arrival of his date for the evening. He had gone though countless plans and countless ideas before he settled on the current one, and now he had to wait while the time ticked away.

It was a relatively cool evening in the Mostro Lounge and Azul had ensured to reserve the entire VIP section just for this occasion. If anything he was nervous and vaguely worried that his invited date wasn't going to show up despite the fact that they had agreed and it was still early to the time he requested they arrive. Still, he found himself constantly looking back to check the time only to see seconds had passed despite the fact that it had felt like hours to him.

The VIP section was lit with small candles and had been cleared out of everything excepting one round table that had two chairs on either side of it. The view of the large external aquarium was quite lovely from where the table was placed as a pair of whale-sharks slowly swam by, circling and dancing together in playful affection. Even the silk table cloth he had placed over the table seemed to have the gentle reflections of light through the water shining onto it, making it look just as fluid.

"Oya, Azul, you seem so pent up and stressed. Could it be you are worried about being rejected?"

The gentle teasing of his second in command and childhood friend, Jade, chimed out and Azul couldn't stop the way he glared over at the smiling Eel. Of course he was nervous and terrified. He didn't know what he would do if he was rejected after going through all of this effort to put together a nice dinner for himself and the soft Human he adored.

There was a part of him- the part he kept mostly hidden- that insisted there was no way the Human could ever love a crybaby like him. Why would they go for someone like him when they could have their pick of anyone in the world? Princes, wealthy tycoons, Kings, anyone they wanted would happily accept their affections, so why would they settle for someone like him?

Jade was well aware of Azul's stress, as the Octopus couldn't even snap back in reply to the light teasing. It was clear to anyone that knew Azul that he was nervous and could hardly sit still in his own seat. His eyes glanced back to the time and he felt his three hearts pound heavily in his chest.

It was time.

"Hey, Azul! Hope I'm not late."

The kind voice of the Human he adored filled his head and only made his hearts hammer even faster as he stood to greet them. They were breath-taking, dressed in the fine clothing he had sent along with the invitation to this candlelit dinner and he almost swooned when he saw them. They looked absolutely enchanting beneath the shining light from the aquarium and he couldn't help but blush bright blue.

"Goodness, this place is beautiful! I don't think I've ever been in the VIP section before. Did you do all of this for me?"

He did. Azul had even gone as far as to sever one of his own tentacles- it would grow back- so he could have a unique dish to serve them just for the occasion. It was typical of male Caecilia to offer their own tentacles as a meal to their mates, he just hoped the Human would accept him as their mate.

"It isn't much," he stated, gently leading the Human to the waiting table, "but I do hope you like it."

"Of course I do. But, this doesn't seem like a friendly little dining experience, is it? This seems more like a date to me."

"W-what? I- Well this isn't- I mean, it could be if you wanted? If you don't want it to be-"

Azul stumbled over his words, feeling his entire face flush a deep cerulean as he tried to save face. Those thoughts and ramblings all came to a screeching halt as the Human gently rest their hand against his cheek, pulling him into a light kiss that left him breathless.

"I would love for this to be our first official date."

"I love you, (Y/n)!"

"And I love you too, my sweet octopus."

~~~~~~~~

Kalim Al-Asim:

Food of varying spices and make were lain out among the various seating areas of the Scarabia dorm, while the dorm members happily sat and talked to one another in excitement. It was normal for the dorm to be having a little celebration amongst themselves, but there was to be a unique guest of honor arriving soon and it had them all buzzing in excitement. Almost everyone in the dorm adored their dorm leader and they were all hoping that the party would go in his favor.

Unlike most in Night Raven College, Kalim Al-Asim was a kind soul who tried to help others despite his own failing in magic. Those who were in the Scarabia dorm had long come to appreciate the Genie that greeted them with warm smiles and affectionate behavior. They were also all in on the plan to get Kalim and the Human he so clearly adored together in a relationship.

Jamil- Kalim's right hand and Vice-Housewarden- was not of the same enthusiasm as the others, but he was still willing to lend his help to the Genie he had spent his life serving. He had been the one to craft all of this fine food, after all, and he was willing to do what it took to keep the Human close, even if meant he had to share with the air-headed Genie. Now, all that was needed was the Human themselves and then the party could really get into full swing.

"Kalim!"

A familiar voice called out and the Genie was quick to rush over to them, almost tackling the Human in an excited hug as he nuzzled against their neck. They chuckled and returned the affectionate hug with their own as they allowed the Genie to pull them to where he had been resting as the head of the group. A kind of hush fell over the gathered students who were all excited to see their beloved Housewarden with the Human he clearly adored.

"(Y/n), before we get the party started, I have something to tell you!"

"Oh? And what would that be?"

Kalim found himself somewhat nervous, but his face didn't show it as he smiled at them, trying to get his ever bouncing mind to calm down just enough to speak his peace. He really hoped that (Y/n) would return his affections at best, or at worse still want to be friends with him after he confessed his feelings for them. The only thing he had to do was actually confess to them the way he had planned.

He seemed to remember the speech he and Jamil had written out has he quickly grabbed the paper from his pocket, looking over it quickly to try and find exactly what he was looking for. He frowned at the paper- as well written as it was- and decided that he no longer needed it. If he was going to pour out his heart, he couldn't let some silly paper get in the way of it.

"(Y/n), I know I'm not the best at magic, and I know my wishes are dangerous, but even with all of that, you're always so nice to me. You don't get mad when I forget things. You don't yell at me when I get a little loud. You're always there when I need you to be and you don't ask me for things in return for you kindness. I feel like I can't think most days, but suddenly I can think like a genius whenever you are close to me. (Y/n), I like you. I really like you. No, I love you, and I was just wondering if there was a way you could possibly love me too?"

There was a moment of silence as the surprised Human stared at him and he felt his heart racing in his chest. Only in that quiet did he possibly think that maybe the Human didn't feel the same way for him as he felt for them and that idea made his heart constrict. He was almost ready to nervously shout that it was all some joke before they smiled at him, pulling him close to press their lips against his.

The moment their lips touched, the other students in the dorm began to cheer, but it all fell on deaf ears. Kalim couldn't believe it. He was actually kissing them! They were so soft and gentle against his lips, he couldn't help but excitedly pull them closer as his Genie tail wound around them to hold them against his chest.

"Of course I love you, Kalim. How could I not?"

The Genie let out a loud cheering whoop which was echoed in kind by the others around him as the Party began in earnest, the Genie never leaving the side of the Human he adored. Even as the Naga glared from the sidelines, feeling maligned and ignored in the height of it all, it did mean that the Human would stay close, and perhaps he could worm his way into their heart the same way Kalim had.

He just needed to bide his time and let the chips fall where they may before he made his move.

~~~~~~~~

Vil Schoenheit:

Another day done, another meaningless photo shoot. As per usual, the great Vil Schoenheit looked amazing on the cameras and off of them, yet he found himself missing a key piece to his the event. No matter how many photos he took or how he posed, he never seemed to have that same spark as he did when his beloved (Y/n) was taking photos with him.

Something about the way they fit in his arms and melted into his hold had the Harpy yearning for their touch and their ever affectionate smile they gifted him that always seemed to be able to make him breathless. He could feel the way his tail ruffled and moved when he thought of them, just wanting to display and dance for the Human that he wholeheartedly adored. What he wouldn't give to have them by his side and hold onto him the way he longed to hold onto them.

Even as his manager spoke with the photographers and parsed out more deals and photoshoots to be had, he found himself not interested in the simplicity of their conversations. Not even the modeling contracts he had held the same interest they once did before he met the Human he had fallen so hard for. Countless others swooned and praised his name, longing for just a moment of his time or attention, yet his heart was set on the one who never seemed to seek him out.

"Roi du Poison!"

The familiar name his boon companion used for him drew the contemplative Harpy out of his thoughts, his purple eyes flicking over to see what it was the eccentric Drider needed from him. The moment he saw the Drider everything else seemed to fall away, as that soft and lovely Human was approaching with him. Naturally, the photographers seemed to notice the profound change in the typically icy model as he warmed and a smile took over his smooth expression.

This was no demure smile, mind you. The smile that pulled at Vil's lips was one of genuine affection and joy as he turned to fully face his two favorite companions. Several photographers paused their disassembly, even choosing to put the cameras back in place just in the rare case that they were going to see something amazing take place.

The Human paid no mind to the cameras or to those who were watching curiously and instead chose to approach the smiling Harpy with and equally excited smile.

"(Y/n), to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Just wanted to stop by and see you! Rook said you would have a moment after you photoshoot and I wanted to know if you wanted to come over to Ramshackle for a quick bite to eat before your next activity?"

"I would love to."

"Really?"

"Of course. Why would I refuse such an invitation?"

"Well, I was just worried you might be too busy since you always seem to have so much to do..."

The almost shy behavior of the Human warmed Vil's chest as he felt his tail once again stirring to display itself for the sweet Human he adored. Perhaps, with the better lighting and the relaxed atmosphere, his tail would have a greater impact on them than it had in the past when he fist chose to display for them. As they rambled off about how busy Vil always seemed to be, he caught their hand, quieting them quickly.

"(Y/n), do you know what it means when a Peacock Harpy displays their tail for someone?"

"Rook said it means that the Harpy is interested that person and wants to be their mate."

Vil smiled at this, his tail and crest feathers rising up to a full display, the light catching the many colors as his wings extended out to either side of his body. Each feather moved and seemed to create the illusion of dancing as the Harpy circled the Human, parading his feathers for them to behold in his own dazzling display of affection. The Human seemed surprised by this sudden show of affection, but they also seemed to take it in stride as they caught the dancing Harpy in a tight hold, surprising him slightly.

"So, does this mean what I think it means?"

"What do you think it means?"

