#he’s the most awkward and yet comfort character ever I love him

[voilaammayi]

john watson appreciation text posts collection:

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

An analysis on how Sir Pentious' character design represents his personality and development perfectly (beware of Hazbin Hotel spoilers)

Let's get this out of the way: Sir Pentious is a snake, an animal mostly known for generally believed negative traits such as poison, deceit and betrayal. We don't know WHY he's in Hell, maybe he was a "snake oil salesman" considering he comes from the Victorian times and he's into hyping up what he does, or maybe he was into war. Thing is, he's a Sinner whose design just scream "Evil".

(BTW, a snake could also represent "fertility": looking at you, Egg Boiz!)

He always had eyes all around him not just because of a stylistic choice.

Sir Pentious always felt like he was watched, and had to watch out for any danger.

"Everyone here is too nice: obviously it must be a lie! I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when?! HOW?! I must be PREPARED!"

Sadly, he's been constantly berated by other demons, far more effective in destruction, status, cruelty and charisma. Alastor won't ever bother to remember him, Cherri always ones up him, and the Vs, the ones he admires to most, won't care less about him.

To the point that Vox sent him as a spy without the intention to save him if things were going to fail. Heck, he even openly tells him to die while calling him a failure.

So of course he's got reasons to have trust issues, or taking everything so seriously, being constantly reminded of what he can't accomplish. So he puts an air of grandure that may be very flamboyant, but is VERY frail.

But, if we have to be frank here, his biggest source of insecurities... is himself.

He has eyes on his tail (his softer, more vulnerable side, which is ironically made even MORE lieable to getting hurt because of how sensitive those organs are), and inside his hood, so he could look out better for danger when on alert mode.

Heck, even the mark on his hood kinda resembles one eye.

Problem is, when you see his hood folded, when he's at ease, neutral or sad, those are not looking at outside sources.

They're looking at him, at his back. A constant stare that happens everytime he lets his guard down and shows how vulnerable he is. A gaze that can sense all of his weakness, his struggles, his insecurities.

And it's all him.

Pentious constantly believes that his inferiority complex will fade away once he'll accomplish something grand that will make others accept him. But he is his biggest critic, his worst enemy: HE is the one who believes he's a failure, that he'll never gain approval from others.

This show takes place in Hell, but this is Sir Pentious' personal Hell: insecurity born out of self hatred. Doomed to feel everyone's gaze upon him, including his own. Believing the danger to his self esteem is from others, when it's really from him.

But then he's accepted at the Hazbin Hotel: Charlie forgives him, he bonds with Angel, Husk and Niffty who don't care a bit about what he's accomplished or not, or what he's done in the past.

He feels more comfortable in showing his vulnerable side, and no one judges him for how easy it is for him to get emotional.

Of course he's still very insecure, considering how he struggles to confess to Cherri, but notice how he stops building machines or planning to attack others as soon as he starts bonding with the others: he doesn't have a reason to destroy or attack, now that he knows he's loved.

And his final design, when he goes to Heaven, shows how much he's changed, yet stayed the same. He may have died a hero, but he's still the same awkward snake we've come to love.

Speaking of love, let's talk about that!

No more eyes on his tail, now it's just on his chest (showing he's opened his heart), his glasses are now heart shaped, and even the markings inside his hood resemble kiss marks more than anything else.

And look: the mark on his hood is now heart shaped!

Why all these hearts? Why did all the eyes disappeared from his body? Even his eyes that were looking at his back?

Simple: love. Love defeated his insecurities and self hatred. He died for love.

He died protecting his friends, his new family, his new home.

He confessed and kissed Cherri knowing full well he wouldn't have made it, and yet he went anyway.

The usually cowardly and timid Pentious actually faced a great danger with courage and determination: he acted selflessly by putting himself in harm's way, he didn't steal (naturally) and by going against Adam he did indeed "stick it to the man"!

He used his weaponry knowhow and battle experience not to conquer, but to save his loved ones.

His only thought up until his demise was: "I'll go down protecting them".

And he's been rewarded not only by becoming an angel, but also being spawned directly in front of Emily and Sera, two Seraphim, the highest rank for an angel to have, who have also been depicted as snakes of fire throughout history! Sir Pentious, the lowly demon considered a failure by everyone, actually has been noticed by the Seraphim! He's come so far!

He's now come to represent the REAL symbolism of a snake: the duality of death and rebirth, transformation and immortality (ironically a reference to the fact he's been around since 1888 without ever dying from any Extermination or blessed weapons).

And isn't so poetic that a snake, the "source of the original evil", was the first sinner to ascend to Heaven? Or that this episode was released on February 1st, or National Serpent Day?

And of course, as the Bible itself says:

"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends."

(John 15:13)

And knowing him, I'm confident in saying he'll keep helping his friends even in his new position, like the soft hearted noodle he's always been, but was to afraid to show it up until now.

[birdiewritessometimes]

ellooo I love your writing smm and I was hoping I could request a Mattheo riddle or Theo Nott x hufflepuff reader (which ever you decide) I feel like you can create a cute fluffy story with either of them being so soft for the reader (or whatever direction you want to take this towards)ㅤ ᵕ̈

Magical Matchmaker

A/N: Hii! Thank you so much for reading my writing and liking it <3 I’m sorry for the wait, I actually started this one before you sent in the request and it fit perfectly together. I’m sorry you had to wait so long for it though but I hope I’m making up for it in length! I shit you not, Archie is based on my cat and he loved toe bean massage! Also I promise I don’t hate Draco he’s just a perfect character to show how the slytherin boys values people I guess. Also, also, Slytherin boys + astronomy tower = <3 Btw its always Cormac who is an annoying ass…

Archie is my first cute little oc, he might make appearances later on in other stories since i love him so much <3

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!reader

Themes/warnings: Fluff, fighting, blood, smoking, that’s all I could think of, please let me know if there’s more

Word count: 7500-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

The soft rumble of the train could be heard as you walked through the train corridor. You were holding your cat, Archimedes, in your arms. The black cat was comfortably asleep as you searched the compartments for your friends, Hannah Abbott and Megan Jones. The train had just left the station around five minutes ago, yet you can’t seem to find your friends anywhere. Archimedes awoke when you stopped at one compartment to peer inside for your friends. Inside sat a group of boys, known for starting fights, talking back to teachers and just being trouble in general, most students were wary of them. They were in your year, all in Slytherin. In your time at Hogwarts, you had managed to stay clear of their radar. That all came to change the moment Archimedes jumped out of your arms and sneaked into the loud boys’ compartment. Your blood ran cold when you saw him jump up in one of the boys’ lap. You prepared yourself to go in there to apologise but you stopped when you saw how the curly haired boy gently petted Archimedes’ head, a smile on his face.

“Oi, where did that cat come from?” One of the boys, you recognised him as Blaise Zabini, he was known as a flirt, asked. The boy who held your cat in his lap was Mattheo Riddle, he was known as the intimidating, scary boy most people feared. The other two boys were Theodore Nott, the quiet one, and Lorenzo Berkshire, the sweet one in the group. You saw how Lorenzo leaned over to pet Archimedes.

“He is so cute.” He said as he also petted your cat. You saw how Mattheo swatted his hand away a playful frown on his face.

“Hey, he came to me, back of Enzo.” You heard him mutter irritably before continuing to pet Archimedes’ head gently. The scene in front of you made you smile; it almost made you forget who you were staring at. They looked so innocent as they surveyed Archimedes. Mattheo had a soft smile on his face while Lorenzo had a mischievous one, continuously trying to pet him. Theodore was chuckling at the scene while Blaise was grinning widely. Realising the situation you gently knocked on the door before sliding it open so you could stand in the doorway. All four boys snapped their eyes towards you, tearing their eyes from your cat. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Hi, uh, I’m sorry, Archimedes, my cat sneaked in here…” You trailed off, feeling more awkward by the second as they just stared at you, Mattheo still petting your very content cat’s head.

“Y/n, right? I didn’t know you had a cat.” Theodore cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed. You let out an awkward chuckle, the whole situation made you feel out of place. Like you had intruded and, in some way, you suppose you did. But you didn’t want to lose Archimedes on the train, he was a pain to find again, since he was deaf.

“Yep, since first year.” You confirmed, you could feel an amused smile make its way to your face at the awkward situation. They were looking at you like they have never seen you before, or like you were some sort of alien. Your eyes travelled to the curly haired boy who you’re your cat. He looked like he would rather die than to let you have Archimedes back.

“Y/n? You’re a Hufflepuff right?” Lorenzo asked, giving you a kind smile, probably trying to ease the weird atmosphere, which you returned.

“Yep, also since first year.” You chuckled, making him chuckle too. You saw that the rest of the group smiled at you too, except for Mattheo.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth that he really is yours?” Mattheo asked suspiciously, you let out a chuckle again at him. His eyebrow shifted upwards as he gave you a suspecting look. You nodded at your cat’s collar.

“Check his collar, his name, my name and my address are on there.” You said, now feeling amused at the situation. It seemed like Mattheo was trying to stall giving him back to you. You saw how Mattheo gently checked the tag on Archimedes’ collar, a frown on his face.

“Archimedes, y/n l/n, 71 The Green, London.” He mumbled, a sulking look on his face, this made you let out a giggle. Deciding to tune in with your kindness, that Hufflepuffs valued so much, you decided to let him cuddle Archimedes for the train ride.

“You’re welcome to cuddle him if you’d like, but do you mind if I sit then? I don’t want to lose him.” You said, but you realised your mistake as the words left your mouth. Mattheos eyebrows shot up in a questioning manner.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean that I don’t trust you with him, it’s just that he is, uh, deaf, so I don’t want to leave him on the train.” You rambled, feeling more embarrassed by the second. Mattheo’s face went back to normal, as he didn’t bother to answer you. You saw how Lorenzo and Theodore made space for you to sit next to them, to which you smiled and sat down. You saw how Mattheo lifted your cat, so they were face to face, Archimedes purring loudly.

“So, you’re deaf huh? And you have a silly name.” He muttered to your cat.

“Hey, my son doesn’t have a silly name! It’s cute.” You said defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. This made the group chuckle and Mattheo to look past Archimedes and at you, an eyebrow raised in mock questioning.

“Damn, I didn’t know that you were a MILF, y/n.” Blaise said, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah- wait- I- no, what?” You stuttered out, completely taken aback by his comment. Mattheo let your cat back down on his lap before he whacked Blaise over the back of the head with a loud ‘smack’.

“Behave.” He muttered irritably.

“Don’t mind Blaise, his mum dropped him on his head when he was a baby.” Theodore mumbled from beside Lorenzo on the stuffy train seat that you now shared. You gave him a grateful smile as a reply before letting out a short laugh at his comment.

“Where did the name Archimedes come from anyways?” Mattheo asked nonchalantly, the question made a blush rise on your cheeks.

“Oh, my favourite film when I was little was the muggle film about king Arthur, it’s called the sword in the stone. Well, Merlin’s owl was called Archimedes in the movie, and I thought it was cute.” You explained which earned you a chuckle from the group.

“So not even like from the famous muggle guy? But like from a film?” Lorenzo said, a teasing tone in his voice. The question made you let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Well, I was never into maths when I was little, just magic I guess, I failed maths every year I had to take it in muggle school.” You shrugged, not even thinking about the confession you just made.

“So, you’re muggleborn?” Theodore asked lightly, but the question was loaded, considering what some people, mostly Slytherins, thought about muggleborns. You felt slightly nervous due to the fact that you know whose son sat in front of you. Now you have never heard him utter as much as one bad word against muggleborns, but he did surround himself with pureblood wizards.

“Uh, yeah, that a problem?” You asked, suspicion in your voice at the question. Theodore must have realised his mistake because his eyes widened in panic.

“Wait, no, of course not, we don’t care, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean the question like that.” He apologised.

“Don’t worry, we’re not like Malfoy, we don’t care who your family is.” Lorenzo added, a gentle smile on his face. You looked at Blaise and Mattheo who nodded, a gentle expression on Mattheo’s face. It took you aback at first before a small smile broke out on your face.

“Good, because I think we will see a lot more of each other.” You said, brightness back in your voice. The boys gave you a look of confusion.

“Because Archimedes obviously likes you.” You said as a matter of fact, an answer to their questioning looks. They let out a chuckle and hummed in agreement. The boys then started talking about their summers on the ride back to school. They discussed what they did during summer and the excitement for the quidditch season to begin. At one point Blaise asked you to switch places, Lorenzo and Theodore was going to show him pictures from the national quidditch match that they went to during the summer. As you sat next to Mattheo you could feel his cologne hit your nose, he smelled rich with a hint of cigarettes and mint. Archimedes was asleep on his lap, but when you sat down your cat stretched out, so he was laying on his side and had one paw on your leg. With a small smile you massaged his paw. You heard Mattheo let out a chuckle making you look up at him. He was looking at your cat, amusement in his eyes.

“He is really something isn’t he?” He muttered as he stroked the sleek black fur on Archimedes side. His silver rings contrasting against the dark fur on your cat.

“He is the best.” You answered softly as your eyes shifted from his face to his warm brown eyes. You had never really realised how attractive he was before. But when he had this soft half smile on his face and that soft look in his eyes when he looked at Archimedes made you realise why half the female population at school have or at least have had a crush on him. His eyes snapped to yours as you were studying his face. A crease appeared between his eyebrows as he surveyed you.

“You’re not scared of me.” It wasn’t a question. His statement made you smile, because if someone asked you how you felt about Mattheo before this you would’ve said that he made you nervous at least. But now he didn’t. You shook your head at his question.

“Why, should I be?” You asked in a teasing voice. You saw a teasing smile, an actual full smile, make its way onto his face.

“I don’t think so, but then that wouldn’t go with the whole 'scary aura' I have going on.” He answered with a small chuckle. He did quotation marks around the two words most of the student body used to describe him. You could feel a grin break out on your face at his smile.

“So, he can smile.” You teased, what gave you the confidence you don’t know, maybe it was the relaxed atmosphere in his group of friends or was it just the fact that he smiled at you. It was a testament to the fact that he wasn’t always scary or serious.

“Shut up.” He muttered as he tried to supress his smile, but to no avail.

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’ll notice if you get to know me that I am a yapper, I yap about everything.” You beamed up at him. He let out a chuckle at that.

“Really, about everything huh?” He asked, a smirk on his face to which you let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, everything, like the fact that cats are obviously so much better than owls, and that quidditch is a weird sport and that my favourite colour is copper, that my favourite condiment is ketchup, and, oh you’re laughing at me, but I can go on all night.” You giggled as Mattheo let out a chuckle at your ramble.

“Wait, you think quidditch is weird?” He realised what you had rambled about, you nodded at his question.

“Why?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face. The two of you were so engrossed in your conversation that you stopped noticing what the others talked about, they had switched their topic to the two of you.

“What do you recon? I think he likes her.” Blaise muttered to Lorenzo who was sitting in the middle.

“She obviously likes him, look at how she is looking at him.” Lorenzo added.

“Do you think the cat knows something about this, I mean he led her to him in the first place?” Theodore asked suspiciously. At that moment Archimedes lifted his head from Mattheo’s hand, just as if he had heard him, and blinked slowly at the three boys on the seat opposite him.

“No fucking way.” Blaise said to which Lorenzo and Theodore nodded stunned.

“What’s not weird about quidditch?” You asked at the same time as the conversation between the other took place.

“What’s weird about it?” Mattheo countered.

“It’s a sport you play on broomsticks, it has no time limit, you beat balls at each other, come on Mattheo, you have to admit that that’s weird.” You gestured as you tried to get your point across.

“Oh, I think that’s perfectly normal.” He argued which made you let out a laugh.

“You’re only saying that for the arguments sake.” You said with a laugh, Mattheo let out a laugh of his own at this.

“Are we having our first argument as friends?” He asked, a teasing note in his voice.

“Hmm, I don’t know, are we friends?” You teased back. Mattheo reacted to this by placing his hand over where his heart is, in mock hurt.

“You wound me, love.” You felt a blush rise to your cheeks in record time at the nickname.

“I- uh, what?” You let out in your flustered state as your eyes shifted from his to your cat that still laid in his lap. You felt a finger poke your cheek.

“You’re cute when you blush, princess.” He said, really stressing the princess-part. You swatted his finger away, despite your flustered state.

“Oh, shut up Mattheo.” You laughed and what you didn’t see, but the three boys opposite you in the compartment noticed was the gentle smile on Mattheo’s face as he watched you laugh. It was softer than it usually was. The cold stare and frown that his face usually consisted of were replaced by a soft smile and gentle eyes. The same look he had when he saw Archimedes for the first time just hours ago. Time went by quickly on the Hogwarts express and before you knew it you found yourself on the platform moving along with the boys towards the carriages. As you walked, Archimedes in your arms once again, you tried looking for your two friends. You couldn’t see them anywhere on the platform. You felt an arm around your body as you walked, you looked to the side and found Mattheo by your side, leading you through the crowd to follow his friends.

“Come on, you can find your friends at the castle, when there isn’t that much chaos.” He muttered in your ear. You felt the blush rise to your cheeks once again, this time because of his proximity. Before you knew it you reached the carriages and you felt Mattheo’s warm hand on your back as you climbed up the small steps, Archimedes still in your arms. You felt hot, despite the cold evening air that swept around you.

“You okay y/n?” Theodore asked when he saw your face. The carriage started moving towards the castle after Mattheo had entered.

“Yeah, you look a bit red, are you cold?” Lorenzo asked, genuine concern on his face. If he only knew that you were feeling everything but cold. You dared to take a peak at Mattheo who was wearing a small smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat and directed a grateful smile at Theodore and Lorenzo before directing a glare at Mattheo, who sent you a wink in return. The rest of the ride up to the castle consisted of the boys talking loudly with each other. Playful insults and banter were thrown around along with the occasional joke which made the atmosphere lively and fun. As the carriage came to a stop before the entrance the boys all got out. When it was your turn you saw that Mattheo was standing by the entrance, ready to help you down. You sent him a grateful smile but before you could even as much as take a step down, he had grabbed you around the waist and swiftly lifted you down to the ground leaving you speechless. You could hear how the others tried to keep in their laughter as they saw your stunned face.

“I- they- they should call you the flirty one, not Blaise!” You let out when you came back to your senses, this was the thing that made the others burst out laughing, Mattheo full on grinning at you.

“What? I’m just being friendly.” Mattheo said innocently making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Oh, shut up, darling.” You said the pet name sarcastically before you slowly started to make your way into the castle, leaving the boys outside.

“See you later, love!” Mattheo shouted after you, a grin on his face, his friends still chuckling. When you entered the castle, you let Archimedes go to do some exploring, knowing that he will always be in your bed by night. You entered the great hall and saw the usual enchanted ceiling that hovered over the four house tables. The Hufflepuff one was one of the tables in the middle, next to the Slytherin table on the left and the Ravenclaw table on the right. Right next to the Ravenclaw table was the Gryffindor table. You found your friends; they were seated in the middle of the table. You ran over to them with excitement as they stood up and embraced you in a group hug. Hannah was on the Hufflepuff quidditch team as you and Megan chose to focus more on your academics. Not that Hannah wasn’t good in school, she was brilliant, she just chose to focus more on sports. The three of you sat down and caught up with each other, about how your summers were and what subjects you were excited about. After the sorting you talked, laughed and ate with your friends, completely forgetting to fill them in on your train ride here. With your bellies full you and your friends made your way down to the Hufflepuff common room and to your dorms. You were quiet with tiredness as you got ready for bed. You were out before your head even hit the pillow, Archimedes comfortably asleep on the extra pillow on your bed by your head.

The first day back went by quickly and before you knew it you were doing your homework in the great hall with Hannah and Megan as you waited for dinner. Archimedes were sitting on the bench next to you, extremely interested in the movements of your quill. You were working on an essay for defence against the dark arts, two rolls of parchment on how to identify and protect yourself from a kelpie, a water demon who looks like a horse. While you were thinking of how to write your next paragraph you looked up from your work. Your eyes searched the room, like they seemed to do automatically since you’ve been back, until they met the copper brown eyes of Mattheo. You have found yourself looking for him in every room you entered since you met him. You sat there looking at each other for a moment. You sent him a soft smile, which he replied with one of his soft looks. You felt a blush rise to your cheek as you broke your eye contact, just after you saw the slight smirk on his face. It seemed like Archimedes noticed Mattheo too, because with a sound that sounded like a pigeon he jumped off the bench and dashed over to Mattheo and his friends. You smiled when you saw how your cat head butted Mattheo’s arm, begging for attention. You saw how Mattheo smiled and lifted your cat up on the table so he could pet him easier while he talked to his friends. Archimedes looked at you for a long while before curling up in front of Mattheo.

Over the next couple of days you noticed that whenever Mattheo was close by Archimedes would run to him, begging for attention. All while staring at you. You assumed it was because he really liked the boy, but you couldn’t lie, it hurt a little that the cat you nursed since he was a kitten chose a boy he had just met over you. It was Friday night, after dinner, you were relaxing in your dorm when your cat tried to get you to follow him, so you did. Archimedes was walking hurriedly along the corridors of the castle. He was leading you up multiple stairs, through passageways and along corridors. Soon enough you found yourself at the foot of the stairs that led up to the astronomy tower. You looked suspiciously at your cat who had started to climb the stairs.

“Archie, are you sure about this? It feels like you’re trying to trick me.” You muttered but started to walk up the stairs anyway. You followed your cat up the stairs in silence but when you neared the top Archimedes started running up the stairs.

