#hes my angel and my comfort character that has not a single bit of comfort towards himself

[tentronky]

Okay so. Have my little Dream rant. It's also on tiktok and it has like 1.5k views so why not post it here too.

Have funeh

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I had this discussion in rp once. Dream (I wasn't role-playing him) got angry because Error (yep thats me) kept mocking him for being generally pissed off (as far as I remember.) Dream ofc snapped, and Shatteded started lecturing him about how immature he really is. And the roleplayer themselves was also talking about it in the discussion channel.

And you know, Dream has all the right to be immature. He was turned into stone when he was SIX YEARS OLD. Of course he wouldn't know exactly how to deal with situations like an adult. He got out of the stone, around four fuxking centuries later, and everyone expects him to act accordingly to the age of his general existence. His real age is still six. He was mentally and physically a child when he was shoved into a world full of adults and w@r. Of course Dream is going to act like a teenager in development by the time he is starting to understand stuff around him!!

And he forces himself to be as mature as he can, to fit in with the adult world he was suddenly dropped into. Because that's what everyone expects him to do. They treat him like an adult, Dream never had the chance to be a child because of how he was used in the village. Sure, they loved him and all, but he was that one perfect people pleaser that would help with everything he was asked to do. He never experienced not having responsibility. Everyone always expects something from him.

So Dream pushes himself. Dream pushes himself softly enough to not snap, but hard enough to keep going with the sudden change of flow. Like imagine going from 16th century to 21st??? With no warning??? He doesn't only have to be an adult, but he has to be a modern adult too. And if someone pushes him a little too hard along with how he's already pushing himself, he would snap under the pressure. ANYONE WOULD.

I felt really bad for him, more pissed off that Shattered in the roleplay kept hating on him and repeating his behavior back to him. Dream is aware enough of his situation to try and explain why he acted the way he did, but Shattered dismissed it as fuxking trauma dumping??? Saying that he had similair experiences and that it doesn't define Dream any different. Mind you, Shattered is also way older than Dream at this point. Two different timelines or something idk. But he's older and more experiences in life. Dream is still in his child development.

Do you ever have this thing when you try to say sorry to your parents and they just keep ignoring your apology and keep telling you how ungrateful and stupid you are for acting basically accordingly to your developing years? Take that feeling and apply it to Dream. He apologized so many times, and Shattered just kept rubbing salt into the wound. He felt upset, in more of a sad way rather than angry.

I finished that whole argument off with Error just accepting the apology because he felt horrible. But he didn't say that of course, he just claimed it was getting boring and repetitive. Which it was too.

The fact that he has to keep the positive vibe at all times while also trying to fit in with the adults and be a generally good Guardian of Positivity is so sad. PLEASE let Dream be an innocent child at least once a day for a bit. He needs a genuine hug of empathy and a break.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do. 

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong. 

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them. 

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down. 

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.  

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable. 

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room. 

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family. 

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt. 

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you. 

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life. 

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice. 

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever. 

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets. 

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits. 

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp. 

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different. 

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited. 

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.  

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him. 

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings. 

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed. 

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder. 

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk. 

You could see something change in his eyes. 

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms. 

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success. 

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING. 

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you. 

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail. 

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

[the-writer-arrived]

Wait, you're engaged?!

Synopsis: you two are engaged, congrats!! how does he share the news with others?

Characters: alhaitham; diluc ragnvindr.

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, this is actually more crack than fluff oh well, diluc and kaeya are brothers.

A/N: this is the third draft I wrote in two hours. IS THIS WHAT'S LIKE TO HAVE MOTIVATION????

It all started with a simple question about your well-being coming from Kaveh.

"So, how have they been lately?" was what the architect had asked, while shaking the elemental dice in his hand. He was playing a TCG match against Cyno, not an uncommon occurrence when the 4ggravate group of friends get together at Lambad's Tavern.

"Oh, my fiancée is doing just fine, I guess they're in a bit more energetic mood than usual." was what Alhaitham had answered, nonchalant as if he was talking about the weather and hadn't just dropped a huge bomb just like that.

The cheeky bastard is actually hiding his smirk with his wine cup, totally satisfied with himself at the shocked looks everyone has now.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!"

"Kaveh, please don't yell, you're making my ears hurt!"

"A-Ah! Sorry, Tighnari..."

"It seems like you didn't get a single dice of the elements you needed, your luck is truly something to be researched about."

"Wha-?! You...! Ah, no, wait, who cares about that?!"

I'm telling you, the guy is doing all he can to surpress the grin threatening to appear on his face.

No one was expecting to hear that, heck they didn't even know Alhaitham had bought a ring in the first place????

Dude how come you don't share these life changing plans with your homies?!

He shares the tale of how he had proposed to you... And let's just say Kaveh's romantic side was not happy about how it happened.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PROPOSED WHILE YOU TWO WERE LOUNGING IN THE LIVING ROOM???"

"Kaveh, too loud!"

"S-Sorry!"

Much to Kaveh's dismay, Alhaitham didn't make any extravagant gesture or big preparations.

It was just you and him, in the comfort of your home and it just felt right to pop the question at that moment.

What no one, not even you, knew is that the confident, smart and aloof scribe had not actually planned to propose to you like that at all.

Ever since he had bought the ring months ago, Alhaitham had devised so many different ways on how to do it, always thinking about which scenario would make you the happiest.

But when he had you laid down on his lap, spounting your usual nonsense just to try to get a reaction out of him because you were bored, it simply felt... right to do it right then and there.

Make no mistake, he may not have shown, but his hand was shaking when he pulled the small box out of his pocket, he had to thank Lesser Lord Kusanali for allowing his voice to not come out shaky.

Alhaitham's cockiness aside, Cyno, Tighnari and Kaveh are all genuinely very happy at the unexpected, but positive news.

"Let's order some bread, then."

"Bread? Why do you want bread all of a sudden?"

"So we can offer a toast to the future spouses... Get it? Toast? As in-"

"Yes Cyno, we get it!"

Ahhh Diluc, my sweet Batman of Mondstadt... He had always thought that the best course of action was to keep everyone at arm's length, not only for his sake, but for other people as well.

Now, as he gazes at the beautiful ring on your finger, he can only laugh at how naive he was for thinking he would be able to do that during his whole life.

On the next day after he had proposed to you, every customer in Angel's Share can see Master Diluc acting rather... odd.

He seems... I don't know, lighter? His expression doesn't look so serious anymore... Wait, is he... smiling?!

Needless to say, everyone at the tavern is dying to know what happened to the tycoon of the wine industry, but no one dares to ask him directly...

...no one but a certain cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonious, that is.

"My, someone is in a good mood today. Did something nice happened lately, Master Diluc?"

"Here's your Death After Noon, Kaeya."

"...Okay, something must have happened for you to prepare my drink before I even ordered it."

After much poking and prying from Kaeya, Diluc finally relents, just so the pestering would stop.

It's a lie, he is actually feeling ecstatic to be able to share the news with someone.

Everyone and their grandma knew about your relationship with Diluc of course, it's a bit hard not to when you are dating the uncrowned king of Mondstadt himself, despite you two not making a public announcement of being together.

So, before he could even tell Kaeya that he had proposed to you, the captain already suspected that that was the reason for his brother's sudden change of behavior.

Even so, that doesn't stop a genuine smile to appear on Kaeya's face as he congratulates Diluc.

"It's about time! I was starting to wonder how many more years you were going to make me wait, before I had the chance be your best man in your wedding."

"Who said you're going to be my best man?"

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've forgotten our promise to be each other's best man when we were younger?"

"...I'm surprised you still remember that.

What Diluc wasn't aware at that moment was that a certain bard had eavesdropped "accidentaly" listened to his private conversation with the cavalry captain.

It was such great news, the bard couldn't help but let it escape during the drunk conversations he had with other patrons that night.

How could he imagine that those patrons would tell their friends, who would tell their friends and so on? Of course the kind-hearted bard wouldn't do that on purpose!

It's not his fault that all the citizens of Mondstadt now know about Diluc's engagement with you!

Sorry Donna.

"Come now, Master Diluc! Good news are meant to be shared with others! Who knows? Maybe even the Anemo Archon caught wind of them, ehe!"

"...I won't sell you any wine for a month now."

"W-What?! Please, don't be so cruel, Master Diluc!"

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

pink alhaitham and diluc banners (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly <3

[juniperdugong]

How the JJK characters sleep!

With: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Ino, Shoko

Gojo Your eyes flutter open, the light heat of the sun peaking through the curtains warms your skin, and you turn over from your restful sleep to your perfect boyfriend...

NOT! You wake as you're nearly being pushed off the bed as this large ass man that you've (unfortunately) invited into YOUR home to sleep in YOUR bed is sprawled out like a goddamn starfish. Snoring like he's SpongeBob's alarm clock. His pajama shirt is riding up and you would be drooling over his abs if it weren't for the amount of drool he's currently letting fall onto the pillow. Any attempt to push him over enough to get back on the bed is futile, you have to slap him awake to get anywhere.

"Satoru. Satoru... GOJO!" BWAM you smack his face. "HUH?! WHAT'S HAPPENING?!?! WHAT'S GOING ON! Hollow-" "HOLY SHIT NO JUST FUCKING MOVE TO YOUR SIDE OF THE BED????" "Oh, my angel! What's up?" Feet in the air kicking and giggling like he didn't just try to blow up everything from Tokyo to Hokkaido "Do not play with me right now Toru..."

Geto This man sleeps like the dead and has the routine of a 50's housewife, truly casket-ready if you were to ask me. You always fall asleep before him as he has an arduous night-time routine that he insists on doing, Every. Single. Night. And you (almost) always wake up before him. Rising from a night of peaceful rest you look over to his side of the bed and it almost freaks you out how still he is.

No snoring, lying perfectly on his backside, night mask still on. It really is freaky. The blanket is tucked so neatly under his arms that are placed on his chest like he's some sort of corpse. You get used to this over time but in the beginning stages of your relationship, there is definitely an urge to check if he's breathing once in a while.

You poke at his face and put a finger under his nose to see if air comes out. "Babe? What are you doing?" His face is completely still as he says this. "No offense but you looked dead..." "Can I not practice good sleeping habits and hygiene without being questioned?" "Boy- I did not say you couldn't."

Toji Here we have another big boy who, in his sleep, has managed to leave no room for you. Except this time you're certain it's on purpose. The way you flop onto the floor and crawl back up to see a smirk on this dumbass's face. He's got this shit planned out!

Of course, Toji would never admit it but he likes it when you're cuddled up next to him, even on the hottest days. Doesn't matter if you both sweat like dogs as long as he can feel you in his hold.

His smirk grows as his ploy continues. He stretches his arms out and, not so subtly, wakes up because of "the racket that you're making".

"Woah, doll! How'd you end up on the floor?" He's full-on smiling now. "...I think you know how Toji..." "No clue what you're talking bout...but I do know this could all be prevented if you slept on top of me." You have to scoff at this. "It is too early to-" "No funny business! Promise baby, you're just my favorite blanket s'all"

Choso He's a bit of a hot-blooded man. Sweats super easy in his sleep is what I'm saying. He cuddles you to sleep every night, you swear he does. But somehow when you wake up he's on top of the blanket, stripped down to his underwear, fan turned on high.

He hates it though! Doesn't like how he doesn't get to hold you all night without feeling uncomfortable. On occasion he'd attempt to just push through but the heat eventually gets to him. He can't sleep well if you're not next to him but he also can't sleep well if he's overheated.

A string of a apologies come from him every time he wakes in the middle of the night to move you over and get into a more comfortable state, he knows you don't hear him but it's just for his own peace of mind.

"I'm sorry honey, just gonna move you a little-" Mind you he's whispering, basically just mouthing words so he won't wake you. You're in deep sleep but you moving even an inch sends him into panic. "No no no, don't wake up! Sorry, just got a little hot, I promise I'll stay right here!" You wake up to a freezing cold room but at least you're man is sporting the cutest and most peaceful smile as he rests.

Ino He's a sloppy sleeper too! So you should never be surprised when you wake up and find this man somehow with the upper half of his body on the floor and the rest of him sprawled out on his side of the bed.

Lowkey...lowkey, I think he's a bit of a sleepwalker. NOTHING DANGEROUS! But definitely talks to you in his sleep and is constantly sitting up and waving his hands around like he's in an imaginary argument.

You'll wake up sometimes and you hear him whispering sweet nothings about you, obviously his dreams get wild enough for him to be professing his undying love for you to dream rando's. He denies it heavy if you him about it when he wakes up though.

"Baby..." "Yes, sweetheart?" "You know you talk in your sleep sometimes?" "No, I don't." "You do though, just last night you were arguing with someone named Micheal about how he was looking at your, and I quote, "WIFE"" "I did no such thing... But seriously who does Micheal think he is anyways?? Trying to take you away from me like you aren't the air I breath..." The pout on his face is lethal!

Shoko Certified couch sleeper for real. (She's just like me, your honor!) You cannot tell me that after a long day of dealing with whatever the fuck she has to deal with on the daily she isn't totally passing out on the couch before even making it to the bedroom. And you can bet you're ass that she's dragging you with her!

You'd wake up completely entangled in each others arms in the wee hours of the morning, now it's your turn to drag her to the bed. She might be slightly whiny but once you hit those soft sheets she's completely K.O.'d again and moving to cuddle you back to sleep as well. No excuses. Showering and eating can some later, sleeping is the main priority.

"Shoko, we should move to the bedroom. We'll wake up sore if we sleep here all night." "Just a few more minutes..." Still sleepy she grabs your hand and presses a small kiss to your knuckles, "...I'm comfortable right now."

A/N: Some jjk headcanons because I've been doing a lot of SVT stuff! I PROMISE I'M MULTIFANDOM! Srsly though, I barely get requests so if you see this please feel free! On that note, do you guys think putting a prompt list in my guidelines would help gain requests? Also, if you want more characters please let me know!! Have a great day lovelies! And please reblog and comment if you liked it or have any thoughts.

JJK Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)

(Idia's Part)

Previous part (Kalim)

─────❅─────

A/n: Out of every housewarden, I felt like sobbing writing Idia's cause of how fluffy he is, I love him so much. Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Potential Inaccuracy in Indian Tradition, Indian and Greek clothing, if ever you see inaccuracy about it, please let me know, I only did a bit of research about it. The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personalities of our beloved boys. You have a child with Kalim here!

─────❅─────

First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul

Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus

List of Villains interconnecting with each character:

Kalim = The sultan Idia = Hades ─────❅───── Idia: The underworld has always been Idia’s little comfort zone, although at first, he didn’t want to rule it, due to how depressing it gets sometimes, but along with his brother Ortho who takes care of “outside” activities, aka meetings with those overbearing gods and goddesses who think they’re better than anyone, he didn’t mind the work as long as it’s with him. So far, his duties were all just about guiding souls into whatever the fuck they want or are allowed to go, honestly if they all became lost souls, he wouldn’t give a flying damn.

One day, however, an odd discrepancy appeared in the calculations of souls being accepted—an unregistered soul had entered the narrative. Concerned, he strolled toward the portal of Tartarus to investigate. When he peered inside, a sudden flash of blinding light erupted, disorienting him. Before he could react, a heavy force slammed into his body, causing him to stumble.

“What the!” he grunted, feeling a heavy body on top of him, he rubbed his head, opening his eyes, adjusting to the sudden light-to-darkness transition.

You stirred, finding your hands pinning him down. His eyes widened in shock as he pushed you off, scrambling backward so quickly that he hit his back on the wall with a loud slam.

“What In the world?!” he screeched, his hair glowing brightly meaning he was incredibly nervous, while you seemed to be lost, standing up, you pat away the dust off your outfit, taking notice of Idia who still was pressed on the wall.

“Idia?” you went closer to him, he looked like an angry kitten, glaring at you at first but the moment you got closer he stiffens up, pushing his hands to protect himself from you.

“Stay back! You anomaly!” he shouted that it echoed around the empty room, you were taken aback, “Idia, it’s me.” you said, eyebrows knitting in frustration.

“H-how do you know my name?” he asked, looking at you confusedly, were you sent by his other brother who he doesn’t even think of one, Zeus? You look kind of angelic so there’s a suspicion.

“Idia, you’re my boyfriend” Wow point blank you decided to kill him with those words, boyfriend his ass, what boyfriend, all he knows is that he prefers to be single than have a lover, also he wants to add that you are way out of his league, there’s no way you like him that way, and this is the first time you met him, was there a camera around here? The edited laughter? Where is it? He’s waiting for that to come.