Instead of answering the Harpy's question, the Human pulled him into a quick kiss, locking their lips with his own. He almost broke the kiss to yell at the nosy photographers as he heard the many sounds of cameras clicking, capturing the moment on film. Rook was actually the one to begin admonishing the photographers for Vil as the Harpy broke the kiss, resting his forehead against that of the sweet Human he adored.

"It means I love you, (Y/n). Judging from your response, you love me too."

"How could I not? You're amazing and absolutely beautiful, Vil."

~~~~~~~~

Idia Shroud:

"Idi-nii."

Another win down, another win to go. Idia was on a hot streak and there was no way he was going to slow down for anyone. If he kept this up, he would be able to get drops for all the gear he needed to complete his set. He might even be able to get gear for his secondary character that ran DPS.

"Idi-nii!"

"What?"

The insistent voice of his little sibling drew the Shinigami out of his trance, moving one headphone off of his ear so he could turn to look at his exasperated little brother. He was about to complain at Ortho that he was busy and interrupting his streak would throw off his game when he noticed the littler Shinigami was not alone. Standing next to the technomantic Shinigami was a familiar Human that made Idia's heart skip a beat and made him turn away from the game, his streak quickly forgotten.

"Did you forget (Y/n) was coming over to play games with us?"

"... Maybe?"

"Idi-nii..."

Otho was clearly frustrated with the behavior of his older brother, but the Human was not put off by the forgetful behavior of the older Shinigami. Instead, they chuckled softly in response to his nervous statement and it made him smile. Usually he thought others were laughing at him whenever someone chuckled around him, but he couldn't help feeling that the Human was actually fond of him.

Most avoided the awkward older Shinigami who kept to himself, but the Human had made it their mission to actually befriend him however possible. Even as he smiled back at them, he could feel the way his hair changed from the consistent blue to a gentle magenta. Unfortunately, the Human seemed to notice this as well.

"Hey, Hellkitty."

"Hello to you too, Gloomurai. You ready to play some games with me and Ortho?"

"Yeah, just let me log off of this and I can get a game started up for us."

"Okay. Quick question, though."

"What's up?"

"Why does your hair change color whenever you see me?"

This actually threw Idia off as he began to stutter, stumbling over his words to try and come up with a reasonable lie to throw off his true feelings for the Human. He didn't think he was ready to confess that to them, or to anyone really, and he was worried that there was no way the Human would possibly love such a weirdo back. He had to think of something quickly.

"Well, you see- you see it means- I- I mean it- it is because-"

"It's because Idi-nii loves you, (Y/n)."

Idia could practically feel himself blue-screen as Ortho easily said the words he struggled to find and he felt the sting of betrayal deep in his chest. How could Ortho, his trusted brother, do this to him? To voice his feelings just like that for the Human to deny or even be repulsed by? He didn't know if he would be able to forgive-

"Oh, is that all? Well, good thing I love him too, or this would be really awkward."

"... Huh?"

"I said, 'good thing I love him too', you silly Shinigami."

"L-LOVE?? You love me?? Really? But why? I'm just a freak with flaming hair who-"

Idia was cut off mid rambling by the sudden feeling of lips against his own and his entire brain seemed to shut down completely. His hair burned a deep magenta as he rest his hands over their shoulders and pulled them deeper into his affection, his long limbs wrapping around them to hold them close. He could faintly register the bright glow of his hair as the magenta color reflected off of their skin, giving them that same bright glow.

"I love you, Gloomurai. I don't care if you think you are weird, I adore you in all of you awkward glory."

"W-Weeheehehe~!"

~~~~~~~~

Malleus Draconia:

The evening was a lovely one, not too cold and not too balmy either. Somewhere in between with a warm breeze that seemed to soothe the turbulent soul and a soft caress of an affectionate lover. It was the prefect kind of evening to allow the pair to walk mostly undisturbed across the campus.

As a Nocturnal Dragon Fae, Malleus was more at peace in the evening than he was during the daytime, allowing him to let down in guard under the cover of night. Even as the Human walked by his side, he knew they were happy and protected in the cover of darkness. All felt right with the world, so long as he had his Human by his side.

Overhead, the stars glimmered and shined like the very cosmos were rejoicing in the peaceful moment shared between two souls. It didn't matter how the shadows clawed for attention, not a moment would be spared spent focusing on anything other than the Human that held to Dragon's arm. He would ensure they were protected and nothing else truly seemed to matter to him as the two walked together.

The Dragon had a reason to spend this auspicious evening by the side of his Beloved and he was ready to lay his heart out for them, if only for a few more seconds of their treasured time. Of all the gifts that they had given him- from his quirky nickname to the simple moment spent enjoying one another's company- he had yet to give them something that could compare to the joy they had given him. He planned to correct that oversight with his own heart offered up to them to keep.

"It's a beautiful evening."

They commented off handedly, keeping their voice low to not disturb the peace that had settled over the usually lively campus they wandered. It was certainly lovely, but nowhere near as breathtaking as the Human he held in his embrace.

"Yes. Very lovely."

"Did you want to just have a nice walk, or was there something else that you wanted to talk about tonight? You even told Lilia he couldn't come, so I'm guessing you have something in mind?"

Ever the observant one, (Y/n) always seemed to know when there were thoughts plaguing the Dragon even before others did. It was that observative behavior and quick understanding of him that Malleus valued above all others. So few could read the Dragon half as well as his beloved Human could, and he knew he could never let the crown jewel of his Hoard escape his embrace.

He needed to let them know how he felt about them.

As he paused by their side, they were quick to turn their curious gaze to him, looking up with their head cocked to one side in an ever endearing way that made his heart swell in his chest. To think, the precious short lived creature had managed to entangle the heart of the lonesome Dragon with such adeptness he didn't even realize how hard he fell until his own emotions seemed to slap him across the face.

"(Y/n), I've been meaning to talk to you about something. Something that is very important to me."

"What is it, Tsuno?"

He paused and relished the feeling of his beloved so close to his chest and so warm against his own naturally cold body. They seemed to fit perfectly in his hold and he couldn't stop himself from pulling them closer, chuckling as they gasped ever so softly.

"I find myself thinking of you whenever we are apart. Longing to hold you, to taste your lips, to embrace your body and soul with my own. I have never felt such a rush from anyone other than you, and it kills me to think of anyone getting to hold you the way I long to."

"Malleus..."

"(Y/n), Dragons love deeply and fiercely. I don't want to consume you in the flames of my passion if that is not what you want of me. I love you (Y/n) (L/n). I would burn the world to ash if you only asked it of me and I would embrace you in the ruins of the burning land around us for the mere pittance of your smile. If you don't want this... if you don't want me-"

The Dragon was cut off as his head was pulled down into a passionate kiss, feeling his chest swell with adoration for the gentle and fragile soul he held in his arms. There as no more need for words to be said, the action speaking far louder than any sweet nothing that could be whispered into the night. Such adoration made his heart ache in affection as he embraced the love of his life, knowing they willingly embraced him in return.

He could live thousands of years with no one other than (Y/n) as his company, and they would be the happiest years of his life. All he needed was his love by his side and the gentle embrace of their affection to fill his heart.

He would never let them go.

[writingsbychlo]

A THIN LINE | LORENZO BERKSHIRE

SUMMARY: there's a pretty thin line between hate and love and enzo is coming right up against it. WORD COUNT: 2782 NOTES: this might actually be one of my favourite pieces I've written, can't say why? I just realised I was in love with it as I wrote it so I hope you all love it too!

Lorenzo Berkshire hated Valentine’s Day. 

He hated commitment, he hated romance, he hated the idea of a stupid day dedicated to public announcements of love stories that would most likely end in tragedy. He hated the concept of monogamy, but if he dug deeper, he could probably sum that up to some kind of traumatic backstory. 

He didn’t like to disguise himself by his parents, he was his own damn person and he wasn’t like them, but a therapist would probably say otherwise. Somewhere between the emotionally abusive mother who was so dedicated to his adulterous, physically abusive father that their only son’s wellbeing fell to nothingness, well, a therapist would probably have something to say about that. 

Suffice it to say, that Lorenzo Berkshire didn’t do love. 

He did sex. He did it well. He was charming and flirty and he knew exactly how good-looking he was. With his perfect hair and his pretty smile and the gazes that made men and women alike go weak in the knees. He knew how to get what he wanted, and it worked on everyone he set his mind to. 

He didn’t do love. 

At least, this inner turmoil was exactly what he was trying to convince himself of as he lay on his back, still flushed a soft pink along his face and chest. His lungs were still burning a little to catch his breath, and his muscles were sore in the most exquisite way, his body thrumming in the aftershock of pleasure. 

He was always on Theodore’s arse about his smoking habits, but he wished he had one now. Maybe it would be something else to do with his hand rather than keep stroking your hair, maybe it would be something to do with his mouth to stop him leaning in and pressing another kiss to the top of your head as you lounged on his chest. 

You stirred, your leg flexing where it was thrown over his own, soft skin that had been perfumed with florals and sugars that had made his head spin was still soft as it slid against his own. He could still feel the warmth of your skin against his lips, the pulse of your racing heartbeat when he’d kissed across your neck. 

He’d left marks. You hated when he did that, but he couldn't help himself. Some deep, sick, twisted part of himself got a thrill out of the fact you’d spent Valentine’s Day with him. Even if he hated it, everyone else would know. You could scrub away his touch and layer new perfumes over the smell of his cologne on your body, you could change your clothes and sneak back to your dorm with an excuse to the girls waiting up for gossip, but you would never be able to hide the blossoming prints he left with his mouth, or the swell of your lips, or the tremble in your step from the way he’d fucked you. 

No. That would stick with you for days. 

You shifted again, groaning a little as you stretched, and Enzo’s heart dropped in his chest. Only moments later, you lifted your head, and scrunched your nose up in that adorable way as you came back around. 