“Archie, wait!” You shouted, as if he could hear you. When you reached the top of the stairs you stopped. There was Mattheo standing by the rail, curls windswept, looking cozy in a sweater and your cat was stroking his body along his legs. Mattheo was smoking a cigarette as he looked at your cat stunned, before shifting his eyes to you.

“How did he know I was here?” He asked you, confusion in his voice. You looked at him bewildered.

“I have no idea; he dragged me out of my dorm for this.” You said, confusion in your voice too. Mattheo beckoned you to come closer and your body moved before you could think.

“Could you hold this for me?” He asked as he stuck his cigarette out for you to hold. You took it awkwardly and held it between your index and thumb as Mattheo removed his sweatshirt. You saw how he folded up the material and placed it by the castle wall. In an instant Archimedes was lying on it, looking extremely content. You felt a soft smile form on your face when you watched how the boy cared for your cat.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You said softly as you stared at the boy in front of you. He let out a chuckle as he took his cigarette back.

“I take it that you don’t know that your cat seems to be obsessed with my sweaters, I’ve found him in my sweatshirt drawer like three times this week.” He said with a chuckle. You let out a startled laugh

“What? No, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry Mattheo, I don’t know what has gotten into him.” You said apologetically. Mattheo waved your apology away.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m quite fond of him.” He admitted.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed…” You muttered, reminded of the fact that your cat seemed to have a new favourite person. Mattheo raised an eyebrow as he took a drag of his cigarette, a silent question in the air.

“It’s just, he seems to be obsessed with you, and it hurts because I was the one who fed him with a bottle when he was a kitten.” You let out with a pout. Mattheo let out a laugh before throwing his arm over your shoulders, dragging you into him. You didn’t register what was happening as he squeezed you, sort of like a half hug, but with your face in his chest. His warmth surrounded you along with the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke from the cigarette.

“I’m sure he loves you the most, you’re still his mum you know.” Mattheo said softly, his arm still around your shoulders, holding you close. You looked up at him with big eyes, he had a small smirk on his handsome face as he took another drag of the cigarette. Your eyes travelled down to his hand and then down his exposed arm. That’s when you noticed the goosebumps on his skin and your eyes snapped back to his.

“Is the reason why you’re holding me like this because you’re cold?” You asked suspiciously. Mattheo let out a startled chuckle.

“What, no? You looked cold, so I thought you would like a hug.” He said, his voice slightly higher than his usual smooth voice.

“Liar!” You said, a laugh escaping you as you pointed an accusing finger at him. He put out his cigarette, tossing the butt over the railing before letting both of his hands find your waist inside the zip up hoodie you were wearing while letting out a chuckle.

“I’m not! Now you seemed to enjoy this last time.” He said, his voice smooth as he looked straight in your eyes. He was obviously hinting at when he ‘helped’ you down from the carriage, you were determined to not fold this time.

“Don’t try to deflect this to me, Mattheo.” You said, a grin on your face, you saw how a smile appeared on his face too. Your hands found their place on his chest as the two of you stood there, smiling at each other. If you thought about it, it was kind of weird, you had only known each other for a week, but then again you have been classmates since first year so maybe it wasn’t that weird that you now stood here, in his embrace, staring up in his beautiful copper-like eyes.

“You know, Theo said something that sounded something along the ramblings of a mad man the other day when we found Archimedes in my room.” He said lowly, careful not to ruin the moment.

“What did he say?” You breathed out.

“He said that your cat was trying to get us together.” He mumbled, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips briefly. Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment, before his eyes met yours again.

“You’re right, he did sound like a mad man.” You mumbled back, your own eyes wandering his beautiful face. Because if you had to describe him with one word it had to be beautiful. Your eyes wandered from his eyes to the scar on his nose, to his pink lips, to his jaw, back to his eyes, paying extra attention to the scar that ran across his eyebrow. You felt breathless as the wind carried his cologne to your nose, the smell of cigarettes intensified from the one he just had. You felt how his hand traced shapes on your back, right over the fabric of your sleepshirt and you thought your brain stopped working for a moment.

“Theo didn’t sound like a mad man, Theo was right.” The voice of none other than Theodore broke the spell between the two of you, both of you jumped back, as if you were burned, “Please tell me that you guys saw that?” Theo asked Lorenzo and Blaise who was standing beside him at the top of the stairs.

“Yep.” Lorenzo said.

“Clear as day.” Blaise added before looking around, “And look, Archimedes is here, what a coincidence.” He added sarcastically.

“You guys sound very paranoid; he is just a normal cat.” You said with a laugh, after you had collected yourself from what ever had been going on with you and Mattheo. You leaned against the cold railing on the astronomy tower.

“You don’t think it’s a little weird how obsessed he is with Mattheo?” Lorenzo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Hey, what do I know, maybe he likes his energy, or I don’t know, his cologne maybe, it is good by the way,” you added, nodding to Mattheo who chuckled, “or he is just a weird cat who makes weird decisions.” You shrugged. The three boys looked at you for a moment in silence.

“Nah!” They all let out making you giggle.

“So, you would rather believe that he is some magical matchmaker?” You asked, disbelief mixed with amusement laced your voice. You heard Mattheo chuckle from beside you. The response consisted of various agreeing mumbles.

“So, what were you two doing before we came here?” Blaise asked while wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, because what were you doing? What would’ve happened if you weren’t interrupted? The thoughts made your blush intensify.

“I- we- we were, uh… oh look at the time, I got to get to bed, we have class tomorrow.” You rambled while going to pick up Archimedes and get out of there, the embarrassment filling you up. You heard chuckles and when you turned to walk away you came face to chest with Mattheo.

“Now where are you going, princess?” He asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Uh, to bed?” It came out like a question more than an answer.

“I bet Mattheo would die to join her.” You heard Blaise mutter to the others who burst out in quiet laughter. If Mattheo heard him, he didn’t let on. You bit your lower lip, as an attempt to stifle the embarrassment but also the giddiness you were feeling.

“Darling, it’s Friday, we don’t have class tomorrow.” He said slowly, his smirk growing into a whole grin when he saw that it dawned on you. You heard the others chuckling loudly at you, making you send a glare at them. They stopped laughing as they put their hands up in mock surrender. You nodded at Mattheo and put Archimedes down on Mattheo’s sweatshirt again. You ended up staying with them for a while, after the embarrassment subdued. You noticed that if you weren’t counting Mattheo, you had the most in common with Theo. Despite him thinking that your cat was some magical match maker. They were all really funny and you were really grateful for being able to see this side of them. You and Theo would gang up on Mattheo, poking fun at him through the night, Enzo and Blaise joining in from time to time. After a couple of hours, you started to feel tired, Archimedes had moved from the spot in Mattheo’s sweater to your lap, making you feel loved by your cat again. Mattheo bumped your shoulder when you stifled your like 10th yawn for the evening. You looked at him with a small smile before looking around at the others.

“I’m sorry boys, I’m too tired,” you yawned, “I’m going to bed.” You said with a sleepy smile on your face. They nodded understandingly. You stood up, Archimedes was asleep in your arms, like usual. The boys all said their various ‘good nights’ to you, but Mattheo rose to his feet and followed you to the stairs. You stopped at the top of the stairs.

“You don’t have to walk me back, I’ll manage.” You smiled at the boy before you as you placed what you thought to be a grateful hand on his arm. Mattheo looked like he wanted to say something, balling his hand into a fist before releasing it again and again. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern.

“Are you okay, Mattheo?” You asked gently. He let out a breath before looking you directly in the eye.

“Yeah,” he let out another breath, “just get back safe, okay?” He said before letting his hand brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand rested on the side of you neck before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, right by your hairline. You think your brain stopped working and your heart went into overdrive. You stared at him with wide eyes, a blush dusting your cheeks from his actions. He was watching you intently for any sign of discomfort. His large, warm hand, calloused from quidditch, was still resting on the side of your neck. He could no doubt feel your rapid pulse. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you finally came to it. You gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, good night.” You let out softly, the smile still on your face. You noticed that a similar smile made its way onto his face as well as he muttered a ‘good night’ back before you started to descend the stairs and make your way back to your dorm. You fell asleep thinking of him, Archimedes sleeping soundly on the pillow next to you. Over the next couple of weeks you realised that the feelings you had for Mattheo weren’t exactly as platonic as you thought they were in the beginning. You had started to hang out with the notorious boys more. You realised that you had developed a crush on the boy one night when the two of you were hanging out in the astronomy tower. The others hadn’t shown up yet, Archimedes were sleeping on the extra sweater Mattheo had brought for him, and you were sitting next to each other, shoulders touching, as he smoked his cigarette. You were joking about Cormac McLaggen, the older Gryffindor had a pompous air about him which the two of you found hilarious.

“And he thinks he’s so much better than everyone, god, I hate him.” Mattheo laughed to which you were laughing along.

“Also, that he totally turns into a douche if you reject him.” You gossiped.

“Really?” Mattheo asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, he asked my friend Megan out last year, she very politely declined, and he called her a bitch and stormed off.” You explained. You saw how Mattheo looked at you with a look between disbelief and irritation.

“He is such a tool, I wish I had a reason to kick his ass.” Mattheo muttered irritably. You let out a chuckle and turned your body fully to him, grabbing his face between your hands, slightly squishing it. His face made you let out a giggle.

“Hey, no need to fight him when you’re already better than him.” You giggled before letting go of his face. You saw a small smile on his face before he took another drag of his cigarette. This was the moment you realised, you liked him more than a friend. Little did you know that about a week after this Mattheo had gotten a reason to kick Cormac’s ass. You were walking with Hannah and Megan to lunch, it was a Friday, now early November. The castle was chilly, and the grounds wet from all the rain. Hufflepuff had beaten Ravenclaw in the first quidditch match a couple of weeks ago. Archimedes had found you while you were walking, and you had scoped your cat up in your arms. When you rounded a corner and into another corridor Cormac stopped you.

“Hi, y/n, do you have a second?” He had asked.

“Yeah,” you turned to your friends, “I’ll see you guys in lunch.” You told them, you assumed he wanted help with herbology, since you had a particular knack for the subject. You turned to Cormac with a smile but before you could say anything Archimedes leapt out of your arms and dashed around the corner you just came from.

“How can I help you, Cormac?” You asked kindly, even if you’d just made fun of him with Mattheo some time ago. He stepped closer to you, closer than comfortable. His strong, overpowering cologne hit your nose, almost making you sneeze.

“What do you say, how about a date? I can take you to Hogsmeade before taking you back to my dorm.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You tried your best not to make a face at his sleazy attempt at asking you out on a date.

“No, I’m sorry Cormac-”

“Come on, it will be worth your while, I’ve heard I’m a very good date.” He pressed on, stepping even closer to you, making your take a step back.

“She said no.” The voice of Mattheo startled you. He was staring Cormac down, his look dangerous. By his feet was no other than Archimedes. You scoped you cat up agian as you shifted your attention back to the tense situation before you. Mattheo looked scary, almost dangerous like this. His fist clenched, his eyes focused on Cormac, like he was some prey, he was clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“Look man,” Cormac lightly clapped Mattheo on his arm before continuing, “this has nothing to do with you, so how about you move along, huh?” what a brave man, you thought because Mattheo’s whole face darkened at this.

“What’s so hard to understand about the word ‘no’?” Mattheo asked, his voice cold and hard. You heard footsteps round the corner and cast a quick look behind you. It was Blaise, Theo and Enzo. It made you feel a bit better. You gently placed a hand on Mattheo’s arm, trying to diffuse the tense situation.

“Come on, Mattheo, let’s just go.” You said softly before turning to Cormac, “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” You said with the kindest voice you could muster. Then you heard it, it made your blood run cold. Cormac had muttered something under his breath right before straightening up. Mattheo heard it too.

“What did you say?” He asked, anger clear in his voice. Cormac, who wasn’t known for his superior intellect, repeated what he said, louder this time.

“Whatever, who wants a mudblood anyways.” He said, a smug smirk on his face. You felt tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t been called that in a long time. You felt a hand grab your arm, pulling you away from Mattheo, it was Theo. Tears were slipping down your cheeks silently. He rubbed your back in a comforting manner.

“You’re okay, come here, I’m sure Mattheo don’t want you to see this.” He said gently while leading you around the corner and placed himself in your way. The last thing you had seen was how Mattheo had frozen, presumably in anger. Then you heard a thud and a sickening crack. Someone had punched someone. Your eyes widened in panic as you looked up at Theo. Archimedes tried stroking your hand with his head to give you some comfort. Theo looked out from behind the corner.

“Don’t worry y/n, Mattheo is fine, he usually is.” Theo said, reassuringly while you could hear thuds and grunts repeatedly. You felt sick to your stomach with worry, and you tried to comfort yourself by hugging Archimedes closer, he made his usual pigeon sound before he headbutted your face in affection, also effectively drying your tears in the process. Theo let out a small chuckle.

“Will you believe me now that he is some magical match maker? He came and found us and led us here.” You knew Theo just tried to get your mind of the fight that was happening on the other side of the wall, but you let him.

“He did?” You asked softly as you looked into the yellow eyes of your cat.

“Yeah, he sounded panicked as well, I’ve never heard him meow so loud before.” Theo said also looking at your cat. Before you could talk further about the subject the thuds and groans had stopped and Mattheo came around the corner, a frantic look in his eyes. Your eyes searched his frame for injuries, a small cut on his lip and one larger on his eyebrow. He grabbed your face gently, his knuckles bloody and bruised.

“Are you okay, love? Did he hurt you?” He asked, worry evident in his voice. You saw in the corner of your eye how Theo slowly backed away and went around the corner, presumably joining Enzo and Blaise to give you some privacy. You looked at Mattheo a small frown on your face.

“You’re hurt.” You said softly to which Mattheo let out a huff like chuckle.

“That’s not what I asked, darling, are you hurt?” He asked, his voice gentle, but stressing the ‘you’. You shook your head as an answer to his question.

“But you are.” You said, stubbornly, “and is Cormac…” You trailed off.

“I’m fine and he is fine, well, bruised, but fine I guess.” He said, finally giving in. You let out a breath of relief.

“Let’s clean you up.” You said softly before dragging him into the girl’s bathroom that was just down the corridor.

“You know this is the girl’s bathroom, right?” He said suspiciously as you wetted some paper to clean up his cuts.

“Yeah, and I’m a girl.” You said as if it was obvious. Archimedes, who you had let down to wet the paper was sitting and watching the two of you on one of the sinks. Mattheo let out a chuckle. You gently dabbed at the cut in his eyebrow. Your other hand was resting on his shoulder. You felt his hands rest on your waist, just like that time in the astronomy tower. Your eyes looked over his face as you cleaned his cut.

“That was a very stupid thing to do, Mattheo.” You mumbled softly, you felt how he let out a huff like chuckle again, the sound echoing on the tiled walls of the bathroom.

“No one will ever get away with calling you shit like that. Now he and everyone else know that you’re off limits.” He muttered, some anger still left in his voice. You stopped what you were doing and looked, really looked, at him. His jaw was still tense, those copper-brown eyes that you liked so much still had shadows in them. You put down the damp paper on the edge of the sink before gently cupping his face in your hands.

“Hey, I’m fine, you’re fine, mostly. Thank you, for what you did, I just don’t like seeing you hurt.” You said softly, your thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones. His eyes immediately softened as they met yours. His hands squeezed your waist in an affectionate manner, the butterflies in your stomach running wild. He was looking at you intently, his Bambi eyes scanning your face, quickly stopping at your lips before returning to your eyes.

“To be honest I saw red the moment I saw him so close to you but when he said that,” He paused, closing his eyes as if he was remembering something painful, “I wanted to rip him apart. I don’t think I have a right to say you’re off limits to others, you’re not even mine, but I couldn’t stop myself from threaten him to stay away.” You had no idea where his honesty came from, but his admission made a gentle smile appear on your face.

“What?” He asked, when he saw your smile. You felt brave enough to snake your hands around his neck as you stood on the tips of your toes.

“But I am yours Mattheo, I’ve been for a while.” You mumbled lowly your own eyes flickering to his pink lips, the bottom one having a cut from the fight that had just happened.

“What?” He breathed out, his hands squeezing your waist once again as he simultaneously pulled you closer, so that you were flush against him. You nodded, a big smile on your face.

“Fuck, princess, you can’t just say shit like that and not expect me to kiss you.” He muttered, his face now considerably closer. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, you could count each individual eye-lash on his eyes from how close you were.

“Maybe I want you to.” You muttered before you closed the gap between the two of you. He kissed you back immediately. The kiss was slow and passionate and tasted slightly like iron as your hands gently raked through his hair. His hands ran over your back and waist, exploring every curve before finding their place low on your hips. His lips were soft and gentle as he tried to convey every feeling he had towards you through the kiss. You gently pulled on his hair, earing a groan from him, making you smile into the kiss. Finally, you had to break apart for air, but your faces stayed close.

“Does this mean I get to threaten people to stay away from you?” You asked teasingly, once you caught your breath from the kiss. Mattheo let out a chuckle before nodding. But before either of you could say or do anything else, the familiar sound of Archimedes could be heard. He walked over to you and headbutted both of you in affection. You let out a chuckle.

“You know what, I recon Theo was right about him.” Mattheo said with a chuckle before kissing you again.

[i23kazu]

♡ TO BE LOVED BY

characters. albedo zhongli diluc alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff + hurt/comfort. 1.6k words. an. part 1 , part 2 coming soon!!!! | to be loved by genshin men who appreciate art forms – where their favourite piece of art is you. ; reader is insecure + has low self esteem, and the men help them think otherwise. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

the painter

to be loved by albedo, the painter — people realise that the faces that he paints every day seem to resemble one person and one person alone. the high cheekbones, the crooked smile, the monolids — its either the artist has a case of the same face syndrome, or there is only one source of inspiration for him . . .

albedo sits by his artistry room, the window tinting golden light that shines onto your features. it highlights parts of you that you dislike, you argue, but he tenderly kisses each spot that brings you distaste. if you cannot love yourself, then let him love you extra. if you cannot see yourself the way he looks at you – with all the love and admiration and sweet infatuation in the world – then let him paint you in the way he so lovingly sees you so.

he motions for you to tilt to your left with a flick of his finger, not looking up from the blended paints on his wooden palette. you freeze – you don’t want to make him unhappy by not complying but complying also means seeing the ugliness of you. you don’t want him to see you ugly.

“i don’t like that side of me,” you whisper blankly. “it doesn’t make me look good.”

it is at these few words that albedo looks up from his painting.

“you are beautiful.”

he says the three words so matter-of-factly that you wonder if he even means it at all. they are so quick to fall out of his mouth – does he love you too little to properly regard them so, or does he love you so much that it requires no hesitation on his end to reassure you?

“albedo, thank you, but i am not-”

“you are so beautiful, my love,” albedo repeats. “and it pains me so because you don’t seem to believe it for yourself.”

“i am not-” you blink back salty tears.

“do my words hold no weight to you?” he asks, not unkindly. there’s an awkward stare that the both of you share before he lets a soft sigh part his lips, and he gathers you in his arms.

you look at him tiredly. this was not the battle you wanted to fight today, you think to yourself.

“i am beautiful.” you repeat after him. maybe, just maybe – if you say it enough, you can believe it just as wholeheartedly as albedo believes so. you can see the corners of his lips turn upwards into a soft smile – your lover smooths back your hair, planting a sweet kiss in the middle of your forehead.

“i love you, my muse. it’s alright if you don’t believe it just yet. you’ll have me to remind you that you are beautiful, every day.”

the poet

to be loved by zhongli, the poet — the words he spins materialises out of his infatuation for you. at first glance, the words seem so bombastic – so huge, so big, that they don’t make any sense. but they are beautiful; his words are so sweet and lovely, endless love poems addressed to the one person he has fallen harder and harder for every single day. you.

“are you sure that’s a real word?” you laugh lightly, peering over his shoulder to glance at the newest word on his yellowed paper. eudaimonia, you read curiously.

“my dear, i would assume so,” he replies, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “i believe it means for a person to be of a flourishing, happy state. the thesaurus that tartaglia had obtained for me says so, but if you think otherwise, we can most certainly track down the author to contest that.”

“i trust the author.” you giggle.

“as do i.” zhongli presses a kiss to your forehead, and turns back to his pen.

you watch as he strings together sentences – sentences so lovely, you could never have ever imagined them to be about you. he describes the slight smile on your face when you reread one of your favourite books, or the fact that your laugh has two sounds – one like the tinkling of wind chimes, the other a boisterous, unbridled roar. his pen greets the paper once again, and you hear the gentle scratching of the tip against the sheet.

you are the reason i am able to rest at home with eudaimonia – my pillar, my rock, my lifeline.

“that’s beautiful. your writing is lovely as always.” you whisper, wrapping your arms tenderly around him from behind. he leans into the warmth of your touch, sweetly, lovingly, falling into your embrace.

“well, my dear – it would only make sense for my words to reflect the most pleasing of things to me.”

the photographer

to be loved by diluc, the photographer — you are his model, day and night. he carries his camera when he can, and needless to say . . . more than three quarters of his camera roll is filled with pictures of you. they’re not perfect pictures, but they’re beautiful to him. and that is the only thing he cares about.

”diluc, don’t! i don’t look nice here.” you giggle as he, in a rare bout of unbridled playfulness, pretends to be your personal paparazzi.