Realizing that he was overthinking again, you snapped your fingers catching his attention; stating your name you tried to see if you got any reaction, but nothing. He really didn’t remember you.

You were going to be saddened by this, if it weren’t for the fact that the tips of his hairs had a slight pink on it meaning was still a chance for you to get your boyfriend back.

Okay, you two might be misunderstanding things, while Idia was observant, he can’t think straight when he’s in front of someone, his black and blue robe being a perfect cover for himself, he even had a hoodie knitted for him to cover his hair with.

You noticed that he was taller than before, raising your eyebrow, you grabbed his arm, which made him freeze up, looking at you like you just harassed him, his sweat drops. “What?”

“Since when did you get taller?” you asked, he slides your hand off of his arm, rubbing it a bit, “I don’t know?” he answered confusedly, before waving his hand dismissively, “No more questions, I’m bringing you back to Zeus” he grumbled, his stupid brother playing pranks on him again.

“What? Zeus?” you walked faster to catch up on him when he started speedwalking away, “Y’know, God of Olympus?” he said, weirded out why you didn’t know Zeus, everyone knows him.

“Wait, Zeus as in the God from long ago?” you asked further, which made Idia stop his tracks, turning to look at you, his figure looming, he looked like a grim reaper when he stands with you before, but now it’s more evident.

“What do you mean long ago?” he asked as bewildered as you are, why are you acting this way anyways? Anomaly that popped out of nowhere and almost giving him a concussion and right now you’re giving him a migraine, what’s next huh? brain aneurysm?   

“Are you not my Idia?” you frowned, looking at him closer, he exhibited a different style, he was taller, slightly shorter hair, bluish skin instead of pale.

“Your” Idia? What does that mean?

The more you open your mouth the more questions pop out, sighing he decided to cover your mouth with his hand. “Please… just shut up for a minute”

Okay, first theory! You’re not from around here, I mean you just got spat out like trash by the Tartarus and suddenly proclaiming that he’s your boyfriend, he feels bad for you, your standard is in hell if you’re dating him, you’re pretty too, a disrespect to your face really.

Second theory, which he’s leaning on more, you’re a spy sent by his brother Zeus; to make him fall for you and you break his heart and upload it to magicam or something.

If you think he’s self-deprecating too much, please, he’s just being realistic with the situation.

“First off, I am not yours” he clarified, lifting his hands as if he’s surrendering to you. “I never met you in my whole life, you’re cute but no”

Rejected by your own boyfriend, you wanted to pinch his cheeks for it, you were going to be hurt by this, but the thing is, the way he acts reminded you of the first stages of your relationship with him, he wasn’t the best with it.

“Okay,” you said, being short with him, for some reason that made him feel bad, scratching the back of his neck, he wanted to hold your cheek or hand to comfort you, an odd feeling.

“Sorry- I mean if you want to, I can act like your boyfriend or something” he murmured, his voice gradually decreasing to the point you barely heard the last words.

“It’s fine Idia, no need” not wanting to force him into that kind of thing, however, you noticed that his little fire hair started to fizzle out, panicking a bit you touched his hand, holding it, “wait I mean, okay, sure we can act”

Phew, that got his fire back up, lucky you. “Okay…” he said awkwardly coughing as he uses his tech to call for Ortho. “Ortho, can you come here?”

Ortho was impressively fast with going back to the underworld, looking the same except his clothes or rather his cyborg parts looked Greek like, it explains why you were wearing a tunic.

“Scan her” Idia said, using his eyes to signal ortho who to scan, in which Ortho grins brightly. “Okay!”

You stayed still as Ortho used his eyes to scan you, it was something that came natural for you, especially since your Ortho does that often.

“So?” Idia asked, leaning on the wall, Ortho shook his head, looking conflicted. “Nope, she doesn’t have any data around Ancient Greece, or anywhere”

“Huh” he didn’t seem surprised. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, patting Ortho’s head. “Yeah! I did another scan but there’s no indication of her presence anywhere.

So, you really were just transported by Tartarus to Ancient Greece, connecting the dots, that means Idia here is…

Noticing you staring at him in deep thought He smiles a bit, you looked funny thinking like that, pouty and all. “Since you’re really not from here, my name is Idia, God of the Underworld, and this is Ortho, my brother.” Ortho waves at you enthusiastically and he was genuinely surprised that his brother introduced him instead of himself.

“I know” you hummed, crossing your arms. “I told you already, we’re dating- “

Idia tried to cover your mouth before you spout that out but failed as Ortho’s eyes widens. “You’re dating my brother in the other world?! You mean there’s another version of us in your world?”

Oh dear, you’re in it now.

Ortho basically asked you plenty of questions, already happy that his brother pulled someone like you, you were gorgeous!

Idia was a bit happy you got along with his brother, he sometimes feels bad that he keeps Ortho in such a depressing place instead of being a normal kid outside and playing.

Also he can’t help but get flustered whenever you randomly get physically affectionate with him, he’s been trying to find a way to get you back in your world, but it’s proving to be difficult since Tartarus maybe his domain, but it’s a system that’s entirely independent from him, think of it as the pity system in his gacha games, even if you hit enough 80 pulls, it doesn’t guarantee the limited character you want.

But, as long as he can, Idia tries to make sure every time he hangs out with you is worthwhile, it’s the first time he made effort to spend time with someone, when he’s off work, he finds himself going to the guest room, asking if you wanted to come eat with him and Ortho, or sometimes, you end up in his room, playing a two-player game with him.

Ever since you came into his life, he started going out of his room more, back then he usually just… does his work and go to his room. That’s all Now he’s trying to go outside more, especially when Ortho told him that to get you back faster was by “thinking outside the box” which just meant that he should go touch some grass and let the gears in his brain think of a solution.

He didn’t really know when he fell for you, but he noticed it when you were outside with him, in the largest field that had nothing but nature around. The outfit that Ortho lend you fits your palette so perfectly, it almost made him want to take a picture.

You were admiring the view while glancing around, picking up flowers.

Confused with what you were doing he walked to you. “Hey what-“ getting cut off as you shove a bouquet of flowers on his chest, a ribbon clumsily wrapped around the stems of the flowers.

“For you” you said, smiling, making his heart skip a bit, he accepted the gift as Ortho called out for you, giving him a glance before you grab his collar, pulling him down to kiss his cheek before walking away.

That got his hair to burn bright pink, shaking from the adrenaline, he coughed awkwardly, hopefully, Ortho didn’t see what you did.

Well, he’s having a hard time finding a way to send you back home, so… it might take a while.

─────❅───── A/n: ACCCCCCK IDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ILYSM ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ Malleus' Part

[musical-shit-show]

little taste of heaven

Pairing: Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Sinner!Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #53 (“why don’t you make me?”) from Prompt List #1 and #78 (“oh, i’m gonna fucking ruin you.”) from Prompt List #2 with added inspiration taken from a request from the lovely @odins-nsfw

Warnings: cursing, Adam is an asshole (what else is new), tiny bit of angst if you squint, general kinda rough smut (18+, MINORS DNI!!!), oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, digital manipulation, unprotected sex, Adam and reader are definitely toxic, enemies that are also lovers :)

Word Count: 2,149

Author’s Note: This took me a little longer to write but I’m very happy with how it turned out! Definitely getting more comfortable with writing smut, and writing for Adam is still proving to be very fun. Thanks to everyone who has interacted with my other Adam one shots (which you can read here and here); it seriously means so much to see the positive feedback. I still have one more request in my inbox, but I will definitely be writing for more Hazbin characters as the year goes on (especially since we don’t know when the show is coming back). But if you’d like to submit an ask, check out my About Me page, Prompt Lists, and other works in my Masterlist! Thanks and happy reading, depraved sinners!

“Hey, toots, settle a bet for us, would ya?” you heard Angel Dust call to you from across the hotel lobby. Ever since Charlie Morningstar successfully staved off an attack from Heaven’s army, you decided to join her crusade towards redeeming the seemingly irredeemable.

You were first assigned as a quasi-concierge, since you had spent most of your time in Hell bouncing from one side of the Pride Ring to the other. You hopped up from your desk and met Angel, who was slumped across the bar; Husk was silently cleaning a glass, a small smirk on his feline face.

“What’s up, guys?” you breathed, counting the seconds until your shift ended. You were grateful for the free accommodations that the hotel provided, but you didn’t expect the afterlife would involve diving into the wonderful world of customer service.

The porn star shifted his gaze to Husk, and you could tell they were both up to something. “Are ya fuckin’ the angel or what?” the bartender asked, his voice gruff. Angel almost spit out the swig of malt liquor he had just taken.

You feigned confusion, turning to the spider-like demon. “Angel Dust, I think I would know if I were fucking the biggest porn star—”

“Actor.”

“—Actor,” you corrected yourself, “on this side of Hell. You should know he’s not my type, Husk, honest.”

Angel Dusk tsked. “You know that’s not who we’re talking about, babycakes,” he said, his voice lowering, “We’re talking about the angel. Or, I guess the fallen angel.”

Oh, shit.

You shifted uncomfortably on the barstool, swirling the whiskey glass Husk had placed in front of you. “No clue what you mean by that.”

“Bullshit,” Husk said testily.

“See, I told you she’d lie,” Angel drawled, smiling smugly, “You can read it on her pretty little face.” You could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

Yes, you had been fucking Adam. And yes, you had been keeping it from the rest of the hotel residents. Even after showing up—in a new demonic form, no less—to be redeemed, you knew no one, not even Charlie, trusted him fully after the last botched exorcism and direct attack on the hotel itself.

But he was drawn to you almost immediately, singling you out as someone to pursue and torment. And stupidly, you found yourself attracted to him, despite your better judgement.

“Who told you,” you deadpanned.

Angel Dust’s gaze flickered from you to Husk and back again. He sure knew how to be a fucking tease.

“Your stupid boyfriend,” Husk confirmed, not wanting to torture you any longer.

“Ya shoulda seen him bragging about it last night,” Angel added, no doubt living for the drama this would cause, “He’s got some loose lips once the booze starts flowin’. Real keeper if ya ask me.”

Stomach in knots, you attempted to put up a brave face, even with their taunting. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you said definitively, now feeling anger welling up inside you.

This was all Adam’s fault. He couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut and now you were the one dealing with the humiliating fallout. “Fine, fuck buddy, whatever,” Angel corrected, watching as you stood up from the barstool in a huff, “Doesn’t sound like it’ll last very much longer, given the look on your face.”

You rolled your eyes, completely over this conversation. “Would you excuse me?” you asked rhetorically, your voice dripping with poison. Even Angel looked perturbed for a moment.

Husk glanced over to his companion as you hopped off the barstool, practically seething, “Yeah, ‘course toots,” Angel called after you, still clearly tickled by this development. He loved this kind of soap opera drama bullshit.

You were still able to hear Husk say “Oh she’s gonna fuckin’ murder him,” as you climbed the steps and stomped to Adam’s room.

Pounding on the door, anger and embarrassment grew like a vicious virus inside you. When no one answered, you pressed your ear against the door and was met with the irritating sound of a whiny electric guitar.

“Perfect,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed the ring of keys Charlie had given you when you were on shift. Even though you had technically clocked out, you weren’t above bending the rules to give Adam a piece of your mind.

You threw open the door, letting the thud as it hit the wall startle the fallen angel strumming his guitar lazily. “Jesus fu—” he started to say as he shifted on his bed, but then his eyes softened at the sight of you, “Oh, hey babe—”

“Don’t you ‘hey babe’ me, you fucking prick,” you spat, fire practically spewing from your mouth, “You’ve been telling people about us?!”

A tense pause.

“Maybe.”

Another pause.

“No?”

You could feel your eye beginning to twitch.

“Ugh, fine. Yes. But what’s the big deal?” Adam asked incredulously, finally putting his guitar down.

You paused for a moment, your anger simmering. The big deal was that you were embarrassed. That the thought of you and Adam going public made you look like a desperate sinner latching onto the only other wayward soul that would look your way.

And hell, you actually liked sneaking around, until he ruined it with his big, dumb mouth of his.

And maybe, just maybe, you were afraid that once the novelty wore off and everyone knew about you two, Adam would leave you behind and move onto the next shiny new toy to waltz into the hotel.

“Cat got your tongue, dollface?” he prodded, wanting to get a rise out of you. It was one of his new favorite pastimes.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your anxiety being replaced by annoyance. “Jesus fucking Christ do you ever shut up?” The former angel smirked, his eyes flitting up and down your form.

“First off, don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” he said as you rolled your eyes, “It’s fucking rude.”

You wanted to punch him.

“Second, why don’t you make me?”

That was the last straw.

You lunged at him, practically pouncing on top of him to kiss him hungrily. Adam knew exactly how to push your buttons, and pathetic as it was, you actually fell for it every time.

You were straddling him, and felt him wince as you bit his lip in the heat of the angry makeout. Adam knew you were pissed, and the more you fought for dominance, the harder he felt himself get. 

After all, pleasure always tasted sweeter with a little pain. And you tasted fucking delicious.

Adam groaned as you pulled away from him, your face still radiating with heat and anger. You weren’t letting him off that easily, and he knew it.

“Lie down,” you muttered, your eyes scanning his smug expression. “Now.” Wordlessly, Adam complied, lying on his back as you removed your pants and underwear swiftly.

Adam raised his head slightly just in time to watch you remove your shirt and throw it across the room in a huff. He waited patiently for you to do his own disrobing on his behalf; the lazy bastard loved when you rode him.

But he didn’t feel the desperate grasp of your hands around his cock.

No, instead, you climbed up his chest, until you were eye to eye, his gold pupils dilated. “I’m going to have to take drastic measures to shut you up, aren’t I?”

Adam felt his pulse quicken. “What’d you have in mind?”

A sinful smile spread across your face. “Something I know you hate,” you teased, cupping his face gently, doing your best to seduce him into submission, “And something I happen to know your bestie Luci is very talented at.”

Adam gripped your arm, pulling your hand away from his face. You became frightened for a second, before he started peppering the inside of your wrist with small love bites.

The games you played toed a dangerous line between love and hate, and luckily Adam had been fucking you long enough to understand the moves you were making.

“I’m not eating you out,” he said, his expression darkening, “And don’t try to bait me with that little pretty boy. It won’t work.”

You felt your pulse quicken; clearly you had struck a nerve. You just had to push him a little further to get your way.

“Is that why Lilith really left?” you said, rolling your hips against his, feeling how hard he was underneath you, “Because you couldn’t…satisfy her the way that Lucifer could?”

You knew this would send him over the edge. And the moment you looked into his burning gold eyes, you knew you had won.

A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“Oh, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he growled, tugging at the hair at the nape of your neck. You smirked as he finally complied and laid on his back. Adam would rather give up control than have his skills in the bedroom be compared to the King of Hell.

You knew he was insecure, and if he was going to be a dick about it, the least you could do was take advantage.

Before he could change his mind, you placed each thigh on either side of his head, kneeling until your aching core met the lower half of his face. After a few seconds of resistance, you felt his lips part and flinched as his tongue slid into you.

“I can’t believe this was—ah—” you bucked your hips as he found his way to your clit, “This was the only way to get you to shut the fuck up.” You felt a hum of disapproval as his slender hands found his way to your ass.

You smiled to yourself as you felt the annoyed hum that radiated from your stubborn lover’s mouth. Finding your pace, you felt the tension in your abdomen rising as Adam continued to eat you out.

For not loving the act, you had to admit he was good at it. Feeling his tongue swirl inside you sent a shiver down you spine, and you felt a yelp leave your lips as he slapped your ass as you continued to buck on top of him.

In retaliation, he tried teasing you with small sucks and flicks, but you didn’t care; the fact that he was focusing on your gratification for a change was rewarding enough.

After a few minutes, though, the fallen angel had had enough of your domineering; if he was going to finish you off, he was going to do it his way.

Coming up for air, he placated you by circling one of his fingers around your clit. “Alright baby, you got what you wanted,” he breathed, “Now it’s my turn.”

In one fell swoop, he flipped you over onto your back, and disrobed in the blink of an eye. ‘Showoff,’ you thought to yourself, annoyed by the lack of his mouth on your pussy.

Before you could protest, two of his long fingers found his way inside you, pumping and curling to hit your sweet spot.

“After this, I’m gonna fuck you into oblivion,” Adam muttered, his tempo growing more erratic, “You’re lucky I’m even bothering to get you off after your little outburst, but you can consider it a favor this time.”