“Did I fall asleep again?”

His lips twitched up at the edges, and he popped a hand behind his head, peering down at you. Twisting that smile into a smirk, he shrugged. “I guess I just wore you out.”

You laughed lightly, a sound that he wanted tattooed to the inside of his mind, a sound he wanted to set as his ringtone, his alarm clock, to hear every morning and every night. That, and the way you so reverently whispered his name when he’d kissed you hours ago. 

It went this way every time. He’d slip you a note, or you’d give him a coy look across the room. Sometimes, it started with a party. It didn’t really matter how it started, only that it ended with the two of you stumbling into bed, your soft moans in his ear as he buried his face into your neck, the breathy call of his name as he sent you to paradise over and over. For almost a year this arrangement had been going on, and at first, he hadn't been sure why it was you he kept coming back to. Why you made him break his one-night-only rule so many times he’d lost count. 

But then he’d just given up caring. 

Now, he just let himself sink further, he could no longer see the surface. He just waited for the rays of your sunlight to break through the ripples, to warm him as he lay on the bottom of the lake, drowning over and over again. 

Hours ago the sun had risen, when you’d shyly asked him what his plans for the night were, and promised to come by later when he confirmed he had none. Now, he was waiting for the sun to set once again. 

You’d say something like—

“I should get going, it’s getting late and my roommates will start to wonder where I am.”

There it was. 

He fought to keep the grin on his face, not to let it show. Instead, he just nodded, taking a moment longer to convince the arm banded tightly around your waist to let go. Slipping away, he fisted his hand into the sheets instead, watching as you rolled away from his side He felt cold where you left, and tugged up the covers a little more to cover himself, like suddenly he was too exposed to let you see him if you turned. 

He let his gaze sweep over you, open and adoring while your back was turned. Gathering up your clothes, you didn’t look back at him until you were tugging your t-shirt back over your head. Twisting on your heel to look at him, you let a smile crawl up your face. 

“What are you looking at?”

“You.” He said before he could stop himself. With a chastising groan, he rolled back into the bed, turning his back to you and rubbing a hand down his face. You laughed again, that sound would be his undoing, he was sure, and then your smaller hand was crawling over his shoulder. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was sweet.”

He wasn’t embarrassed the way you thought he was, but you were giving him an out, and he would damn sure take it. He just nodded, bashfully, an act he’d gotten good at putting on, and swung his legs over the bed. Swiping his boxers from the floor, he tugged them up, and let his elbows rest on his knees as he sat back on the mattress. 

There was a question tugging at his lips as he watched you free your hair from the collar of your shirt. You were so beautiful and so kind. Everything you did felt like the acts of a saint to him, you could be a religion and he’d fall to his knees to worship. You did something to him, something he’d never felt before. It was all-consuming, life-altering, suffocating and terrifying. And the longer he stared, the harder it became to hold back the words clawing up his throat. Until he gave up fighting it. Something he seemed to be getting a little too good at these days. 

“Why were you alone this evening?” The words broke out, the sound of his own ragged voice shattering the peaceful silence in his room. The smile on your face melted away, you weren’t mad or hurt, just neutral, perhaps even curious, as you shrugged. 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He pushed, and you only stared, a piercing gaze that cracked him in two with ease. You wanted an answer, and he wanted to give you anything you wanted. “I don’t like Valentine’s Day. I think it’s a contrived attempt to get money out of poor suckers who don’t understand that it’s probably never going to last anyway.”

You only blinked at him, registering his words, before your lips twitched at the side, and you offered him a small smirk. “Wow. Someone certainly hates love.”

Love. 

There was that word, that one that made him feel like there was a rope around his neck, a hand wrapped around his heart, choking the life out of him. “But to answer your question, I wasn’t alone this evening. I was with you.”

“I’m sure I wasn’t your first plan.” He wouldn't get his hopes up, he refused to let something so poisonous into his mind willingly, “I bet you were hoping a nice lad would ask you out, take you for dinner and woo you, before taking you back to his dorm, buy your affections. Instead, they missed out, and here you are, giving to me freely.”

There was a bite to his voice, and your brows furrowed. Perhaps he’d pushed it too far, it wouldn't be the first time, you’d leave and ignore him for a day or two and he would convince himself the world wasn’t ending. Then, he’d pull you into some hidden corner and kiss apologies into your mouth as he soothed away your anger. 

You just shook your head at him and stayed silent, and somehow that was worse. 

“Right. Okay. Well, then, I’m leaving if we’re done here. I’ll get right on looking for that nice guy.”

He watched you walk, and felt his heart rate ratchet up with every step you took closer to the door, to leaving, and this time, it was all just too much. This time, he kicked off the sandy lake floor and swam for the surface. “Don’t.”

He’d shot to his feet, so fast he felt dizzy as you turned to face him, and you only raised a brow in silent question. 

“Don’t… go. Or don’t find a nice guy. I’m sorry, I’ll be nicer. I don’t know what I— just… don’t.” 

Your fingers twitched on the door handle as he cursed himself for his rambling mess. He’d never stumbled his way through a stance like that before, he was normally the smooth one. Now, he felt sick, and anxious, fizzes and pops of cold anxiety he could feel all the way to his fingertips as he waited. 

Your hand tightened around the door handle, before sliding away. 

“What do you want from me, Enzo?” You sounded tired as you sighed the words out, and he didn’t want that exhaustion to be because of him, it sounded bone-deep and emotional. But, he knew it was. “Give me a reason to stay, to stay with you. Because it’s Valentine’s Day, and here I am, spending it with you. My first choice. I chose you over romance and flowers and being made to feel special. I chose you and your bedsheets over a pretty dress and compliments. I chose you, and yet, all you’re doing is pushing me away.”

“I’m sorry.” His hand clutched at his chest, rubbing at the place just left of his sternum where it ached inside, his throat stinging. “I don’t know what I want. I just… I want you to stay. I want to know you’ll stay, and that you won’t be with someone else. I want you all the fucking time, it’s not normal! I want you by my side, I want you to keep laughing at my jokes and nobody else, I want you to kiss me and get me to shut up, because I can’t find the words to say it, all I know is how I feel, and—”

You did as he asked, much to his surprise. Your nails pressed lightly into the sides of his neck as you kissed him, nibbling on his lower lip cheekily. His hands slipped once again around your waist, and the tight pressure that felt like it had been slowly leeching his life away finally subsided. 

He stole kisses, again and again, until you were making that angelic sound he loved and pulling back. 

“Say it again.”

“What, all of it? I can’t remember it all.” He mumbled, in a daze, swaying closer to bump his nose into yours. 

“No, just the part about having feelings for me.”

He raised a hand, so big compared to you, and brushed it over the side of your head, holding you gently. Godric, did you have any idea how precious you were to him? No, because that would require him actually saying it. “Of course I have feelings for you, honey. I just don’t know what they are. They’re fucked up, mean and possessive. I want all your time, I want all your attention. I want to punch other guys when they’re near you, I want to smell your fucking hair like some kind of sap, I want to keep you locked by my side until the end of the fucking world so no one else can get to you because you’re… mine.”

You didn’t recoil, you didn’t scare off. Instead, you chuckled at him, blinking up at him with amusement like he’d told another joke. He wasn’t perfect in this moment, he was exposed and ragged and raw. He was the most vulnerable, open version of himself, and you should be running. 

But you weren’t. 

“Enzo, you really don’t know what that is? It’s exactly what I feel too.” The breath was rushed from him, as you took his hand and rested it over your heart, leaning in to kiss his cheek between breathy laughs. “You stupid, endearing man. There’s nothing wrong with you, Enzo.”

“There’s not?”

“No.” You smiled, pecking his lips again, and his eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering to chase your kiss because just for half a second, it felt so different. “You know the name. Four little letters. Don’t let it freak you out too much.”

Love.

It did freak him out. It made him want to spiral and scream and tear at his hair. It made him want to rage and cry and kick something. But, you were still here. So, perhaps, it also made him want to hold you tight, protect you from the world, spend the rest of his life devoted to you and spring you. It was crippling and horrid, and intoxicating.

“I love you.” He mumbled, and this time, your eyes did widen. Just for a second. But he said it again, let the words sit heavy in his mouth, let himself get used to the feel of them. He’d never said it before. Not to his parents, his friends, or even a pet. But the more he said it, the less power it had over him. It stopped feeling like a gun to his head but felt more like a baby bird in his hands. Precious, fragile, a living gift to be protected, not a death sentence. “I love you.”

He wasn’t sure how many times he’d said it now, but it seemed you believed him, as you threw your arms around his neck. Shiny eyes closing, hot tears leaking down your cheeks and your kiss tasted of salt this time, but he didn’t mind. Not as he wiped those tears away, and kissed you back with everything he had. 

He hoped you could still hear the words running through his mind, even as his mouth was occupied. Could you feel his love in this kiss, did it feel different to you too, now?

Huh. Hope.

Maybe that wasn’t so bad either. 

He got it now, with the smile on your face, the way the simplest of things, a few murmured words, a few sounds and syllables strung together had created that look of sunshine. The kind of ethereal blessing that made him feel like he’d been absolved, a miracle that chased out the dark. He got it. 

Perhaps now he understood why people enjoyed the chance to proclaim their love, to make hopeful promises for the future in a desperate plea to ensure it happened. He would do it too, next year. He’d make sure there was a next year to celebrate, and one after that, and that, and onwards. 

As you kissed him, and your lips brushed his own softly as you mumbled those words back into his mouth, he got it. His hand slipped up, tangling in your hair and his mouth slanted across your own, drowning in the taste of heaven on your tongue as you slipped it along his lower lip, he got it. 

There was a thin line between love and hate. Lorenzo Berkshire loved you, and maybe, now, he could love Valentine’s Day too. 