“you look good in every photo, my love.” he chuckles, and runs you through the most recent photos he took.

it’s blurry. your cheeks look huge. your chin… “you look good” – was diluc blind, or lying?

you tighten your smile and turn back to your work, waving away thoughts that turn into jealous green monsters over others who would look good in his camera, no matter how imperfect their pose was.

“hey,” diluc sees the frown on your face. “i mean it. you look wonderful.”

“how?” you blink back frustrated tears.

“diluc, open your eyes. my eyes are uneven in this one. my cheeks look like a chipmunk’s. my chin.. i don’t even want to think about my chin. i don’t look good at all, diluc.”

he stays quiet for a moment, and you wonder if that was the right thing to say at all. maybe just keep quiet next time, (y/n). don’t insult his work – your insecurities are yours to hold alone, right? he tucks your hair away from your eyes and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“i urge you – look again, (y/n).”

“you didn’t edit anything, diluc.”

diluc thumbs away a stray tear as he cups your face – a betrayal to your plea to your body to keep quiet. just keep quiet, (y/n). your lover takes your shoulders and sits you down gently, kneeling next to you, camera in hand.

“you don’t look good, you say? interesting.” diluc has a placid smile on his face as he runs through his camera roll again – you are afraid of angering him, of doubting his craft – but how can you see those pictures and be immediately satisfied with what they are?

“why don’t you believe me? i’m the one who sees it.” you reply indignantly.

“i don’t believe so, not at all. you see it, but i see that you are smiling in each and every one of them, my love. you are happy and you are beautiful, my sun. undoubtedly so – for that is what the camera captures. is that not what matters the most?”

the writer

to be loved by alhaitham, the writer — people often wonder who sparks these passionate feelings of infatuation in his writing; all they need to look at is the person he leaves his gaze to linger on for a little while longer. his smile seems to brighten a little when he’s talking with you . . .

he describes a love scene so tenderly. a man and his partner, dancing in the stillness of a living room in the witching hours of the night – sweet, loving words fall clumsily out of the man’s mouth – it’s obvious he’s infatuated with his partner. two words, my angel, stands out in the manuscript you read.

“hayi, why do you never call me your angel? ever?” you ask, a slight pout on your face.

“because you are not a metaphor for me to use,” he counters, not unkindly. “you are not someone who i want to compare a mere object to.”

you see the slight disappointment in his face, and you hate yourself for it.

“maybe being compared to something would be better.” you reply softly.

“you are so much more than that,” he cradles your face in his palm, so gently it hurts.

you don’t deserve this gentleness, do you?

“who am i to take that away from you?”

the silence that follows seems louder than anything else you have ever heard. he sighs softly, not with frustration, but with a tenderness that only alhaitham can muster. he gathers you in his arms – he is so, so much bigger and taller than you – he never wants to crush you. never with his anger, nor his fear, or his hurt or his sadness.

“i’m sorry for always asking that. i don’t want to be annoying.” you murmur, blinking away tears.

“you will never be annoying to me, (y/n).” he exhales.

another quiet moment is shared between the two of you – it’s healing. the silence seems to nod to a shared understanding of a love that need not be said.

“i love you, (y/n), most magnificently so. and if it would take a lifetime for you to remember that, i would like to ask for a chance to spend that lifetime with you,” he whispers these words with a quiet fierceness, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder.

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[aritsukemo]

I don’t know if your requests are open, but I simply love your writing! May I have a Zhongli/Venti/Xiao Prompt with a reader who’s secretly a god from another world?

Finding out you're secretly a god | Genshin Impact

( @scar8o )

Summary: After your powers are revealed in a heat of the moment decision, you and your partner have a much needed conversation..

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, and Venti

Warnings: Nothing much. Mentions of reader facing discrimination in Xiao's and slight tears towards the end of Xiao's as well.

A/N: AGHHHH this took months to finally write, but I'm glad I finally got the push I needed to finish this! I'm sorry you had to wait so long and I hope you enjoy this little collection of drabbles I put together! :D

A yellowish-orange shade was cast over Teyvat just like it would any other evening. Nothing had changed; the wind was still blowing, wildlife was as and as wild as ever, and the grass was still the same old greenish tinge.

Well, today, Xiao supposes that something has changed. For the first time in years, there was complete silence between you two. Being the chatterbox that you were, it was never like this since you're always rambling on about whatever popped into your head—whether that'd be how your day went, what you should do tommorow, or even the most trivial things like which colored cloth you should use to wipe off your weapons.

But that particular evening, you didn't utter a word. You simply sat there, knees to your chest as you gazed at the sun slowly setting upon the horizon. It felt odd for Xiao—awkward if he were to be so mundane. At the same time, he had no way of relieving this odd, awkward tension from the air. He had so many question stirring in his head that could at least fill the air with something of substance, and yet, he felt hesitant to voice any of them.

But he has to say something. If he doesn't, he fears that he'll never get his questions answered. So, without looking your way, he asks, "Who..are you really?"

You don't answer immediately and for a moment, Xiao thought you didn't hear him at all. Before he can repeat himself, however, he hears your voice, low and uncharacteristically sullen as you tell him, "Someone who doesn't belong here.."

He doesn't realize it, but upon hearing your response and looking over at you, his eyes softened—and just like the snow he used to munch down to prevent himself from starving to death, his golden hues glistened in the light of the setting sun. He didn't know what to say to that. Or rather, he couldn't think of anything to say that would be comforting to your ears.

That's one the things about you that he's fond of, but is also envious of. You always knew the right thing to say even when he thought you didn't. It's one of his favorite things about you..

"Look, I'm sorry for lying to you for so long.." You said before heaving a long, tired sigh. One that sounded as if you've been holding it for ages, "In my own world, people despised me and this power so much so that they tried everything they could to make my life miserable.."

"Adults, kids, girls, boys, women, and men.. Even when they were more different than the glaxies above, the one thing that was always the same was the way they looked at me.. That deep swirl of hatred in their eyes as they stared at me..like I was some kind of monster.. No matter what I did for them, it never changed," Xiao chooses to ignore the way your voice cracks midway through your sentence—the signal that the glass dam inside you was beginning to crack..

"When I got here, I saw this as my brethren relieving me of that pain..like a fresh start. I was so happy..and so, so scared. I was terrified of the past happening again so I swore to do everything in my power to keep that part of me hidden for as long as I was able.."

At this point, he could see those crystal tears rolling down your face, the translucent trail they left glimmering in the sun's glow. He's never seen them before. You never allowed him to and now, he's grateful that you never did because the sight of you crying made his chest feel heavy and empty, causing it to ache. The sight was painful. It felt wrong associating this feeling with something so..human, but it's the only thing to describe this black hole forming where his heart's supposed to be..

And in attempt to fill that feeling, he finally asks, "Do you think this power of yours will bring harm to the people of Liyue?" You finally glance at him, confusion written all over that tear-stricken face of yours. He merely looks at you with expectancy, so you eventually croak out a small, "No.."

"Do you ever think that you'll try to take over Liyue and force it's people under your thumb?" He threw another question at you, and this time, you answered quickly, blurting out an offended sounding, "Of course not! Do you think I would?"

"No," He answered immediately, "But as the protector of this land, I had to make sure we were on the same page before I said anything else," And he gets up. Your crystalized eyes follow after him, confusion beginning to swirl along with a headache—the result caused by your near-breakdown just now.

"Wha.." You begin, but your voice dies in your throat as he offers you a hand and looks you in the eyes like he would any other day—as if everything was normal.

"You said before that after all of this was over, you'd drag me off somewhere to 'wind down', didn't you? Well, I'm allowing you this once to do so without having any resistance on my end," He clarifies, and that's when it finally clicks in your mind; nothing has changed. The world is still spinning, the once clear, orange sky has turned blue and starry. Xiao is still willing to reach out to you, still willing to stare at you with adoration and love, and be around you. He still sees you as simply Y/n.

And you find yourself brought to tears all over again. Yet this time, it's due to sheer relief instead of anxiety and agony. It's because of the happiness you feel as you reach out your hand and let yourself be helped up like some damsel..

..And it's all becase of Xiao, who's kind enough to see you as something other than a monster. Something lesser than a divine god or goddess, but as simply another person of the land who he should protect.

"So when did you figure it out?" You asked to the man who sat across from you at the table—although to others it seemed as though you were talking to your tea from how your eyes were trained on it the entire time you spoke, pupils following every ripple it made with every slight of your hand.

The man across from you—who you've called many endearments over the years of knowing him—simply hummed at your question, taking the time to grab his own tea cup before answering just as casually, "Some time ago. I've had some theories of my own for a while now, but..outside assistance helped to point me in the right direction."

"So the traveler told you," You stated, your tone leaving no room for him to lie or say otherwise—a silent testament that it was futile to try and deny something you already seen as a fact, but he attempted anyways.

"Not exactly," He said, "It was a slip of the tongue on Paimon's part, a small one at that, I barely noticed it myself." And this time, you hum, closing your eyes as you at last take a sip of your tea—which has long since gotten cold since it arrived at your table.

You take a long, slow sip, as if you were buying time, or maybe, simply trying to collect all the thoughts swirling in your head and condense them in a coherent, civil sentence. Whatever it is, Zhongli allows you that time and patiently waits for you to finally set your cup down again..

"So? What do you plan to do with me now that you know?" The question comes off blunt—slightly threatening to the unintelligent ears, but it doesn't phase Zhongli. After all, he knows that you weren't threatening him, but more rather felt threatened. Similar to a cornered bunny who's only defense weapons are its fluffy, dull nubs.

"Nothing at all," He says, and at last your eyes cross the table to look him in the eyes. He does the same, granting you the same favor.

There's a moment of silence between you two in that moment. You silently demand an answer to his previous answer and the light thrumming of your fingers against the smooth, expensive wood gave away your impatience, your growing anxiety, and most importantly your fear. It's a discomforting sight to see of his usually calm lover, and so, he's quicker to respond to you in hopes of relieving your tension.

"You hold me in such high regard, dear. And while I'm flatter, may I remind you that I'm simply a consultant. I have no power to do anything other than grant you a comfortable resting place to lay your head when you pass," He closes his eyes, breaking eye contact with you to bless you with a small, polite smile, "A question like that would be more fit for the Tianquan, would it not?"

"In my humble opinion, though, I think it best if you didn't stir a pot that has already settled. Going to Lady Ningguang over something she knows nothing about is not needed, don't you agree?"

He opens his eyes again to look at you, only having the luxury to catch the tail end of your reaction to him deciding to sweep this under the rug before your expression smoothens out and a smile eases onto your face and your fingers move to lace around your cup once again..

"I suppose you're right. Forget I said anything then."

"Who knew my windblume could be even more extraordinary than I once thought?" He told you under that massive oak tree—The Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero—after sneaking away with you, who was just praised the entire evening for your heroic deeds.

"You flatter me," You said before letting out a chuckle. Venti chose not to comment on how it sounded drier than how the fruits up in Celestia look, "Really, I don't deserve such praise.."

"On the contrary! You were Mondstadt's savior today! Not to mention mines!" He said cheerily, "If it weren't for you, Mondstadt would've been robbed of this bard's melodious melodies!"

You found yourself huffing at the absurdity of his words before you can stop yourself. Making up for the slip-up with a half-hearted, agreeing hum.

"You're a fool.. Having a dangerous being such as myself leisurely lay on you like this.." You whisper into his thigh as you turn on your side, your voice muffling due to half of your face being smothered by the puff of his shorts. Your comment was heard nonetheless and earned a chuckle from the bard.

"Love makes one do foolish things," He simply replies, before you feel something cold and smooth against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open and out of the corner of your eyes you see the familar red hue that you would only see plastered on one of the delicious treats the Cuihua Trees so graciously gift Teyvat.

You take the apple from his grasp, once again laying flat on your back as you hold the apple above you as if to tantalize yourself.

"I'm serious. You shouldn't be this nice to me anymore, Barbatos," Another slip of the tongue—one promptly ignored and immediately pushed to back of both of your minds, "I'm nothing but a weapon of destruction."

"That you may have been in the past, but as of now, you're simply a bartender at Angel's Share who's fallen head over heels for a skillful bard; me," He replies after swallowing the chewed, sweet chunks in his mouth that came from his apple—which has already been half-eaten at this point.

And you find yourself huffing again. This time at the realization that he was right—at least the part about being hopelessly in love with him anyways..

"You had a long day, so why not you rest after you eat? I'll strum you a gentle tune that'll carry you away to pleasant dreams, ehehe~!" He suddenly suggest—an obvious attempt at deading the conversation where it stands before you say something too depressing to brush off easily. You pretend to not notice, deciding to accept your defeat for now, as you nod, finally bringing the apple down to your lips and taking a bite, being careful to chew the bite thoroughly before swallowing..

"That sounds nice.. Maybe resting my eyes wouldn't be so bad."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: DC, Tampa, Athens [5/?]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 6.1k Summary: Late September means things are only accelerating as election day grows closer. Steve is picking up momentum in the polls, and things heat up on multiple fronts before you hit a bump that may shake up the progress between you and your husband.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: You get another West Wing cameo in this chapter (but totally unnecessary to have ever watched the show). This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[SEPTEMBER 26 - WASHINGTON, DC]

The late September sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the campaign's official DC headquarters, casting long shadows across the bustling office space. You're leaning against a desk, watching with amusement as Peter Parker, the youth outreach coordinator who's also become the campaign's unofficial creative director of the TikTok segment of the social media team, attempts to explain the concept for the video to Steve.

"Okay, Cap," Peter says, his enthusiasm palpable as he holds up his phone. "We're going to do a quick transition video. It's super easy, I promise!"

Steve stands in the middle of the room, looking slightly uncomfortable but determined. He's dressed casually in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, a stark contrast to his usual campaign attire. The goal is to remind the voters that Steve is relatable to the everyday American at the end of the day.

Steve nods, a mixture of bemusement and determination on his face. "Alright, Peter. Walk me through it."

Peter's face lights up. "Okay, so you're going to start in your casual clothes, then you'll spin around. As you spin, we'll cut and you'll change into your suit. When you finish the spin, you'll be in full Captain America mode, then we’ll have you spin and change one more time, and we’ll end the video with you in your presidential get up."

"And this will... resonate with young voters?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

You can't help but chuckle. "It's about showing your versatility, Steve. From everyday guy to national hero to the next president in the blink of an eye."

Steve shoots you a playful glare. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one spinning like a top."

Peter positions Steve in front of the camera. "Okay, Cap. Just spin naturally, and we'll take care of the angles and editing.”

As Steve prepares for his first take, Bucky saunters into the room, a smirk playing on his lips. He sidles up next to you, crossing his arms as he watches his best friend awkwardly position himself in front of the camera.

"I'm sure Steve must be loving this," Bucky murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, suppressing a chuckle. "It's written all over his face."

Indeed, Steve's expression is a fascinating mix of determination and mild discomfort, his brow is furrowed in concentration.

The rapport that’s been developing with Bucky over the last few weeks has also been nice. It’s its own brand of friendship, and it’s not rock solid yet, but it’s growing.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, phone at the ready. "On three. One... two... three!"

Steve begins to spin, his movements a bit stiff in the first take.

Peter's enthusiastic voice cuts through the air. "That was great, Cap! Let's try again,” he encourages, not leaving a beat for Steve to feel awkward or like he’s done it wrong. You can tell his approach will make all the difference with Steve.

As Steve prepares for another take, you can't help but admire his willingness to step out of his comfort zone. It's one of the things that's made him such an effective candidate - his ability to adapt and connect with people across generations.

"Okay, this time, try to relax a bit more," Peter suggests. "Just have fun with it!"

Steve spares a glance at you and Bucky, then takes a deep breath, shaking out his arms. "Right. Fun. I can do fun."

Bucky snorts beside you. "This ought to be good."

As Peter counts down again, Steve starts his spin. This time, his movements are smoother, more natural.

"Perfect!" Peter exclaims. "That's the one. Now, let's get you into your tac suit for the next part."

Steve nods, heading towards the makeshift changing area set up in the corner of the room. As he disappears behind the partition, Bucky leans in closer to you.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Steve would be doing social media stunts," he says, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. "He's come a long way from the kid who could barely talk to girls in Brooklyn."

You smile, picturing a young Steve Rogers, all skinny limbs and earnest determination. "I bet he was endearing," you say.

Bucky chuckles. "Oh, he was. A real charmer. Couldn't string two words together around a pretty dame, but he had a heart of gold." He pauses, his expression growing more serious. "It's good to see him like this, you know? Engaged with the world, trying new things and connecting with people again. For a while after the Blip, I worried he’d ride off into the sunset forever before the sunset was even really here. We’re out of the century we were supposed to live in, but we’re still here, y’know? Didn’t think it would be this, but it’s not all bad. Pepper wasn’t wrong in choosing him for who he is inside.”

You nod, understanding. “When I met with her about the campaign, she’d sent me the policy materials, the plans, the opposition research detailing his strengths and weaknesses as a candidate, and I was on board to take any position she offered me on the campaign team. I never imagined working on a presidential run, but her vision, her approach? I knew I wanted to be part of it.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow. “I thought… wait…” he’s mulling over what you said. “So, when you came in, you didn’t know she wanted you to marry Steve?”

You laugh and shake your head, “Oh, no! Because that would have been crazy! Who would agree to that?”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly at your revelation. "But you just... agreed on the spot when she proposed it?"

You pause, considering how to respond. The truth is, it had been a whirlwind decision, one that you sometimes still can't believe you made. "Not exactly on the spot," you say carefully. "But...pretty quickly, yeah. It was a lot to take in, but something about it just felt right, you know?"

Bucky nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I get it. Steve has that effect on people. Makes you want to follow him into any fight, even if it's not your own."

Before you can respond, Sam walks in, eyebrows raised at the scene before him. "How’re things going here? I hear we’re starting a dance troupe?"

Bucky chuckles. "Social media campaign. Apparently, the kids these days like watching people spin around and change clothes."

Sam shakes his head, a grin on his face. “Glad I’m not going to miss it.”

“I’m suggesting you go in as back up dancer.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Barnes! You know I’d do it!”

You laugh at the easy banter between Steve’s two best friends, but then the man himself emerges from behind the partition, now clad in his tactical suit. The sight of him in the red, white, and blue outfit isn’t new, but as it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed as Captain America in person, it unexpectedly takes your breath away a little.

Steve takes his position again, looking more at ease now in his familiar uniform. "How's this, Peter?" Steve calls out, adjusting the shield on his arm.

Peter gives him a thumbs up and starts the countdown. This time, Steve's spin is confident and fluid, ending with a slight smirk that's pure Captain America.

"Nailed it!" Peter cheers. "Okay, one more outfit change and we're done."

“Hang on!” Sam calls out. His eyes light up as he looks between you and Steve, a grin spreading across his face. "We've got a golden opportunity here."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Sam rubs his hands together. "Picture this: Captain America, in full uniform, getting a kiss from his lovely wife. It's the perfect Instagram moment!"

Steve's eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Sam, I don't think-"

"No, no, hear me out," Sam interrupts, warming to his theme. "We've been pushing the whole 'relatable Steve' angle, right? Well, what's more relatable than a guy getting a kiss from his wife? Plus, it ties in the Cap persona.”

Peter's face lights up at the suggestion. "Oh man, that's genius! The engagement would be off the charts!"

Steve looks slightly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and you don’t know how to feel about it either. "I don't know, guys. Isn't that a bit... much?"

Bucky chimes in, a smirk playing on his lips. "Come on, give the people what they want."

“Et tu, Brute?” you direct this to Bucky, not at all surprised at the enthusiasm from Sam and Peter, but genuinely shocked he’s jumping on board as well.

Sam turns to you, his expression a mix of excitement and mischief. "What do you say? Want to break the internet with a kiss from Captain America?"

You hesitate, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, the idea of kissing Steve - even for a staged photo - sends a flutter through your stomach. On the other, you're acutely aware of the artificiality of the situation and the potential implications for the campaign.

You glance at Steve. His expression is unreadable, but you can see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Sam, sensing your hesitation, softens his approach. "Look, I know it might seem a bit much, but think about it. We've been working so hard to show Steve as both the hero and the everyday man. This could be a perfect blend of both."

Peter nods enthusiastically. "I think a good candid shot would be a great way to humanize the campaign. Show that even Captain America has a soft side."

You look back at Steve, and he gives a small nod. You see a mix of emotions in his eyes - uncertainty, but also a hint of something else. Trust, perhaps. "If you're okay with it, I am."

"I’m good," you agree, your heart rate picking up slightly.

Sam claps his hands together. "Great! Peter, get ready with that camera."

As Peter positions himself, you step closer to Steve. He reaches out, gently placing his hands on your waist. The tactical suit feels cool under your fingertips as you place a hand on his chest. You can feel the slight tension in his muscles.

"Ready?" Steve murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, managing a small smile. "Let’s do this," you reply once more because this is its own ‘public appearance’, and so the customary exchange only seems fitting.

Steve’s hands move from your waist around to your back, and he takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes.

You stop breathing for a moment, suspended there in his arms.

“Kiss her, punk!” Bucky shouts, and the electric moment is broken, but you both laugh, and then Steve dips you dramatically and kisses you soundly as you clutch his shoulders. The three men cheer enthusiastically and cat call you when the kiss goes on just another moment or two.