You tried to focus more on satisfying sensation you were feeling than his bitching. “It’s the least you could do after that bullshit you pulled with Husk and Angel,” you said, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your back as you tightened around him, “They’ll fucking crucify me.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, baby,” he cooed, resting his thumb on your bud as he continued to pump his fingers into you, “Now be a good girl and cum for me.”

It only took a few more moments of stimulation for you to humiliatingly come undone around him, knowing he’d make you pay for it later.

Getting off always seemed to come with a price when it came to fucking Adam; at the very least you were able to shut him up for a few glorious minutes.

You contemplated if the grilling from the other guests and constant bickering was worth it, but you didn’t have much time to change your mind. Adam pulled you off your back and onto your stomach, and you winced as he slammed his cock into you, your ass on full display as he took you from behind.

You gripped the sheets, the friction of him inside you equal parts painful and gratifying. ‘Another question for another day,’ you thought, burying your face into the mattress as he fucked you at an agonizingly delicious pace.

Right now, you had a pissy angel to placate and a couple of sinners to swear to secrecy.

Royally fucked didn’t even begin to describe the mess you had gotten yourself into.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed and want to read more! :)

[jeankluv]

I won’t fake it || Jean Kirstein x reader

Words: 2.6K

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, modern au, actors au, reader is shy and a bit insecure, readers appearance is never described

Summary: You and Jean have known each other for a decade now, since both of you started working as teens in a serie called Attack on Titan. During the years you developed feelings for him, but never told him afraid of breaking your friendship and afraid of his reaction. Promoting the final season, your managers came with the idea of a PR but Jean refuses, despite knowing he has done it before in the past. You hated the idea of PR but did Jean really hate the idea of ​​going out with you, even if it was pretend?

Note: this came to me when an attack on titan actor au popped up on my feed. I don’t know if I should make another part or leave it like this.

Attack on titan materialist

The series, which you have been working on for the last 10 years, was coming to an end soon. Only a few episodes were left and you were promoting it with the rest of the cast, in New York and Los Angeles.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair was beautiful, the makeup was beautiful, the outfit you were wearing was beautiful, everything looked perfect. It had to be. You were about to give an interview on live television, talking about the series finale, promoting it and everything had to be just perfect.

You sighed, you were nervous it didn’t matter what you did to calm yourself down. It's been over a decade since you joined the industry and you couldn’t stop from getting nervous. Your leg was moving up and down, making your heels hit the floor and filling the room with the noise of your shoes.

A knock on the door made you come back to your senses, you swallowed and told to came in. In the door Jean appeared, you smiled at him, your best friend since almost the very beginning of the series.

“Hey.” He approached you and left a kiss on your cheek. You hated it, not because you didn’t like it, because it made you feel so much and you knew nothing was going to happen. “How are you feeling?” He sat next to you. You grimaced, trying to make light of the matter, but you knew Jean knew you too well. “I will be right next to you, so don’t worry. We are together.” You smiled faintly, Jean was always so kind to you and your heart wouldn’t stop beating on your chest whenever he looked at you that way.

“Thank you Jean… I really appreciate having you with me.” You told him and he smiled.

A staff member came in, informing you that you were about to enter the studio for the interview. Jean stood and offered his hand for you to take it. You held it and walked side by side, feeling the comfort Jean was bringing you. You were behind a door and could hear the interviewer talking and the audience applauding. Your names were called and both Jean and you entered the plate smiling and greeting everyone who was there. You sat on the couch with Jean on your left and the interviewer to your right.

“Welcome both of you.” The interviewer smiled. “How are you both feeling? The finale is almost here, crazy isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s honestly crazy that after, what? 10 years right?” Jean joked in a flirtatious way. “But yeah it’s been a whole rollercoaster, but one none of us won’t forget.” He said looking at you.

“Eh… yeah, yeah it’s been a whole experience and… we are really thankful for the fans that have been supporting us for all those years.” You said, trying to hide your anxiety.

The interviewer nodded. “Now tell me about your characters. They are romantically involved and I think everyone can agree that your chemistry on screen is untouchable.” The public started cheering up.

You hoped no one was noticing that your whole face was heating up. If only they knew you had the biggest crush on Jean Kirstein, they would probably lose their minds and start editing every single moment where you both interacted or the moments where you were looking at him like a helpless romantic.

“I guess so, but with y/n it’s so easy. I couldn’t have been luckier to have such an amazing partner to work with.” He laughed.

“You’re just too kind, Jean.” You smiled.

“It’s the truth tho. You’re an amazing actress and friend. And I love filming with you and spending time with you.”

“Wow… Jean if you weren’t in a relationship I would think you are hinting on y/n on live television.” The interviewer joked.

And there it was, the reminder that Jean was just your friend, your costar, nothing else. You were happy when Jean told you he was seeing someone, happy when he told you they started dating, happy when you met her. You were happy, that’s what you always told yourself, that you were happy for him. But it wasn’t true, you weren’t happy, you were a coward because you had those feelings for years but you were never able to confess and then, then he was with someone else, that wasn’t you.

You were selfish, you wanted to be the one holding his hand, the reason for his loving eyes, the reason why his heart raced faster, you wanted to be all that and more.

You tried to keep yourself normal, not to react to that or to what Jean said.

“Well I’m not in a relationship anymore, it’s been over a month since I broke up with my now ex.” Jean explained, leaving you speechless. You didn’t know about this, he never mentioned it. It was true that you were unable to see and talk as much as you usually did due to your busy schedules.

“Then we can say you were hinting on y/n? How do you feel about that y/n?” The interviewer asked once again.

You were starting to get nervous and somehow embarrassed for the whole situation. You wanted to stand up and run from there, but if you did that everyone would be talking about you on social media and that was making you even more anxious.

“You know what Jimmy, I think we should go back to the main topic, talking about our series.” Jean cut him off. “But so everyone knows, we are not Connie or Eren, you won’t be able to get a single spoiler out from us.”

As always Jean was the most natural when it came to doing interviews or talking with other people. The interviewer let the topic to the side and started asking questions about the series, what it was for you to film this final part and how you were feeling about ending it. You played a little game to entertain the audience and finally you ended saying goodbye to everyone.

You and Jean walked down the hall together with your managers, while talking about something. You didn't look at Jean, you didn't want to, you were still embarrassed by what happened a few minutes ago.

“Jean, what you did out there…” He was referring to that flirt with you. “Was brilliant. Everyone is talking about it on social media.” He said showing the phone to Jean, you looked at it out of the corner of your eye and sure enough, the video of the moment was everywhere.

“Josh just leave it, okay?” Said Jean hanging the phone back to his manager.

“No Jean, this could be a perfect opportunity for both of you.” He said pointing at you both. “I was talking to Emma while you were still at the interview and maybe doing a PR isn’t that bad.” You closed your eyes and you leaned against the elevator wall.

“Emma…” You whispered.

“C’mon y/n this could be a wonderful opportunity, you will only have to act like you’re romantically involved, some photoshoots, some Instagram posts. It will be fantastic for your publicity.” She smiled holding you from the arms. You didn’t want it, you didn’t want to fake you had something with Jean because you knew your heart would end up broken in a million pieces.

“I won’t be doing PR with y/n.” Jean stayed not letting any of your managers talk.

“Why Jean? This could be a great opportunity for both of you. Your ship in the show is huge, having you go from friends to lovers would be…”

“No.” Jean said harshly.

“Jean, you have done this before, what's the difference?”

“None of us need this shit, we are already both settled actors.” Jean started to walk away from leaving the elevator.

His manager started to walk behind him, while you stayed there with Emma. You felt your heart shrink in your chest, was that bad idea for him to fake date you? You hated the idea but Jean… Jean looked disgusted with it.

You didn’t see Jean after that, he didn’t contact you either and you didn’t have the courage to do it. You looked at your schedule for tomorrow, you had a photoshoot in the morning and then you would be free for the rest of the day. You sat on your bed, tired of today's journey, you weren’t a big fan of promotion season, you were just too introverted for it and sometimes interviewers were too much for you, they seemed not to care about what you were telling them, they just wanted the gossip and leave. And you hated that, you loved acting from a young age, it let you be someone else, escape from reality but Hollywood was another thing, another world. A world that even after all these years was hard for you to adjust to.

You fell into bed, closing your eyes, you had to sleep tomorrow, you had to get up early and you didn't want to have Emma dragging you around New York with huge circles under your eyes.

＇・＊：．。．　．。．：＊・゜゚・＊

Before you could realize the premiere for the final part was that night in New York City, you were getting ready in your apartment, your whole makeup was stunning, and your dress was just breathtaking. You couldn’t believe you could look this good.

“We will be leaving in 5.” Emma said.

“In 5 minutes?” You opened your eyes.

“Yeah, the premiere is an hour and you have to take photos on the red carpet with everyone and do some small interviews.”

“Okay…”

“Hey!” She said making you look at her. “If you start to feel overwhelmed, tell me and I will take you out of there okay?”

“It’s okay Em, I think I can handle it. I will be alright.”

“That’s my baby, I can’t believe it’s been ten years since you got this role.”

“And you have been supporting me ever since then.”

“That’s true.”

“Thank you.” You hugged her.

“And by the way, I’m so sorry for what happened with Jean and the whole PR thing, when Josh suggested I thought it would a good idea, but I fail to consider how you were going to feel about it.”

“It’s alright Em.”

“Have you talked with him?”

“With Jean?” She nodded. “Not directly, we talked in the group chat, last thing I know is that he was in LA, for an audition or something, I’m not really sure.”

“You will see him tonight.”

“Yeah I know but it doesn’t matter Em, it was a silly conversation and all the flirting thing he did, it was for the show. Not real.”

Emma looked at you with a sad look. “Honey, I don’t think it was fake.”

“Em please, don’t do that, don’t give me hopes for something that will never happen.”

“Okay…” She looked at her phone. “Oh shit, we need to leave or you will be late, c’mon.”

In 10 minutes you were getting out of your car, meeting up with thousands of flashes and screams from fans. You smiled at them and started waving at everyone. You approached a group of fans to take selfies and sign posters.

“Oh y/n! You look absolutely stunning! I love you so much.” You blushed at the compliment.

“Thank you so much sweetheart.” You told them.

“Y/n! Please sign my poster.”

“Sure.”

“Y/n! You and Jean would look so good together.” You heard someone say.

“That’s right y/n!” You heard another one scream.

“Thank you guys, but we are not…”

You were cut by one of the team staff taking you away from them. You waved them goodbye with a sad smile, you sighed to yourself and prepared yourself to pose in front of the cameras. You heard paparazzi scream your name, telling you to look to one side, to another side. You started to feel anxious and feel your sweaty hands, the whole flashes were making you dizzy. You felt someone, holding you from the waist making you jump a little. Looking up, you saw a very familiar tall person next to you. Jean was there, smiling.

“Jean…” You whispered.

“Hello gorgeous, you look beautiful.” He whispered to you.

You smiled to the floor. Stupid Jean. He held your hand, making it so natural, so effortless and easy. He took you out of there, you still heard the screams and the sound of flashes behind both of you. Jean started saluting everyone around without letting your hand go. You were feeling nervous, probably Jean was noticing that you were sweating.

“Eh… Jean.” You told him, he turned to look at you.

“Mhm?” He tilted his head and you looked down to your hands. “Oh…” He said. “Y/n, I need to talk with you.” Jean spoke once again. He was looking at you. “Come with me please.” And walked off with you.

You looked at his big back, he kept walking until a small room far away from the people. He let your hand go and you held both of your hands together, looking down, nervous.

“Y/n can you look at me.” He whispered.

“What happened Jean?” You faintly smiled at him.

“Listen, I know, I know it must be confusing my actitud tonight, all this thing of holding hands and the “show” out there but…”

“You ended up agreeing to the PR thing?” You smiled.

“No I didn’t, I told Josh that I was not going to do PR with you.”

“Why? Is that a bad idea to do PR with me?”

“No… is just.”

“You have done PR before, I don’t understand why you wouldn't want to.”

Jean breathed. “Because I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

“Oh… I understand.” You bite your lip.

“I think you’re not understanding y/n.” He held your face. “I wouldn’t be able to fake anything with you because every single thing I would do, every single word, every single look, would be true.”

You swallowed looking at his eyes. True? It wouldn’t be fake?

“What…?”

“Y/n, I like you. I have liked you for a while now… I was a dick for not realizing my feelings before.”

“I… Jean.”

“Y/n, I know, I have known for a while and I’m sorry, I’m sorry for hurting you.” He hugged you and you closed your eyes and smelling his aroma.

“It’s okay Jean… but are you for real?” You broke the hug.

“Yes, every single thing I said it’s real. I don’t want to fake anything with you, I want this to be real.” He said once again looking at your eyes. “That’s why, I want to take you out on a date.”

“A date?”

“Mhm.” He smirked. “You know we could sneak out and I could take you out on a fast date.”

“Jean… this is our last premiere, we can’t.” He pouted, which made you smiled.

“You’re right babe. Our last time, I will miss working with you on screen…”

“Maybe we can work together again, don’t worry.” You smiled.

“Hopefully but only as your romantic interest.” He kissed your cheek. “Now let’s go before they start to be suspicious and I don’t want Eren to start bothering us with his nonsense.” He held your hands once again but you stopped him.

Jean turned around and looked at you. With all the courage in the world you held his face and kissed him. Jean at first was surprised but he instantly kissed you back, tangling his fingers in your hair and increasing the kiss. The kiss finished when you both heard the door being opened. You hide yourself behind Jean, feeling your face burning up.

“So you two are here?” Emma was standing there, you avoided her gaze. “Everyone was looking for you, so you better get your asses back there.”

Both of you nodded and started walking next to Emma, not letting each other's hands go. Emma nudged you and smiled at you, you looked down and got closer to Jean, he smiled at your shyness and placed a kiss on your hair.

[dimepdf]

Can you write more Dilf!Toji please? 😭 I really appreciate your writing 🫶🏽

★  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you come around and make Toji so tempted, no matter what broad he's bagging all he can think about is you: his fucking nanny .

─── ☆ notes. number one dilf toji defender here, i’m in my Anderson Paak phase as well as i’ve sadly (i know im disappointed too) fallen for a man to the point where this boy has invaded my DREAMS y’all…this is embarrassing and this fic is me coping with having an actual crush so i give you full permission to call me a simp over this .

─── ☆ length. 2.6k (23 mins) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, nanny au, dilf!toji, angsty start, fluff, minor character death, hints of depression, hookups, pining, black coded reader, you got brotha STARVING, megumi and tsumiki are toddlers in this, someone give toji a hug, vent-fic, hurt/comfort, age gap, height difference, it's always Gojo’ fault, masturbation, jealousy | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

Toji would say that after becoming a parent, he could read body language pretty well. Maybe it was just part of being a single parent and having to detect when your toddlers were sprouting nonsense just to stay up later knowing it was bedtime. 

From the times he believed that his little Megumi was being the perfect angel and finally grew out of his tantrum phase. 

Only to turn his back and realize that he had used craft scissors to chop a chunk out of Tsumiki’s hair and was playing nice to soften his punishment, to school beatdowns and playing dumb, Toji had decided he was just a master at decoding anyone’s bullshit.

Everyone except for his own that is.

Being a single parent came with its perks, Toji loved his two little demons, and it sort of helped that Tsumiki made the most of her mother's common sense.

But dealing with his ex-wife's abrupt death, being sprung into the life of lone fatherhood, and being a successful businessman were starting to take their toll on him.

His friends were not much help. Sure, Gojo did all he could to be seen as the cool uncle, but leaving his two hyper children with a man that refused to say no to anything that they asked was like signing his children up for their possible deaths.

Geto wasn’t much better, having his own marriage and kids. You would think that the father would grow to have a bit more compassion for the children's safety. Yet every time Tsumiki and Megumi visited their brass uncle, they would always come home with new scars sprouting about how they were practicing wrestling moves with their cousins for the last ice pop.

Waking up to something different, never being able to just fill in the gaps with a routine was starting to become a bit stressful. 

Not to mention going to work and having to push himself to his limits, knowing that just because he was friends and business partners with Nanami didn't mean he'd be lenient with him. 

All paired with the weight of some bold secretary that he had a one-night stand and never got the clue that every time he would brush her off for paperwork didn't mean he was singling her to cling onto him more. It was bad business hooking up with one of his employees Toji knows.

If anything, the woman had taken him at just the right opportunity when he was at the lowest moment of his life. Right after his wife's death, he had fallen behind on just about everything to the point where he would lean into any sense of comfort that reminded him of that faded memory he wanted to keep dear to his heart. 