[dubiousanon]

☀️ Even Shikamaru's PARENTS knew they were dating. Naruto even asked their permission to marry their son. All of them assumed Shikamaru knew.

☀️ Shikamaru would covet naps together. Anytime he can get Naruto to be still more than two seconds, he'd swoop on and capitalize on the opportunity. Oh, you're a little tired from training? Bed. Now.

☀️ To Shikamaru, Naruto is the height of interesting. He's the most amazing, most brilliant, most spectacular. This kind of feeds into his "there's no way he could like me" mindset.

☀️ Naruto could do the least platonic shit on the planet and Shikamaru would still question it. I just imagine Naruto casually stepping into the shower with him and asking him to wash his back and Shikamaru would still be like "well, maybe he just needs help reaching!"

☀️ Brother in arms, his specialty is a jutsu that makes literally more clones than any one person could ever need. If he needed help scrubbing his own back, he would have it.

☀️ Naruto knows nothing about gift giving. He's never really gotten a gift himself, but he knows fruit is something you're supposed to give on special occasions. Cue him randomly giving Shikamaru apples, oranges, strawberries, even entire watermelons at random. Shikamaru would take them without question, too.

☀️ Shikamaru's favorite hobby switches from cloud watching to Naruto watching. Naruto trains daily and it's Shikamaru's favorite hobby to just camp out under a tree and profit. Naruto with his big grin, practically glowing, golden under the sun? Any day of the week, Shikamaru will be there.

☀️ Naruto can eat as much as he wants at Ichiraku's. No amount is too high. Shikamaru will abuse the Nara clan's reserves. Feeding him his favorite meal is one of his greatest satisfactions.

☀️Growing up alone, Naruto definitely learned how to cook the basics, at a minimum. He'd make an effort to learn more from Yoshino too because it's always been his dream to be able to make a home cooked meal for his family.

☀️ Shikamaru would bite. Naruto may be the more animalistic one of the two, but Shikamaru would want to know what Naruto tasted like, how pink his skin could get, what shades he'd bruise in.

☀️ Naruto would adore hugging. His arms would be around Shikamaru's neck, him draping into his side, sagging into his arms, practically hanging off of him any chance he could get.

☀️ Shikamaru planned to stay a regular jonin but eh, that's not going to work. Naruto made a vague joke about Shikamaru becoming his advisor one day, so now Shikamaru is going to dedicate his entire life and all his effort into being qualified for that position! Just in case! Tee hee!

☀️ Naruto would steal his clothes. Non-stop, every day, all the time. He'd love the smell of Shikamaru and would just want to drown in it endlessly.

☀️ Shikamaru would be the type of weirdo to buy them a house. The perfect one would go on the market and sure, it's a little premature and assumption to make, but he'd calculate the pros and cons and go for it.

☀️ Naruto would want to hold hands constantly. Even before they started dating, there's so much physical contact he missed out on growing up. He'd want to be close to someone, and the fact that Shikamaru allows it? The fact that he isn't annoyed? Naruto can hardly believe it.

☀️ Shikamaru... let's just say bro wouldn't be lazy in bed. We all know what's lurking in there.

☀️ Naruto definitely has more stamina than him though and would want to keep going. Do with that what you will.

☀️ Shikamaru thinks he's the lucky one, someone so gorgeous and strong being with someone drab like him. Meanwhile, Naruto thinks he's the lucky one. Shikamaru is so smart and level-headed, and the fact that Shikamaru is with someone as annoying as him? Insane to him.

☀️ Naruto could be screaming at the top of his lungs and Shikamaru would never, ever find him annoying.

☀️ Again, the sillies ♥️ I love them forever and ever I need MORE of them in my life

ShikaNaru Headcanons

☀️Shikamaru definitely realizes his feelings first and it is 100% an "oh, shit" moment.

☀️I imagine the Nara clan to love not as angrily as the Uchiha, but just as obsessively. Where the Uchiha seek to almost possess, the Nara clan covets knowledge. In this case, Shikamaru wants to know everything about Naruto— no detail is too small.

☀️ I'm not saying Shikamaru is stalking him, but he'd definitely follow him everywhere. Like, he's not trying to hide. Naruto just hasn't noticed because it's... Well, it's Naruto.

☀️And the few times he does notice him it's just— "Wow, what're you doing here Shikamaru? 😀" baby you should be asking why you've seen him ten different times this week and it's only Monday.

☀️Nara Fixation Nara Fixation Nara Fixation Nara Fixation Nara Fixation Nara Fixation, did I say Nara Fixation yet?

☀️Naruto wants for nothing because somehow, Shikamaru always knows exactly what he needs and is able to predict exactly when he's going to need it.

☀️ Naruto never quite realizes the depth of the obsession/love. He's just completely oblivious to the fact that Shikamaru is kind of, slightly, a little bit (maybe a lot a bit) insane. With a cherry on top.

☀️ Lowkey, I am a huge fan of crazy Shikamaru. Like, not outwardly crazy, but "I know your height, weight, regular resting heart rate, wrist diameter, and how many times you've said 'believe it' today" crazy Shikamaru. Knows too much Shikamaru.

☀️Naruto 100% just assumes they're dating after a while of certain details accumulating. Shikamaru feeds him like, daily. Shikamaru has shared a bed with him several times. They spend a lot of time together. They hold hands. Shikamaru knows like, everything about him somehow.

☀️ Naturally, they must've been dating this entire time and Naruto simply didn't notice until now. And because Naruto has zero experience with healthy relationships, he just accepts this as fact and moves on with his life.

☀️ Shikamaru when Naruto grabs him by the face on day, plants a huge kiss on him with no context, and then skips off: 👁️👄👁️

☀️ Come on, it'd be so funny.

☀️ Insert Naruto also knowing a surprising amount about Shikamaru, because he's more attentive than people give him credit for. Shikamaru follows him around so much, of course he learns about him over time. He may be an idiot, but he's not a moron. Or... something like that.

☀️ Naruto is just happy someone actually wants to be around him. Sasuke is Sasuke, Sakura constantly yells at him, Kakashi literally runs, Yamato is only around for training, and Sai just insults him in increasing intervals when they're together.

☀️ Touch-Starved! Naruto vs. Can't get enough of touching him! Shikamaru! Go! Fight!

☀️ Shikamaru "he's never going to love me" Nara and Naruto "I wonder when Shikamaru is gonna propose" Uzumaki

☀️ Naruto just goes to the court house and files the documents himself. Surprise, Shikamaru. Not only does he love you, you've been married for the past four months.

☀️ Alternatively, Shikamaru could pull the same move. Oh, you kissed me on the mouth? Sounds like a proposal to me.

☀️ For a certified genius, Shikamaru would absolutely be the kind of idiot to assume Naruto couldn't ever return his feelings. There could be so much evidence to the contrary and it really WOULD take an entire kiss to the lips to convince him.

☀️ No worries, Naruto is more than willing to oblige.

☀️ Basically um I love them, they're both smart AND stupid in different ways, but they make it work. And nobody can change my mind.

[dumpywrites]

Emulsion - Kim Namjoon / RM

Prompt: Love and business don’t mix, and so do both of you. 

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Angst (happy ending), arranged marriage, slow burn

Pairing: Namjoon x she/her reader

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is the most angsty angst I’ve ever written so far I actually cried while writing it omg 😭😭😭

You knew what you were getting into when your family introduced you to the Kims. 

You knew your parents wanted to seal the deal with their corporation, and in order to have bigger share of the stocks, someone had to infiltrate in. That person being you, of course. Yes, your family totally sold you for some fortune. Very unfortunate. 

It was told that there was no pressure in marrying their son, Kim Namjoon. Said that you should just go on a few dinners with him, to see whether you enjoyed his company or not. In which to be fair, after meeting him in person, you actually didn't dislike him. He was quite easy to talk to, well-mannered, and seemed to be a bit philosophical. Also, quite the nice looking individual. Nice was a bit of a downplay actually. Man was handsome. 

Just after three supposed “dates” your parents booked a dinner at a hotel for both of you, not knowing they also booked a room for you to stay the night. 

It was never your intention. You were disappointed by how greedy your parents were and how they’d just blatantly do anything for power. The fact that they were probably thinking it was better if you just ended up getting knocked up by him was insanely outrageous. 

While you had no part in this play, Namjoon was pissed. He didn’t think you were actually this shallow or how you could stoop this low. Right after both of you were informed that a room was available for use, the man immediately excused himself, leaving you behind. 

You would think that was supposed to be the end of this story. That was until you saw a text from him, two weeks following the last incident. 

“I have a proposal for you.”

Apparently, his dying grandmother’s wish were to see him married. At the blossoming age of thirty, his old-fashioned family desperately wanted him to do so too. To the point where his father was holding his personal project back, threatening to shut it down if he disobeyed. Your greedy parents and his close minded ones somehow had one vision in common. Both of you, marriage. After all, this agreement would just simply benefited both parties.

You never wanted to marry. After your past relationships you had enough of your trust being broken, and you didn’t think it was even possible to trust anyone at this point. Namjoon never really wanted to raise a family. He did not want kids and had dreams and goals he would still like to pursue himself. But financial-wise, neither any of you were ready to be let go from your respective families if you chose to disagree. 

The ceremony of your wedding day was almost perfect. You were glad that the Kims let you get involved in the preparation, even though it was just as minimum as choosing some few options. The wedding theme was actually what you had always picture a fairytale wedding would be. The beautiful garden theme inside a dim lit ballroom, light periwinkle decorations. Despite not wanting one, a girl could dream, right? 

You barely remembered saying your vows, barely registered the way Kim Namjoon had slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch fleeting, impersonal. The cameras had captured smiles that weren’t real, a picture perfect couple that didn’t exist. Your kiss was merely a touch, but at least you were not crying on your wedding day. 