As Steve stands you back up, you both burst into laughter, the tension of the moment dissolving into genuine mirth and camaraderie. His arm is still around your waist, steadying you as you regain your balance. The warmth of his body radiates through the tactical suit, and you find yourself leaning into him slightly, your soft, round body pressing into his hard muscles.

"So, Peter," Steve calls out, his voice still tinged with amusement, "did we nail that shot, or do you need us to try again?" There's a playful glint in his eye as he says this, and you can't help but grin up at him.

Peter, looking slightly flustered but undeniably excited, nods enthusiastically. "Oh yeah, Cap! That was perfect! The internet is going to go crazy over this!"

You start to step away, ready to return to your spot by the desk, but Steve surprises you by gently pulling you back, his arm wrapping around your waist once more. The room seems to fall away as he gazes into your eyes, a softness in his expression that you've rarely seen before. Time slows as he leans in, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

His touch is feather-light, his calloused thumb brushing across your cheekbone with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The scent of him envelops you - a mixture of leather from the suit, a hint of aftershave, and something uniquely Steve.

Your heart races as Steve leans in, his breath warm against your lips. For a moment, you forget about the cameras, the campaign, everything except the man in front of you.

Steve's lips brush yours, soft and tentative at first. It's different from the performative kiss moments ago - this feels real, intimate. You respond instinctively, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through your body.

Suddenly, you're jolted back to reality by the sound of a throat clearing loudly.

You and Steve break apart, both slightly breathless. The room crashes back into focus, and you're acutely aware of the others watching. Sam has a knowing smirk on his face. Peter looks like he might explode from excitement.

"Well," Sam says, breaking the silence. "I think we've got more than enough material for social media now."

You step back from Steve, feeling the heat creep up your neck. Steve clears his throat, looking slightly flustered himself.

"Right," he says, his voice a bit rough. "I should, uh, go change for the final spin shot."

As Steve disappears behind the partition again, you catch Bucky's eye. He gives you a subtle nod, his expression unreadable. You're not sure what to make of it, but there's no time to dwell on it as Peter starts setting up for the final shot.

You return to your spot by the desk and try compose yourself. Your lips still tingle from the kiss, and you can't shake the memory of Steve's touch.

Bucky sidles up next to you, his voice low as Sam and Peter talk next to you. "That was quite a show," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You glance at him, unsure how to respond. "It's all part of the job, right?" you say, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark.

Bucky gives you a long look, then nods slowly. "Right. The job."

Before you can say anything else, Steve emerges from behind the partition, now dressed in one of his presidential suits - a sharp navy number that accentuates his broad shoulders. You can't help but admire how he carries himself. He exudes a quiet confidence, as ever, a perfect blend of the everyday man and the leader of the free world.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, "let's nail this final spin!"

Steve takes his position, and as he begins to turn, you find yourself holding your breath. The transformation is mesmerizing - from casual Rogers to Captain America to Presidential Candidate, but all of them undeniably Steve.

[SEPTEMBER 27 - TAMPA, FLORIDA]

The campaign has rented out an entire floor of a hotel for debate prep, transforming the spacious suites into makeshift war rooms as Tampa provides some key and convenient access to key southern cities by plane. Maps, charts, and policy briefings cover every available surface, and the air hums with the energy of a team on a mission.

Jake Sullivan, Steve's chief strategist, has pulled out all the stops for this crucial phase of debate preparation. He's brought in Amy Gardner, a seasoned political operative known for her sharp wit and take-no-prisoners approach. Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy commands the room, even though she sits rather casually in an armchair ten feet from Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy paces the room, firing off rapid-fire questions at Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

"What's your plan for addressing climate change?" Jake asks, his voice stern.

Steve responds confidently, "We need to transition to clean energy sources while also supporting workers in traditional energy sectors. My plan includes..."

Amy cuts him off, her tone brusque. "Too long. You've got 60 seconds max. Hit the key points and move on."

Steve nods, taking a deep breath. "Right. Clean energy transition. Support for affected workers. Immediate action on emissions reduction."

“Too succinct,” she says.

Steve frowns, clearly trying to find the right balance. Squaring his shoulders, he goes again. "Our climate plan has three key components: First, an aggressive transition to clean energy sources like wind and solar. Second, robust support and retraining for workers in affected industries. And third, immediate action to reduce emissions across all sectors. This isn't just about saving the planet - it's about creating jobs and securing America's energy independence for generations to come."

Amy nods approvingly. "Better. Now, pivot to how this contrasts with your opponent's stance."

Steve's brow furrows in concentration. "Unlike my Republican opponent, who continues to deny the reality of climate change, my plan acknowledges the crisis we face while also prioritizing American workers and innovation. We can't afford to stick our heads in the sand any longer."

"Decent," Amy says, her tone softening slightly.

“Only decent?”

“You didn’t address the Democrats’ policy. Your battle is to convince enough voters in America to break with over two hundred years of choosing between red or blue.”

You can see Steve is fighting back a sigh of frustration.

"Mr. Rogers, your opponent claims your lack of formal political experience makes you unqualified for the presidency. How do you respond?"

Steve takes a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "My experience may not be traditional, but it's been forged in the crucible of protecting this nation and its values. I've led teams through impossible situations, made tough decisions with global consequences, and always put the American people first. That's the kind of leadership experience that truly matters."

Amy nods, but doesn't let up. "Good, but tighten it up. You need to hit harder on your unique qualifications. How do you respond to critics who say your experience is outdated?"

"I'd say that my unique perspective allows me to see both where we've been and where we need to go," Steve begins, his voice steady. "I've seen this country at its best and its worst. I understand the challenges we face because I've lived through similar ones before. But I also understand the incredible potential of our future because I've seen how far we've come."

You can’t help but feel inspired by that answer, but Amy's eyes narrow, her expression sharpening. "Not bad, but you're still playing it too safe. Your opponents will come at you hard. Let's ramp this up."

She stands and begins pacing in front of Steve like a shark. "Mr. Rogers, your critics say you're nothing more than a science experiment gone right. How can you claim to represent the average American when you're literally superhuman?"

Steve's jaw tightens, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "I may have enhanced abilities, but my values and my heart are as human as anyone's. I grew up in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. I know what it's like to struggle, to feel powerless. The serum didn't change that part of me."

Your heart swells, but again Any interjects again.

"Weak," she says, her voice cutting. "You're not connecting. Try again."

Your mouth drops open slightly. That was powerful. You know it was.

Steve takes a deep breath, his knuckles whitening as he grips the podium. “I’m not a monkey on a unicycle.”

“Well, what a great start. No one wants a monkey in the White House,” she deadpans.

“I don’t need this. We did just fine in the first debate without you,” Steve nearly growls.

“Oh, I didn’t know we were aiming for just fine, I thought you wanted to win.”

Steve's eyes flash with a mixture of anger and frustration. The tension in the room is palpable, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. You can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grinds his teeth, trying to maintain his composure.

"I'm not here to play games or put on a show," Steve says, his voice low and controlled, but with an undercurrent of steel. "I'm here because I believe in this country and what it can be. I've fought for it, bled for it, and yes, even died for it. So don't tell me I'm not connecting."

Amy opens her mouth to retort, but Steve cuts her off.

"I've seen this nation at its best and its worst," Steve goes again, his voice growing louder, more impassioned as he speaks. "I've watched it rise from the ashes of the Great Depression, triumph over fascism, and push the boundaries of human achievement. But I've also seen it torn apart by fear, prejudice, and greed."

His eyes blaze with an intensity that seems to electrify the air around him. The room falls silent, everyone transfixed by the raw emotion in his words.

"I may have been enhanced by science, but my heart, my values - they come from growing up as a scrawny kid in Brooklyn who couldn't stand by and watch bullies win. They come from the men and women I fought alongside, who gave their lives for the ideals this country stands for."

Steve's fist comes down on the podium with a resounding thud, causing several people to jump.

"I'm running for president not because I think I'm better than anyone else, but because I believe in the promise of America - a promise that's been broken too many times for too many people. I've seen what this country can do when we come together, when we fight for what's right. And I'm here to tell you, we can do it again."

Steve's voice rings out, filled with passion and conviction. The room is dead silent, everyone hanging on his every word.

"So no, I'm not a traditional politician. I don't have decades of experience playing political games or making backroom deals. What I have is a lifetime of standing up for what's right, of putting others before myself, of believing that we can always be better. I'm running because I believe in the power of ordinary people to do extraordinary things when given the chance."

He pauses, his chest heaving slightly as he looks around the room. The silence is deafening, everyone ensnared by the raw power of his words.

"That's what this campaign is about," he says, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. "It's about reminding every American that they have the power to shape this nation's future. That their voice matters, their dreams matter, this country over politicians and political agendas. It’s not a show to me.”

Steve strides away from the podium and walks out, and no one stops him. No one even moves until the weighted door to the suite swings closed again. Jake and Elsa begin conferring. Amy seems unconcerned. You’re sitting with Bucky and Sam, who exchange a look, and Bucky moves to stand, but you’re quicker.

“Let me go after him,” you find yourself saying, surprised at how fast you were to seize this situation, almost like a natural instinct.

You hurry out of the room, scanning the hallway for any sign of Steve. You catch a glimpse of his broad shoulders disappearing around a corner and quicken your pace to catch up.

"Steve!" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor.

He stops, his back still to you, shoulders tense. As you approach, he turns slowly to face you. The fire in his eyes has dimmed, replaced by a weariness that tugs at your heart.

"Hey," you say softly, closing the distance between you. "That was... intense back there."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. It's just..." He trails off, shaking his head.

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "It's okay. Amy was pushing hard. Maybe too hard."

He looks down at your hand, then up to your face. “I’m fine.”

“I think you’ve told everyone you’re fine every day of your life, Steve Rogers, and no one needs to exist like that.”

Steve cocks his chin slightly. “But the President of the United States should have it together, shouldn’t they? People want a leader they can trust.”

You smile, but it’s not a happy smile, and his expression matches yours.

“Can I ask…?” you venture cautiously.

He nods. “Wife privileges. You can ask whatever you want. Wife duties, probably, to ask me questions I don’t want to hear.”

Wife. A flutter flares in your stomach, but you force yourself to concentrate on the moment, furiously tamping down your reaction.

He resumes walking down the hallway, but more slowly this time, and you fall into step with him as you pursue your curiosity. “A monkey on a unicycle is an oddly specific and highly uncommon comparison to bring up. Is that some reference from your time?”

Steve huffs and his eyes fill with a mix of nostalgia and resentment as he begins to speak. His voice is heavy with emotion as he remembers his past. “I used to sketch a lot when I was young. We didn't have much during the depression, but my ma always managed to scrimp and save enough to buy me a notebook for Christmas or my birthday. It stuck with me up through joining the Army.”

His expression turns somber as he continues, "And after the serum changed my body but I was put on tour to encourage people to buy bonds, it just felt...underwhelming. Discouraging. I knew I could be doing more, making a real difference. But I did what I could - I knew raising money still helped.”

You reach the end of the hallway and stand next to each other, looking out the window.

“When they sent us out to Europe to entertain the troops, it only got worse. The last day I performed, for the 107th regiment, I was heckled and booed off stage."

Steve's hands clench into fists at his sides, "I drew a silly picture of a monkey riding a unicycle; it felt like that's all I was worth to them - just another pawn in their production."

You want to reach for his hand, but it doesn’t seem like the moment. So you simply continue to listen.

“That ended up being the last day I performed a show. I found out part of the company had been captured, stuck behind enemy lines. I disobeyed direct orders, found the men, saved Bucky. After that, everything finally changed, and we got to go to work, doing good, fighting Nazis and Hydra.”

A slight smile tugs at Steve's lips as he finishes his story, "I never wanted to feel like that monkey again. But the closer we get to election day, the more this feels like just a production.”

You stay silent for a moment, mulling over the pieces of his past and the feelings he’s just shared. This isn’t an easy conversation, and it’s not the conversation you thought you would have coming out here, but you’re grateful the two of you are having it together.

You aren’t by any means a seasoned politician either, but you had seen and had to at some points play at politics in your own work. “It’s all a show, there’s no denying that. But you’re not the monkey unless you sit back and let that be the reality.”

“How do you figure that?”

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before responding. "Steve, you knew from the beginning that this campaign would be a production. You agreed to it - all of it. Including," you gesture between the two of you, your voice softening, "this arrangement. Marrying a woman you'd never even met before."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passing through them. You continue, your voice gentle but firm.

"You didn't do all this just to be a figurehead or a puppet. You did it because you want to be president. You want to be the one steering the strategy, calling the shots, making real change." You pause, making sure he's really listening. "This campaign isn't just about winning an election. It's preparation for the presidency itself."

You turn to face him fully, your eyes never leaving his. "This campaign, as frustrating and exhausting as it can be, is its own kind of preparation for the presidency. Think about it - you're dealing with conflicting advice, responding to the platforms from the candidates and how they overlap and differ from your own, connecting directly with the people across the country, making tough calls on what is and is not a priority.”

Steve listens intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considers your words. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, processing this perspective.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I did agree to all of this." He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you've noticed he has when he's deep in thought. "I just want it to mean something. To be more than just sound bites and photo ops."

You nod, understanding his frustration. "It does mean something, Steve. Every interaction you have, every speech you give, every policy you propose - it all matters. You're not just going through the motions. You're shaping the conversation, influencing people's thoughts and beliefs about what this country can be."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a mix of gratitude and something deeper there.

"She’s right, Rogers,” a voice behind you makes you both jump and turn.

“This isn't just about winning,” Amy emphasizes. “It's about learning how to navigate the complexities of leading a nation, finding your presence as the leader of the free world, as commander in chief, winning the trust of the American people.

“The debates, the press conferences, the tough decisions you'll have to make as president - they won't always be fair or comfortable. That’s why I pushed you. You won’t answer every debate question like that, but I needed to know you could go there. That’s the kind of president America wants, but they don’t know it until they see it. If you can shake them to their bones, you’ll change hearts and minds.”

Steve smiles at her half in kindness, half in disbelief. “You say all of that pretty casually.”

Amy shrugs and returns the smile. “Because it’s true. I’m done beating you up now that I know you can go the rounds. If you want me to leave, I will, but I’m game to stay if you’re game for slightly less intense verbal sparring.”

“Oh, I can do this all day.”

[SEPTEMBER 28 - ATHENS, GEORGIA]

The campaign plane hums with activity in the minutes before take off. This cabin is filled with members of the press corps, their laptops open and fingers poised over keyboards, eager for any morsel of information they can turn into their next headlines.

Steve looks almost relaxed. His tie is loosened and sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. The energy from the successful event you just wrapped up at the University of Georgia still lingers in the air. This was the fourth event of its kind - a town hall format called College Q&A limited to students and granting them access to dialogue with Steve. You can't help but feel a sense of pride as you recall how he connected with the students, his earnest answers and quick wit seeming to win over even the most skeptical audience members.

It’s become routine that Steve always takes questions from the press corps when he boards the plane before heading to the campaign team cabin, and he’s truly at ease with them in this interaction.

“We’ll take one more,” the campaign spokesperson announces to let both Steve and the reporters know it’s almost time for take off.

“Andy,” Steve calls on one of the familiar faces - the reporter from The Washington Post.

“Yes, Captain, do you have any response to Jeff Connor’s comments about your relationship with Mrs. Rogers?”

Steve's whole demeanor immediately turns serious, his jaw clenching. "I haven't heard Connor's specific comments, so I can't respond directly. My relationship with my wife is personal, and it's not up for debate or speculation."

He pauses, his eyes scanning the cabin before continuing. "What I will say is that she has been an incredible partner, both personally and for this campaign. Her intelligence, compassion, and dedication inspire me every day to be a better person and a better leader."

Steve's gaze softens a fraction as he glances in your direction. "I'm grateful she agreed to take this journey with me."

The press corps erupts with follow-up questions, but Jake holds up a hand. "That's all for now, folks, you know they won’t take off until we’re all seated and we don’t want to miss our take-off window. Thank you."

You, Steve, and the rest of your staff head into the first campaign cabin, and as soon as the door is shut, the atmosphere shifts. The professional masks slip away, replaced by a mix of concern, curiosity, and irritation. Jake immediately pulls out his phone, you assume to get the quote in question.

Elsa, your communications director, is already pulling out her laptop as she settles into a seat across from Steve. "That was the perfect response back there. Quick and heartfelt. It'll play well, especially given the context of Connor's comments."

Your personal aide Sophia is already handing you a tablet to read the quote. "Here, ma’am. It came out during the Q&A, and everyone got wind of it as we were boarding the plane."

You take the tablet, your eyes quickly scanning the headline: "Jeff Connor Speaks Out: 'I Hope They're Happy Together'" The article features a quote from Connor: "I wish them both the best. Marriage isn't easy, especially in the public eye. I just hope they've found happiness together."

You pass it over to Steve and then chew on your lip, pulling out your own phone.

It only takes him a moment to read as well. "Thanks,” Steve's brow furrows as he loosens his tie further and passes the tablet back to Sophia. “This seems fine, unless I’m missing something. But who is this guy, and why would we care what he thinks of our marriage more than anyone else?"

A beat of silence falls over the cabin. You can feel the weight of several pairs of eyes on you, a mixture of surprise and shock in their gazes.

“Okay, I’m clearly the only one who doesn’t know,” Steve concedes, a shade of irritation bleeding through his tone, “Anyone care to enlighten me?”

You take a steadying breath, then look up at Steve and say, “Jeff Connor is my former husband.”

next part: ATHENS TO MIAMI

I'll just say that I've been waiting for this chapter in the story almost from the beginning. 😌

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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[stxneflxwers]

tough love.

⋯⁂ summary. he could use tough love, but only yours.

⋯⁂ a/n. this glorious idea hit me... i had to write it immediately !! also if it reads weird halfway thru, it's cuz my internet fucking died and i had to finish this at two different times D:

⋯⁂ characters. aventurine x gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. post-penacony. all lowercase. reader is brutally honest. aventurine gets some tough love. hurt/comfort. you knew each other pre-penacony. some cussing. awkward confession. you give him a hug.

aventurine is tired. fatigued. exhausted.

penacony has been one brutally eye-opening experience after another for him, and many others. a part of him wants to sleep for so long, so so long. perhaps not permanently, but when he feels well enough to face the world again. maybe.

this place is a goddamn nightmare, he thinks with a wry and weak chuckle.

right now, he's standing in clockie studios theme park – a place he's grown to partly resent, partly appreciate. he stares down the repaired big screen with crossed arms as he leans against a wall. it's now so isolated here, but people have bigger fish to fry, he thinks. yet... he can't help but feel so small in comparison. briefly, he feels relieved he isn't in the spotlight.

"you know, that was pretty shitty of you. maybe the shittiest. but... maybe you've learned your lesson, hm?"

a familiar voice nearby echoes in his ears – your voice. your sweet yet painfully forthright voice. you're perhaps the only damned person in this unforgiving universe that could hope to understand his inner machinations.

now, he finds himself appreciating you more than ever. maybe he's ready to be seen, even just a little. but only by you.

he smirks, "yeah, maybe i did." he laughs weakly.

silence casts a thick blanket over you two. maybe for a moment too long.

"you know," you start again, "i've been incredibly worried over your dumb ass." you sigh, yet it's the sweetest sound to him.

"ah," he mutters shyly, "my bad." he can't stop smiling, but it's hardly one borne from his false bravado.

"...damn right it's 'your bad'," you frown slightly, the sight hurts to see. and then you stride up to him with tentative confidence, "...i missed you, too." you stand a couple of paces away from him.

"you know what? i missed you like hell too." he confesses, there's something mysteriously soft in his gaze as he stares you down. his gaze lacks its usual lightlessness, it's the first time you've ever seen a shimmer of something honest in him.

"you're finally changing, then!" you grin, finally closing the distance, "i believe in you, aven. i always have, i always will. and, well…" you hesitate, a rare occurrence. "…i'm honored to witness your growth and change. you're not immutable… and, inevitably, everything is mutable." you whisper.

aventurine can't stop himself from blushing.

he's not sure why he's blushing – is it the proximity? no, he's used to standing near you. is it your words? no, not that either. is it your mere presence? ...maybe.

you notice his pink cheeks immediately. and you grin.

"what's with that look on your face, huh–"

"i love you."

you damn near choke on your own oxygen. (not that oxygen is entirely a necessity in a dream.) now you're the flustered one. actually, both of you are flustered – his red face rivaling your surprised expression.

"i–" he starts, "uh..." his mouth hangs open. why in the absolute hell did he just blurt that out? "haha! got ya! you know me and my–"

"that wasn't a prank, so don't even try pulling that on me..." your surprise shifts into a half-hearted glare, and a little pout that he wants to kiss so badly.

"haha... o-okay, not a prank..." he raises his hands defensively.

and then there's naught but silence. very awkward silence. the most awkward silence. he's still blushing, you're still glaring. he glances around, as if searching for the nearest exit, and when his eyes land back on you, you've taken a step closer to him.

"i love you too, you reckless idiot."

you sigh as your expression softens, even your voice is as light as a halovian's feather. it's music to his ears. he cracks a small smile, it's genuine and bashful with the way it curves his lips.

"...and i know my love can't fill the holes in your heart," you whisper, "but... you'll let me at least help you out with putting band-aids on for now, right?" you smile, he can taste how bittersweet it must feel for you.

"heh," he laughs breathily, "as long as it's you helping out."

"good. i can't keep pushing my way into your world, anyway, so... please... let me stay a while longer." you pull him into a tentative, careful hug – holding him like he's made of glass. and maybe he is.