So there he was after hours with a woman's thigh over his shoulder moaning out his name as if it were a prayer, and he had realized that right after it was all a mistake, which was kind of a shitty thing to note as she was standing right in front of him pulling up her panties. 

He just can't do it again, out of respect for her but also for himself. The last thing he wanted to do was entangle himself in another situation that would take more time away from his kids.

Not that he considered the woman to be pestering, but he wasn't a teenager anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was handle his stress by sticking his dick in the first woman he considered attractive, all because he had trouble bottling up all his emotions.

Toji's hatred for all the lingering eyes in the office—sure, Toji thought himself handsome—the proof was the number of relationships he had in his younger days.

There was something wrong with people finding him attractive and wanting something from him when he genuinely felt like his entire world would collapse on top of him if he stopped moving. 

As if he stopped overworking himself that he would be like one of those sharks that had to keep swimming or else they would fucking die. It was ironic how stupidly afraid Toji was at the thought of leaving his children alone in the world with both of their parents gone.

It was fear, having that parental fear for something every waking morning worrying every second that something could happen to children all because he could notice one little thing or he hadn't paid enough attention. 

Sure, he was being a hovering parent—call it what you want—but Toji would rather be that than a father who would spend his free time sleeping around with several different women. Never wanting to have to explain to his children that none of the women he slept with could compare to the relationship he had with their mother.

So he didn't. No more attachments. No more romantic anything, let alone bringing a woman home.

It was the secretary's fault. She was a beautiful woman with long hair and a cute, petite figure, and she allowed him to fold in any position that he wanted against his desk.

All that just makes Toji feel more guilty, or more worried, as if this choppy relationship that he had with this poor woman, whose name he would always forget yet who would practically scream out his, would just blow up in his face.

What if she wanted something more serious?

What if Nanami found out that he was banging one of the employees?

What if he got fired because he couldn't keep it in his pants?

What if he lost his main source of income and couldn't provide for his kids anymore?

All of those worries were just added stress, crowding his plate until he couldn't carry it anymore, and after a few years of bottling it all up until he couldn't anymore, he finally decided to reach out for help. 

Little by little, of course, he would actually tell his friends how he felt when they asked, spend more time letting Megumi and Tsumiki be actual kids, letting them hang out with their friends, and worry just a bit less whenever they would visit their younger cousins at Geto’s place. 

He had even accepted Gojo’s idea of hiring a babysitter, but of course, the blonde’s intentions for such an offer were dual-minded. 

Thriving on about how he should hire some smoking hot lady, to have some eye candy around the house to fuel some busting fantasies to break his dry spell. 

Toji was quick to dismiss that idea for a variety of reasons, one of which was that he had hired you. You were a clumsy young girl who just needed a side hustle to pay for some of your college classes, accepting his twenty-dollar an hour ad despite the fact that it was the lowest pay sandwiched between the obviously more wealthy families looking for someone to look after their kids so they didn't have to on the boogie nanny seeking website. 

At first, the idea of leaving his children alone with you was a terrifying thought. The impression that you gave him during the interview was more than enough to fuel his worries after seeing you stumble out of your car and get your jacket in the car door, dense to the point where you had face-planted into his back during the house tour, too busy gawking at the many bathrooms to pay attention to where you were supposed to be walking. 

Your genuinely bubbly personality around the children is what saved you from going broke. Sure,  you were a little naive when it came to some of the things that you lied about on your resume, but the thing that Toji liked about you was that you just seemed to handle yourself so well despite not knowing at all what you were doing. If anything, he admired how you had managed to keep yourself alive despite running through life so differently than he would.

You were quick to gain his trust, in fact, quicker than anyone has ever in his entire life. He felt his feelings were mostly biased given that his kids had practically attached themselves to you throughout the months of being their nanny. 

It was only natural for them to grow so close to you with how much Toji had to work, but what Toji hadn't expected was for you two to form some sort of friendship as well.

It started off pretty odd, with Toji coming home to find you have the kids tucked in for the night and spread out on his living room couch watching so many movies on his HBO Max account that he forgot he even had. 

You were a pretty chatty person, and he had learned to notice how you could go from being so silent that he would forget you were even there to the point of talking about anything within your wide range of interests that Toji had never heard of.

In all honesty, Toji loved that about you—how you could introduce him to new things that he hadn't gotten around to understanding all because he was too busy being a workaholic.

His new favorite part about coming home was just to talk to you, or at least listen to your rant about some silly little show, or make him listen to one of the new songs you had become obsessed with.

And before he had known it, Toji actually felt warmth in his household again, all because of some kind-hearted nanny who had managed to break down all of his walls.

It was almost strange how someone so opposite to him, someone so minor, could have managed to make his life change for the better.

And then it got a little bit more strange. 

Life had been going so well for him that sometimes those days would just blend together. There would be times at work when he had wished for his entire office building to crumble to dust just so he could get out of work early for the day, but even after those shifts, he would come home to you, and suddenly that swallowing dark hole in his chest would actually start to feel whole again.

He had just gotten so used to using you as his personal happiness dispenser that when you managed to wiggle into his life more and more, he even introduced you to his main group of friends. His mood was ruined when he saw Gojo's eyes practically glow at the sight of you during Tsumiki's birthday party. 

Toji hadn't understood why it had bothered him so much, seeing his best friend become too chummy with you.

If anything, knowing Gojo’s history of charming the pants off of any attractive woman, he could have prepared him enough to know that you too would soon enough fall victim to at least one of his friends, but there was just something so uncomfortable about hearing Gojo drown you in compliments.

It was as if something had clicked, and suddenly you weren't just the full-time nanny anymore, but the beautiful young woman that he had suddenly noticed was so pretty, and that alone made Toji feel like such a fucking creep. 

Maybe it was because you were closer to his children's age than his or the fact that every time you would change your hair every other month, he would imagine his hands tangled in your braids, how he would think about holding the locs away from your face to get a better view of you between his legs. 

It was all so fucked, your now normal image of him all screwed over all because of Gojo and his ability to turn anything sexual. Toji had felt just a little better pinning the blame on someone else, thinking that maybe it would ease his guilt for getting so hard thinking about you late at night.

You would be just downstairs asleep in the living while he laid down on the other side of the house in the comfort of his four walls, pressing his face into his pillows with an erection hard enough that he was convinced it was harder than bricks. 

For the first time in a while, it wasn't anything work-related taking up all of his attention, but instead the fucking nanny he hired. The pretty nanny who was in college, who was closer to his children's age than his, the nanny with the glossed lips that he had to hold back from wanting to taste which flavor it was she was wearing now. 

His lovely nanny, whom he wished to strip naked piece by piece to pay close attention to every dip and curve in her figure. He wanted you naked as the day you were born, spread across his mattress, lips parting only to say his name and his name only. 

It was a dangerous thought, one that often led to Toji revealing himself with a rabbit hole of thoughts about you in any situation his mind could imagine.

It was even more crude—wrapping his hand around his dick and thrusting his hips up into his hand, thinking about the same woman who was just a staircase away, masturbating as if he were a teenage boy and not a man with two kids asleep in just the room across the hall.

He blamed everything on Gojo, it was all his fault that you have suddenly seemed so fucking unforgettable. How could you suddenly be all he could think about with all his sanity thrown out the window for some nanny?

His pretty nanny.

You were so beautiful, with full lips, a dark complexion, and brown eyes that managed to look so appealing despite being so boring. Your expressions make you so easy to read. 

The way your brows would pull together whenever you were confused, how the ends of your lips would quirk with every joke, how your personality managed to be so welcoming.

You stood tall, your head just below his shoulder, average height but so short in comparison to his towering figure.

How bad Toji just wanted to scoop you up into his arms and bury his face into your neck, the same neck where he wanted to leave as many marks as he possibly could against your brown skin.

The thought doesn't help Toji’s aching dick at all. How bad he wants to suck little marks into your soft flesh, leaving dark little marks wherever he can against your body.

It was a possessive thought, having you covered in his teeth marks and love bites, waiting for the next guy to dare to even make a move on you. 

He wonders how soft your thighs feel and how nice they would feel wrapped around his waist. He lets his hand do the majority of the work, his fingers rough around his length, causing a groan from the friction. 

Toji’s fantasies about you play out quite beautifully in his mind, so perfectly, in fact, that he struggles to keep himself silent. 

Which was a new thing for him given that Toji wasn’t usually very vocal during sex, not even the best blowjob that he had ever gotten would he give anything but a few grunts yet there he was fisting into his fist to keep himself from whimpering out so pathetically. 

Humping his hand to the point where he had to cover his own mouth, he finished all over himself, strings of cum shooting all over his chest to his shirt. He was too caught up in his own bliss to care about the sad mess he created. 

Toji thought you were beautiful. He thought you were so perfect to the point where even the simple thought of you made him so happy.

You, his nanny, were the realization that settled in his mind after his high. 

🔖 @tojidilfs @s-witch-bitch @chloee0x0 @kawatabae @haitaniwhor3 @pluzo @hey-gurls69 @momoewn @kogoshidied @disaster-rose @hoohoohope @pidwidge @jadeisthirsting @zuuki @watyousayin @tojishugetiddies @rumi-rants @justanotherkpopstanlol @awkwardaardvarkforever @lexiinanime @melty-kisses @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kiyomeichann @wenumsmol @unholybabyface @ficti0nalslxt @namidaass @princesstiti14 @watyousayin @crissteetee @ziggy-09 @anotherlovelyruin

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[tinytennisskirt]

TINYTENNISSKIRT PERSONAL FAVES & PERSONAL SUMMARIES (CHALLENGERS)

summarizing my favourite fics that I've written so maybe if you haven't read them, you find reason to. Not in any specific order.

More Than Anything- Art Donaldson

I love this one a lot personally. It was a request and although I had to stretch to make ends meet, I am a huge fan of friends to lovers. I love childhood best friend! Art so much. He's a cutie. But thats what this is, childhood best friends to lovers but the platonic doesn't change. It just alters. The miscommunication, the misunderstanding of Patrick's words to reader are hurtful and they change things but Art fixes it and brings it all back together? I was already in love. It's worse. A kiss ending with a HUG ending is a weakness for sure.

Cottage Culture- Art Donaldson

It's an Art fic but it definitely doesn't lack Patrick. I love the dynamic I wrote for reader and the boys- its very established that they are long time friends and are very comfortable with each other. There's a lot of casual touching which means a lot to me. I love it. But Art who has feelings ugh love him for it. It's that thing with the trio where the connection between reader and Art is just a little bit more intimate in the ways that matter. Just a hint, but it makes so much difference. Plus a kiss in the water? Need. This fic takes place at a cottage away from the world and takes place over the course of a few days, so there's so many instances of attraction and so many POVS. It's also very summery so if you're feeling like a cottage getaway with your two fav challengers boys, this is perfect.

Let It Linger- Art Donaldson

I think I'm probably most proud of this fic. It took forever to write and I actually gave up twice, but it got completed. It's like an AU of the movie itself, but it bounces back and forth like a tennis ball on a court from Art's time at MRTA to post-canon divorced! Art who is searching for his old best friend at their 15 year high school reunion. I really really love this one because it's very friendship and yearning oriented. How close reader and Art get to being together before they fall out and into no contact for fifteen years but he sees her again and talking to her again feels like no time has passed? Finding out that fifteen years ago, reader liked him too? I really like writing super non-romantic romantic scenes like the simple things and the simple conversations between reader and Art that are so specifically somehow intimate though they're trying to make it feel like it's not. It's friends to lovers but in a way that isn't exactly satisfied. It's honestly so fucking good, I loveeee this one.

Sweetheart- Patrick Zweig

an AU where Patrick is a girl dad is just the perfect universe. He's a single dad in a cluttered house with an absolute angel genius of a daughter and reader is considerably younger than him. She's twenty, he's nearing forty. It's not inherently romantic at first, it's just banter, but he's soooo dirty. He can't help but think about her in a way that isn't exactly holy. And she's got some semi-innocent crush on him. He goes on dates but every night he comes home and has his little bits of banter with her and things get increasingly harder to manage over time. He might actually like her which is crazy, but I never specifically wrote that he does like her in any way that isn't sexual because I wanted the reader to kind of be in the not-knowing because why would anyone expect his character in this to be ACTUALLY into the twenty-year-old babysitter? This one is a smut and it's honestly really tasty and rough, but the ending is what is supposed to get you like 'ah, I see. feelings.'

Best Friend Patrick Zweig who is Totally Not In Love With You

This was my second headcanons list and I somehow ended up giving it a plot, so it's not just headcanons. It's a list of things Patrick does as your best friend who has feelings for you. The list format is loose, it's a headcanon and then it's like... written dialogue underneath the headcanon to explain it so it's more engaging. I really enjoyed tapping into my autism like 'yeah, he'd do that'. It's got all the good stuff like some jealousy, some quiet yearning, He's repressing his feelings which I love because it's so him. He and reader have a good dynamic and it's NOT ONLY x reader but it's also NOT ONLY headcanons. It's a good mix!!!

Those Three Words- Patrick Zweig

I'm honestly a little unreasonably obsessed with this one. It was such a small but well-written request I just HAD TO make it extra. I honestly never really plan out the way my fics go other than knowing the basics. But the aspects are always just as I go. Patrick going from a player to set on ONE girl for the first time in his life is wild and crazy and he likes her and gets her number but they're friends for months before they start dating. Reader becomes one of his best friends and it's lovely and fun and he's so into her. Surprisingly so. Like even takes him by surprise but it's so fun to write Patrick who is actually IN LOVE for the first time WHAT SO CRAZY. I love domestic life kinds of romance and yeah he says I love you so soon, but he means it. And he gets a bit of a monologue and it's funny and he's soft with her which I love and adore.

Just some behind the scenes thoughts. All fics are linked at their titles! Also just a sly little reminder that I LOVEEEEE comments. Your thoughts and feedback mean the world to me. Also, requests are open always <3333

[sh1-n0bu]

HELLO HELLOOO I was just wondering if I could ask if you could do a

Kaeya or Thoma ORR Diluc x Self destructive reader? Maybe any genshin character but whenever my mind goes to angst my mind automatically goes to Kaeya and Diluc LMAO

And basically Reader has a hard time expressing feelings and finds comfort in their lowest so they are seen as reserved

And Kaeya or (Character) tries their very best to help them despite reader rejecting their affections and worries But Kaeya or (Character) loves them too much to let go so they just stay by Reader's side

You can add more or plan the rest of the story but right now that's all I could explain

One last if I could ask I'd like to be Banananon/ 🍌 Anon

Besides that have a great time! Your works are amazing 🫶

✿ 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ✿

characters: kaeya, diluc and thoma x nb!reader

warnings: angst, comfort, reader daydreams a lot, mentions of self harm and healed scars

notes: what the reader is going through and their description of self destructive thoughts, actions and behaviors are all greatly influenced by my own not so great moments. if such topics are triggering to you then please scroll past or continue with caution. i hope you’re all doing well in this dark times. i love you and thank you for being here

as the sole survivor of his family and the one given the task to be his destroyed home nation’s one and only hope, the cavalry captain has his own dark moments

definitely did used to self harm as well. it only worsened after his fight with diluc and crepus’ death

and seeing you, his closest companion, lover, his light and life, his dark days and pillar suffer through the same things makes him want to curl up on the floor and wail until there’s nothing left in him

will sit you down and have a nice long talk with you. it can range from your self destructive habits, self harm scars, bad coping mechanisms to even the gossips the cavalry captain had heard or shared with lisa, how diluc’s hair seemed a bit more trimmed today at angel’s share, how the cats at cat’s tail was seemingly more affectionate etc etc

anything you want to talk about, kaeya’s here

scars, relapses or even a new stimming you’ve got, he notices the second he sees it. he may have one eye but he’s keen on noticing the smallest, minute detail that is changed

but if you don’t wish to talk about it or don’t hint anything to him then it’s okay. kaeya can wait but please don’t take too long until you have completely destroyed your own self beyond recognition. he can’t carry the guilt and regret

if you have been relapsing too much then kaeya will have no other choice but to sit you down and talk about it

he will even come to a compromise to quit his alcohol addiction and learn to live again with you, together

if he comes back from his work to see you feeling down in the dumps, prepare yourself to be wrapped up in the biggest fluffy blanket like a burrito and given cuddles and smooches mwah mwah mwah mwah (¯ ³¯)♡