The night at the hotel, your husband spent the night sleeping on the couch. You were unsure if it was because he did not want to make you uncomfortable, or if it was due to him just resenting you as a person. 

And it had been like that for almost half a year now. You had separate bedrooms in your house, despite your wedding picture being displayed on the biggest frame they could get. Both of you and Namjoon barely had any conversation and barely even see each other when you were together in the house. 

Your life with Namjoon had settled into a quiet routine. Cordial but distant, polite but impersonal. He was never cruel, never dismissive, and yet there was always an invisible wall between you. He never spoke harshly. Never raised his voice. Never ignored you outright. But he also never sought you out unless necessary.

Most nights, you dined together out of obligation, sitting across from each other in an expensive yet cold dining room, exchanging words only when required. You weren’t strangers, but you weren’t partners either.

Yet, Namjoon was kind. In ways that were small but undeniable. He always made sure your morning tea was just the way you liked it, setting it on the kitchen counter before he left for work. He never invaded your space, never made you feel uncomfortable in your own home. If he noticed you were exhausted, he would quietly order dinner so you wouldn’t have to cook. If you fell asleep on the couch, he would drape a blanket over you before retreating to his own room.

It wasn’t love but it wasn’t cruelty either. 

And you were content with it. 

Then something happened at the worst possible time.

You and Namjoon had been carefully avoiding another confrontation, balancing on the razor thin edge of whatever this thing between you had become. But the universe had other plans.

The two of you had been at yet another corporate event, one of those weekend retreats meant to foster “unity” among business partners. You had spent most of the evening keeping your distance, exchanging polite words when necessary but never lingering.

That was until the storm hit. Heavy rain poured outside, thunder rumbling in the distance. The venue was a secluded estate in the countryside, and thanks to the storm, most of the guests had either left early or locked themselves in their rooms for the night.

You hadn’t planned to stay long and either had Namjoon. But when you returned to your designated guest room, you found him there. Standing by the window, his phone in hand, expression tense.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, brows furrowing.

Namjoon exhaled, turning to face you. “There was a mix up. Apparently, we were booked into the same room.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?!”

“I already spoke to the staff.” He said, voice tight. “All the other rooms are taken.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to say he would find another way. That he’d sleep in the lobby, the car, anywhere else. But then again, you couldn’t really blame him. Both of you booking a separate room was already weird enough. Him having to demand for it again would make it look even worse. 

“We’ll just have to deal with it for tonight.”

Your pulse pounded. “There’s only one bed.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I noticed.”

The tension in the room thickened, suffocating, neither of you knowing how to navigate this. You were used to distance. Used to space. But now, with a locked door and a storm raging outside, there was none.

You swallowed. “I’ll take the couch.”

Namjoon frowned. “It’s barely big enough to sit on, let alone sleep.”

“I’ll manage.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. “Don’t be stubborn. Take the bed.”

“Your body is literally bigger than mine. I’ll take the couch.” You insisted. 

To be frank you weren’t sure what would be worse, sleeping next to him and pretending you didn’t feel every inch of space between you, or letting him sleep there alone and knowing you had chosen to not try to better your relationship. 

Namjoon watched you carefully, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Your head snapped up. “What? No!”

“I’m not taking the bed…” He said firmly. “And you’re not sleeping on that couch.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes told you it was useless.

Without another word, Namjoon grabbed a spare pillow, tossed it onto the floor, and lay down, one arm resting over his forehead. You stood there, frozen, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the tension in his jaw.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be alone with him like this. And yet, as you slowly climbed into bed, lying stiffly on one side, you just couldn’t ignore the way his presence felt too close. As the storm continued outside, neither of you spoke.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you slept either.

“Namjoon,” You called softly. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah, why?” The way his voice didn’t sound hoarse at all. You knew he was wide awake the entire time. 

“Aren’t you cold? I… I think there’s enough space up here if you want…” You hesitated. 

“Don’t worry about me, just get some rest.” 

“No.” You paused. “I am worried.” 

There was a small pause coming from the guy underneath as well before he spoke again. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Was all you said. 

You didn’t dare to look at him, but you heard his movement before feeling the mattress dipped with weight next to you. Your back was facing him, body under the covers. It didn’t seem like he slipped under it, probably too afraid to make you uncomfortable in any way. 

So you took action and got up, dragged the blanket over so it could cover his body too, before going back to your previous position. You didn’t get the chance to catch his reaction. 

“You know…” You suddenly said. You didn’t know what came over you tonight for being so bold. “That night on our first dinner… It wasn’t me. My parents booked it without telling…”

You felt his body turned to your direction, but you still refused to look at him. 

“I know.” He replied gently. 

“I’m sorry, if you ever feel used by me or my family.” 

“Neither one of our families are innocent.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this as well.”

You didn’t know why but the way he talked suddenly made your heart race. “Good night.” You said, quickly ending the conversation with your back still facing him. 

“Good night.” He replied shortly. 

You woke up when you felt an arm just suddenly draped around your body. You weren’t too sure of what to do. Would it be offensive if you refuse? Should you just let him be? He pulled you even closer before you even had the chance to say anything. 

Now being fully in his embrace, your back against his hard chest, you could quite literally feel his heartbeat. 

Heat pooled in your stomach, you were getting anxious. Worse, you were starting to feel hot. Surely, you didn’t want Namjoon to feel you being all sweaty. 

“Namjoon…” You called, in hopes to wake him. 

No response. 

“Joon…” You called again. Although this time, you didn’t know where did you start picking up the nickname his family used. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” 

Again, you didn’t fail to notice the lack of hoarseness in his voice. So he had been awake for some time. 

Oddly enough, you were not uncomfortable. 

Actually, it was quite the opposite. 

“No.” You replied, simultaneously feeling his heartbeat getting faster in return. 

“It’s warmer like this.” He said. 

“You’re right.” 

Both of you stayed like that for almost two hours before getting up. Somehow sleeping in his arms felt natural. Too natural that it started to weird you out. The way your heart was acting up and the butterflies churning your stomach. Clearly something had shifted inside you. Whatever happened was so cliche, but you didn’t hate it. 

It did cause some unwanted changes in your life though. 

Now your dinner became awkward, as you could barely hold eye contact with your supposed husband. You avoid any communications even more than how it was before. You started to feel scared by your own thoughts. Creeping in your head like a disease. 

Deep down you always thought that Namjoon at least despised you, even just a little bit. After all, he knew how much your family benefited from your marriage. Even though he was never rude to you, a normal guy who was most importantly was your legal husband, would at least try to do something. The fact that in the whole six months that was all he ever did to you just proved how undesirable you were in his eyes. 

You had to scold yourself mentally for being a hormonal mess for even thinking like that. 

Tonight, Namjoon seemed tensed. The frown never left his face the whole dinner. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked cautiously.

He hesitated, then sighed. “Met my parents today.”

You looked at him cautiously. 

“They want to know why we still…” He trailed off, rubbing his temple. “Why we act like strangers in front of them. They even said that at this rate they were never gonna see any grandkids…”

Your throat tightened. “And what did you say?”

Namjoon looked at you then, his gaze unreadable. “I told them we were trying. At least we fooled the investors.”

Something about those words stung more than they should have.

You scoffed, trying to mask the hurt creeping into your voice. “Trying? That’s funny. Because to me, it still feels like we’re just pretending.”

Namjoon’s jaw tightened. “Is that really what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to think?!” Your voice was rising now, the emotions you had kept buried for months bubbling to the surface. “We’ve been married for six months, Namjoon. And we still act like this! Like two people who don’t know how to be in the same room without feeling awkward.”

His expression darkened, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I’ve been trying to make this easier for you.” He said, voice steady but firm. “I’ve respected your space. I’ve never forced you into anything. Now you’re mad because I didn’t push you harder???”

“That’s not what I’m saying…” You shot back, though you weren’t even sure what you were saying anymore. 

Namjoon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Then what are you saying?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Because the truth was, you didn’t know either. All you knew was that somewhere along the way, this had stopped feeling like a burden and started feeling like something much more complicated and you were terrified. 

So you did what you would usually do. The only way you knew to cope with this situation. 

“You wouldn’t marry me anyway if your parents didn’t threaten to shut down your collapsing art gallery.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything, only stood up and left without finishing his food. What you said technically was not a lie, but you still went out of the line. 

Things didn’t go back to normal after that night.

Namjoon was becoming distant, but not in the way he had been before. This wasn’t avoidance and restraint. Like he was holding something back, like he didn’t trust himself around you anymore. And you? You were no better. The way he looked at you that night right before he left, was still lingering in your memory. 

Instead of addressing it, you both fell into a new pattern. 

You both still had to go to a company’s daughter’s wedding. Despite the situation, it seemed like both of you were trained well to the point that you could act like the happiest couple in the world on command just like that. 

The celebration was held in this five-star hotel. Invitation list was long, so meeting an old acquaintance was bound to happen. 

Seojun was an old acquaintance, nothing more, but the moment he leaned in too closely, his hand brushing your arm as he laughed at something you had said, you felt a presence behind you shifted. You didn’t have to turn around to know Namjoon was watching.

When Seojun’s fingers skimmed over your wrist, guiding you toward the dance floor, you finally turned and locked eyes with your husband.

His jaw was tight, his fingers curled around his glass with barely concealed restraint. He seemed… angry. Not annoyed. Not indifferent. Angry. This was a first. 

Then he quickly disappeared into the crowd.

When you returned home, Namjoon was already there, tie discarded, sleeves rolled up. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at nothing in particular. You hesitated in the doorway, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

“So, are we going to talk about it?” You asked, carefully watching your tone. 

Namjoon let out a low breath. “Talk about what?”

You clenched your fists. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you weren’t—”

“Weren’t what?” He finally looked at you, eyes dark, unreadable. “Bothered? Jealous?” He scoffed. “You don’t want me to act like your husband, so why does it matter?”