"i..." he trails off as a sudden surge of emotions threatens to overwhelm him, bubbling in his chest. "stay." he hides his face in your shoulder.

"for as long as you'll have me."

"then... always?"

"always."

[fallingdownhell]

Genshin men dealing with separation anxiety.

You didn't really specify any characters except for the men, so I just picked out some who I think fit this description. Hope you're okay with that.

Characters Included: Xiao; Wanderer; Tighnari; Diluc

Content: gender neutral reader; separation anxiety; mentions of insecurities; reverse comfort

Word count: 1,8k words

Thanks again for your request!

Xiao

Xiao is relatively new to the whole concept of dating and relationships in general

He tries to get used to it, but it's difficult for him. For so many years, he saw himself as nothing but a weapon. So this new situation is just something he never thought would happen to him

once he fully trusts you with everything about him would be when this particular "problem" starts to show itself

would have one of the worst cases, in my opinion

he is so used to loss, yet he can't imagine having to deal with your loss. He's sure that should this day ever arrive, it would ultimately destroy him, too

he can deal with a few hours alone, he doesn't need you by his side 24/7

but, once a certain time frame has been reached and he hasn't heard or seen anything from you, he starts to grow restless and anxious

Xiao tries to play it cool, but deep down, he worries about you

are you okay? are you hurt? could you possibly need his assistence? But you haven't called for him.. so everything should be fine, right? But what if you just didn't get the chance to call for him and you were already....

he tries to keep his thoughts under control, but he can't seem to redirect the course his mind has taken

he tries to reason with himself, not wanting to immediately assume the worst possible things

but soon, he can't take it anymore, so he starts looking for you. He searches the places you frequent the most, while maintaining a safe distance so you don't immediately spot him

he soon finds you in the streets of Liyue Harbor, talking to one of the vendors, laughing happily

as he sees you like this, his heart suddenly grows lighter, the impending feeling of dread slowly going away as it's replaced by this warm, loving feeling he always gets when looking at you or spending time with you

he waits until your done with your chat, watches you as you walk away from the booth. Once you're in an area with less people around, he appears in front of you

you're slightly startled, but you start to get used to his random entrances and dissapearances

you smile at him, and the last bits of Xiao's worries are instantly blown away as he allows himself to take in your calming presence

somehow, he always feels at peace with you. No matter what life might throw at him in the future, he's sure he will be able to conquer it, as long as you're there with him..

Wanderer

definitely the worst case out of all the others

but can you really blame him? He endured so much already, has experienced so much pain and heartbreak... can you blame him for not wanting to loose you as well, after he let you in?

it takes time and effort to convince him that your feelings for him are genuine and that you would never, ever leave him behind

it's not like he doesn't want to believe you. He really does, but he just can't imagine anyone being actually interested in him and wanting to maintain a relationship with someone like him...

like I said, time and effort is the key into his heart. And even once you managed to take your place there, he won't openly show it. He's awkward about those kinds of things, it's a whole 'nother issue

once you've successfully broken down the walls around his heart and marched your way in, he really can't handle being away from you for more than a few hours

as soon as you talk about leaving (be it to go to work, or groceries) he begins to feel anxious

because... what if you don't return after all? What if you finally realized how insufferable he is and you decided to not deal with it anymore? He knows you proclaim your love to him daily, but he can't help it

the doubts just start to act up like it's second nature to him, and no matter how hard he tries to suppress it, he can't seem to win against his own mind

his imagination runs wild, painting a hundred different scenarios on how you might leave him and run away

he wants to get up and out there, looking for you, but that would make him seem desperate and he most definitely does not want to be percieved in that way

so he sits it out at your shared home, trying to deal with all those intrusive thoughts in his head, intently watching the clock hanging on the wall, counting the minutes until your return

as soon as he hears the door opening, he is up and "greeting" you at the door

"Took you long enough. Where have you been all this time?"

he tries to sound indifferent, but to you, you can clearly tell that his voice lacks the ususal bite and he seems to be frantic

instead of an answer, you pull him into an embrace, lightly stroking his scalp

the Wanderer is taken by surprise at your actions, but that quickly fades and he melts into the touch, knowing that this was your silent reassurance to him

he acknowledges it, but doesn't comment on it

maybe one day, he'll be able to openly talk to you about everything that bothers him and be completely vulnerable to you. But that day is not now...

he just hopes that you can wait for him until this day finally arrives..

Tighnari

as cool and composed as the fox hybrid likes to think that he is, he has his weak moments as well

although... this problem probably won't arise until after the two of you are mated

he's not becoming overprotective of you and he's also not controlling or anything. He just.... he can't really deal with being alone anymore

in the past, before knowing you and even while dating you, it never really bothered him. He was used to not seeing you for a few days, sometimes even weeks, thanks to your position in the academiya

but now... he can't seem to deal with it anymore. Whenever you tell him that you have to leave for a few days, he dreads for those days to arrive

He's perfectly fine for the first two or three days, but anything that comes after that... total nightmare for him and his crew

He is restless, anxious, constantly thinking about you and your well being

Tighnari knows that you're more than capable of protecting yourself, but still! He's not there to protect you, how can he be sure that you're fine?

Sure, you write letters to him almost daily to keep him up to date and reassure him that you're fine... but what if those letters are written by someone else, who just happens to be extremely good at forging handwritings?

During that time period, Tighnari is also not able to sleep very well, if at all

he tosses and turns througout the entire night, hugging your pillow close to him, imaginig that it was you laying next to him, hugging him and stroking his back like you always do

he thought that this might help him to calm down, but all it does is increase his intense longing for you

he whines, calling out your name in the dead of the night, hoping that by some miracle, you would hear his cry and return to him

when you do come back to him, he doesn't care for any work he has to take care of that day

he will leave it for the other rangers to take care of, he has more important things to attend to now

namely, cuddling you in his bed, wrapping his tail around your thighs and burrying his nose in your neck, breathing in your scent that he missed so much while you were gone

he feels your fingers stroking along his back and he can't help the shiver that runs down his spine when you do so

he won't let you out of bed for the next few hours, after all... he has to make up for the days that you and him were separated..

Diluc

oh boy.. another one with a pretty bad case

Diluc has lost so many important things in his life, he couldn't bear losing you as well

He is a busy man, he knows he can't be by your side 24/7, even if he really wants nothing more

time spent with you is always the most treasured to him. With you, he always feels safe and loved. He had no idea how much he has missed feeling like this until you walked into his life

Now that he has those feelings back again... he won't trade them for anything else in this world

being as busy as he is, he doesn't really have much time to see you. Sometimes, you both go days without seeing each other, this fact made worse thanks to Diluc's unpredictable time management

only when his anxiety keeps getting worse, when thoughts from back then start to flood his mind again, does he give into his desires

in the dead of night, he seeks you out, knocking on your door, hoping, praying to the Archons above that you're not asleep yet

and it seems like his prayers were heard, as he can hear footsteps cautiously approaching the door

"It's me, darling. Please... can you open the door?", he calls before you even have the chance to ask who is out there

without hesitance, you open the door, seeing him standing there causes your heart to ache

without questioning him, you pull him inside, closing the door and then immediately turn to hug him. You instinctively know that he needs this right now

Diluc wastes no time in reciprocating your show of affection, burrying his face in your hair, breathing in and commiting your smell to his memory

standing here like this for a few minutes, you are the first to pull away, asking him to lay down with you

he nodds his head in agreement, following you to the bedroom where he pulls you close into him as soon as you are both comfortable on the bed

night like this have become a common occurance for you, knowing where the roots of his actions lie

without him having to ask for the much needed reassurance, you give it to him, trying to further the comfort with your touches to his arms and back, lightly stoking the skin there until his eyes start to grow heavy and he falls asleep

he has never told you the full story about the things that had happened in his past, and you don't pressure him to do so. Once he's ready, he will come to you on his own, you're sure of that

Until that day arrives.. you can wait and help him in any other way that he needs..

[lightbluetown]

looking back, i'm still really happy with izzy's death. a lot of different opinions have been floating around and, hey, this is mine. hell, his death is one of the main reasons i love this season so much

because season 2 is about ed reclaiming his own identity. he has to become the worst version of blackbeard in order to eventually become the best version of ed. ever since the very beginning he's been yearning for blackbeard's death. yet "blackbeard" isn't just ed's dark side-- it's a two-man-team with ed as the face and izzy holding the reins

in his final moments, izzy admits that he saw the façade of "blackbeard" as a shelter for his relationship with ed. a place where he was guaranteed to have control, where someone would always need him. he did everything in his power to protect "blackbeard" so that nothing could get in between what he had with ed

but "blackbeard" was always a ticking time bomb. not only did izzy not listen to ed, he didn't let ed listen to his own self. he used ed's weaknesses to serve his own interests. it was just a loop of izzy hurting ed and ed hurting him back, but izzy desperately needed to maintain this. it was all he had

and here's my favorite detail in this scene: right after he says this line is when stede comes back on deck. the weird fancy man who came out of nowhere and freed ed from the shackles of "blackbeard", who inadvertently destroyed izzy's world, silently walks in the background as izzy says:

he sees it now. as he told stede at jackie'z, he sees that stede is good for ed and that they balance each other out. he sees that loving stede is the best thing that's happened to ed. the darkness in ed that created "blackbeard" died during the storm and ed slowly started finding himself thanks to stede. sure, their relationship is awkward, but it's looking promising. izzy doesn't have a "blackbeard" to guard or to guide anymore. as he lets death drag him away, he's happy to take the last bit of "blackbeard" with him so ed can be completely free. having received so much love from his new family aboard the revenge, izzy is able to give ed and stede his blessing. it's a beautiful declaration of acceptance, repentance and encouragement

izzy, as a character, serves ed, who himself isn't even the main protagonist. for a supporting character to have an entire season build up to his death, all while allowing him to grow into the most comfortable and confident man he's ever been... getting to have closure and make amends... in my opinion, that's the greatest honor

[kurokens]

I'll Be There | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 2.6k

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: part 4 of In The Middle is here!! might be the longest part of this series, and of my entire blog tbf. i think i like it quite a lot, didn't know where i was going at first but i think it turned out great!! hopefully you will enjoy it. ofc this isn't the end hehe dw

not proof read

song rec: I'll Be There - Zitten

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious, insecure and self conscious reader, satoru is quite eloquent

It's been two weeks already, two excruating weeks of you not talking to the two men you once called your best friends. Your mutual friends tried telling you that you should give them a chance to explain themselves, that this was just a big misunderstanding. But they didn't understand, how hurt you were, and how painful it was for you. Of course, you wanted nothing more than to run back to them and forget about all of this but how could you? The people you trusted the most were talking behind your back, and it didn't seem like it was in a good way, and no misunderstanding could ever explain what you heard and erase the betrayal you felt. You were convinced of this, and you thought getting out of their life for good was the best option for all of you, no matter what anyone else said.

Or so you thought, because here you were, standing in front what used to be your home, a shaky hand raised to knock on a door you would usually unlock yourself. Your timid knocks echoed throughout the house and for a moment you felt a wave of doubt overwhelm you. What if you were making a mistake? What if they moved on? I mean after all Satoru's messages stopped flooding your phone after a while. Maybe you should just turn back and leave things as they were, because that's how things were meant to be, the two of them together, without you invading their personal space. But just as you were about to walk away Suguru's voice was heard, and your entire body froze, unable to take another step or make another move.

"No Toru, I doubt it's someone delivering us free pizza. Can you be serious for on-" The dark-haired man was not able to finish his sentence upon opening the door and seeing you standing in front of him.

The silence between you two was loud, way too loud for you, and yet you couldn't get yourself to open your mouth to say a word, just anything would do, and yet not even a breath could cross your lips.

"What's taking you so long? Fell in love with the delivery person or what?" Satoru joked, making his way towards the entrance, his mind and body going numb when he finally noticed what had his lover frozen in place.

"I," You started, trying your best to rack your brain in order to break this silence, to explain why you were there, to stop looking like an imbecile. And yet you couldn't, their eyes fixated on you paralised you and shook you to your core. "T'was a mistake, sorry for bothering, I'll just go." Was what you ended up letting out, the awkward silence and the stares getting to your head, making you doubt your decision to come here in the first place.

But before you could even take a step away you were pulled back onto something hard, rather warm, and shaking quite uncontrollably, which was crushing all of your bones. You try wiggling your way out, freeing your head from the strong grasp, that's then you heard sniffling and realised what was happening. Satoru was the one who stopped you from leaving, and was currently suffocating you in what was possibly the tightest hug you've ever received. He was full on sobbing, his head in the crook of your neck, trying his best to catch his breath but crying harder every time he caught a whiff of your scent. You were awkwardly standing there, not really knowing what to do with this sudden show of affection and outburst. But as if it was almost a second nature, and before your brain could stop you, you wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him back, which only caused Satoru to cry harder into you.

"Satoru, I think you should let go of them." Suguru tried getting the white-haired man off of you, which broke something in you and brought you back to reality and why you were here now.

"M'not gonna, m'never letting them go ever again, never, never" The youngest whined, tightening his embrace each time as if to prove his point.

"You're not the one who can decide this Toru. And you don't even know why they came in the first place." The raven-haired man reasoned, a hint of sadness at the thought of what made you come back here, scared it was to get the rest of your stuff to move out completely. "Why don't we let them in, and hear them out hm? Think you can do that?"

Reluctantly Satoru let go of you, only to bury his face into his lover's chest, his tears still flowing uncontrollably. Geto gently smiled at you before inviting you in. You hesitated a bit but finally entered, not able to refuse the oldest's pleading eyes. The way to the living room felt endless to you, the silence way too heavy for your liking, and Gojo's soft sobs not helping your nerves at all. After felt like an eternity you finally reached your destination, the two lovers sat on the couch leaving you your spot in your usual chair. You thought it took another lifetime before the silence was finally broken by Geto clearing his throat and starting the conversation.

"So, hm, I don't really know how to start the conversation. Honestly I didn't even think you would ever come back and hear us out, I'm not that prepared, so I will just go straight to the point, I'm sorry." He began his rambling, only serving in quickening your heartbeat even more, scared of the next words that will come out of his mouth. "We don't know exactly what you were refering to with your note, and what you heard. But we can promise you it's a misunderstanding, just a big, big, misunderstanding. You have to believe us, we will never ever hurt you."

"Oh really?" You snickered, the memories of what you've heard coming back to you in a flash, and hitting you in the face even harder than a truck. "So you saying it became unbearable to see me everyday, that you could no longer look at me in the eyes, let alone talk to me, is just a big misunderstanding??" Anger suddenly overflowing your system, replacing all the sadness and nervousness you could feel up until then.

The living room went silent once again, the two lovebirds in a shock at your words. Because surely if you heard this, then, you heard the rest right?? You knew how they felt? Was that what made you this upset? Did them being in love with you repulse you that much that it made you run away from them?? No, no, it couldn't be.

"You heard that?" Suguru breathed out.

"Yes, I did. A bit more difficult to pass this as a misunderstanding now isn't it?" You laughed bitterly.

"Then you know how we feel about you right?? Is that why you're upset?" He continued, still in shock.

"If by how you feel you mean that your hate me, then yes Geto. I know how you feel. And why are you acting so shocked? Is it that hard to believe that me learning my supposedly best friends hate me made me upset?? Or was it suppose to be something I was meant to be aware of from the beginning? Because you sure didn't let that show." You huffed, annoyed at the couple dumbstruck faces, like how dare they act so fucking shocked.

"YOU THINK WE HATE YOU?????????" Both them screamed in unison, the black-haired man having to physically restrain the other one from jumping on you. Their reactions calmed down your anger, only to turn it into confusion.

"Well yeah?? Why else would you say that shit?? Sorry I don't understand why you guys are so surprised right now?" You simply said, staring at them with nothing but confusion in your eyes.

"Oh my god, we do NOT hate you. Oh god. That couldn't be farther from the truth. Oh shit, I'm so relieved right now, I think I could faint." Suguru softly whispered. "Sweetheart, you couldn't be more wrong even if you wanted. Hate you?? Are you insane? We would NEVER hate you. Even with a gun against my head I don't think I could ever utter those words about you."

"I'm so confused, if you don't hate me then why the fuck would you say such things about me? Because there is no way you could be talking about someone else, I heard you say you couldn't bring it up because the person lived with you, and I'm the only one there." You asked, genuinely bewildered by this entire conversation.

"God, this is absolutely not how we wanted to do this, but I don't think we have much of a choice right now do we?" The oldest gently laughed, his smile almost contagious.

"We want you." Satoru suddenly blurted out, startling both of you.

"NO!" Suguru shouted, only to stop himself as if he said the worst thing ever, facepalming before he continued. "I mean yes, but, fuck Satoru this isn't what we talked about."

"They think we hate them! And you're taking way too long, beating around the bush and confusing them more and more. Look at what waiting got us into!! Do you just want them to walk out without knowing how we truly feel?" The youngest rebutted, barely containing himself from pouncing on you and declaring his love for you like he should have done a while ago.

"No.. But do you want to scare them off by just declaring our love for them like that? What we're about to say is not exactly something that is considered conventional in this society Toru. You don't want to startle them and overwhelm them with all our feelings." The raven-haired boy tried to reason.

"I know, but I don't want to hurt them more than we already did." The tallest pouted.

The two lover continued their conversation, as if you weren't there, not realising that they were doing exactly the opposite of what what they were talking about; confessing their unconditional love while being unawere of your dumbfounded self, growing redder and redder with each passing seconds.

"Hm, guys." You finally interrupted. "You know I'm still here, I once again can hear you, and quite correctly this time."

Both men freezed, looking at each other mortified. All of this time spent planning, and carefully rehearsing what they would tell you when they finally confessed, only to do it in such a manner. Suguru was decomposing himself, this house never felt hotter to him as it was right now.

"Haha, what if, you pretended you never heard that???" He chuckled shyly.

"Hm, that would be quite, difficult." You mumbled, your feet and hands suddenly a lot more interesting than the pair in front of you.

You saw something move in your peripheral vision, before a tuff of white hair made its way into your field of vision, Satoru now kneeling in front of you.

"Hey sweetcheek." He softly mouthed, taking your fidgeting hands into his, something that surprisingly eased your nerves. "I know this is quite sudden, and definitely not how we planned to do this, especially not Sugu. But what we said is true, we love you, so, so much. It was hard for us to process, because as Sugu said it, it's not really conventional in our society, so this was really confusing to us. Especially coming to terms with it, but when we realised we both felt the same way towards you, it felt like an evidence. You were the missing part in our life, and you leaving made this even clearer. We cannot function without you, we are too enamored with you to ever imagine a life without you in it. I wanted to just tell you, scream about how much I crave you and your love along Sugu's, but he made me realise this would be selfish. Because, as hard as it was for us to come to term with this, it might be even harder for you, especially if sprung into your face out of nowhere, which we ended up doing any way. And we're very sorry for this. But now that the cat is out of the bag, I want you to know that I love you, God, I love you so much. To think you thought we hated you break me, because there is not a shred of hatred in my body that could ever be directed towards you, and I know it's the same for Sugu. We love you, we love you, we love you." Satoru rambled, his eloquence shocking both you and Suguru.

"And we want you to know that you do not have to reciprocate our feelings, hell, you don't even have to consider them if you don't want to. We just wanted you to know, because that's something that was weighing down on us and we couldn't keep it from you any longer. We don't want this to affect our friendship even more than it already did. As Toru said we cannot function without you, and even if you don't reciprocate our feelings, we want to keep you in our life, because before anything else, you are our best friend, and this will never change. And you don't have to react or say anything about this sudden confession and outburst, you can take the time to think and let all of that sink in. We do not want to pressure you into anything you don't want. I'm so sorry we ended up dumping this on you like that. We had an entire plan prepared but we fucked up. And I'm so sorry we made you believe you were not welcomed in this house, because it's not the case I promise." Geto continued, joining Satoru at your feet, and leaving you no choice but to look at the both of them in the eyes again.

"I, hm, this a lot of information to handle all at once." You exhaled, now realising you've been holding your breath throughout the entirety of the two lovers' speech.

"We know, we're sorry." Suguru murmured, gently stroking your hand, a gesture widely appreciated right now.

"I'm gonna need some time, I think. I don't know what to say." You followed, ligthly squeezing their hands, as if to ground you a bit better in a reality that you were having a hard time to process.

"And we'll give you all the time you need, we've said that already." Satoru replied with a dreamy smile on his face, pleased to be able to have this proximity with you after so long apart.

"Thank you. I think I'll go now." You uttered, hardly moving from your spot despite your words.

"You're more than welcomed to stay here if you want, afterall, this is still your house." Suguru hummed, his face mirroring Satoru's lovestruck one.

"No, I'll go, I won't be able to think straight otherwise. But I'll come back, eventually." You breathed out, still unmoving, hardly understanding anything happening around you that wasn't the two men sitting in front of you.

"Ok, that's fine with us." The white-haired man answered, not moving an inch from his position or letting go of your hand, not helping you in your predicament. But how could he, when he finally could look at you how he longed to do for so long, and who was Suguru to chastise him when he felt the exact same way. Hence why they allowed themselves to endulge a little longer in the skinship they always craved for. You could always do all of your thinking and processing after, was what all of you silently thought and agreed on, just to relish on this moment for a little while longer.