“there there, darling. we’ll go through this together”

another person who has self harmed in the past

personally speaking, i think he used to self harm in a deprivation type of way especially during his time when hunting the fatui harbingers in the merciless eternal winter clad nation of shneznaya

depriving himself of food, water, hygiene, sleep, the basic human necessities to survive

so after the whole hunting harbingers thing is over and the wine tycoon comes back to mondstadt, diluc’s trying his best and starts to let go of his self harming habits, actions etc

in the present time when he sees you, his lover, the dawn to his dark side, the apple of his eye and his most cherished person doing the same things he used to do - it pains him immeasurably

diluc is a straightforward person. if there’s something he doesn’t like he says it, shows it without wasting a single second

but this. this was an incredibly sensitive and a hard topic for anyone to talk about or mention

so he decides to wait for you to say something or even give him the smallest of hints first. however don’t take too long because if diluc sees you continuing to be self destructive then he’s taking things into his own hands

will bring up about the topic on a warm night, when the two of you are cuddling close to each other under the blankets as the fire in the fireplace crackles softly

the atmosphere is soft, silent and comfortable with the smell of your cups filled with hot cocoa wafts through the air. this is when diluc gently brings up the topic

will patiently wait until you wrap your mind around things and answer him. even then the uncrowned king will stay quiet, taking in every words, every names, every breath and sighs you produce with a gentle squeeze to your intertwined hands

when you’re finished opening up to him, diluc will place down both of your cups on the nightstand of the bed and pull you in for a cuddle. you can cry if you want to, he will soothingly rub shapes and sizes into your shoulder with a low hum to soothe you

“it’s alright, my love. you’re safe now. here, with me”

first of all

yes my skrunkly (you), you can marry the puppy vibed blonde fictional man you saw on your device screen. mama nobu approves, he looks like a green flag

anyways, with that shit out of the way

green flag. seriously. just green flag all over

thoma has personally never experienced or committed any self deprecating, harming or destroying actions, thoughts or whatsoever

he does have bad days but that’s it. bad days. he likes to stay enthusiastic about life and living in general so he simply sits down, takes a breather, maybe pay a visit to the stray cats and dogs he looks after in inazuma city before continuing

when thoma first notices your scars whether they’re healed or not, or even sees your self destructive habits such as not eating when your stomach is grumbling, tugging on your hair harshly, peeling the skin around your nails - thoma instantly reaches his hands out and envelopes yours in his own

with a soft voice, the housekeeper would envelop both of your hands in his before looking into your eyes with the most saddest kicked puppy look

will ask you if you’re okay first and foremost before holding your hand and walking back home together. on the way he will buy you some of your favorite treats, drinks, point out a newly opened shop, a new vendor etc etc

when home, thoma would make a nice chamomile tea before sitting down with you on the chabudai. first will start with the small little talks about what happened during his time at the kamisato’s, a cute cat he saw and will eventually slowly drift into your habits

he will be here with you through thick and thin. you’re his pudding after all but before that you are your own person and you deserve to live

“sweettums… i will always be here with you through anything and everything okay?”

[demons-i-get]

What's in a Name

Destiel fic let's gooooooooo I actually wrote this like, a year ago, but it's not my usual style and a little bit outside my comfort zone so I was never sure about posting it but here we are! I'm still nervous 😅 Let me know what you think! But also pls be gentle with me I am just a litol guy <3 Characters: Dean, Castiel Pairings: Dean/Castiel Warnings: vague sex? Like, it's happening but there's not really any details and it's definitely not explicit at all. Otherwise I can't think of anything else. Please don't hesitate to let me know if I should add anything, though! Word count: 1,324 Ao3

~ ~ ~

Castiel doesn’t understand human ‘pet names’ and ‘terms of endearment’ as well as he would like. He knows them, has heard them and parroted them and tried so hard to understand, but he just cannot grasp why. 

He does not understand why he should call Dean anything other than his name, his name which means love and safety and protection and home and strength and power and all that Dean is to him and more. Why would some random word be more special, how could a word that millions of other, simple people use on their other, simple partners mean more than Dean, when that single syllable, those four little letters, are unique and singularly his own. When the sound of Dean rolling off his tongue is the sound of divinity. 

But then. 

Oh, but then. 

Then Dean greats him in the morning as he stumbles into the bunker’s kitchen with a cup of coffee prepared just the way he likes it still warm and fresh and steaming as he wraps his fingers around it with a soft, “Good morning, sunshine,” as he places a gentle, almost reverent kiss on Castiel’s forehead. 

And Castiel feels his chest go warm and soft and okay, maybe he can understand it a little better now. 

Then Castiel gets hurt on a hunt and Dean is right there beside him, putting pressure on the wound and getting Castiel’s blood all over his hands and shirt but his eyes are wide, and his voice is shaky and terrified as he says, “Hey, hey, Cas, c’mon, stay with me, you gotta stay with me, babe,” and presses their foreheads together and he is begging with Castiel to hold on just a little longer because help is on the way “you just need to hold on a little longer for me, angel, you can’t go to sleep yet, just a little longer.” 

And when Castiel wakes up in a hospital bed minutes or hours or days later with Dean’s voice calling him “babe” and “angel” still ringing in his ears and he cannot feel the pain of his wounds because he is filled too much with the warmth and softness and love from Dean’s words to know the feel of anything else, he thinks maybe he does get it now, maybe he is beginning to understand why when Dean says those words with such softness and love and adoration. 

Then Dean is hurt and Castiel is panicking because he doesn’t have his Grace anymore, he is painfully, pitifully, uselessly human and he doesn’t know what to do but Dean is holding his hand and making their eyes meet and he is comforting and reassuring Castiel which is wrong, it is wrong because Dean is the one that is hurt and Castiel should be comforting and reassuring him, but Dean is squeezing his hand and saying, “hey, I’m alright, darlin’, it isn't much more than a scratch,” and he’s pressing a kiss to Castiel’s cheek and showing him, “look, it’s already pretty much stopped bleeding, darlin’, I've had much worse than this and come out the other side no worse for wear, yeah?” and Castiel thinks that he is burning bleeding breaking because Dean is hurt and he is bleeding but he is also right and Castiel knows this but he is still freaking out because Dean is hurt and he cannot heal him. 

And later, as Castiel runs his hands along the bandage he had wrapped so carefully around Dean’s chest to cover the jagged slash across his breast and ribs that he knows will scar, as he lays there with Dean’s head tucked into the crook of his neck and their legs tangled together within the sheets and wishes wishes wishes that he still had his Grace, he remembers how even bleeding and in pain Dean had called him “darlin’,” had said that word with such gentle, loving reassurance and how just hearing that word fall from Dean’s lips had calmed his racing heart, and he knows why, now, he has to because it cannot feel better than this, cannot possibly mean more than this, here, now. 

(Castiel has always spoken Dean’s name like a prayer, has always greeted him with, “Hello, Dean,” like worship, has always known their bond as something sacred and holy and sublime. Castiel is devoted to humanity and Dean is the alter at which he kneels because Dean Winchester is everything good and right and divine about humanity.) 

(Castiel is a Fallen Angel of the Lord, but he did not care and he did not regret a single action he had taken nor choice he had made that got him here because he knew what it was to feel true, human love for someone and what it was to be loved truly, deeply, selflessly in return.) 

(Castiel was kissing Dean, trailing his fingers along Dean’s scars, tracing constellations between the freckles scattered across Dean’s body like stardust. He was drinking in the color of Dean’s eyes, olive and emerald and gold and amber like sunlight filtering through the trees to dance along the forest floor, like light refracting through a glass of Dean’s favorite aged whiskey, like starlight casting shadows through a stained-glass window. Castiel would kiss and worship and pray and love until Dean could no longer doubt his devotion, until Castiel had wrung every last drop of self-loathing from his body and convinced Dean that he was worthy of being saved, he was worthy of being loved, he was worthy of living, until Dean believed that he did not have to earn their love.) 

(Castiel would praise and worship and prostrate himself on the ground at Dean’s feet until Dean no longer thought himself expendable, no longer thought himself nothing more than another obstacle to be placed between his loved ones and anything that wished them harm, no longer thought himself something to be used up and broken down and thrown away with disgust like one might discard rancid meat.) 

Then Castiel was unraveling Dean, slowly, carefully, one gorgeous, gossamer thread at a time with his hands and his mouth and Dean was writhing beneath him, rendered breathless by his steady ministrations and Dean was breathing his name like a prayer, gasping it into Castiel’s shoulder like a plea, letting it tumble from his lips like a hymn as he cries out and trembles and comes completely undone and Castiel is kissing bruises into Dean’s skin, marking his flesh and drowning in the taste of him and Castiel is lost in Dean’s ecstasy, he is flying with wings built from all of Dean’s sinful noises and loving touches and then he is nipping Dean’s ear and whispering, “my beloved, my righteous man, ol monons, ozien, obza,” slipping into Enochian, calling and claiming and consoling Dean all at the same time (my heart, mine own, my other half). 

And then, oh and then, Castiel finally knew why, finally understood, as he and Dean lay tangled together, warm and full and sated, as Dean turns to him and asks what the Enochian means and Castiel explains, as Dean’s face melts like sugar on Castiel’s tongue into a soft, warm look of such utter love and adoration and tenderness that Castiel forgets how to breathe, as Dean watches him with those honey-whiskey-sage-pine irises still lit from within by an all-encompassing bliss, as Dean’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles and dimples appear at the corners of his kiss-swollen lips and this, Castiel knows, is why, now he understands because it is all about the way Dean looks at him so lovingly, so trustingly, so bashfully at hearing that he is something Castiel treasures and loves and adores and Castiel will spend the rest of their lives branding that look on Dean’s face into his mind just as he burns the words into Dean’s skin with every kiss and bite and breath they ever share. 

[baki-tiene-un-simp]

Hiii, could you please make some hc for guevara, mumon, musashi and retsu with an s/o that is basically an abnormality, for example she has like 4 arms because she was suposed to have a twin but she like ate her in the process and is like albino bit still has some color in her hair like blond and ginger and is like deaf due to the amount of abnormalities that she has and has like spots on her body due to vitiligo and things like that, like a really really weird s/o that is like extremely unic.

I would like to see musashi's reaction like thinking she is like a ghoul or an goddess or even an angel or something.

Sorry if it's too long or it doesn't appeal to you.

Have an amazing day and hope everything is ok with you 💕💕💕

Situation: S/O with some bodily peculiarity / S/O con alguna particularidad corporal.

Characters: Jun Guevara, Mumon Katsuragi, Musashi Miyamoto and Retsu Kaioh.

Jun Guevara.

He cannot believe what he sees, they must be a deity that came down from the heavens to delight humanity with their presences, so majestic and merciful.

No one should doubt his love for his S/O, there is simply no more way for Jun to show how much he loves his S/O in case anyone has any doubts, no matter how they look.

As if this man could find anything wrong with his partner, really, he is an idiot in love with the sea and his S/O. There's nothing else on that head other than his S/O. I'll even leave it at this point, it's just obvious.

Mumon Katsuragi.

Mumon can be curious, but he is extremely laid back, he won't dig too deep if the S/O's are reluctant to talk about their aspects.

He may be a little silly, but he is not an idiot and he knows how to read people, so he will be in charge of making his S/O feel at ease when they are with him.

Sporadic and sincere praise, smiles and good wishes. He is sweet.

If they ever seek to be heard, Mumon will be there, he will listen to their insecurities and make them feel loved. He can understand if they feel too left out in some places and will comfort them for that.

He can make his S/O happy, no matter what they look like, he loves them.

Musashi Miyamoto.

To be honest, I think he would see the S/O as some kind of supernatural deity or spirit.

His mind is greatly influenced by traditional beliefs where he respected and feared supernatural creatures because they brought fortune or destruction.

I think he would kneel in front of the S/O after watching them uncomfortably for a while, asking for wisdom and strength to continue getting stronger.

A little reluctant to stop believing that they are deities, even if someone else or the S/O themselves explains that this is not the case. He'll stop mentioning it out loud, but I'm sure he still believes it.

Their relationship is a little strange at first for this very reason; Many people ask for kisses/blessings from their partners for good luck as motivation, while Musashi will firmly believe that his S/O does grant him luck.

He is the most faithful and devoted admirer of his S/O, he is also the most dangerous, he does not accept insults towards his S/O. They are warned.

Retsu Kaioh.

MY man is really understanding, he wouldn't be able to single out anyone for any particularity, because that's not honorable.

For this man, the sentimental and spiritual connection is painfully important, it is at a level far above the physical appearance.

The S/O will not need to worry about awkward questions when talking to Retsu, he would never point out the S/O's particularities unless they themselves are willing to talk about it. He understands that some people don't like to talk about these issues, so he won't touch it.

If they dare to talk about their aspects, they can trust that Retsu will listen, perhaps the question of “Does this affect your health?”, will leave Retsu's lips listening to them. That's all he cares about.

I'm not trying to say he's the best option yes that's exactly what I mean, I just want to clarify.

Versión en español

Jun Guevara.

Él no puede creer lo que ve, debes ser una deidad que bajo de los cielos para deleitar a la humanidad con su presencia, tan majestuosa y misericordiosa.

Nadie debería dudar sobre su amor por su S/O, simplemente ya no hay más forma en que Jun pueda demuestre cuanto ama a su S/O por si a alguien le queda dudas, se vea como se vea.

Como si este hombre pudiera encontrar algo malo en su pareja, de verdad, es un idiota enamorado del mar y de su S/O. No hay nada más en esa cabeza aparte de su S/O. Incluso lo dejaré hasta aquí, simplemente es evidente.

Mumon Katsuragi.

Mumon puede ser curioso, pero es extremadamente relajado, no indagará demasiado si el S/O se muestra reacio a hablar sobre su aspecto.

Puede ser un poco tonto, pero no es idiota y sabe como leer a las personas, por lo que se encargara de hacer sentir a gusto a su S/O cuando estén con él.

Elogios esporádicos y sinceros, sonrisas y buenos deseos. Es dulce.

Si alguna vez buscan ser escuchados, Mumon estará ahí, escuchará sus inseguridades y los hará sentir queridos. Puede entender si se sienten demasiado excluidos en algunos lugares y los consolará por eso.

Él puede hacer feliz a su S/O, sin importar como se vean, él les ama.

Musashi Miyamoto.

Para ser honesta, creo que él vería al S/O como una especie de deidad o espíritu sobrenatural.

Su mente está sumamente influenciada por las creencias tradicionales en donde se respetaba y temía a las criaturas sobrenaturales porque daban fortuna o destrucción.

Pienso que se arrodillaría frente al S/O después de obsérvales incómodamente por un rato, pidiéndole sabiduría y fortaleza para seguir haciéndose fuerte.

Un poco reacio a dejar de creer que son deidades, aunque alguien más o el propio S/O le explique que no es el caso. Dejará de mencionarlo en voz alta, pero seguro que lo sigue creyendo.

Su relación es un poco extraña al principio por esto mismo; muchas personas piden besos/bendiciones de sus parejas para la buena suerte como motivación, mientras que Musashi creerá firmemente que su S/O sí le otorga suerte.

Es el más fiel y devoto admirador de su S/O, también es el más peligroso, no acepta insultos hacia su S/O. Advertidos están.

Retsu Kaioh.

MI hombre es realmente comprensivo, él no sería capaz de señalar a nadie por ninguna particularidad, porque eso no es honorable.

Para este hombre es dolorosamente importante la conexión sentimental y espiritual, está a un nivel muy por encima del aspecto físico. Muy por encima.

El S/O no necesitará preocuparse por preguntas incómodas al hablar con Retsu, él jamás señalaría las particularidades del S/O a menos que este mismo este dispuesto a hablar de ello. Entiende que a algunas personas no le gusta hablar de estos temas, así que, no lo tocara.

Si se animan a hablar de su aspecto, pueden confiar en que Retsu escuchara, quizá la pregunta de “¿Esto afecta a tu salud?”, salga de los labios de Retsu después de escucharlos. Es todo lo que le preocupa.

No estoy tratando de decir que es la mejor opción sí, es exactamente lo que quiero decir, solo quiero aclararlo.

[steviewashere]

Love at First Trim (Chapter 1/???)

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Implied/Referenced Child Abandonment, Implied/Referenced Break-Up Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Alternate Universe - No Supernatural, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Set in the 2000s, Mild Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Older Eddie Munson, Older Steve Harrington, Original Child Character, Single Parent Eddie Munson, Hair Stylist Steve Harrington, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Flirting (But it Sucks), Eddie Munson has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Dialogue Heavy, Tags May Change, Rating May Change

Read on Ao3

Single Parent Eddie Munson, my beloved.