Your heart pounded. “Because—”

“Because???” He took a slow step forward. “Say it.”

You couldn’t. Because saying it meant accepting that whatever this was between you wasn’t just circumstantial. It wasn’t just an arrangement anymore. So you did what you always did. You turned away.

But this time, Namjoon didn’t let you.

Before you could step past him, his fingers wrapped around your wrist. It wasn’t harsh, he just held it softly, demanding your attention.

“I don’t hate you.” He said quietly.

Your heart dropped.

“I never have.”

And just like that, the walls you had built started to crumble. 

You spent the night crying in your room. You were confused and mostly scared. You already knew what was becoming of you. You were not a little kid anymore, you knew exactly what you were feeling and why at this point. 

When in the morning you saw no tea was prepared for you, you quickly gave his room a knock. 

“Namjoon?” you asked softly. 

The door cracked open and he paused in the doorway, glancing at you before sighing deeply. His hair was messy and eyebags could be seen decorating his handsome features. “Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.” 

As you awkwardly sat on his bed, you couldn’t help but to look around. To think that this was the very first time you stepped in this room in over six months of living in this house. 

“I don’t know how to do this anymore.” His voice was quiet but firm, a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t place.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Do what?”

“This… Us.” His gaze dropped to the floor, his hands tightening into fists by his side. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t want more. I can’t keep pretending that everything we’ve been doing is enough.”

You held your breath, fear creeping into your chest as his words sank in. “Joon…”

“I don’t know how to do this right, but I want to. I don’t want to hold back anymore. I’m not asking you to be ready, but I need you to know that this…” He hesitated, his words heavy. “I feel like it’s real.”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. You just stared at him, letting his words wash over you. He was laying it out, raw and vulnerable, and you could feel the weight of it pressing against your chest.

“I don’t know what this means for us, or how this will turn out, but I’m tired of holding back. I need to know if you feel the same.” He said, his voice gentler now. 

You were quiet for a long time, every part of you torn between fear and something you couldn’t name. A desire for something more, something real.

“I don’t know if I’m ready either…” You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t pretend like I don’t feel it too.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened, his hand slowly reaching out toward you. You didn’t pull away this time. Instead, you let him touch your hand. The contact gave you shivers.

“I’m not asking for answers, I’m just asking you to take a chance with me.”

You felt the weight of his words, the sincerity behind them, and without realizing it, you found yourself leaning closer to him. You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew that for the first time, you were willing to find out.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the space between you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was hesitant at first, as though he was waiting for some sign from you. Then with a slow exhale you closed your eyes and leaned into him, returning the kiss with the same amount of passion. A tear escaped your left eye. His thumb was quick to swipe them away. 

“You’re not alone in this.” He said, hands still holding your face, as if you were to break if he ever let go. “Not anymore.”

And with that, you knew there was no going back. You had taken the leap. And now you would figure out the rest of this together.

Thank you for reading! 🖤

[myboybreakscoffins]

Who's The Real Winner?

valentine, february 14, @black-brothers-microfic — regulus & sirius black microfic — sibling rivalry, unrequited love (for now), mentions of jily, regulus’ pov — word count: 573

“How’s this year’s count going, Reggie?”

Regulus barely had time to step through the threshold behind the fruit bowl painting before his brother’s voice reached him. His social avoidance tactics were utterly useless when it came to Sirius—his brother always seemed to know exactly where to find him. If he didn’t trust his own spell detection skills so completely, he might have suspected Sirius of putting a tracking spell on him.

Rolling his eyes, Regulus kept walking toward the dungeons, making it clear he had no interest in indulging his brother’s nonsense. “Are we really doing this every Valentine’s Day?” he asked as soon as Sirius caught up, determined to get the conversation over with.

Regulus hated this day—especially when it meant being subjected to the sickeningly sweet public displays of affection from a certain new couple that he absolutely did not want to see. Ever. 

“Until it’s officially proven that I’m the more attractive brother,” Sirius replied, casually running a hand through his long black hair. “Or until one of us gets an actual valentine,” he added in a quieter voice. Then, with a smug grin, he continued, “Anyway, I got seven—three love letters, a rather vocal and terrifying confession right outside the greenhouse, and chocolate.” His voice practically dripped with satisfaction.

Oh, poor Sirius… 

Regulus smirked and, with deliberate ease, said, “Nine, dear brother—who is, regrettably, less attractive than me.”

Sirius’s reaction was, by far, the best poem Regulus had received that day. He allowed himself a moment to relish the obvious shock and embarrassment on his brother’s face, feeling immensely pleased with himself. Definitely, one of the great joys of having a sibling was being able to humiliate them at their own game.

The conceited Narcissus, drowned by his own reflection. Poetic.

“Well,” Sirius shot back, clearly unwilling to accept defeat, “at least I got chocolate from someone I actually like. And that’s worth three or four, so technically, I’m still ahead.”

Regulus froze mid-step.

Son of a fucking bitch.

Of course, his brother wouldn’t go down without a fight—and of course, he wouldn’t hesitate to go for the low blow if it gave him the slightest advantage. For someone who supposedly despised his family, that was very Black of him, really.

Sirius was well aware of his unrequited crush on James ‘Lily Evans’ Perfect Boyfriend’ Potter and it was an unspoken rule that neither of them would ever bring it up under any circumstances. 

And yet, here they were.

But fine, if Sirius wanted to play dirty, so be it.

Regulus arched a brow and said smoothly, “Are you sure the chocolate Lupin gave you wasn’t just out of courtesy?” He injected all the venom he could into the last word.

“IT WASN’T JUST COURTESY—” Sirius started, then abruptly cut himself off, realizing exactly what he’d just admitted.

Regulus nearly laughed, he didn't even have to make an effort.

With a slow, satisfied smile, he said, “If you say so… Though, for the record, Lupin also gave me chocolate this year—same as last.”

“REMUS DID WHAT?!” Sirius practically shrieked.

His idiot brother had just handed him victory on a silver platter. 

Regulus resumed his path toward the dungeons, smirking to himself.

“AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘SAME AS LAST YEAR’, REGULUS?”

“Exactly what I said, Sirius.” And, just to twist the knife a little deeper, he added over his shoulder, “It’s my win.” 

Sirius was left behind, completely bewildered.

[cherryshortycake]

Hi hi!! I heard your requests were open :D

I was wondering if you’d do a scenario with Bakugo where hyperfem!pastel and cutsie reader meets his family and their just confused of why someone who seems so pure wants to be with someone like Bakugou LOLOL

Thank you!! 💕

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ. ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴀɪɴꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɪᴅᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ.

♥ Summary: Bakugou Katsuki’s girlfriend (you), a sweet and hyperfeminine pastel girl with lots golden retriever vibes, meets his family for the first time. ♥

The door swung open, as Katsuki's sharp eyes immediately landed on you, waiting for him by the door with your usual soft smile. You're standing there in your light, pink-colored dress swirled with a tad of white, added with your sweater over top, that Katsuki got you for your birthday couple months ago. HE loved seeing you wear what he got you...

"Ready to meet my old hags, pipsqueak?" Katsuki's said, that held a rare tenderness as he adjusted his jacket. There was a slight, almost imperceptible frown on his face, one that couldn’t quite mask his nervousness. You knew him well, all the way down to his core.. he was nervous? You thought..

You not giving him any mind of his nickname to you, at this point you find comfort in it.. But you knew not to say anything about him being nervous. So you knew to play it off, maybe he can be more relieved?

“Yup! I can’t wait to meet them, Katsuki!" You chirped, practically jumping out your skin with excitement. It was a big moment—meeting the family. You tried to calm your bubbling energy with a deep breath, but that golden retriever energy you always exuded was too strong.

As you entered his home, the scent of warm food wafted in the air, and you felt a slight twinge of nervousness, but you quickly pushed it down. Katsuki’s mom was already in the living room, putting down her cup of lemonade on the coffee table, standing up to greet the two of you.

“Brat, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was this… colorful,” his mom said with an amused yet soft smile, referring to Katsuki. Eyes flickering to your pastel- look and the gentle aura you radiated. She wore a knowing look, one that said she was already sizing up the situation.

You bounced forward, your cheerfulness apparent in your every movement. "Hi! It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Bakugou! I love how cozy your house feels, Thank you for inviting me and welcoming me!"

His mom chuckled, a lighthearted sound that contrasted her son’s usual gruffness. "You're as sweet as Bakugou said, huh?" she said warmly, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, she’s pretty... different from me,” Bakugou mumbled, but there was a soft affection in his words that you caught off, and it made your heart flutter. You smiled at him brightly.

Bakugou's mom eyed you, then looked at her son with a slightly raised eyebrow. “So, you’re the one who's making my son act like a fool then?” She joked. You wonder what she means, as you raise your eyebrow.

"Old hag!" Bakugou huffed, his cheeks turning a soft pink, which you found absolutely adorable. You giggled, reaching up and squeezing his arm, showing him that it's okay. He looks down at you, you teased, winking at him. Your touch was light, caring, and full of affection.

His mom grinned at you, clearly enjoying the exchange the look her son gives you. “I can tell you two have a special bond. You’re... different and very precious, and I like you.” She placed a hand on her chin thoughtfully. “Though I do wonder what someone as pure as you see in a rough kid like him.”

You giggled again, a soft sound that was almost like the tinkling of chimes. “Well, he’s got a big heart! And I think he’s a little softie under all that spark,” you said with a wink, reaching up to gently ruffle Bakugou’s spiky hair, causing him to scowl but not pull away.

His mom raised an eyebrow at him, clearly amused by how embarrassed her son had become. “A softie, huh? You hear that, Katsuki?”

Bakugou grumbled but didn’t argue, clearly warmed by the affection in your words, despite his attempts to act tough. “Shut up…”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the playful back-and-forth. It made you feel at ease, even though you were technically meeting his family for the first time.