[aajjks]

The price of Love (II)

synopsis. they say the price of love is dangerous, but jungkook would pay anything to buy your love, at any cost.

warnings. Yändêrê thěměs, öbsëssïön, därk thěměs, crèèpy, änxïêty, öbsëssïön ät fïrst sïght.

pairing: Yandere sugar daddy!jungkook x sugar baby female!reader

viewer discretion is advised, yandere stuff can be very triggering so read at your own risk, also let’s remember that this is purely fictional and this does not represent bts or jungkook irl.

note. Hello hello. SHARE FEEDBACK PLEASE AND IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, JUST REPLY UNDER THIS POST ONLY REPLY TO THIS POST.. THANK YOU ENJOY AND REMEMBER TO SEND ASKS FOR TPOL JK OR CHARACTERS.

part one x

Yerin was going to be dead meat.

You were definitely going to kill her, “i had a good time with you- yn is it?” The man’s voice pulls you out of your murderous thoughts, you blink and regain your focus on him.

“Ahh I’m so glad, Mr Jeon… I had fun too..” you give him a kind smile, “I’m sorry if i was too awkward… I just didn’t know we’d have to be alone together- and celebrate your birthday.”

Jungkook, the mysterious man gives you an amused look once again, you wonder to yourself, what’s so amusing about you?

“just call me Jungkook.”

“I didn’t mind it honestly… i got to know you.” He’s so blunt, you inhale, trying to stop your cheeks from heating up. You look around, everywhere but him.

“That’s kind of you.. haha..” you bite your lip, looking all over the luxurious interior of the restaurant. “Was the food up to your liking, yn?”

“Oh are you kidding me? This was the most delicious meal I’ve ever had in my life- i mean it was delicious.” Jungkook looks at you with his full attention.

“You are a very unique person yn.” He remarks suddenly and you feel so small under his heavy gaze.

He just means to say that you’re so cringey yn.

“Umm thank you..” you push your hair back, you feel so nervous.

“Well it’s getting late… and i have an early shift tomorrow so… allow me to leave?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond but raises his eyebrow, almost looking disappointed but maybe you’re reading too much into his expressions.

“Sorry, I meant to say that I should leave now… I hope you don’t mind?” You immediately correct your sentence and just keep on smiling lightly.

Hey stands up, without replying, “yes I know that actually but it would be really impolite of me to let you go alone at this hour, so allow me to drop you.”

“please?”

How does he even know that?

that’s the first thing that you mind registers, but as you watch his expressions soften, and a small smile on his lips, you give in.

Well, I would appreciate that because it’s really late and it would be hard for me to find an Uber… I appreciate it, J-Jungkook?”

The mans smile immediately widens, and his eyes shine.

Now he looks kind of cute.

“After you my lady.”

He was not as worse as you thought he was.

His company was actually really comfortable as you sit in his car and he drove, light conversation was actually very nice but his aura remained dominant and Intense.

You weren’t the one to shut up, but in his presence, you could barely speak without feeling nervous.

You just kept and answering his questions, playing with your fingers to ease your nerves. It was hard for you to maintain eye contact with him because he was just such an intense person for you.

Intense is the only way you can describe him.

Well, you don’t talk much do you?” Jungkook halts the car and focuses on you once again, you almost gasp in surprise, you were already home.

“oh, it’s nothing like that. Maybe I’m just tired but thank you so much seriously.” Jungkook nods his head. “hold on don’t leave yet.

You stop your movements.

It takes you by surprise when he suddenly asks you to not leave. You wait for him to say anything else but he gets out of the car.

You sit in silence and patiently wait.

“is everything all right?” You ask him when he opens your door for you, concern is all over your face and he notices it but he doesn’t say anything, but offers his hand to you.

“Just trying to be polite and maybe… charming.”

That makes you laugh as he gives you a shy smile.

“I appreciate that.” You hesitate to give him your hand, but then you look at him and do it.

“I really enjoyed my time with you tonight.” he makes a conversation again as you walk towards your home. You feel his eyes all over you, but it doesn’t creep you out.

He’s not looking at you like you are a piece of meat. Instead his Eyes are fixated on you, like you are of the jewel of the most precious crown in the world.

That is the only way you can describe it, even though it sounds so cliché.

“Honestly, thank you. I don’t know I guess I am too much to handle but I’m glad you enjoyed my company..” “But I swear to God, I am- oh I don’t even know why they couldn’t make it?”

Jungkook hums along as you finally stop. “I’m here now and I know I’ve said thank you so so many times but I… appreciate you for dropping me home.” Do you think the man for the nth time.

“when you absolutely didn’t have to, and you didn’t even let me pay for the meal.. thank you.”

Jungkook crosses his arms to his chest, his biceps flex effortlessly, the white shirt, makes him look so good as you finally notice him under the street lights.

The long locks on him looks so good.

He is a very attractive man maybe that’s why you’re so nervous around him, well, that’s not entirely the only reason he’s pretty famous around your country too, and he’s literally a billionaire.

How did you get so lucky?

“if you are checking me out, I don’t mind at all.”

There you go feeling embarrassed as he points you staring out.

“could I please have your number? I think I would like to see you again if you don’t mind….” he doesn’t waste the opportunity to ask for your phone number.

He really isn’t shy.

“Umm.. I… are you sure because I think I should let you know something..”

You inhale and exhale deeply

“I am so sorry but I don’t- I’m not really looking for romance right now.. as much as I enjoyed the dinner with you, I only came there because of my friend…”

maybe you were too honest about this, but he needed to know, “ trust me I get that.”

His smile doesn’t falter at all, “I appreciate your honesty but don’t worry I’m not looking for something so serious too… but I think I like you already..”

He is standing there looking at you, his smile makes him even more attractive, “ oh really well that’s great we could be friends..”

He stalks closer to you, and takes out his phone.

“so?”

“Oh right, well it’s ____________”

“OK now I should really go. Goodbye Jungkook.” The guy waves and waits for you to go inside of your home. He dials another number in his phone after typing your phone number.

And smiles to himself.

“oh, I know exactly what to do.”

Everything was going in his favor, just like he had wanted.

[asgardianhobbit98]

Four for Valentine: Week 3 "Eavesdropping"

Fandom: DC, Nightwing, Batfamily

Pairing: Nightwing / Female Reader

Important tags: Probably the most overdone trope in the world but hey, it’s Nightwing fluff, we deserve more Nightwing fluff; fluff; proposal; eavesdropping; established relationship; female reader.

Summary: You overhear Dick and Bruce talking on the phone and find out Dick is wanting to borrow money... This sets off some alarm bells in your mind as their relationship is so strained it must be something very important for Dick to ask for money. Turns out, though, that it's not all as bad as you thought it was...

Written for my "Four for Valentine" event 🩶🩷

Tag list: @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @knittastically @heilith @lathalea @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @nowandthane

if you want to be removed or added to my tag list, please let me know 🩷

You had been done with work maybe two minutes earlier than usual. Yet, in those few moments before he noticed you, you managed to overhear enough to scramble your brain completely.

Dick was on the phone with someone you deduced to be Bruce – not because you were in any way a detective like Dick, but because you literally overheard an annoyed ‘Bruce’ come from Dick’s mouth.

Awkwardly standing behind him, you listened in on what was going to become a life changing moment of eavesdropping.

It wasn’t like Dick had any secrets from you to begin with, so eavesdropping wasn’t perhaps the reason behind why you suddenly felt so awkward. It was more the fact that, quite honestly, Dick’s relationship with Bruce was.. complicated. And on top of that Bruce was a very intimidating character all on his own. So you didn’t want to interrupt in the slightest in fear that he might get annoyed with you (not that Bruce ever could get annoyed with you). So you stayed right there on the side of the street, staring at Richard’s back as you overheard everything…

“It needs to be perfect. She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, I can’t just give – But it’s just a little… Yes, I know. I know. I know what I said. I just can’t afford this one right now. I’ll pay back… Really? No, I want to pay back. Thank you Bruce. I mean it. I owe you one. No, I do. Thanks. Bye.”

Once he hung up, he turned to find you awkwardly stood behind him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, which was unusual as Dick was really difficult to scare. The man had a sixth sense or something, probably from his time at the academy.

“Did you just overhear-“

“No! Not at all,” you were quick to say.

But inside, that lie didn’t quite cover the beating of your heart and the worry spreading through your chest. Dick would never borrow money from Bruce because of their complicated relationship. So what was so important…

Assuming it was you that he was speaking of was something you were comfortable with. After all, this man had devoted himself to you since that day, three months into your relationship, that you’d caught him mid mental breakdown in the shower… and you had jumped in, clothes on, to just hold him. He went through so much. So much pain. So much anguish. He saw such horrors as a detective in Bludhaven. You just wanted to be there for him. So of course you were. Without judgement. Without fail. And apparently he’d had little to no such support before. Because from that day on, Dick had been in love with you.

You’d fallen for him a bit earlier, but once his love was locked in, you only fell deeper in love with him. He was so gentle, so caring, and so extremely goofy… Just to make you laugh, smile…

Perfection. He was perfection to you. And so, you didn’t feel it was a presumption to think he had been speaking about you. The only thing your brain was trying to figure out was what he was borrowing money for.

…

He drove you home, as always.

You didn’t live together yet, but you practically did.

On the days that he could get away from work to pick you up from your job, drive you home safe and walk you up to your door, and subsequently enter after you invited him in for dinner or a movie marathon or to just talk, Dick didn’t go home. He had clothes in your closet, his own set of towels, his own bar of soap. And you had the same objects in his flat.

Why the two of you didn’t live together yet was mainly because Dick was a little reluctant. Not in a bad way. But he was worried for your safety. He never brought his work home unless it was too much on him and he needed to talk or cry to you, but he was terrified that “work” would follow him home some day and it would put you in danger.

You weren’t quite sure why, considering Dick always managed to put everyone in jail. And if he didn’t, then Bludhaven’s protector, Nightwing, sure did. Still… you let him fret about your safety and you didn’t push him on the subject.

You hadn’t mentioned living together for three years now. It had turned into a comfortable routine to simply pretend to have daily sleepovers.

But as Dick walked you up to your door that afternoon, using his own key to unlock it for you, you were quieter than usual and forgot to offer the usual invite in.

He tried to ask if something was the matter but you just kept up the ‘no no! I’m okay!’ façade as best as you could.

The routine continued as normal for a while after that; the gentle homely everyday life the two of you had created, where Dick would sit himself down at the kitchen counter with some reports he wanted to finish, or read through, whilst he watched you cook happened just as always.

He cooked sometimes too in the beginning of your relationship but that hadn’t lasted long as he was, quite honestly, useless in the kitchen. You blamed his childhood where he’d literally had a butler. He blamed the fact that he was just better at other things. Whatever it was he was better at, you used to joke, you hadn’t seen it yet.

He’d always chuckle and pretend to be hurt before pressing kisses to your temple, hugging you tightly.

This evening was a little different from others though. He finished some reports. You cooked. He would look up and stare at you… And that was where the difference came in. You wanted to turn around and catch his gaze as usual, send him a little loving smile… But you didn’t. You were too caught up in the conversation you’d overheard, not sure why. Your mind was trying its hardest to come up with something: a reason for why Dick would borrow money for you…

Of course Dick noticed that. He was a detective, and a damned good one when it came to you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once more. There was a mixture between worry and haste in his words whilst he stood to move over to you.

You were absentmindedly stirring the boiling pasta which wasn’t needed as much as you were doing it, but it was something to avoid his loving gaze. He hugged you from behind, and you instantly leaned back into the hug, enjoying his little kisses and his little nibbles at your neck. “You’re quiet and you’re avoiding me. You never do that.”

True. Even if you were sad or upset about something, even him, then you’d never become distant.

Humming in delight at his show of affection, you let go of the wooden spoon and let your hands rest on his arms around you. “I’m sorry, Dick. I don’t mean to worry you.”

“So something is wrong?”

“No… I don’t know.”

He let go of you to gently turn you, catching your gaze with a tilt of his head. “What do you mean?”

You desperately reached out to hold his hands, just to touch something and to ground your thoughts a bit, because honestly you weren’t quite sure why you were so fixated on this but… you were.

“I guess I sorta overheard your phone call earlier…”

“Oh…” His eyes grew big, and he tensed.

Oh no.

“Love, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but why were you asking Bruce for money?”

Dick shook his head quickly, “Wait no, this isn’t…” Dick sighed. “Just. Stay there. Well, don’t let the food burn I guess but stay there.”

He suddenly rushed off, leaving you with more questions than anything else, really.

“Dick? Wait where are you going?”

He grabbed his jacket and just reassured you it was all okay and that you shouldn’t go anywhere… then he left.

Huh? You stood, dumbfounded, in the kitchen, pasta boiling, sauce bubbling…

And now you were less worried, and more confused. Dick hadn’t seemed weirded out or like he was off to never come back, he just seemed stressed about something not going his way and you really had no idea what was going on.

Fighting the urge to get a little upset about his lack of communication, you finished cooking and prepared two plates of food.

In the end, you ate yours all alone, and put his plate in the fridge for him.

You cleaned up the kitchen, you watched the sun go down over Bludhaven, you stared at the clock, you paced for a while, you tried to watch TV for a while…

Hours later, you gave up waiting and moved to the shower. You sent a couple of worried text messages with no response. You got ready for the night as best you could despite the growing pit in your stomach.

Did he run out for good after all?

Had something happened?

He had seemed stressed, maybe he didn’t drive safely?!

…

At some point during the night, you’d heard the key enter the slot and the front door open. It wasn’t like you could sleep, after all, so you’d propped yourself up on your elbows and waited. It was Dick’s footsteps that entered. He shifted around a bit by the door, then his steps disappeared into the flat.

Confused, and at this point a little hurt despite not knowing what to be hurt about, you just laid back down and turned onto your side.

What a strange day.

…

Not quite sure if you got a lot of sleep in or not, but at least aware that you had fallen asleep now that you knew Dick was safe, you were suddenly stirred awake by Dick crawling onto the bed.

He sat on his knees next to you, reaching for your shoulder to wake you, but paused when he noticed you move your head to look at him. It was dark as all hell in the room, so you only saw his shape for a while. Until he bent back to turn the lamp on behind him.

You squinted your eyes for a bit as they got used to the light, noticing him shift his hand to hold something out to you, but not seeing what until a bit later and…

Once you saw what it was, you just sort of stared.

There were even more questions in your mind now. He had run out for this!? Was this the thing he wanted to buy that he required Bruce’s help with!? If so, you understood why because… this ring looked expensive. Not only that, but you saw the little black box had an insignia from a rare jewellery store which one couldn’t find anywhere but in Gotham City.

Had Dick really gone all the way to Gotham just now to… “What’s this?” you asked, voice filled with sleep.

“A ring.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. “I know but… Dick, I asked earlier-“

“It was this. I saw this a couple days ago when I visited Bruce.”

Huh? When had Dick been to Gotham? So many questions…

“I wanted to get it for you. It’s… It’s perfect.” He was still sat there on his knees, both his hands holding the little black box open for you to see.

You were still half asleep in bed, head lifted from the pillow, sheets wrapped around your body snug. “What… Dick I don’t get it.”

“Marry me.”

OH.

“I mean…” Dick laughed a bit awkwardly, “Do you want to marry me?”

Were there still questions that you had? Yes. Many. And a lot of them were going to be answered those days before the wedding when Dick decided to come clean about his secrets, but for now… For now, you were elated.

This silly man had driven to Gotham to get the ring once he understood that you were beginning to get onto what he was planning… For what? Just so he could still surprise you?

Probably. He liked surprising you.

So of course you laughed. A little bit at him rather than anything else. He looked a little miffed by this reaction, so you were quick to sit up in bed and reach your hands out to lovingly cup his hands holding that… insanely expensive looking ring. Which you loved, by the way. Even if you were scared of wearing it in fear of breaking it.

“This is what this was all about?” you asked.

He nodded his head, his blue eyes clearly not quite sure yet of whether you were okay with this or not.

So, you were quick to smile at him and nod your head to ease his mind: “Yes, silly. Of course I want to marry you. You didn’t have to ask. And you didn’t have to get such an expensive ring. All I ever need is just you.”

He smiled. Oh did he smile. It only made this moment even more precious to see him smiling this much.

After three years with him you didn’t think you could see any new sides of his, but that smile… that smile was different than anything you’d ever seen before. That smile was adoring and devoted and close to crying all at once… and you loved it. It was a special smile, you’d find out. One that only happened during a couple of special moments in his life. Like right now when he looked at you through a new lens of love.

“All I ever need is you too. But I wanted to get you the most perfect ring, to show you how much you mean to me.” He leaned over and pressed a long, deep kiss to your lips, before pressing his forehead against yours, noses touching as he slipped the expensive ring onto your finger…

[brunchable]

The Morning After

Part I || Doctor Strange × f!reader × Steve Rogers

Word count: 7.5K Characters: Black Widow Reader, Strange, Rogers, The Avengers Summary: You wake up in Stephens bed after drinking the Asgardian Ale Thor brought from Asgard. Warning: One night stand, Love Triangle? A/N: The photo ain't mine, I saw it on pinterest and I thought. . . what if y/n woke up in Stephen's bed? Also inspired by this song lol. I think all of my fics is inspired by a song. HELP. This is a multiple part story. I hope you enjoy.

PART II [R18+]- Coming soon.

“Gather 'round, friends, it’s Thor, the God of Thunder, here to tell the tale of one fateful evening—a night when the legendary Asgardian Ale, brewed in the heart of the golden city. A brew so potent, it has brought down the fiercest of warriors, now, this tale is not of epic battles or heroic deeds, but rather of a night where this very ale claimed yet more victims from among the finest heroes of Earth.”

"Now, let me set the scene: it was a grand feast in the tower of the Man of Iron, where Midgard’s greatest heroes gathered to celebrate their triumphs. The mood was joyous, the laughter loud, and the drinks… well, the drinks were stronger than even the mightiest of Asgardians would dare admit!”

"Enter Doctor Stephen Strange, master of the mystic arts, and Y/N, the ever-resourceful Black Widow. Brave, cunning, formidable—yet even they were no match for the enchanting pull of the Asgardian Ale. Oh, they thought they could handle it, that it was just another drink… but little did they know, the ale had other plans!”

"And so, as the night wore on, the ale did its work. It loosened tongues, softened hearts, and—most importantly—muddled minds. By the time the moon had set and the sun was ready to rise, these two found themselves in a most… shall we say, unexpected situation.”

"For when the morning light crept through the windows of the Sanctum Sanctorum, the good Doctor and our dear Black Widow awoke to find themselves in a predicament that no amount of sorcery or spycraft could easily explain. There they were, side by side, both equally confused and—dare I say—horrified by the night’s unforeseen outcome!”

"What follows, dear friends, is a tale of confusion, awkwardness, and a series of events that might just lead to something more… or, at the very least, a very, very interesting morning."

× × × ×

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow that danced across the ornate rugs and ancient relics scattered around the room. Doctor Stephen Strange stirred, his mind still foggy from the remnants of sleep, feeling an unfamiliar weight on his arm. 

The silk sheets, usually cool and comforting, felt oddly warm and heavy. He shifted slightly, the soft rustling of the fabric the only sound in the stillness.

As he blinked his eyes open, the grogginess quickly gave way to sharp clarity, and he was greeted by a sight that immediately jolted him awake: You, the Black Widow, your tousled auburn hair splayed out on the pillow next to his. The vivid auburn strands created a stark contrast against the deep blue of the pillows, and the way the sunlight caught the strands made them seem to glow. 

His movements woke you up, your eyes, wide with shock, were locked onto his, mirroring the panic that he felt.

Stephen’s mind raced, trying to piece together the events that could have led to this surreal scenario. The faint scent of your perfume, mingled with the familiar, comforting smells of the Sanctum, filled his nostrils. The warmth of your body next to his was both foreign and startling, a stark reminder of the unexplainable situation he found himself in.

Simultaneously, you both glanced down at the sheets, lifting them cautiously. The sight underneath made your eyes widen further. 

You exchanged a horrified look, your faces a mirror of disbelief. Quickly, you dropped the sheets, looked at each other again, and then, as if needing confirmation, peeked under the sheets once more.

"AHHH!" Stephen screamed, jerking away from you.

"AHHH!" You echoed, scrambling to sit up, clutching the sheet to your chest. "What the hell, Strange?! Look away!"

"What the hell, Y/N?!" Stephen shouted back, equally horrified but with his head turned away from you. "Why are you in my bed?!"

“Your bed?!” You looked around, recognizing the distinctive décor of the Sanctum Sanctorum, “Why am I in your bed!?"

“Shit.” Stephen rubbed his face, still trying to wake up fully.

You both sat there for a moment, the awkward silence, the sound of Wong humming a catchy tune as he walked past the door with a tray of breakfast pastries resonated into the room. He paused, glanced into the room, and then continued on his way without a word, though his eyebrows were raised high enough to practically touch his hairline.

"This is not happening.” Stephen groaned, running his hands through his hair. 

You remained quiet, looking traumatized while staring into space, forcing your brain to form any recollection.

"Last thing I remember, we were having that ridiculous amounts of Thor's Asgardian ale. Then we. . . we—”

Suddenly Thor laughing in ridicule echoed in his head. You Midgardians truly are a delicate lot, he said.

“We what?!”

“Underestimated it. . .?”

Just then, Wong finally walked in, this time holding a tray with teapots and cups. He paused mid-step, his eyes darting between the two of you. 