Fair warning, I know nothing about hair care or cutting hair or dyeing hair. All of my research comes from Google. And also, I am aware that trimming Eddie's hair probably would've worked better if it was wet. It is not. Oops.

✂️—————✂️ “You wanna do what to your hair?!” Eddie shrieked.

He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe the gall that his daughter had. She’s recently turned thirteen—the age of discovery. The age where she’s finding her footing, her style, her everything. And, Eddie gets it. He so totally gets it. Eddie was thirteen when he shaved his head the one and only time, when he began to make his battle vest, when he snuck off to a bus towards Indianapolis and saw Judas Priest in concert. So, yes, he gets what she’s doing.

“Dad,” his little girl (not so little) sighs. “I want to dye my hair. Like my friend Sarah. She’s got the most beautiful head of hair right now! Purple, Dad. Her hair is purple.”

“No—no, I got that,” he sighs himself. “But Ella, my little munchkin, my sweet angel baby; you don’t want to dye your hair with something, y’know, a little more neutral first? What if you absolutely hate having color?”

Ella shoots him a glare. So lethal, Eddie swears he feels the bullet enter his chest. “So you were cool about shaving the sides of my head. And the possibility of me getting my nose pierced as soon as I turn sixteen. But dying my hair red is where you draw the line?”

Okay, when she puts it like that, Eddie does sound a touch too protective. But his daughter’s head of hair is one of her crowning features. She’s got her dad’s curls, but her mom’s gorgeous sandy blonde hair. Maybe Eddie and Ella’s mom didn’t end on the best of terms—not that there was an ending to be seen, she had just up and left one day without a trace—but even he can admit that the sandy blonde is something other-worldly. Every single Munson has dark brunette hair, no abnormalities, no others. It’s difficult, even a bit frustrating, to what his little girl grow and change and differentiate herself. He’s excited for, absolutely, but he’s also such a papa bear by fault.

He rubs at his temples, tension building and building beyond belief. There’s no chance he’s winning this. “Okay, listen,” he mutters. Where she’d been incessantly tapping in the kitchen, several feet away from the carpeted living room where he’s stress slouched on the couch, she now falls deathly silent. Eddie takes a deep breath. “I will agree with you on this,” he states slowly, “on a few conditions.”

“I’m listening.”

“Your hair will be dyed with something like Manic Panic—not box dye. And you will do it at an actual salon. You won’t let a friend do it. I’m not going to do it. And you certainly will not be doing it yourself, do you understand?” He looks up from his lap and into the little window over the kitchen counter. Where she looks back. The ‘tude apparent on her features. He fights the urge to roll his eyes.

Ella continues to stare when the silence stretches. And then she heaves an enormous sigh.

“Little lady, do not sigh at me,” he firmly scolds. And for a moment, he feels like Uncle Wayne. He suppresses the shudder at what that means for him. He’s not even forty yet, he shouldn’t be acting like his way too old uncle. “Do you or do you not understand me?”

Relenting, Ella grumbles, “Fine. We’ll go to a salon.” She rounds the corner into the living room. Eyes him for a beat before settling next to him on the middle cushion. Her left hand reaches up to his hair, tugging at the ends. His hair isn’t the best it’s been—though there isn’t much of a contest, not since he was fifteen—it’s a little wiry, with several inches of dead ends, and already greying at the temples. But it’s still got the length to his shoulders and the bangs that curl inwards right above his eyebrows. Some definition, even. It’s still objectively good, for somebody who doesn’t always care about their hair.

She tugs again. “Mm, you should dye yours too,” Ella murmurs.

He startles and whips his head to her. ‘Absolutely not,” he adamantly refuses.

“Oh, c’mon, Dad,” she whines. “It doesn’t have to be your whole head, but it’d be like a friendship bracelet or something. Just get a streak and match with me. Please?”

“Wha—Hold on. You, my thirteen year old and angst-riddled teenager, wants to match with her dear old dad? Who—keep in mind—is nearing forty years old? Who you called an old fart the other day because he was reminiscing over ‘80s cartoons and explaining how CDs seem like a waste of time?” He incredulously asks. Eyes widening further with each word. His hands reach out and squeeze her cheeks, lift up her arms, twist her head left and right. “Who’s sitting on my couch right now? This certainly can’t be my kiddo,” he murmurs.

She rolls her eyes, swatting him away. The attitude on this girl is unbelievable. He almost wants to go over to the landline and call up Wayne and apologize for how he acted as a teenager. But he just quirks an eyebrow, cross his arms over his chest, and waits. Ella shrugs. “I just…I just want to do it. And I know I can be a brat or a butthead or whatever, but I do actually care a lot about you,” she admits quietly. “And…”

Then, she goes silent. Contemplative and squirmy. As if she doesn’t want to say the next part aloud.

“And?” Eddie searches.

“And I hear you sometimes talking to Grandpa Wayne about how you…You don’t know how to ‘connect’  with me. You always sound so sad and then you sound even sadder when you bring up how Mom…Before she left, how she could get me in an instant. And I just. I don’t know; I don’t want you to think there’s this distance between us,” she murmurs. “This is me offering a bridge, I guess.”

He swallows back the golf ball sized lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly. Eddie didn’t think she heard him, considering it was always so late at night. When all the neighborhood kids in Hawkins were asleep. But he realizes teenagers are going to be teenagers, staying up past their bedtime, eavesdropping. At least she isn’t sneaking out through her bedroom window like he did.

Something in him breaks, though.

She’s thirteen and too adult for his liking.

“I’ll do it, kiddo,” he agrees gently. “There’s a salon around the corner. We’ll go there this weekend, promise. Now, go do your homework before you make your old man cry.”

“You’re not old,” she grumbles, standing. “You’re just stuck in the past,” she states, retreating to her room. And then the door clicks behind her and Eddie’s left to stuff his crumbled pieces back inside, in the jar of his heart.

——— Come Saturday, he’s got two appointments made for them. Back to back. At first, he was unsure of who should go first. Out of safety, he had wanted to, but then Ella was just a bit too eager. And he knew that making her wait would be pointless.

He’s nervous, though, even as he parks in front of the salon. With the little plastic bag from the Sally’s down the street. The little tubs of bright red Manic Panic, bleach, and toner knocking against each other. Not once in his entire life has he thought about dyeing his hair or messing with it beyond shaving, trimming, and washing it. Has never considered the idea that his daughter would be someone who’d be interested in changing up her hair, too. All this to say he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“We’re going to be late for our appointments if you wait out here any longer,” Ella, oh so helpfully, reminds from the passenger seat.

“Are you sure you want to go first? This is a big change, you know. And maybe you’ll see the dye in my hair and realize you actually don’t—“

The passenger door opens and slams behind after her. He’s left in the driver’s seat to gape momentarily. Staring at his daughter impatiently waiting on the sidewalk. She gestures to the glass doors of the salon. The Pandora’s box of doors—a portal to the world of Harrington’s Salon. (Which—where has he heard that name before?) Ella’s arms point firmer at the open sign and the doors again. “Let’s go!” She yells at him through the windshield. He has no other option but to just get out and follow her in.

Immediately, the smell of aftershave hits his nostrils. That and hairspray. The lights are sort of bright. And the chairs are each aligned to their own mirrors. What hits him hard, however, is the person that emerges from the back room. Their hair is the first thing Eddie notices. Puffed up, held in place, yet soft and bouncing with his steps. Then his face—creased with smile lines and fitted with hazel honey eyes, a straight triangular nose, and pink pouting lips. Moles on his body, a few random freckles to match. His clothes are neat, but not stereotypical douchebag neat. Pressed blue henley overtop a white undershirt of sorts, tucked into a pair of worn in light wash jeans, and some dirties older Nike Cortez’s.

But most of all:

It’s Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington from high school. From a time when they were barely acquaintances, just stranger that caught each other staring; with malice, Eddie was never sure. Except, he’s older. Grayer throughout that beautiful head of hair, where his highlights used to be. His smile lines obviously deeper.

The moment of realization hits Steve, too. Instead of looking upset to see Eddie, though, he looks immeasurably happier. He smiles wide and inviting. Steps further towards the front counter and ushers them over.

“So, you two are my twelve and twelve-thirty appointments? The…Munson’s, right?” Steve asks brightly.

Eddie splutters for an embarrassing moment. Finally, though, he takes a deep breath. Answers, “Yeah, uh—Yeah. It should be under Edward, though? Or…it might be Eddie. I actually don’t remember which name I gave, I—“ He stops himself when he catches a quick glimpse of Ella’s face. Her eyes wide and an eyebrow quirked. Hip popped and arms crossed over her chest. “Yeah, Eddie Munson. And she’s Ella. She should be the one scheduled first, though for a full head dye job? We brought our own supplies, as I was told over the phone. Except, I dunno if I’ve got the right bleach and toner? I’m actually not sure if…I don’t know what I’m doing, honestly—“

Steve chuckles. His eyes squint with the stretch of his ever glowing smile. “It’s alright, Eddie. As long as you have the dye you’d like to use, I’ve got bleach and tools. Now…the question is, have we ever used bleach before? Or am I working with virgin hair?”

Before Eddie can even get the chance to take a breath, Ella is responding for them. “This is my first time. Dad’s been really strict about me ever using hair dye. It was a reeaalll hassle to convince him to do this. And an even bigger one to convince him to get a matching streak.”

“Okay, well, hopefully with my handy skills, the convincing won’t take as long. If you’re ready, Dad and Ella, I can get you guys situated in my chairs. I’ll start out with doing a test strip of bleach on your head, and if that ends up being a fail, then I can get started with using color immediately,” Steve explains. His voice stays light, despite essentially doing customer service. But he begins to walk slowly back towards one of the further most chairs, gesturing for Ella to sit down. She does, a soft smile plastered to her face, and then Steve ties an apron around her shoulders.

He follows hesitantly, sitting down in the adjacent chair, turned to watch. Hands over the bag of supplies when asked and waits with baited breath for Steve to survey his work.

“Hm,” Steve grunts. “This all looks good to me,” he murmurs. “I’m honestly so relieved you guys went with Manic Panic. This stuff is such a good first time dye and it’s not boxed. You would not believe the amount of botched dye jobs I’ve seen in the last decade or so all because of boxed colors. Honestly, those companies should be sued or something.” Eddie feels something stir low in his belly—something mixed with enamor with how Steve is genuinely excited to explain and do his work. Never, in a million years, would Eddie expect to see them here like this.

“Dad insisted on the Manic stuff. I almost made my friend smuggle in some boxed hair dye in my school’s restroom,” Ella confesses, a little breathy and nearly amused. She doesn’t look at Eddie at all, but he hopes that she feels his disapproving glare like daggers.

When there isn’t a response, Eddie drifts his sight over to Steve. Though, he isn’t concerned, instead finding him hyper-focused on his craft. He’s carefully grabbing a lock of Ella’s hair between his fingers. Checking it over to make sure it’s well hidden, in case this doesn’t work out. His tongue is poking out between his pouting lips, eyes squinted on his task, and eyebrows furrowed for the challenge. Once he finally finds a good enough chunk, he whispers, “A-ha!” And clips it to stand-out.

“So…” Eddie starts the conversation again, dragging out the word. He pats his hands down on his thighs. “How long does a test strand take?”

“For best results,” Steve mutters, now looking over the container of bleach, “I like to wait forty minutes. Just to ensure that there really isn’t any sort of reaction to the product. Longer means safer and that means I can sleep at night knowing I didn’t give a kiddo a bald spot or a chemical burn.” And then he looks over to Eddie, flashes him a quick and easing smile. He steps away for a moment, returning with an apron dutifully draped over himself, and begins mixing the product with something Eddie didn’t even grab.

“What’s that?” He asks.

Steve hums. “It’s developer. Don’t worry, it’s the same brand as the powder solution you brought. I can tell—“ He sets his little bowl of product down on the nearby counter. Faces Eddie as he puts on some latex gloves. “—That you’re nervous. I’ve been doing this for years, I know what I’m doing. Honed my craft real well.”

Eddie juts his chin up once in silent approval. And then he just sits back and watches.

This guy is an artist in his craft. He’s really undersold the whole “I’ve been doing this for years” gig. Steve is so gentle, so careful with Ella. He’s quick, efficient. Yet focused and tedious. It’s in the way he paints the mixture onto her hair, holding the hair between his fingers, how he really rubs the bleach in. In the calculated cut of foil he settles around the strand. How he puts all the utensils away, cleans up his equipment, hangs his apron up, and then comes back over to assess.

“Alright,” Steve sighs, over checking the foil. “We’ll keep that on there for forty minutes, my timer’s been set and is ticking. And then we’ll come back, rinse that out with cold water, and see how the hair reacted. If it worked, we can go ahead and bleach the whole head, same regime, and tone it afterwards.”

“And the color?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Hm,” Steve grunts again. He sticks his right hip out and places both of his hands on the waistband of his jeans. “I think,” he states slowly, “I think we should wait just a day or two for color.” He looks over to Eddie, eyes considerate and his face thoughtful. “Since her hair is new to this kind of treatment, we should take things a little easier. Usually, I’d go right in with the color after bleaching, but again—Virgin hair.”

“What about Dad?” Ella butts in. “His hair is also new to this kind of stuff.”

“Oh?” Steve asks curiously. “Really? I thought you would’ve done something funky to your hair, considering your whole…The whole aesthetic you’ve had for, what seems like, years.”

“Well,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. He shrugs. His cheeks are heated and his stomach is flipping with all of Steve’s attention on him. “I’ve always really loved how my hair’s looked. Reminds me of my mom, so.”

Steve’s gaze softens. Something like remembrance flashes over his face before settling back to a gentle thing. “Well, I’ll make sure to be careful with your hair, too,” he promises softly. “Yours should actually be done today. Considering it’s only one little strip, nothing too extravagant. I’ll test your hair with the bleach, too. Let me just head in the back and prepare another bowl of product for you. Be back in a jiffy.”

It’s weird having Steve Harrington be nice to him, considering the status he held in high school. But Eddie supposes that when time passes and circumstances change, you have to, too. And he thinks it’s accurate to say that Steve’s a changed man, with how gentle he is with the people around him. Even a person he may have never known, never gotten along with. It’s all the better when he comes back into the main part of the salon, gloves on, bowl of bleach in hand, and the softest of smiles adorning his features.

Eddie doesn’t stand a chance. Whatever inevitable heartbreak comes from this, at least he’ll know what Steve’s fingers feel like in his hair.

Ella leans over before Steve makes it to them. Whispers, “Dad, close your mouth. You’re practically drooling.”

“Wh—Huh?” He dumbly says.

She smacks his knee with the back of her hand, punctuating each word with another slap. “Stop. Ogling. My. Stylist.”

“I can do whatever I want, miss ma’am. I am an adult, mind you.”

Her eyes roll so hard, he fears they may just pop out of her skull. “Can you at least wait until after my head is bleached to do your weird flirting?”

“It’s not weird, Ells. Besides, even if I were flirting, I wouldn’t have the time. My hair’s gonna be a quick thing anyway.”

She goes to reply, but Steve sidles up beside her. Sets his bowl on the counter and looks to Eddie once more. “You ready to test this in your hair?” He asks, voice polite.

He nods like a loose spring. “Uh—Yeah, yeah, sure,” he squeaks out. “Just…Just a little nervous, is all. Like you said. Y’know. Nerves.” His palms are sweating like they may just be able to put out a damn fire. And he wonders, for the first time in ages: When did I get so out of practice? Eddie’s seeing this guy for the first time since their mutual senior year, a time when they weren’t even friends, and he can’t keep the humiliation out of his flirting. If it’s even flirting, that is.

“Hey,” Ella speaks up, “would it be alright if I sit in the waiting area with some headphones in?” She gives Steve a polite expression, but when she makes eye contact with Eddie it’s more of a: I’m Saving Myself the Embarrassment of This Reaction. He should’ve known that she’d pull something like this, she typically does if Eddie’s having a good interaction with somebody. How he didn’t spot her walk in with her Discman and some headphones, he’ll never know. But there they are, being gestured to in her lap, and her eyes gleaming softly for Steve to be tricked by. “I’ll make sure to avoid the foil in the back,” she tacks on for good measure.

And it works on Steve because her little gags always work on new people. He shrugs, smiles softly, and gestures loosely to one of the waiting area chairs. “I mean, knock yourself out. Could always sit here, but uh—“ He crouches down and leans in close, dropping his voice to a faux whisper. “—Between me and you, your dad is being a little embarrassing, huh?”

“Hey!” Eddie squawks.