After a few minutes of more teasing, Bakugou’s dad joined in from the kitchen, setting down a tray of food. His expression was stoic, but his eyes softened when they landed on you.

“So, you’re the one making my boy act like a mess?” he asked, his deep voice holding a light tease. His dad seeming very gentle and kind.

You looked up at him, your smile unwavering. “Yes, sir! But in the best way! I promise, I’ll take good care of him!”

His dad nodded slowly, then his lips quirked into a small smile. “Well, as long as you don’t let him burn the house down again, I suppose you're all right.”

“That was one time, old man!” Bakugou exclaimed, his voice clearly both embarrassed and defensive.

“You’re lucky you’ve got someone who’ll put up with your antics, boy,” his dad added, patting Bakugou on the back with a little more force than necessary. Bakugou pouting at him, with piercing eyes. His dad gulped. Showing he's somewhat scared of his son still, what did he do as a kid to him?? you thought, causing to giggle.

Your eyes sparkled as you turned back to Bakugou. “Aww, you really are just a big softie, huh?” you cooed, making his ears turn a darker shade of red.

As the evening continued, you fit perfectly into the family dynamic, your positive energy filling the room. His mom even pulled you aside while Bakugou was in the kitchen.

“You know,” she said, looking at you seriously, “I can tell you care about him. He’s lucky to have you.” She gave you a smile, a hint of approval in her eyes. “Don’t let that rough exterior fool you. He’s got a good heart, and if you can bring it out, he’ll be a better man because of it.”

You blinked up at her, your eyes wide with sincerity. “Thank you! I’ll do my best, I promise.”

Bakugou’s mom gave you an approving nod before she patted your head gently, the softest of gestures that made you smile brightly. “I like you. You’re the right one for him.”

Just as Bakugou re-entered the room, his cheeks flushed from something his dad had said, his mom squeezed your shoulder affectionately. "You’ll do great, kiddo."

Bakugou’s grumbling continued, but there was no hiding the soft glow of happiness in his eyes as he met yours. You could tell from the way he held your hand, a little tighter than usual, that he was more than just pleased with how things went.

And as you all sat down to enjoy the meal together, laughter filling the room, you couldn’t help but feel that this was where you belonged—right there with him and his family.

But his father broke the silence, pushing up his glasses trying to be serious, "So son, about protection, y'all know safe se-" "MASURA!!!!!!!" "ENOUGH" Mitsuki screams, Bakugou screams. silence opens again, and you break it with a laugh causing his parents laughing, but Bakugou is still grumps about it looking away pouting, but you nudge his arm smiling causing him to give a soft half one back.

[thezombieprostitute]

Nurse Heartthrob

Summary: Your son is in the hospital and his nurse makes sure to take care of him and you.

Warnings: Ex-boyfriend angst, Hospital setting, Sick child. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Word Count: ~2.5k

As always, many thanks to @bigtreefest for her help with the medical stuff!

It's a phone call no parent ever wants to get. Your son, Val, had passed out on the playground and they were rushing him to the hospital. You let your boss know what was happening and drove out to the emergency room where the school said they'd sent him. Dr. Rogers was very reassuring about everything but insisted Val get admitted to pediatrics.

Given your son's medical history you were quick to agree. Val had been diagnosed with Long QT Syndrome just a few months after he was born. That was, apparently, the final straw for your ex-boyfriend, claiming he couldn't handle the responsibility of taking care of a sick child. Never mind that having a kid was his idea to begin with. Never mind that you'd already been doing most of the work. He left the two of you and, last you'd heard, he'd been hitting up younger women at the same bar where he'd met you.

For now, though, you had to focus on your son. The pediatrics nurse, Jake, was incredible. He had Val smiling and feeling at ease in minutes while also putting you at ease with his competency. Watching your baby getting IVs, shots, blood draws never got easier but, thankfully, Jake was proficient and you know Val's not hurting more needed. The doctor comes in, asking the usual questions. You always keep a folder of Val's medical history, always updating it with each appointment.

She looks over everything and finally says, "I agree Val should stay in the hospital for a bit but we don't have room in pediatrics. Thankfully there are a few open beds in cardiology and that'll make it easier to get Val the tests he needs."

You nod in understanding and the doctor gives Jake the go-ahead.

As he starts prepping the bed to move you ask, "how long do you think until someone takes us to cardiology?"

"I'm taking you now," he smiles.

"Aren't..aren't there designated nurses? Techs? Who move the beds between departments?"

"Normally, yes," Jake nods. "But my wife works in cardiology so they let me escort patients there so I can get a few minutes with her."

"That's sweet," Val pipes up. His voice is tired, weak, and it breaks your heart.

"It really is," you agree. You stuff down the jealousy you feel. It's clear Jake loves his wife and you really wish you had that for yourself.

Jake makes conversation easy throughout the walk. Val tells him about his latest Lego creation and he gets almost cartoonishly animated, making you and Val smile.

You know you've reached the cardiology wing when Jake stands up and waves, "Dr. Wifey! Over here!"

One of the doctors stops what she's doing, her face beaming with happiness, and walks over.

Following her is one of the biggest nurses you've ever seen. He's got a buzz cut, a slight beard, and eyes that look like a clear blue sky in winter. But his build, the tattoo covered arms especially, is making your own heart flutter.

"Dr. Wifey" introduces herself to you with her actual name, though you're certain you'll always think of her as "Dr. Wifey." She asks the nurse, Curtis, to take over pushing the bed so Jake can get back to pediatrics. While she looks at Jake affectionately, get actions and tone are professional, for which you're grateful. As cute as they are together, you can only stomach so much sweetness. Less so during times like this.

You get the impression that Curtis feels the same with how he rolls his eyes a little. He smiles at you and Val, introducing himself before taking over moving the bed. He and Jake banter a little and you're not sure if they're actually friends, if they're trying to make things easier for you and Val, or both. You hope it's both.

"Okay, Jake, we've gotta get Val to his room and you gotta get back to work," Dr. Wifey says with a kiss.

"Later, Nurse Puppy," Curtis waves as he starts moving the bed.

"See ya, Nurse Heartthrob," Jake returns as he starts walking back.

While Val is giggling at the banter you see Curtis turn pink, making you not ask about the nickname. Truth be told, the way your own heart reacted to him, you're pretty sure you already know the source.

Along the way Dr. Wifey is looking over Val's chart and praising your detailed, organized folder. Her questions are so much more relevant than some of Val's other appointments. You don't have to repeat information and her follow up questions show she's actually listening. It's a nice change of pace from the doctors who never seem to believe anything you tell them.

She asks some questions directly to Val about what he was doing right before he passed out. He shakes his head and says he was just sitting around at recess. You sense there's something he's not saying and encourage him to tell the whole truth, that he's safe.

"How about we start you off with a nap?" Dr. Wifey suggests. "You've had a long, scary day and could probably use the rest."

"Yes, please," Val pouts.

"Okay," you nod. "You get some rest and I'll run home and get our hospital bags, okay? The ones with Legos?"

"Thanks, Mom," Val smiles. You smile back and say a quick goodbye before heading out.

As soon as you're out of hearing range, Curtis turns to Val, "so what were you really doing? Get into a fight with some of the other kids or something?"

Val hesitates and Dr. Wifey adds, "patient doctor confidentiality, Val. Anything you tell me is just between us."

"I tried playing kickball," he confesses. "I know I'm not supposed to. That I have be careful with my heart. But it looked like fun!"

Curtis feels his heart wrench at that. He just wants to be a kid, but because of some inherited disorder, he can't even run around.

"Why didn't you want to say anything in front of your mother?" Dr. Wifey follows up.

"Because I don't want her to get upset."

"Upset?" Curtis raises an eyebrow, immediately on guard for something horrible.

"She cries so much," Val tells whispers. "Sometimes, when she thinks I'm asleep, I'll hear her crying about wishing she could give me a normal life. I don't want her crying because I tried to play."

Curtis fights to keep himself under control. If the kickball comment wrenched his heart, this was a punch to the gut.

"She sounds like a good mom," Dr. Wifey chimes in. Curtis recognizes the emotion in her voice. Val only nods in response.

"She said the hospital bag included Legos?" Curtis chimes in.

"Yeah," Val smiles softly. "They're fun and...and normal. They help me play while not hurting my heart."

"They're definitely fun," Curtis agrees. "When you get them, can I play with them a little? I could use the diversion during my shift."

Val's smile widens, "yeah. That sounds good."

As you park in the hospital parking lot for the second time that day, you take a minute to steady yourself. You know the nap suggestion was a ploy so they could ask Val questions without having you answer for him. Normally they wait until they start doing tests but Val probably could use the rest. Maybe it was so the doctor could get some more time to look over Val's history and not duplicate any needless tests. You only hope Val finally told them something so they can take care of him properly. It's killing you that Val thinks he needs to keep secrets from you, but you suppose it's part of what happens as kids get older.

You'd been so distracted on your way last time you'd forgotten to make note of the directions to Val's bed, so you stopped at the Nurses' Station.

"Oh, Val's your kid!" Teresa, the nurse, comments. "He's such a sweetie!"

"Thank you," you smile.

"He and Nurse Heartthrob have become fast friends, too."

"Nurse Heartthrob?" Though you'd heard the nickname before, you thought it was between Curtis and Jake.

"We call him that because his appearance always makes the patients' heart rates spike," she chuckles. "He's quite the looker. Have you seen those arms?"

"I have," you half smile. "Trying not to, though. Guy that looks like him has to have a partner or something already."

She sighs, "I know. As far as we can tell he's single, but no one knows for certain. He just says he doesn't date coworkers which, honestly, don't blame him. A few girls were tempted to switch to other parts of the hospital."