"I see the Doctor is taking 'house calls' a bit too literally now," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Wong, this is not what it looks like!" Stephen exclaimed, scrambling to his feet, the sheets tangling around his legs and causing him to trip while trying to cover his bottom half. He flailed, grabbing onto a nearby chair for balance, only to have it tip over, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Very graceful.”

Wong shook his head, setting the tray down on a nearby table. "I've seen strange things in this Sanctum, but this... this takes the cake. Breakfast is ready, by the way.”

"Wong, I swear, I don't know how this happened.” Stephen managed to extricate himself from the sheets and stood up, his face a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. 

"Sure, you don't. Just like you didn't know how the Eye of Agamotto ended up in the fish tank last week?” Wong raised an eyebrow.��

“That was a magical mishap!" Stephen protested.

Wong chuckled, heading toward the door. "Well, whatever happened, you two might want to get dressed before the rest of the Avengers show up for the morning briefing. Can't wait to hear the explanation for this one.”

Without a word, Stephen quickly conjured a portal to another room, vanishing through it in a swirl of golden sparks to get dressed and, more importantly, to escape the awkwardness.

You hurried to get dressed as well, eager to avoid lingering in the uncomfortable silence, and made your way to the meeting room. 

As you head to descend the grand staircase, your mind is still racing, seeing Stephen without his clothes—an image you've never dared to imagine before. You turned a corner and—thud!—collided directly with Stephen, who had just stepped out from his portal.

"Whoa!" you both exclaimed simultaneously, your voices overlapping in a jumble of startled sounds.

There was a moment where you both froze, staring at each other, shocked to see each other so soon when you planned to avoid Stephen the rest of the day. . . or indefinitely. 

Stephen recovered first, awkwardly adjusting his cloak as though it might somehow smooth over the situation.

"Uh, sorry, I—didn't see you there," he stammered, trying to step aside and give you space.

"No, no, it's fine," you replied quickly, waving it off with a forced laugh that sounded more nervous than casual. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

You both tried to continue walking as if nothing had happened, but in your haste to act normal, you ended up sidestepping in the same direction, then awkwardly shuffling the opposite way, only to block each other again.

"After you," Stephen said, his voice a bit too high-pitched with forced politeness.

"No, no, you go ahead," you insisted, waving him forward, though your hand gesture came out more like a nervous flail.

Finally, after an excruciatingly long moment of shuffling and half-smiles, you managed to move past each other, continuing down the stairs at a brisk pace, trying to put as much distance as possible between yourselves. 

You both knew you'd failed miserably at playing it cool, but neither of you dared to look back or acknowledge it. As you reached the bottom of the stairs and headed toward the meeting room, you couldn’t help but wonder if this day could get any more embarrassing. Judging by the start, it seemed likely. 

× × × ×

As you entered together, Tony Stark was already there, phone in hand. He didn't say a word, just snapped a photo the moment you both walked in.

"Morning, lovebirds," Tony said with a mischievous grin.

You groaned, shaking your head. "Seriously, Stark?"

Tony laughed, pocketing his phone. "Oh, this one's for the highlight reel. Don't worry, I'll send you both a copy."

As you took your seats, trying to ignore Tony's teasing, Thor walked in, grinning broadly. "Well, well, looks like my ale claimed a couple more victims. Didn't I warn you about its strength?"

Stephen groaned. "We might have underestimated it a bit."

"A bit? I think I need a new liver." You grimaced, rubbing your right side.

"Next time, perhaps you two will heed my warning. Asgardian ale is not for the faint of heart!” Thor laughed heartily.

You rolled your eyes, still in a grimace. You didn't remember him giving an actual warning, "Thanks, Thor. We'll keep that in mind."

"Next time, we're sticking to the lightweight stuff. Like water." Stephen added.

"Wise choice. But where's the fun in that?” Thor shrugged.

Just then, Barton sauntered in, a wide grin on his face. "Hey, I heard we had a slumber party at the Sanctum last night. Everyone had fun?"

"What did I miss?” Wanda raised an eyebrow.

“Oh these two here tasted the might of my Asgardian Ale!" Thor declared proudly, slapping Stephen on the back so hard it nearly knocked him out of his chair.

You and Stephen exchanged a quick glance. "Something like that," Stephen said.

Thor nodded, grabbing a seat. "Ah, the joys of revelry. Once, I woke up in a field surrounded by screaming goats. No idea how I got there.”

"That sounds... interesting, Thor. Thank you for sharing." You say with your best sarcastic tone.

“You’re welcome. The best stories come from the nights you can't quite remember. Especially when you wake up in unusual company.” Thor laughed with cheer, obviously taking a jab at the situation.

Steve, who had been quietly observing with a smile at the corner of the room, suddenly narrowed his eyes, sensing the tension.

You sank into your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Tony, what did you do?”

"Sorry," Tony replied with an unapologetic grin, "I think I accidentally sent your highlight reel photo to that unwanted group chat Banner created.”

“Wow, thanks Tony.” Bruce mumbled.

"Great, just what we needed," Stephen muttered, rolling his eyes.

Cap, ever the gentleman, quickly stepped in to steer the conversation back on track. “Alright, since everyone is here, let's focus on the briefing. Stephen, how's the mystical side of things?” 

× × × 

Stephen cleared his throat, trying to compose himself and focus on the task at hand. "Right, uh... mystical threats. So, recently, we've had some minor disturbances in other dimensions, particularly around the... um…”

He trailed off, his mind suddenly flashing back to the previous night. He remembered the two of you huddled in a corner, both of you giggling like kids, as you attempted to teach him how to perform a simple card trick without using magic. You had insisted it was a basic skill every “sorcerer” should know, and despite his vast knowledge of the mystic arts, Stephen struggled with the sleight of hand. Each time he messed up, you would burst out laughing, and eventually, so did he, the two of you caught in a cycle of laughter that seemed endless.

 Stephen blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. "Uh, disturbances... yes. There was an issue with a, uh, pocket dimension, near the, um..." His voice wavered as another memory surfaced.

This time, it was the two of you back at the Sanctum, stumbling through the portal he had opened, both of you laughing hysterically at something neither of you could now recall. You had accidentally knocked over a priceless artifact, and instead of being concerned, you both had fallen into fits of uncontrollable laughter. The sound of your laughter echoed in his mind, making his heart skip a beat.

He coughed, desperately trying to get back on track. "Right, so the, uh... the pocket dimension. We managed to stabilize it, but there were... complications. Minor, really…”

But his voice faltered again as another memory slipped through. This one was quieter, more intimate. The two of you were sitting side by side on the balcony, sharing a drink. The atmosphere was calm, almost serene, as you both watched the flamingos fly away. You had leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder, and he remembered the warmth of your presence, the soft sound of your breathing in the quiet night. He couldn’t recall what you had said, but he remembered the way it made him feel—content, at peace, and something more that he wasn’t ready to name.

"Doctor Strange?" Steve’s voice cut through the haze, bringing him sharply back to the present.

"Uh, yes, sorry," Stephen stammered, feeling his face flush. "What I mean to say is... the mystical threats are... under control. Nothing major. Just a few minor disturbances that we've, uh, managed to contain.”

As he spoke, his eyes involuntarily drifted toward you, catching your gaze for just a split second before he quickly looked away, his face turning an unmistakable shade of pink. He turned his head abruptly, pretending to adjust his cloak to hide the blush that had crept up his cheeks.

"You sure everything’s alright in the mystical world, Doc?" Tony asked, the teasing tone in his voice barely concealed.

Stephen nodded quickly, trying to compose himself. "Yes, absolutely. Everything’s fine. No major threats. We’re good. All clear.”

But as he finished, another flash of the previous night’s events hit him—a quick, jumbled memory of you leaning in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered something that made his stomach flip. He had no idea what you had said, but the memory of your breath on his skin was enough to make his heart race all over again.

"All clear," he repeated, though the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. His mind was anything but clear. If anything, it was more muddled than ever, filled with fragmented memories that both excited and terrified him.

Steve, sensing something was off but choosing not to press, simply nodded. “Alright then. If there's nothing else, we'll wrap this up.”

Stephen exhaled in relief, glad the briefing was over, but as everyone began to file out, Tony's grin only grew wider. He had clearly picked up on Stephen's discomfort. 

As you stood to leave, Stephen risked one last glance at you, his heart still racing. You were avoiding his gaze, your expression unreadable, but he could tell you were just as distracted as he was.

× × × ×

After the meeting wrapped up, the Avengers began to disperse, each heading off to their respective tasks. Just as you were about to leave, you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you saw Steve Rogers standing there, his usual calm demeanor in place, but there was something softer in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Y/N," Steve began, his voice gentle but carrying that unmistakable authority. "Got a minute?”

"Of course, Cap. What’s up?” You nodded, though you felt your heart skipped a beat. 

Steve smiled slightly at the use of his nickname, "I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little… distracted today. Is everything alright?”

"Yeah, just… you know, last night's party and all that. Still trying to shake off the effects.” You hesitated, trying to decide how much to share.

"I understand. But if there’s anything more to it, you know you can talk to me, right?” Steve nodded slowly, but the way his gaze was glued on you made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced. 

“Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that. Really, though, it’s nothing major.” You offered a small smile, appreciating his concern.

Steve studied you for a moment, his blue eyes holding an intensity that made your heart flutter. He seemed to be debating something internally before he finally spoke again, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Listen, Y/N… I was about to head back to the compound, and I was wondering… do you need a ride?” 

"A ride? On your motorcycle?” 

Steve nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. I know it’s not the usual mode of transport around here, but I thought you might like some fresh air. Clear your head a bit."

“That sounds nice, actually. I could use a little fresh air.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of riding with Steve on his motorcycle. It was such a classic, straightforward gesture—so very Steve.

“Great,” Steve said, and you could hear the relief in his voice, “Shall we?”

As you walked out toward the front of the Sanctum Sanctorum, your thoughts still spinning from the day’s events, you heard a voice call out your name.

“Y/N, wait,” Stephen’s voice, a little rushed and breathless, echoed through the hallway. 

You turned around to see him approaching, his expression serious but laced with something else—something you couldn’t quite place.

“Stephen?” you said, your hand resting on the doorframe. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” Stephen hesitated, his eyes flicking from your face to somewhere over your shoulder, where Steve was waiting by his motorcycle. He seemed to be searching for the right words, but they didn’t come easily. His brow furrowed slightly as if he was wrestling with something internally.

You waited, feeling the weight of the silence stretching between you. There was a tightness in your chest, a nagging sense that something important was about to be said. 

You took a small step closer, trying to catch his gaze, but his eyes kept darting away, unable to meet yours for more than a fleeting moment.

“Stephen?” you prompted gently, your voice softening as you tried to encourage him. “What is it?”

He finally looked at you, really looked at you, and for a split second, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a carefully guarded expression, but that momentary glimpse was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“I just wanted to have a quick chat before you head out,” Stephen finally said, though his voice was quieter than before, almost as if he was second-guessing his decision to speak up. “It won’t take long.”

The hesitation in his voice was palpable, and it only added to the growing tension between you. You could see the conflict in his expression—the way his jaw tightened, the way his hand flexed slightly at his side, as if he was holding himself back from saying something more.

You nodded, though a part of you was still trying to decipher the emotions playing across his face. “Sure, no problem.”

As you turned back to Steve, you caught a glimpse of him watching the exchange with a blank, unreadable expression, but it’s obvious that he was paying close attention. The realization that both men were acutely aware of each other’s presence only added another layer into your growing anxiety.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” you said to Steve, forcing a smile that you hoped would mask the unease that was creeping into your chest.

“Take your time. I’ll be right here,” Steve replied, his voice steady and reassuring, but his gaze lingered on Stephen for a moment longer before returning to you.

You offered Steve a grateful nod before turning back to Stephen, who had already started walking toward a quieter corner of the main hall. As you followed him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation than either of you were willing to admit.

Once you were alone, Stephen stopped, his back to you for a moment as he seemed to gather his thoughts. When he finally turned to face you, his expression was conflicted, his usual confidence replaced by uncertainty since he doesn't know where or how to place himself.

"I just… I wanted to make sure everything’s okay between us after this morning," he began, his voice careful, measured. "I know things are a bit… awkward.”

There was a pause, and in that silence, you tried to read the emotions flickering across his face. His eyes, usually so focused and intense, were softer now. It was as if he was waiting for you to give him some kind of reassurance, something to ease the tension that had settled between you.

"I mean, everything's been chaotic," you replied, your own voice laced with a nervous edge, "but I don’t want it to make things weird between us either.”

Stephen nodded, though you could see the way his shoulders tensed slightly, as if he was bracing himself for something. "Yeah, I feel the same way. It’s just… I’ve been trying to piece together what happened last night. . .”

His words hung in the air, unfinished, as he hesitated again. You could sense the unspoken question lingering behind his words, the uncertainty that mirrored your own. But even as he spoke, his eyes searched yours, as if looking for an answer that neither of you were ready to give.

“It’s pretty clear what happened,” you interjected, your tone firmer than you intended. “I think it’s best if we just leave it as it is. . . My mind is already a mess, I just need some time.”

Stephen’s heart sank at your response, but he tried to hide it, his expression tightening for just a moment before he forced a nod. The disappointment that flickered across his face was subtle, but it was there, and it made your stomach twist with guilt.

He had hoped—needed—there to be more to say, a way to unravel the confusion that had been left hanging between you both, but your words made it clear that you preferred to bury the past, to move on without digging deeper. 

It wasn’t the answer he had wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to challenge it.

“Yeah… maybe you’re right,” he finally said, though the words felt hollow as they left his lips.

A heavy silence settled between you. Stephen opened his mouth as if to say something more, but then closed it, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. The weight of unspoken thoughts and unacknowledged feelings hung heavily in the air, filling the space between you with a tension that neither of you knew how to break.

You searched his face one last time, trying to understand the depth of what he wasn’t saying, but his expression had shifted back to that carefully controlled neutrality. Whatever he had been about to say, he had chosen to keep it to himself.

Finally, you took a small step back, glancing toward the door where Steve was waiting. “I should probably go. Steve’s waiting.”

At the mention of Steve, Stephen’s heart gave another uncomfortable lurch, and this time, he couldn’t completely mask the flicker of jealousy that crossed his face. It was brief, barely noticeable, but you caught it.

“Yeah, of course,” Stephen said, his voice more strained than before. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

You offered him a small, apologetic smile, sensing the shift in his mood but feeling it was necessary to draw a line. “Thanks for understanding, Stephen. I appreciate it.”

He gave a nod, though the word “anytime” felt almost like an afterthought, his voice lacking the usual warmth. There was something deeply unsettling about the way this conversation had ended, but you knew that pressing further might only complicate things even more.

With that, you turned and walked out of the room, leaving Stephen standing there, his thoughts a chaotic mix of regret and uncertainty. 

He watched as you joined Steve outside, noting the way Steve’s face lit up slightly when he saw you. The two of you exchanged a few words, and then Steve handed you the helmet with a warm, reassuring smile.

Stephen’s heart twisted painfully as he watched you climb onto the motorcycle behind Steve, your arms wrapping around his waist as you settled in. The sight of the two of you together, so close and comfortable, stirred a deep sense of jealousy within him—something he hadn’t expected to feel so intensely. 

He had kept his feelings hidden for so long, not wanting to complicate the dynamic between you, but seeing you with Steve, even for a brief moment, made him wonder if he had waited too long.

As the motorcycle roared to life and sped down the street, Stephen stood there, alone in the quiet Sanctum, grappling with the realization that he might have missed his chance to tell you how he really felt—a part of him couldn’t shake the thought that maybe forgetting wasn’t the best idea after all.

And as Steve drove, he glanced briefly in his side mirror, catching a glimpse of Stephen standing in the doorway, watching you both leave. Steve’s grip on the handlebars tightened slightly, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to focus on the road ahead. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the ride back to the compound had become far more complicated than he’d anticipated.

While the motorcycle sped down the road, the world around you seemed to blur into a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, guilt, and something deeper that you weren’t ready to face. 

You tightened your grip around Steve’s waist, trying to ground yourself in the present, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the look on Stephen’s face, the things you didn't give him a chance to say. And with each passing mile, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right choice—or if you were leaving something important behind.

× × × ×

The motorcycle roared down the winding roads, the wind rushing past you as you clung to Steve’s solid frame. The world around you blurred into streaks of color—trees, buildings, the sky—yet the rush of the ride did little to quiet the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind.

You should have felt the thrill of the ride, the freedom of the open road, but instead, all you could focus on was the conversation with Stephen. The way he hesitated, the way his eyes darted away from yours, as if he was hiding something—no, not hiding, holding back. The tension in his voice had been undeniable, and now, as you sped away from the Sanctum, you couldn’t help but wonder what he had really wanted to say.

Being Black Widow, you were trained to compartmentalize, to push emotions aside when necessary. But the events of the morning, combined with the tension between you, Stephen, and Steve, made it hard to keep everything neatly locked away. Stephen’s hesitation, his guarded expression, and Steve’s quiet concern—these were things you couldn’t easily ignore.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Steve turned slightly, his voice carrying over the noise of the motorcycle. "You okay back there?" he asked, his tone gentle, but with an undercurrent of concern.

You realized you’d been holding your breath and quickly exhaled, trying to shake off the lingering tension. "Yeah," you called back, forcing a smile that you knew he couldn’t see. "Just… a lot on my mind."

Steve nodded, though you could feel the way his body tensed slightly beneath your grip, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced by your answer. He knew you too well; he could sense when something was deeply weighing on your mind. "If you want to talk about it…"

His offer hung in the air, but you didn’t respond right away. What could you say? That you were torn between the memory of a night you couldn’t fully recall? That you were struggling to untangle your own emotions, not knowing if you should pursue them or let them go?

The motorcycle continued down a long, empty stretch of road, and you assumed you were headed straight for the compound. But after a few moments, you noticed Steve taking a turn down a road that didn’t lead in the direction of the compound. It wasn’t the familiar path back—this road led toward the outskirts of the city, a more secluded area.

"Steve?" you called, a note of curiosity creeping into your voice. "Where are we going?"

Steve didn’t answer right away, his focus on the road ahead, but you could sense the deliberateness in his actions. After a moment, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm but with a hint of something more—something determined. 

"Thought we could use a detour. Clear your head a bit before we head back. I think you need it”

Steve continued down the road, the city slowly fading away behind you. The landscape became more open, with rolling hills and patches of forest lining the sides of the road. It was a route you hadn’t taken before, and the unfamiliarity of it was oddly comforting—a break from the routine, a moment to breathe.

After a while, Steve slowed the motorcycle, turning onto a narrow, tree-lined path. The air was cooler here, the dense foliage creating a canopy overhead. Eventually, he brought the bike to a stop in a small clearing by a quiet, shimmering lake. The water was calm, reflecting the sky and the surrounding trees in perfect stillness.

Steve cut the engine, and for a moment, the silence was overwhelming. You both sat there, the only sounds being the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. It was peaceful, almost surreal, after the whirlwind of emotions and confusion you’d been dealing with all morning. He took off his helmet and dismounted, looking back at you with a soft hesitant smile. 

"I figured you might need a break. This place… it’s always been somewhere I go when I need to think."

You followed suit, removing your helmet and stepping off the bike. The ground felt solid beneath your feet, and the cool breeze off the lake was refreshing, grounding you in the present moment. 

"It’s beautiful," you said softly, taking in the serene surroundings. "I didn’t know a place like this existed around here."

Steve nodded, his gaze fixed on the tranquil water. "Not many people do. It’s kind of a hidden spot, but it’s been here for as long as I can remember. I come here sometimes. When things get… complicated."

You glanced at him, his words resonating more than he might have realized. "It’s peaceful," you acknowledged, though your tone was still guarded, your mind alert even in this serene environment.

Steve watched you closely, his expression understanding. "You don’t have to talk about what’s on your mind," he offered, his voice gentle. "But I’m here if you need to."

It was a simple statement, but it carried weight. You were used to relying on yourself, keeping others at arm’s length. But Steve’s quiet presence, his never-ending support—it was different. Disarming, in a way you weren’t accustomed to.

There had been a time, not too long ago, when you had harbored a crush on Steve—a deep, confusing mix of admiration and affection that you had tried hard to push down. He was Captain America, after all—the embodiment of everything good and noble, and for a while, you couldn’t help but be drawn to him. 

But you had convinced yourself that his heart belonged to someone else, that he was still in love with Peggy Carter, the woman from his past who seemed to cast a long shadow over his present. You had seen the way he looked at Peggy’s picture, the way he spoke about her with such reverence, and it had made you believe there was no room in his heart for anyone else.

So you had buried those feelings, told yourself it was better to move on, to focus on your work, on the missions. You had even started to convince yourself that those feelings had faded, that they were nothing more than a fleeting infatuation. But now, standing here with Steve, you felt them stir again, refusing to stay buried.

And then there was Stephen. Your growing affections for him had caught you off guard—what started as a mutual respect for his intellect and strength had slowly turned into something more, something you hadn’t quite been ready to confront. 

The way he could be both infuriatingly arrogant and deeply compassionate, the way he had made you laugh at the party, the way his presence had a grounding effect on you—it had all begun to carve out a space in your heart that you hadn’t anticipated.

"It’s not easy to sort through," you admitted, your voice low, almost reluctant. "There’s a lot to unpack."

Steve nodded, his gaze steady. "You don’t have to unpack it all at once," he said quietly. "Take it as it comes."

His words were kind, but there was an undercurrent of something more—a tension that hummed just beneath the surface. 