Ella is amused, to put it lightly. She grins, holding back a snort. Eyes gleaming with something like mischief now. “Yeah,” she sighs as if she’s actually put out. “Guess I should just dump him on you for now. But you know what you’re doing, so it should be fine. Volume will be up, so just tap me or something.” When she walks past Eddie’s chair, he knows she’s fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

He does it back anyway. Because he’ll always be the bigger child, if he can help it.

Steve pats his shoulder, his hand lingering. “Don’t worry,” he says, voice normal again, “I don’t actually think that of you. I think…You being nervous about both of you guys is actually kinda sweet.”

Eddie snorts. “You don’t have to save face, man. She got my attitude, she’ll use it to her advantage. If she can ‘charm’ you into dealing with me, she will. Just the ways of a teenage girl with a dad ‘stuck in the past’, so she put it a few days ago.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll still be careful. Do you want me to get started on that test strip?”

He sighs, untenses his shoulders. “Actually,” Eddie begins. “I’ve been kind of eyeing myself in the mirror the couple of times you’ve gone into the back. And I was wondering if I’d be able to get a little trim? I’ll pay you for the extra work, of course! But I…God, it’s been a while.”

Above him, Steve hums. His eyes roam, calculating. He peels off his left latex glove and plucks some of Eddie’s dead ends. Thumb working over the wiry hair. “I can, of course I can. How much are you willing to take off? Might be a good…Hmm, two inches?”

“Where would that put me length wise? Sorry, I just don’t know much about hair. Let alone how many inches I’ve got to work with.”

For a moment, Steve smirks. Yeah, yeah. That’s what she said, Eddie thinks. He gently swipes up a good couple inches from the same strand he’s been working with. And his face goes serious and contemplative again. “Think that would put you right at your collarbones,” he muses. “And, if you really are nervous, I could always bleach and dye your streak when she comes in next.”

“Really?”

Steve nods gently. “Yeah. I’m practically a hair wizard, I can do anything. Which includes doing your strand on top of her full dye.”

Eddie sighs, relieved. His heart’s been rabbiting behind his ribs for the better part of half an hour. It definitely doesn’t help that his high school crush is also his stylist today. Doesn’t help that he’s making nerd references while being gentle with Eddie’s little silent freakout. But gosh does it sound nice to not go head first into this. “Please, Steve,” he murmurs, “I just need a trim today. Nothing else.”

Fingers rake from the top of Eddie’s head down to his shoulders. Steve’s left hand resting heavily on his shoulder afterwards. “Let me go ahead and dispose of the product mixture, alright? Just get yourself comfortable and I’ll take care of you.”

If something awakens in the butterfly storm of Eddie’s stomach, he’ll never say. But he does indulge Steve’s request. Leans back fully into his salon chair. Spreads his legs a little to make sure he doesn’t need to readjust himself during the trim. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And by the time they’re opened again, Steve is back with an apron for Eddie’s clothes. He lets him drape it over silently. Relishing in their slow, mingled breaths. And the brush of Steve’s warm fingers to Eddie’s bare neck.

Steve is warm, solid, and soft. His face is immeasurably cute. Tongue poking out, eyebrows furrowed, squinting at the ends of Eddie’s hair. He breathes gently by Eddie’s ear. Fingers soothing and careful. Whenever they get caught in a tangle, he just quickly detangles it, doesn’t scold Eddie or sigh at him (like some other stylists have done in the past). For that, Eddie’s even more thankful than he thought he could ever.

What really makes him nearly squirm is when Steve bends down in front of him. Putting one another at direct eye level. He pinches the ends of Eddie’s bangs. Snips them. Combs them, even. Up close, Eddie can see how deep Steve’s smile lines really go. Where his crow’s feet are beginning to develop. The fine stubble above his upper lip. Every little strand of slivery grey in his hairline. Up close, Steve’s even more gorgeous than Eddie remembers.

“You do these yourself?” Steve asks softly, his voice deep and warm.

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs back, “been doing them in my bathroom since…Probably since freshman year of high school, honestly.”

A thoughtful grunt-hum. “They’re really good for somebody who doesn’t do this professionally,” Steve whispers. “I mean, I assume you aren’t a stylist.”

Eddie snorts. “God, no. I know how to take care of my hair, for the most part, and Ella’s. That’s all I do. I’m actually a mechanic nowadays.”

“Oh? You don’t do music anymore?” Steve asks, now standing back up, walking behind Eddie’s chair. His fingers rake through the bottom of Eddie’s curls again. And then he grabs the comb inside of his apron.

Eddie stops completely in his tracks. Frozen in his chair. Cheeks flushing. “How do you remember that I do music?” He asks quietly.

It finally hits Steve, too, what he said. His fingers halt and his cheeks blush and his eyes go wide where they meet Eddie’s in the mirror. “Uh,” he eloquently states. “I—Um. My best friend and I used to go to your bar shows? I-I thought you were really good.”

“Steve Harrington thought my crummy bar shows were good?”

“Well…Yeah? You were the best of the best when it came to the music lineups every night.”

“Every night?!” Eddie asks incredulously. “You were in the Hideout watching my stupid bar shows and I never saw you once? Are you pulling my leg right now?”

“No? Of course I’m not, Eddie. I used to see your Corroded Coffin posters in the halls and around town every once in a while and I thought, y’know, what if I stopped in there once? And so I did and you were really cool—I mean really good. I was just intrigued, man. I really wanted you to make it big,” Steve rambles. His fingers are still in Eddie’s hair, not stopped anymore, mindlessly combing. And his whole face is tomato red.

And even though he’s a little bit embarrassed, he’s still beautiful to Eddie.

Eddie blinks, taking in the information. Licks his lips, noticing the way Steve’s eyes follow the action. There’s tension here, Eddie can discern. The kind, he isn’t sure. “You should’a said hello, man. Maybe I would’ve done a private show for you.”

He spikes with pride at Steve’s continued flush, as it colors down his neck. Steve looks down to Eddie’s hair. Gently brushing both of his hands, palm and all, from the scalp to the ends. There’s a small smile on his face, graceful and pleased. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “But I doubt it. I mean, I was an asshole, Eddie. To people like you. Even if I did change by the time we shared a senior year, you probably would’ve…It doesn’t matter.” He goes back to snipping at Eddie’s dead ends. Focused on his task. “If I were a nicer guy, we could’ve been friends.”

At that, Steve goes silent again. Combing out the trimmed, loose hair. Even as it isn’t necessary. Even though Eddie knows he’ll be going home and showering after this. But he hums. “We can be friends now, though,” Eddie states quietly. “You seem like a good guy, Steve. Even if I don’t know you all that well, not yet, I can just tell that you are. You’re good with my little girl, you aren’t being an ass about me being nervous. You’re good, Steve. We should hang out.”

When he’s finally done, Steve stands at Eddie’s right side. Scissors and comb dutifully put away. His hands are on his hips again, looking down at Eddie with a quizzical expression. “You’d really want to be friends with me?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure, why not? I live just around the block. And I’ve got a lot of free time after work in the week. Let’s make a statement—Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are friends.”

He gets this sweet little grin on his face. Eyes squinting with the action. “Yeah, okay,” Steve huffs. “Sure, I want to be friends. Maybe take you up on that private show some time?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Eddie says, a little too quiet. A little too real. But he smiles. And knows, looking at Steve’s matching face, that he’s entirely fucked.

✂️—————✂️ Taglist is Open for this fic! (Comment to be added, please <3)

[gh0st-author]

lover of mine

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort but very bittersweet

summary: when i take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that i think i got right

warnings: mentions of death, lots of sad thoughts

A/N: ha ha .. guess who's back ... jk jk i've been away for a little while and i dipped in true fanfic author fashion BUT HEY im back now. and i was craving a bit of pain so here is a lil something angsty. its more of a character study than anything... also could you tell that ive been listening to lover of mine lmao

The serene silence of the night was interrupted by a strangled gasp, a broken intake of air momentarily cutting through the calm as a figure arose suddenly from their sleeping position, clutching their chest. Scarlet eyes flashed open, disoriented, hauntingly glancing around the room, the man trying to gather his bearings. He felt as if the walls were caving in around him, although the logical part of his brain was aware that those notions were only in his head. But lately, there was little difference between nightmares and consciousness to William.

And that was all that this was— a nightmare. A horrible fragment of his imagination seeping into his dreams and haunting his waking hours. Usually, the myriad of thoughts and emotions was kept tightly at bay in the furthest reaches of his mind, but at night when his defenses were lowered and his being slumbered, they seeped through and poisoned his dreams, his consciousness becoming a prison, caging him in. Faces flashed before his eyes, his own bloody hands, the weight of his own deeds and sins— oftentimes he felt less like a man and more like a whirling swarm of guilt, despair, and nihilty.

He directed his gaze at the ceiling, eyes tracing the veiny cracks weaving over it like spider webs, as his mind churned with thoughts. His soul was screaming out, but no sound seeped out. Power comes in response to a need, not desire. He felt no desire for bloodshed he dished out, found no enjoyment in it, yet he continued to drag himself further into hell, each step heavy as stone but unwavering, preserving what little hope was left at the cost of damning his soul. That was something he needed to do. He even abhorred violence, deeming it an absolute evil. Violence for violence was the rule of beasts, yet most days he felt as if it was the only language he knew how to speak. Maybe before long, he will become just like them, a violent animal of claws and teeth that did not know why it bit, crossing the blurry line of this dark gray area he roamed in and passing the point of no return. 

A minuscule movement and soft rustling of the sheets at his side drew his attention away from his musings. He gazed down at the figure sleeping next to him peacefully, face serene and bathed in moonlight. Shadows splayed over her skin making her look even more ethereal, hair draped over the silky pillowcase forming a halo around her head. An angel— or perhaps divine punishment for his sins. 

She was a being pure and unsullied by the darkness of the world; the darkness in him. Sometimes, he was almost afraid to touch her, in fear of tainting her pristine radiance with his stained hands. The mere fact that a person so far fallen like him was able to bask in the warmth she provided was as cruel as it was bitter-sweet. 

She was an existence that he shouldn't have been able to approach, and the reality of that seemed too harsh and unkind in actuality, yet he often found himself wondering if that was really true, though.

Reaching out to brush away a stray lock of hair from her forehead, he once again contemplated that thought. Maybe fate wasn't evil or cruel for sending him this brilliant shard of light. Perhaps it was actually merciful, providing him with a single taste of heaven— something he thought he had no hope of ever reaching. Maybe it was kind enough to gift him with this momentary reprieve. 

Her brows furrowed in her sleep as his ministrations disturbed her slumber. He slowly drew his hand back as her eyes opened, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

She shook her head and inched ever so closer to him. "Why are you not asleep? You have to teach early tomorrow." Her worried gaze ran over his face. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing." His throat was tight, each word rasping out almost painfully. "I am just... pondering."

She hummed lowly, considering him, then rose to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Hmm, a bad nightmare?" 

He sighed deeply, bone-weary, resting his cheek against her temple. "Don't concern yourself with it. I promise I am fine."

She let out another hum, and he knew what she was attempting, yet he was too weak to refuse her. She gently cradled his hands in her lap from where they'd been clutching the sheets and started tracing little patterns with her thumbs over them. "Tell me about it"

A small wry tilting of his lips, too fleeting to be called a smile, accompanied her actions. Exactly as he predicted. She knew precisely what to do to get him to talk. And that was no fault of hers, for he always acquiesced and yielded to her wants. "When I put my life into perspective, and all of my sins and crimes I committed, you are the one singular decision in it that I think I made right."

Her hands paused their movements and her gaze flew to his face, confused and slightly vexed. "What do you mean?"

Her face was so sincere, so unwaveringly loving, that he was barely able to endure the depth of her gaze. Yet he was unable to tear his eyes away from hers as the words spilled from his trembling lips. "My only right choice was meeting you, despite all of my wrongdoings. But your place is not with me, in the shadows. You should be out under the sun, never touched by our darkness."

Her brows furrowed once again, this time more severely, and he observed her face becoming even more confused and irked. "William you are talking nonsense." She clutched his hands tighter. "I chose you, William. Promised to be by your side through the good and the bad. No one else. You"

Another piece of his soul bloomed and withered away with her words, leaving its rot embedded deep in his chest. He slowly rose one hand from her grip to rest it gently on her cheek. "How I wish I could've loved you under different circumstances."

"Stop that!" she protested, shock subsiding, replaced with indignation. "You fight for equality. You are noble. You are not evi—"

"There is nothing noble about what I do." The look he gave her was cold and mournful, closed off. Any semblance of warmth leeched out of it. "Taking someone's life— even for a greater cause— is never justice." Dropping his hand from her face, he inched away from her, pulling away as the thick walls he usually built to keep these thoughts away crumbled in her presence. As he confessed to her the depths of his despair. "I never told you this before, but I plan to die." He didn't know if saying these words was a weight off his chest, or the last nail in his proverbial coffin. "I plan to atone with my death, to disappear as the last blight on society. To end the great evil that the masses depict me to be."

"Don't you dare!" Her words were a shocked gasp. And suddenly she understood— he saw it in her eyes that she did. She saw his guilt. Guilt, and grief, and resentment, and loathing. An inescapable torment weighing him down, trapping him, crushing him under the immense pressure of his deeds. A bottomless pit pulling him into its depths of despair. She understood why he condemned wrongdoings so harshly, why he mourned the loss of life. There was probably no one who valued human life more than him, yet was forced to extinguish it to save the majority. And he saw her terror. He saw her grief, her anguish, her heartbreak. 

With a sob, she threw herself in his embrace. She was shaking, trembling in his arms, and his chest caved in knowing he was the cause of her pain. Her plea was a broken whisper. "Don't you dare, William. Not like... that. Never like that. Remember our deal: Where you go, I go. If you die, I'll follow, since there is no me without you."

His mouth opened to protest, to refute her argument, to undoubtedly say something akin to her life holding more value than his, but she halted him with a firm grip on his shoulders. "Promise me!"

Her eyes were boring into his, and once again he found himself rendered speechless and unable to resist her. "I promise I won't." The falsehood tasted like ash on his tongue, and not for the first time he wanted to cut the lying appendage off. What good did it serve him if it only knew treachery and deceit? If it would only bring her more pain.

Her trembling hands wound around his figure as she hugged him tightly once again. "You are everything to me, William. I don't know what I would do without you. Please... Please never say something like that again."

A shuddering breath left his lips and he leaned completely into her, resting his head in the crook of her neck, feeling incredibly worn out and frail. "How do you not condemn me?"

Her hands slowly made their way up to brush through his hair, so achingly gentle. He couldn't remember when the last time that he'd been touched so lovingly was. Couldn't remember if he'd ever been before meeting her. "I love you, William, the broken parts and everything. Stained hands or not. I have always vowed to stay by your side. No matter how much our souls are tainted, we will spend the rest of our lives atoning for it— together. After all, is it better to just be born good or to achieve goodness through your own effort?"

She leaned back to smile at him, then brushed a soft kiss against his lips, still trembling from the onslaught of his raging inferno inside him. "Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone. Use the pain as a motive to continue forward. You will heal and you'll rise above it all."

Oh, she was so cruel, unintentionally so. Her sincerity was like bitter wine down his throat or a poison slowly making its way through his bloodstream. The simple fact that she truly believed there was any chance of redemption for him hurt more than death by a thousand papercuts. "I was correct." His hand lightly traced her cheek once again. Every word was a wound slowly bleeding out, draining his strength with it. "I really do not deserve you."

She shook her head, somber once again. "Stop saying that. I can't think of a man more worthy of my love and redemption." 

Darkness without light was an abyss. Light without darkness was blinding. You could not have a coin with only one side. Maybe they were like that. She was his perfect antithesis, his other side. The one that would grab and pull him out of the bottomless abyss of living hell, and he was the one that would ground her and shield her from flying too close to the sun. She would provide warmth to thaw away his frost, and he would keep her fire from burning out too fast. He only hoped he would be around long enough for her to not need him anymore. He hoped she wouldn't be too furious with him after he'd perished. What was another broken promise added to his ever-growing list of sins?

Because he couldn't stay with her in the light. She was still so incredibly radiant, not as far gone as he was. He knew that only the dead have seen the end of war. And that has always been his plan from the beginning. For how could he, a sinner as vile as the ones he was ridding the world of so diligently, be allowed to live in this new pristine world he was trying to create? How could she still see something good in him when he was the biggest evil that had to be eradicated? His fate has been set in stone since the first day he took Albert's hand, maybe even before that, yet with every new day he found his resolve on that matter wavering more and more. With each kiss from her; with every touch; with every love-filled glance— she made his icy determination crumble under her warm light. He was nothing but a coward wearing the face of a revolutionary, desperately clinging to life— to her— when he knew he couldn't. But for her, he almost thought it was worth it to live.