That makes you chuckle. "It's nice to know I'm not the only one who's got trouble getting a date with a hottie."

"As much as I'm enjoying the compliments," Curtis's voice interrupts you, "how about I lead you to Val's room?"

Teresa's eyes widen almost as much as yours. You cough from surprise, your face heated with embarrassment. Who knew such a large man could move so quietly? Or maybe you're just that tired.

When you get your bearings you turn to Curtis, "yes, please. Thank you." When you're far enough away from the Nurses' Station you apologize. "I'm sorry about that conversation. I...should have been more respectful."

Curtis shakes his head, "not the first time I've heard something like it. Probably won't be the last."

"Still, I feel like I should be past the whole high school thing."

"Lotta people should be but aren't. You get used to it, especially in a hospital."

"I suppose people who work your kind of job do need whatever outlets they can get."

Curtis nods. "For a lot of nurses it's the gossip, the trash tv. Other times it's meditation or yoga. Stuff you don't have to think about. Lets you keep your mental energy for the patients."

"Can I ask what your outlet is?"

"Only if I can ask you a question about you and Val."

"Sure."

Curtis stops walking and leans in, conspiratorially. "My outlet is junk food. It means I have to spend a ton of time in the gym, but I'm addicted to those thousand-plus-calorie snacks and fast food. It's food I don't have to cook, don't have to worry about clean up, and it gives me the energy I need for the day."

"I can relate," you nod, smiling. "With Val's health we always have to be careful with what we eat but sometimes I'll treat myself to something on my way to work."

Curtis smiles and you feel your heart speed up. "I'm glad you treat yourself from time to time. From what Val's told us, you work really hard to take care of him."

Your smile drops, "he's my world. Such a good kid who never asked for any of this."

"But that also leads me to my question, what's the story behind Val's...Y chromosome contributor?"

"I gotta remember that one," you snort. "Last I heard, the contributor is at a bar he's way too old for hitting on women who are way too young. He swore up and down that having a kid would be great for us, that it was his life's dream to have a child. Then, when Val was diagnosed, he bailed saying he couldn't handle the pressure or something."

"Well that's bullshit," Curtis scoffs. "How much did you tell Val?"

"I told Val his 'dad' is a liar who doesn't deserve us. That he lied about being faithful to the two of us. It's enough of the truth without Val needing to worry about his health being the reason he doesn't have a dad like so many other kids."

"Your secret is safe with me," Curtis says in such a way that you believe him.

"Thank you."

"By the way, you have two hospital bags for Val? Is one of them just for his toys or something?"

"One of them is for me," you explain. "I still need to work, but I can spend all my non-work time here with him. Got myself some toiletries, a phone charger for my books, a couple changes of clothing, all that."

Curtis just nods, silently wishing more patients had someone willing to stick around for them.

When you get to Val's bed he's sleeping soundly. You're careful to get things settled so that you don't wake him. You put his latest Lego creation on the patient table so he can see it when he wakes up. You called his school while you were getting the bags and they promised to have materials for you so you can keep up his lessons.

Throughout the week, every time Curtis arrives to work, he makes sure to get you a coffee. He says it's the free stuff from the break room. You have no idea he's buying you the better stuff from the cafe and pouring it into one of the generic cups from the coffee dispenser. Some of his coworkers give him questioning looks but he pretends he doesn't see; he's not entirely sure why he's doing it either.

Sometimes when you get to the hospital after work, you'll catch Curtis and Val playing with his Legos. It warms your heart to see Val smile and laugh so much. Even when he sleeps, he's smiling. It makes you wonder if you should try getting back into dating, giving Val someone else who cares for him. Giving yourself someone who cares for you. You're not sure anyone could compare to Curtis, but that's not really a fair comparison to begin with. It's his job to be caring and supporting. To check in on you and Val. Besides, someone like him can do much better than a single mother with a sick kid.

The morning before Val gets released to go home, you go for a drive to the nearest McDonald's and order some of the worst sounding foods you see.

Back at the hospital, you spot Curtis and hand him the bag. "Just a small thank you for taking care of me and Val so much."

Curtis feels his mouth watering at the smell of the food. It's such a big bag, too! He smiles, "any time. And, uh, if it's not too forward, can I give you my number? In case you or Val need some help?"

Your eyes soften and Curtis feels his heart lurch, worried he overstepped. "I can't ask that of you, Curtis. You have such a taxing job already. You don't need to work outside of the hospital, too."

"I wouldn't consider it work," he tells you. "I'd consider it...getting to know someone better? Someone I'm...I'm interested in getting to know better?"

"Oh? Oh!" you exclaim as your eyes widen. "You...you really mean that?"

His eyes soften as he smiles. "Yeah, I mean it."

"Thank you, Curtis. I'm looking forward to calling you."

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[maelstrom-of-emotions]

Fluffy, Wangxian fic idea. (For Once)

So, this was inspired by the text post I made yesterday for the Wangxian family—one, I'm pretty sure someone already did, but unashamedly did anyway; you can never have too much Wangxian, after all, as the saying goes—and it was sitting in the well-worn (and sometimes, loved) backseat of my mind for a while and then I was watching Bluey before bed, and it set the ember aglow. 

I wanted to cocoon Wangxian in warmth, for once. Something soft and tender, this time around. And I was like, hey, can I turn this text post into something of a mini fic? Can this be something more? So I shot a text to @xiaokuer-schmetterling and just like that, the idea took flight.  @xiaokuer-schmetterling, enabler of dreams (and unhinged ideas), king among mortals, fueled the fire with unwavering encouragement, and now, here it is—no longer a fleeting thought but something tangible, something that breathes.

Modern Wangxian AU which starts Lan Wangji being tackle-hugged by his family, laughing and golden in the sunlight. Feeling so impossibly grateful like the sappy man he is, where the gods feel close and love is as simple as reaching out a hand and finding one reaching back. Content. Loved. Happy. And he stumbles through the door and finds the walls - gleaming and shining - decorated with tiny little handprints all in different colors, a chaotic mural of sorts. 

“Why are there little handprints on the walls?” Lan Wangji asks, because, with Wei Wuxian, it could be anything. And it usually, is how trouble — though, a far more fonder, softer version of the word — begins.

His Wei Ying shrugs, before kneeling down to a-Yuan, who looks terribly shy and so unfathomably adorable in his little light-up sneakers and white, bunny jacket (with floppy bunny ears on the hood) and wringing his little hands together. He is so small, so precious, Lan Zhan wishes he could carry him around in his pocket always. There is a reason two pockets were invented for coat jackets, after all — one for his husband and one for his son. 

a-Yuan nervously wrings his hands tighter,  but Wei Ying’s voice is gentle and pretty, unbearably so, even as he whispers, “Why are there little handprints on the walls?”

It is a stage whisper. Lan Wangji hears it as clear as a crisp, summer day, but Lan Wangji is used to the (endearing) antics of his husband, and so he plays along, as he always does. Fondly. 

a-Yuan, who only months ago had been a trembling thing, skittish and afraid, peeks up at Wei Ying, solemn as the moon. “Because I have little hands.” And he lifts them, as if in proof. 

Wei Ying nods at them, equally grave. He rises, and a-Yuan immediately rushes to cling to his pant leg. Wei Ying ruffles his hair, soft from yesterday’s bath, still carrying the faint scent of calendula. Then, his voice still as grave as it was before, he turns to Lan Wangji. “Because he has little hands.”

a-Yuan raises them again, this time, to show Lan Wangji. 

Lan Wangji looks at them, serious, thoughtful. “Mn,” he says at last. A slow smile unfurls across his lips. He nods his head at the handprints. “Well. They look lonely.”

And so they add their own. Hands dipped in paint, pressed against the walls, an unspoken promise sealed in color. This is not just play—this is permanence, a claim, a declaration. A home built not of bricks and beams, but of belonging.

And later, when the night quiets, when A-Yuan sleeps safe and small beneath the covers, his hands no longer trembling, Wei Ying will turn to him, eyes too bright, too full, and Lan Wangji will understand, as he always does.

This is it. This is the moment.

For a-Yuan, who once flinched at raised voices and curled in on himself when the world seemed too big, who now paints walls with fearless little hands and tugs at Lan Wangji’s sleeve with the easy, thoughtless trust of a child who knows they will be caught. For a boy who had known only instability, who had been shuffled from house to house with no roots to anchor him—this is proof that he is wanted. That he can take up space without fear. That his existence does not come with conditions.

For Wei Wuxian, who had taken one look at a bright-eyed boy chasing a bunny plush across a too-crowded orphanage and felt something crack wide open in his chest, an instinct, something older than words—this is devastation of the best kind. This is undoing and remaking. This is ensuring that no other child suffers a hollowed-out boyhood the way he did. This is his heart, raw and aching, spilling over with love too vast to contain. With so many people to give it to. 

For Lan Wangji, who will be there, always. Who will feed the ducks because Wei Ying asks him to, who will wear hideous sweaters because Wei Ying knits them, who will stare down anyone who dares to scoff at Wei Ying’s art—and make sure they never do it again. To Lan Wangji, this is everything. He had known, from that fateful day in the park, when Wei Ying knelt and reached out a hand, that their guest room would never be a guest room again. That his uncle would be a great-uncle. That he would love this child as his own, with all that he is, with all that he will ever be.

If fate was a loom, perhaps a younger Lan Wangji would have woven himself a quieter life. A simple, unobtrusive thread, neat and pale. But this thread was spun golden, and it glittered in the sun, bright and unashamed. And Lan Wangji—

Lan Wangji has always reached for the light.

I feel like I get more incoherent with every post I make, for some reason. Lemme know what you think!

@xiaokuer-schmetterling, @undercover-stories, @sun-ashes, I am suffering. This is my 117th W.I.P. Grace me with some of your holy wisdom. Have mercy on the child. :((((