You met his eyes, and for a moment, the usual defenses you kept so firmly in place wavered. Steve’s patience, his willingness to let you take things at your own pace—it was a kind of understanding that you weren’t used to, and it made the knot in your chest loosen, just a little.

But as the silence stretched on, you couldn’t ignore the way Steve’s gaze lingered on you, the way his jaw tightened slightly, as if he too was conflicted by something. There was something he wasn’t saying, something that made the air between you feel charged, like the calm before a storm.

You felt a pang of guilt as you remembered the way Stephen had looked at you that morning, the way his voice had faltered when he tried to talk about what had happened. 

And now, here you were with Steve, who was looking at you with that same unspoken emotion in his eyes—only this time, it felt different. More complicated.

"Steve…" you began, unsure of what you wanted to say, but needing to break the silence that was becoming increasingly heavy. "I appreciate you bringing me here, but…"

"But you’re thinking about Stephen," Steve finished for you, his voice quieter now, his eyes darkening with something you couldn’t quite place—was it hurt? Jealousy?

You blinked, taken aback by his directness. "It’s not like that," you said quickly, but even as you spoke the words, you weren’t entirely sure they were true.

Steve turned away slightly, his gaze drifting out over the lake, but his expression was tense. "Maybe not. But something happened last night, didn’t it? Between you and him.”

You didn’t answer right away, the truth of his words settling heavily between you. "I don’t know what happened," you finally admitted. "It’s all a blur."

“But it’s on your mind,” Steve pressed gently, though there was a tension in his voice that hadn’t been there before. 

You tilted your head, sensing the shift but not fully understanding its source. "You’re acting a little… weird, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes flicked away from yours, out over the lake, as if gathering his thoughts. "Weird? No, not weird," he said, "Just… trying to figure something out.”

"Figure out what?" you pressed, genuinely confused. You knew Steve well enough to recognize when something was bothering him, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was this time. "Is it about the mission? Or something with the team?”

Steve exhaled slowly, his shoulders tensing as he processed your words. He wasn’t angry—not exactly—but there was a quiet intensity in the way he looked at you now, a mix of emotions that made your heart race. 

"It’s not the mission," he said finally, his voice low but steady. "It’s about you.”

"Me?" you repeated, caught off guard. "What about me?”

"You and Stephen," Steve clarified. There was no accusation in his tone, but it was clear that something about the situation was weighing heavily on him. "I saw the way he looked at you this morning. And I saw the way you looked at him.”

"Steve, I—”

"You’re on his mind, Y/N," Steve interrupted, his voice softening, but the tension in his posture remained. "And he’s on yours. I can see it.”

There was no use denying it, not when Steve was looking at you with that penetrating gaze, as if he could see right through you. “Yeah,” you said softly. “He is.”

"I can’t compete with that," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You frowned, still not quite understanding where this was coming from. “Why would you need to compete, Steve, what are you talking about?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. When he finally did, his voice was rougher, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. "I care about you, Y/N. More than I probably should. But seeing you with Stephen… it made me realize that maybe I’m too late. Maybe I should've just been honest from the start.”

The air seemed to leave your lungs as his words sunk in. “Steve..”

“I didn’t want to say anything," Steve continued, his eyes still focused on the water, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I didn’t want to make things complicated between us. But now… I can’t pretend I don’t feel this way. I can’t pretend that knowing that something happened between you with him doesn’t… doesn’t hurt.”

You stood there, stunned into silence. Steve’s confession was the last thing you had expected, and the weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders. You had always known Steve cared about you, but this… this was something entirely different. And it brought all those buried feelings rushing back, feelings you had tried so hard to forget because you thought his heart was already spoken for.

But then there was Stephen, who had slowly, subtly made his way into your heart. The warmth of his smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he could make you laugh even in the direst situations—it all made it impossible to ignore the connection that had been growing between you two. 

And now, you found yourself standing at a crossroads, torn between the man you adore and the man who had become an unexpected part of your life.

"Steve, I didn’t know," you whispered, your voice shaky with the shock of his sudden confession. "I never thought…"

"I know," Steve said quickly, finally turning to look at you. "I know you didn’t. And I don’t blame you for that. But now that it’s out there… I just need you to know. I need you to know how I feel about you.”

The raw honesty in his voice made your heart ache, and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly at a loss for words. You had always seen Steve as your rock, your steady, unflappable friend, but now, standing in front of you, he seemed almost fragile, vulnerable in a way you had never seen before.

"I don’t want to lose you," Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself leaning into his palm, the closeness between you suddenly overwhelming. His thumb brushed softly against your skin, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. 

"But I don’t want to stand in your way, either. If you have feelings for Stephen… if you want to be with him… I’ll step back. I’ll let you go.”

His words broke something inside you, and you felt tears sting your eyes, though you fought to hold them back. The way Steve was looking at you—so full of raw emotion, so open and unguarded—made your heart twist painfully in your chest. 

"I don’t know what to say— I don’t want to lose you either.” you said, your voice trembling.

Steve’s face was so close to yours now that his forehead touched yours and you could feel his breath on your skin, the warmth of it sending a surge of conflicting emotions through you. 

For a moment, you thought he might kiss you—there was a part of you that wanted him to—but he didn’t. Instead, he just held you there, his hand still cradling your cheek, his eyes filled with an emotion that you thought would look at you that way.

"You won’t lose me," Steve promised, his voice low and full of conviction. But there was a vulnerability in his words, a silent plea for you to understand just how much you meant to him. The weight of it settled heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.

Your mind raced, caught between the intensity of the moment and the memories of everything that had led up to this. You remembered the times you’d watched Steve from afar, admiring his strength and kindness, wishing for something more but always telling yourself it could never be. And then there were the recent moments with Stephen—the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you during the party, the connection that had grown between you when you hadn’t even been looking for it.

"I… I don’t know what to do, Steve," you admitted, chuckling as a way to cope. "I care about you, I really do.”

Steve’s eyes flickered with something—understanding, pain, maybe both. "It’s okay," he said softly, though you could hear the strain in his voice. "I just needed you to know. Whatever happens, I’m here for you. I always will be.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten with emotion. How had things become so complicated? You had tried so hard to move on from your feelings for Steve, to protect yourself from the heartache of unrequited love. And then Stephen had come into the picture, turning your world upside down in ways you hadn’t expected. Now, the idea of hurting either of them made you feel sick to your stomach, but you knew that avoiding the truth wasn’t an option either.

You reached up and placed your hand over Steve’s, still cupping your cheek, and the warmth of his skin against yours was both comforting and confusing. 

"Steve, I… I need time to figure this out," you said, your voice shaking with the weight of your own indecision. "I’m so torn right now.”

Steve nodded slowly, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek one last time before he let his hand drop. 

“Take all the time you need,” he said, though there was a trace of sadness in his eyes, “Whatever outcome you choose, I won't change, I'll still care for you just like how I do now.”

× × × ×

Stephen paced back and forth in the Sanctum’s main hall, his thoughts tangled and uneasy. The morning’s events had left him shaken, not just because of the unexpected situation he had woken up to, but because of the emotions that had surfaced in its wake. He had tried to push them aside, focusing on the day’s tasks, but every time his mind wandered, it inevitably drifted back to you—your shocked expression, your voice as you insisted that it would be better to forget what had happened, and the lingering warmth of your presence beside him.

He needed to understand. Not just what happened, but to confirm he doesn't want to let this go easy. After last night. . . he thinks he’s now in love with you.

Stephen leaned back in his chair, his thoughts racing. There was a spell he could use—Memoratus Arcanum, a memory recall spell. It wasn’t a spell he used lightly, but this wasn’t a decision he was taking lightly either. 

The spell would allow him to relive the events of the previous night with perfect clarity, to see everything as it had happened, unclouded by the fog of alcohol. Most importantly, it would help him understand the feelings that had been awakened in him.

With a steadying breath, Stephen stood up and moved to a small table in the corner of the room. The study was filled with the familiar scent of old books and the faint, lingering aroma of incense—comforting smells that helped him focus. He gathered the items he needed for the spell: a small silver mirror, an incantation sheet and a candle to help center his thoughts.

He set the items on the table and sat down cross-legged in front of them, the silver mirror resting in front of him. Lighting the candle, he watched the flame flicker for a moment before closing his eyes, centering himself as he began to chant the incantation. The words flowed easily from his lips, a familiar rhythm that calmed his racing thoughts.

As he finished the incantation, the mirror’s surface began to shimmer, the room around him fading as the spell took hold. The mirror now showed the swirling mists of memory, and Stephen leaned in closer, his heart beating faster as the mists cleared to reveal the events of the previous night. . .

[shakingparadigm]

Hiiii!!! I’m relatively new to ALNST (as in I watched it all in one go in one night and cried) and I was wondering if you have any opinions or information about this,

What do you think about Till and Sua’s relationship? Do you think they’d share anything in common? Do you think they’d like each other? I’d like to think there’s at least one thing they share in common that’s led to be on good terms.

Sorry this is a bit long, thank you!

First of all, thank you anon. I've had thoughts on this for a while! Thanks for giving me a chance to talk about it!

Till and Sua don't often interact in canon, so it's pretty easy to assume that Sua would hate Till's guts because of his crush on Mizi (especially since that art of Mizi playing with Till includes Sua looking jealous on the side, sulking in the next page).

But something to note about the characters in ALNST is that they're actually quite respectful of each other despite the crush conflict (further seen by Ivan and Mizi being very friendly despite Ivan knowing Till loves Mizi). Everyone in the garden knew Till had a crush on Mizi, the goodbye notes state that it was very obvious.

Yet despite that one instance of Sua pouting at Mizi and Till together, Sua is never shown to dislike Till. In fact, she seems to be more conflicted with Ivan instead. In the few official arts we have of them together, they seem pretty neutral.

(Sua's collar is green, showing she's comfortable/doesn't mind Till. Till's collar is orange most likely because he's a little nervous/awkward.)

In the official Anakt Kit goodbye letters, Till and Sua write messages to each other. They're short and seem more of a polite gesture than an actual goodbye between friends, but nothenless it shows that they're pretty amicable. Till writes that Sua has a nice voice and that he hopes she gets a high score in Alien Stage, while Sua tells him to take care and that she'll see him there.

I think that Sua and Till actually have the potential to be pretty good friends, strangely enough.

As for similarities, there are quite a few!

The most significant similarity I see between Till and Sua is that they're both deeply sensitive. Due to this, they've developed different defense mechanisms in order to protect their feelings.

Till is actually known to be timid, rather closed off and "cold" to others. In an early stream, he's even stated to be the most timid character of the cast. He only reveals his energetic and fiery side when he's putting his full passion into something like performing his music, when he's provoked, or whenever Mizi is involved (she makes him "strong", the creators say). Of course this standoffish and aggressive behavior is a front for his softer, more vulnerable feelings. He was heavily mistreated as a child, which led him to become distrustful of most people. This plus other factors regarding his rebellious nature and more eccentric personality result in him being a "friendless idiot". Of course, once people get to know him they'll find that Till is actually quite the sweetheart, albeit a bit awkward.

Sua is quite similar in this way. The creators describe her as soft-hearted, which is why she tears up so quickly in the IvanSua comic and the aforementioned art of Till and Mizi playing together.

Sua, just like Till, seems to be mistreated by her alien guardian. Although to a less violent extent than Guardian Urak, Sua's parent is seen to aggressively handle her without care, grabbing her by the head and shoving her forward. She's also placed in uncomfortable clothing and neglected without consideration for her own feelings. It may be due to this cold and lonely upbringing that Sua learned to hide her emotions as a coping mechanism.

It's been said that getting to know more about Sua is very difficult, as she's closed off and only ever opens up to Mizi. She seems cold on the surface, but the truth is she is hiding her sensitivity so that she won't get hurt. Sua is also very timid in nature, seen in how she only writes in the corners of people's yearbook pages with small font, putting in extra effort to not take up too much space.

But just like Till, Sua has her bolder side. Occasionally she's known to say very blunt and suprising things that other people would not expect of her, and she feels very deeply for the people she cares about. Sua may be the more cool and collected half of MiziSua, but we must not forget that she was tender-hearted to the point where she could not imagine living a life without Mizi in it, thus her sacrifice.

Both Sua and Till's original colors are white, and both are the only characters in the main cast who have ear piercings/earrings. They're both prone to tears and play the role of "god" in their respective relationships.

Something I really like about the ALNST offrec/actor AU is that among all the characters, Till and Sua were chosen to be the seniors!! I found it really cute! Sua, who is the most petite and smallest of the cast + Till, who in canon is the youngest in age. These two are actually the experienced seniors of the actor AU! It's so fun to me lol

Anyways, sorry for all of this, maybe it was a bit much, haha. Till and Sua are my two favorites, and I've always seen similarities between the two of them. I think there's similarities across several of the characters in ALNST, actually, which I hope to talk about in the future!

Thank you for the ask!!

[cxtori]

Michizo Tachihara ✮ Rest

summary: Living a double life is hard and sometimes Tachihara just needs a break. Which is why he’s lucky to have you 

genre: not really angst but not really fluff either, kinda just, melancholic? Yeah, let’s go with that. Hurt and comfort? Idk man.

wc: 1.3k

warnings: SPOILERS for Tachihara’s character. all covered in season 4 of the anime so if you’re caught up in reading/watching you’re all good!

tori’s note: I love Tachihara soooo muuuuuuch. I was so happy with the screen time he got in season 4 and 5. I hope he comes back 🥹

Playing the part for both sides is exhausting. More so than he ever imagined it would be. 

Being a spy for the Hunting Dogs, being a member of the Port Mafia. Two identities that contradict each other, and he was somehow keeping up both.

Most days he could manage, shove aside the conflict enough to continue on. To do his job. To rest.

But then there were nights like tonight, when the weight of both responsibilities proved to be too much. When the thought of going to his mafia apartment or his Hunting Dog dorm was nauseating.

It was nights like tonight, when he needed a break from his double life, when he needed time to just exist, that he came to you.

He never told you about his being a mafia member or a military agent. You only knew him as Michizo Tachihara, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could.

He knows you have questions, that you’re concerned, and he hates hiding such a large part of himself from you. He hates lying to you. But he can’t tell you the truth, not now. Partially for his own selfish desires, but also for your safety. 

You have your suspicions. There are only so many things he could be out doing all day and all night. Things that require secrecy, that result in him having minor injuries, that he refuses to share with you.

You used to ask questions, lots of them actually. But most of the time you were met with silence, odd excuses, or he would just outright say he couldn’t tell you. You eventually gave up on gaining further information, deciding that he would tell you on his own when he’s ready.

You knew you should probably cut ties with him. A man who actively hides almost everything about himself from you must be dangerous, right? You would always tell yourself that tonight would be the last night. That unless he tells you something, anything about why he’s always covered in cuts and bruises, you would turn him away and ask him to never come back.

And yet, every time he shows up on your doorstep, you never have the heart to turn him away. You’re always the first to reach out, take his hand and lead him inside.

And so tonight, when he shows up at your door, face bloodied and bruised, hands dry and scraped, amber eyes darker than usual, you do the same as you always do.

You don’t say anything as you take his hand in yours and gently pull him inside. You lead him to your bathroom where he begins to remove his clothes as you turn on the shower. 

As he steps into the shower, you go back to your room and tidy up a bit before rummaging through one of your drawers to pull out some of his clothes, a collection that’s grown significantly over the months.

You grab your first aid kit on your way back to the bathroom, another collection of things that has grown in the time you’ve known Michizo. 

You step into the steamy room just as the man is drying himself off. You used to knock, and you both used to be awkward about him being naked in front of you. But it’s so routine now that neither of you think twice about it.

You set his clothes on the counter and take the first aid kit in your hands.

“Are you hurt?” You ask, despite seeing the obvious cuts and bruises littered randomly across his skin.

“Nah, I’m okay,” he states blankly, his eyes focused on the towel he’s wrapping around his waist. You glance over at him and see a rather painful looking cut on his bicep.

“You idiot, yes you are.” You sigh and grab his hand to pull him over to you so you can get a better look. It’s not deep, but it’s not a surface scrape like the others.

You frown and open your kit to take out a bandage and some disinfectant. Michizo moves to sit on the counter beside you, having done this enough times to know that’s where you prefer him to be.

You clean his cut in silence, not an awkward one, but not exactly comfortable either. Just… silence.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers. You don’t have to ask what he’s apologizing for. He’s sorry for dropping in unannounced, sorry for needing you to clean his wounds, sorry for keeping secrets, sorry for worrying you.

You don’t reply as you finish cleaning the cut, and he doesn’t take offense. He knows how you feel, that he doesn’t need to apologize, that you don’t mind helping him. He knows that you care. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be sitting on your bathroom vanity as you clean a cut that you know he won’t explain.

You carefully place a bandage over it, a heavy, oversized band aid of which you’ve bought several  after realizing your little finger bandages weren’t going to do anything. 

Once you’re done, you leave the bathroom again to let him get dressed. You climb into your bed and lay down, scrolling through your phone while you wait. Michizo comes in just a few moments later, dirty clothes in hand.

You watch as he makes his way over to your hamper and tosses the clothes in, an odd expression on his face.

He seems more somber than usual. Though it wasn’t usually on his best nights that he came by, he was typically still a bit chipper, teasing you about little things like how messy your room is or the silly graphic t-shirt you’re wearing. 

But tonight, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t comment on the trashy 90’s comedy playing on the tv and he doesn’t laugh at your rainbow-puking cat shirt. And his eyes lack the sparkle they almost always held.

Against your better judgment, you let the words fall from your lips, though you already know the response you’re going to receive. 

“Are you okay?” He turns to look at you and gives a small smile, though you know it’s not sincere.

“Yeah, I’m good.” As always, brush it under the rug, pretend everything is okay, don’t explain a thing. You wonder if you’ll ever learn to accept his obvious lies.

He walks over to the bed but hesitates to climb in. You study his face, his internal conflict written all over it. You lift the covers, a silent invitation for him to lie down. But he doesn’t move.

“Michi,” you say his name gently. His eyes snap to yours, like he’s just broken from a trance. 

He doesn’t say a word as he gets into the spot beside you. He shuffles closer to you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. He presses his face into the crook of your neck and you get a whiff of your body wash. Maybe you should buy some of his own to keep here.

You remain in that position for a while, his head nuzzled in your neck and your fingers running through his hair. He doesn’t move for so long that you’re beginning to wonder if he’s asleep when he whispers something against your throat.

“Thank you.”

“What for?” You ask quietly.

“For… everything,” he sighs. “For being here. For letting me stay. For letting me in even though I never answer your questions. All of it.”

You don’t reply immediately, but you know he can hear the way your heart beat has picked up pace.

“You don’t have to thank me. You don’t have to apologize. Having you here is enough for me.” Michizo’s arms tighten around you and his face presses further against your skin.

“One day, I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

“And I’ll be here when you’re ready to.”

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate any of my works. reblogs are appreciated

[anticapitalistclown]

talking about farts, can I request how would lookism men react to when their gf farts in front of them for the first time?

LMAAAOOO yes I will absolutely write this (atp I'm gonna be known as the fart blog lol) (do I talk (write) about farting that much?)

pd. as always, I am going to post the most requested characters if there's not specified ones (hope you don't mind)

Jake, Vin Jin and Goo reacting to reader farting in front of them for the first time

Jake

Your boyfriend was helping you paint your living room, while he reached perfectly all the spots (bc he is really tall) you needed to use a ladder, "this color is gonna make the room look so comfy" you were really happy about how the results were showing, Jake smiled proudly at you.

You struggled to reach a corner stretching your arm the fullest making the ladder tremble, your boyfriend's instincts thankfully worked enough to trap the ladder and stabilize it, yet a "puff" escaped, the room was silent, and your face was completely red.

Suddenly Jake's laugh echoed the living room "babe, for the 5 months we've been dating I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to fart in front of me" he hugged you from behind "but you had to do it when my face was near your butt?" he laughed again, you covered your face "I was nervous-" his laugh was contagious making you laugh with him "you mean that you fart when nervous?" you nodded and left a broken "yes" making you both laugh even more.

Vin Jin

After eating like barbarians you both took a nap, a necessary one. Like kids, Vin turns completely energetic after a nap, annoying the shit out of you who is still processing that you're even awake.

Since you weren't paying attention to him, he just did the best he could do, annoy you, he jumped over you tickling every corner of your body, making you fight desperately "Vin for fuck's sake" he started to laugh like an asshole, "Vin don't press, I'm about to fart" he tickled you even more "then fart, who cares, duh" you started to fight back "it's gonna ruin my image" he laughed at your response "what image?" you couldn't hold anymore at the pressure and a loud fart echoed the bedroom, Vin laughed like a hyena after your fart "my image" you cried, he hugged you "babe, listen to this" and he left the most explosive sounding fart ever making you both laugh until tears formed in your eyes.

Goo

You both were fooling each other cracking dad jokes that were just as horrible as your humor, just perfect for you both, that's when he got the dumbest idea "babe, twist my finger" you looked at him in awe, "are you serious?" a little devilish laugh escaped "yes" you twisted his finger and he dropped a nosy fart, you stood with a poker face, leaving the room silent "babe" you asked him "twist my finger" his awkward face turned into a happy one, he twisted your finger, and you dropped a fart for him, making you both laugh "gosh I love you, I knew you were made for me" "I just can't believe that this had to be the first fart you hear from me" "I would never forget it"