Sometimes he felt as if he could feel time moving, slipping through his fingers, and that dreaded moment of judgment creeping up closer and closer behind him, breathing down his neck. A walking dead man— that's what he was. The person currently cradling her, whispering sweet lies and false promises, was just his shell, a ticking time bomb or a lit candle only waiting for its fuse to burn out. That is precisely why he said nothing more as she urged him to go back to sleep once again. Said nothing as she draped the covers over them. Said nothing as the stifling silence threatened to pull him under once again. 

He would not be sleeping tonight, although she did not need to know that.

[scarletttries]

Kendall Roy (Succession) Fluff Alphabet

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's Note: After doing lots of writing over Christmas, and having a few weeks off in a busy January I am now back with a post for all my succession babies and theybies 🥰 So I hope you enjoy some Kendall cuteness, and consider my inbox open for alphabets and requests for Kendall and the other characters I write for! :)

a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

Kendall feels no reservations about showering you with affection in private, draping himself across your lap at every opportunity, singing your praises each second his lips aren't pressed against yours. It's a floodgate opening from years of hidden warmth and humanity, pouring over you in an almost overwhelming force, a test of whether or not you can handle the needs of his heart or if you'll cast him aside like all the rest - but you never would. In public his affection is mostly limited to a firm hand on your lower back as he guides you through a party, and the slight smile that creeps across his face every time you say his name, like you truly know the man behind it.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

In the world of lavish riches that Kendall's used to, beautiful people are everywhere, revered like just another display of opulence. So when he's captivated by the beauty of your mind, body and soul, you know it's anything but shallow. Your selfless spirit would be the first thing he grew to admire, then the warmth with which you treat others, desperate to place himself in the centre of its glow. Every kindness you extend would only have him falling deeper, truly convinced you are the closest thing to an angel he was ever going to meet.

When it comes to Kendall, it's his humour and joy that you find the most captivating. The way he constantly makes you laugh and smile, saying the most ridiculous thing he can think of regardless of who's around to overhear.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

Ken not only likes to cuddle, but absolutely requires it. Your touch grounds him on his worst days like nothing else ever has. Burying himself in your chest as your arms drape over him has Kendall feeling the kind of safety and comfort he didn't quite realise he'd been missing all his life until he found it with you. The only difficult part is getting him off your lap when it's time to do literally anything else, having to practically squirm out of his arms as they chase your outline and try to drag you back against his aching chest.

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

When you first start dating, everything with him is a little bit of a performance. Elaborate dates planned well in advanced, exclusive access to VIP areas, the newest clubs, courtside seats to any game you want. And it's impressive and it's fun and Kendall feels like he's winning you over, like finally all his money and power are getting him something good. Until he realises that when he meets you for a last minute coffee, just sitting for 20 minutes in a crowded café, hurriedly sharing the stories of your day before you each need to head back to work, you both have just as good of a time. Because all that matters is that you're together. So he starts to take it down a notch, lots of movie nights at home, and cuddling up in quiet corners at the back of small bars, drinking cheap beer and laughing together. And he falls even more in love with you, realising that there's not a single experience that isn't special when you're by his side.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Kendall feels like losing and rejection have been important constants in his life, despite his best efforts, so when he realises another good thing he has is about to end, he would face it with a certain quiet acceptance. He feels like the kind of guy who would choose disappearing over a real goodbye, opting for the easier, cowardly way out, rather than confronting the harsh reality that sometimes things don't work out the way we want.

f - fiancée (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

After his first failed marriage it would take a lot for Ken to risk facing all that heartbreak again, but when he realises that he doesn't want to spend his life without you then he'd start to weigh up the option again, maybe begging Rava to meet him for a coffee and help him learn from his past mistakes.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Kendall wants to seem like he's cool and easy-going, like if he gets knocked down he'll be able to get back up again without anyone else's help. But the closer you get, the more he lets you see the real him, and the more you start to realise just how fragile he is. And so you're gentle with him, in both your words and your actions; telling him you're proud of how he's trying his best, softly sweeping your fingers over the nape of his neck when you notice the frown lines creasing his forehead, being a source of calm reassurance in an extraordinary life. Kendall picks up on this, and responds in kind, treating you with the only delicate touch appropriate for the most precious thing in his life.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

It doesn't matter if you've been apart all day, or if you left the room for 30 seconds, Kendall would greet you with a hug either way. As he encircles your waist and clutches you tightly, it almost feels like he's trying to stop you from slipping away, disappearing from his life like all those who showed him kindness before you. His hugs are plentiful, meaningful, and to him an almost sacred act.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

Kendall's instinct when it comes to feeling almost anything, is to numb it, and that applies to pain too. You'd probably find him clutching a bottle, or something stronger, disappointed in himself and feeling he deserved whatever pain he'd ended up in. You'd have to pry his chosen vice carefully from his hand before encompassing him in your loving embrace, reminding him that he needs to let you look after him so that he can keep being there for you. That role in your life is enough to make him crack a smile, which quickly descends into vulnerable sobs as the walls come crashing down.

If you have even the slightlest injury, Kendall is frankly a bit useless. Zero first aid training, or common sense, would have him calling a private ambulance at the slightest sign of discomfort, knowing you are too important to risk anything being wrong.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

Kendall sees green more than he likes to admit, feeling like everyone in every room is just staring at you both and wondering how they can take you away from him. His fear of driving you away would be enough to stop him saying anything when an overly friendly party-goer compliments your outfit for the third time that night. You can feel the tightening grip on your waist as he laughs at your slightly flustered reaction, taking the first appropriate moment to slip away to a quiet corner, dragging Kendall behind you until you are alone enough to steal a kiss, the lingering taste on his lips a reminder that you only have eyes for each other.

k - kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

From the moment you catch him off-guard by wrapping your arms around his neck at the end of your first date, pressing your soft warm lips against his, Kendall has been chasing them every time you pull away. He's absolutely the kind to always ask for one more kiss when you need to leave, and then another one more, until he's dragging you back onto his lap and finding your tongue with his, forcing back a smile that tells you you're going to be late again.

He loves the way it feels to have you trailing kisses down his chest and neck, but if he had his way your lips would never leave his, his hands finding your cheeks, combing through your hair, anything to keep you where he craves you most.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

Kendall loves to show his affection through gifts, having resources that few else in the world could even imagine. And he's an exceptional gift giver, not just choosing something lavish and expensive, but something he knows you'll value and that'll show that he really knows and listens to your wants.

I think when it comes to receiving love, Kendall doesn't really care about receiving gifts, though he would be appreciative of anything you did get him. Tied runner-ups would be Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch, his need for affection and reassurance clear from the outset of your relationship. But the number one way he'd want you to show your love would be Quality Time - just be there for him. Let him be his most authentic and relaxed self, and stay by side, no matter what you're doing. Every hour that he passes in your company just adds to the slowly growing confidence that you really do like him for him, and that this is a life he could have with you.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Kendall lives a life of late nights and difficult mornings, so it might fall to you to get the coffee going of a morning, luring him slowly out of the bed with the promise of your company in the shower if he promises not to make you late for work again (that's the only promise to you he's ever broken.)

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

It feels like when the sun goes down Kendall's day actually starts. Prepare yourself for galas and parties, clubs and galleries, a whole host of events that will dominate your calendar, but knowing how much Ken needs you by his side means you don't begrudge attending a single one. The best part is when it finally becomes a socially acceptable hour to leave, him squeezing your hand twice as a signal to yawn and start saying your goodbyes so the two of you can get back to his sprawling penthouse and curl up together in peace.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

The first few times you meet Kendall, you can tell most of what he does is a front he presents to the world, shielding the scared little boy behind those walls. As you start to get closer, maybe offering him a little sincerity to slip past the initial defences, he begins to reciprocate, ignoring the voice in his head that tells him that anything he reveals will just be used against him. When you don't run at that glimpse of the real Kendall, he's all in, ready to bare his soul to you, needing you to know everything about him like your approval will absolve everything that came before you. And just when you think you've heard it all, be prepared for him to tell you a childhood story with a hollow laugh that'll break your heart all over again.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Kendall's rarely had to wait for anything in his life, so sometimes his patience can fade quicker than he'd like. He might get a little snippy after a long day, feeling like sometimes you just can't understand the pressure he's under, but it doesn't take long before he's apologising and begging you to forgive him for speaking to you that way, knowing the more time you spend having each other's backs, the less Kendall grows frustrated at his situation and himself.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)

There's never a shortage of amazing things planned in your life with Kendall, but when you have the perfect day together it's often just the both of you staying in at his place. Before you came into his life, his penthouse never felt like a pent-home, but that all changes the first time you spend a whole day draped across his couch together, doing 'nothing'. That usually looks like you making a shared playlist and blasting it through his speakers, bass turned all the way up as you show how to make a home-cooked meal. You'll narrate a movie to him while he shows you outrageously expensive shoes he wants to buy and makes you help him pick which colours to order. Finally you end up resting your head on his chest as you both know you should just go to bed, but he can't quite bring himself to let such a perfect day end, knowing he could live with any way his life worked out if he got to spend it with you.

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

It's hard for Kendall to picture your relationship as anything but an ongoing stretch of sheer bliss, but he can't help the smile that flushes his cheeks when he remembers the first time he realised just how completely you could see through his father's falsehoods. It might have because you refused to show any reaction to his caustic comments, the backhanded compliments handled with grace, until finally he had to slink away without driving the wedge between you and Kendall that he had hoped to, your patience and kindness clearly the only superpower that defeat the villain Ken had spent his whole life bullied by.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

There are so many things in his life Kendall wants to protect you from; his siblings, his parents, his work, his reputation, even himself. At first he'd try to compartmentalise your relationship, keeping it away from all the complexities in his life so it could remain safe and unmarred. But you were the first to point out that you wanted to support Kendall in all his life, not just the easy parts, so gradually he had to face the risk of exposing you to everything he was dealing with. He watched as you unflinchingly accepted all of these bizarre characters and turns, turning from someone he wanted to protect, to the person that made him feel safe to be himself. And now when his instincts scream to keep you out of the Roy line of fire, he knows you can handle his life, even better than he ever did without you.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

No matter how much you insist that Kendall's money and connections aren't what matters about him to you, prepare to be absolutely spoiled at every possibility. He's not used to having someone he can worship entirely, and providing offerings to your sacred altar as a token of his faith in your love is the one thing Kendall knows he can do better than anyone.

u - upset (how do they act when you're upset? how do they act when they're upset?)

Kendall's not used to people actually showing it when they're upset, spending his childhood living by the 'stiff-upper-lip' mentality, so when he sees you genuinely and sincerely upset he'd be able to feel his once-guarded heart breaking in two for you. He'd crumble at your side, hovering his hand next to yours, for fear even a tiny touch would damage you further. He'd be at your side in soft silence for as long as it took until you could tell him what was wrong, letting him trace the route of your tears with his thumb as he nervously rattles off a thousand things he could do to try and help with how you're feeling, letting out a shaky sigh of relief when a small smile breaks through your dark clouds at his words.

When Kendall's upset you'd be presented with an empty shell of a man, chasing anything that might just make him feel again. Wrap him in a blanket, hold his head in your lap, run your fingers through his hair, and don't leave his side. Every second you pass being there for him is a second that whatever is on his mind feels a little easier, until finally he's ready to face the world again, as long as you're there with him.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

I think Kendall likes to stay in shape for appearances, but more than caring about looks, Kendall just really enjoys fashion. It's a way he can show off a little part of who he is, the creative mind he rarely gets to put to use. As far as how you look, Kendall's never seen anyone more perfect for him, and he just loves to see you in whatever makes you feel confident and comfortable.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them.)

Kendall puts an inordinate amount of effort to be friends with your friends. He'd pay such close attention whenever you spoke about them, and the first time he joined you on a casual games night or bar crawl it would be one of his favourite nights ever. He's so used to people only being his friend because they want something from him, so being surrounded with people that genuinely want to get to know him, who laugh and share jokes and stories with no ulterior motive, no malice and spite - he'd quickly be rushing to get all their details so he could plan the next time you'd all meet together again. Every birthday party, every night out, every brunch - Kendall's there.

x - x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

He'd always be able to tell when you were hiding something from him, recognising the slightly dishonest look that he was practically raised on - but he'd never know quite what to say to find out what was behind that look. Gradually after a day spent quietly perched by your side, you'd usually take mercy on the downtrodden man and tell him what was on your mind, the secret you'd tried to keep weighing on you much less heavily than having to hide something from your 'Dall.

y - yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

Once Kendall falls for you, his heart is truly and completely yours, and there's not much you could do that he wouldn't find a way to love. That being said, if he ever overheard you getting along with his siblings, he might just feel his stomach turn in unease.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

By the time Kendall gets to bed, he's usually exhausted and ready to completely crash, so more often than not he's pleading with you to help him out of his shirt, and his tired, restless hands try to return the favour, clutching at the folds of fabric that cover your body until he's so tired you wake up the next morning with his hand still desperately clinging to the white shirt that falls from your shoulders.

[primsgirl89]

So I watched Hazbin Hotel and I was enraptured by it all. I thought my favorite character was gonna be Angel Dust, but the single moment Lucifer came on and sang, Goodbess Gracious!

Never before had I thought of any character as a DILF but Lucifer 🤤

Now I as I am apparently known for is giving good ideas for fics, sometimes writing them and then never finishing them. I do have an idea for a LuciferxOFC. I will give it in a moment, but I do want to get something out of the way first. If you would like to take this up but don’t want to exclude me in anyway, I won’t mind doing a role play as my own character with you and use that in your story.

Idea

Lucifer thought all sinners were destructive and distasteful. We know that. So what if on the day of the first episode a girl who was held captive all her life committed a sin? Being forced to do drugs, sex, and anything that didn’t invoke hurting or killing another human.

As much as she was innocent in the way that mattered, not using her freewill to do these acts, the fact is Sera didn’t want her around. Sera believed she had enough free will to stop it all before she allowed the other humans to kill her.

Now sent to Hell, directly in front of the Hotel after the angel raid, the human sat in front of the doors. Angel Dust is the one to open the door to leave for work, when she fell into his legs. Angel took her by her ratty dress and plopped the panicking sinner in front of Charlie.

Charlie having reassured the new sinner she would help her however she could. She even went as far as to name the sinner Apple Ruby.

“Well, what do you like?”

“Ruby red apples…”

“Ooohhh,” a huge excited smile split Charlie’s face, “why don’t we call you Apple Ruby?”

“…Kay…”

From then on, Apple (only Charlie calls her Apple as everyone else calls her Ruby) clings behind Charlie until she followed A cat around the hotel the day Lucifer comes after Charlie asks for help. Usually, she was very attentive to her surroundings, but she got comfortable with everyone who was around the hotel enough to allow her guard to go down. Chasing KeeKee trying to get her glove back from the playful cat, she bumped into the back of Lucifer’s legs with her head.

When he would turn around to look at the smallest sinner he has seen, she began to shake so much in fear of a new male in her space. So frightened she ran to hide behind Charlie, who was still hugging her father. She only came up to Charlie’s shoulder he would notice.

“Awe, I forgot to tell you my father was coming Apple. I’m so sorry.”

“Apple?” -Lucifer

“Oh, she didn’t know her own name when she came to Hell, so we gave her the name Apple Ruby since she loves Ruby red apples.”

“Why is she cowering?”

“I don’t really know..”

Angel Dust would make it known she was terrified of Lucifer since she didn’t know him. “If you wanted to hang around more to get her to not-“

“No. I don’t want Apple feeling like she is being forced to make friends with someone she is terrified with. She isn’t like normal sinners, she is so quiet and meek, refusing to do anything that is considered bad.”

Lucifer would create a sweet red apple from his hands before offering it to the hidden sinner. He would notice he is taller than her by a few inches.“I don’t mind, especially since if I am going to support your dream, then I should try to be around more sinners.”

Over time, Ruby became less terrified of Lucifer. Often asking Charlie everyday if her dad was coming, frustrating her a bit with the repetitive question that she just gave her father’s cell number to the small sinner. The relationship between Ruby and Lucifer grew to the point she was visiting Morningstar Manor to play with the rubber ducks Lucifer had created, as well as play with Lucifer himself.

Lucifer’s depression slowly subsided with Ruby’s presence and quiet nature that he began to feel more like his old self.