#how did you know what my favourite things in the whole wide world are?

[pr1nce-jm]

— different scenarios in which the bangtan boys would act as your fake boyfriend.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — fluff! alcohol mentions, creep!stranger

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧

you’re at a cosy secondhand bookstore, browsing through poetry books when a stranger approaches, way too eager to make conversation. you politely try to redirect them away but they persist; asking personal questions, invading your personal space, and lingering.

uncomfortable was an understatement. you take your phone and are about to fake a phone call when namjoon, who had been reading, steps into the aisle appearing beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“there you are, my love” he says gently, soft eyes falling on you but there was a worry behind them that seemed to reassure you that he knew just how badly you wanted to leave the conversation. he holds up a book, “you left this in the other aisle. you’re always doing that, it’s lucky you’re so cute.”

it’s not yours, but you take it.

he turns to the stranger who was pestering you, “can i help you?”

the stranger mumbles something before quickly exiting. namjoon’s eyes follow them for a beat before he turns to you with a sheepish smile. “sorry if that was too much, but it looked like you need a hand.”

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐣𝐢𝐧 —

you’d accidentally dug yourself a bit of a hole; you had been telling your family that you did in fact have a boyfriend, when you didn’t. and they wanted to meet him at dinner.

jin agreed, sighing like he’d been wronged but there was a slight sparkle in his eye.

the next evening, he plays his role far too well. he’s charming, effortlessly polite and makes your grandma laugh so hard she cries. he even holds your hand under the table just to sell it.

later as he’s walking you home, he looks at you sideways. “you know, i’d make a great boyfriend.”

your breath catches but before you can reply, he flashes you that, wide and ridiculous grin. “don’t fall too hard. i’m expensive.”

𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 —

you’re mid anxiety spiral in toilets of your friends wedding - i can cope being in the same vicinity as my ex, you thought. the sweats and laboured breathing proved you wrong.

yoongi: still want me to crash this wedding?

you hesitated before typing a reply.

yes pls.

twenty minutes later, yoongi walks in like he was always meant to be there. sharply dressed, hands in pockets and a suave aura radiating from him.

he finds you near the dessert table, takes one look at your ex laughing across the room, and wordlessly slides his hand into yours.

for the rest of the night, he plays his part effortlessly. quietly but present. always by your side whenever your ex was around.

later, as you’re dancing with him in a moment of quiet, you whisper, “you’re good at this.”

“i’m just standing here.” he murmurs back.

“no. you’re making it easier.”

and even though he doesn’t say anything, his hand softly squeezes yours.

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 —

what started as a white lie to get a coworker to stop flirting with you, turned into hobi coming to your office one day with a gift bag and a bouquet of flowers just to ensure your coworker knew his place.

well, that’s where you thought it would end.

like clockwork, he would burst through the office doors once a week with a bouquet of your favourite flowers so obnoxiously large it blocks half of his face.

“baby!” he calls out loud enough for the whole office to hear, beaming, “i couldn’t go another second without seeing you!”

your coworkers whip their heads around, some with bemused looks, others in jealous awe. you want the ground to swallow you up - you knew he was only doing this to get a reaction.

“hoseok. what are you —”

“loving you.” he batted his eyelashes, planting the flowers on your desk. “you’re the light of my life, my world, my muse, my everything.”

“oh. my. god.”

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧 —

it wasn’t until it was too late and you realised you wouldn’t get a refund, that you noticed you had signed up for a couples dance class. jimin, who initially laughed at your lack of reading comprehension, casually offered to go with you.

now, under the lights of a cosy dance studio, he’s spinning you like you’re the only two people in the room. and worst of all, he’s really good at this.

you teeter on your feet and almost slip before he places his hand on the small of your back and smirks. “don’t worry, babe, i got you.” a playful glimmer swimming in his eyes.

after class, as you walk out into the night, he bumps his shoulder into yours. “so, same time next week, babe?”

“you know this isn’t real, right?”

he hums. a little too smug. “‘maybe. but it could be.”

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 —

a local art gallery is hosting a valentines exhibition; free entry for couples, full price for everyone else. unfortunately, you were attending by yourself. you stood at the ticket booth, debating whether the exhibition really was worth the money. as you begin to fumble with your bag, you feel a casual arm drape over your shoulder.

“sorry to keep you waiting, babe.” a low voice murmurs near your ear.

startled, you turn your head to find a man stood beside you, his expression calm but a glint in his eyes betrays his amusement. a smile tugs at your lips. you turn back to the attendant who doesn’t blink twice before handing you both free tickets.

“they’ve already let us in you don’t need to keep your arm over my shoulder —” you hum quietly.

“shh — just play along. we don’t want them to kick us out.” he smiled back with a hushed voice. “if i’m going to be your boyfriend, i should know your name. i’m taehyung.”

𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 —

you’d signed up for a trivia night at the local bar purely on the premise of hoping to win the grand prize. only to realise a few days before that it was in fact a couples quiz night and you quickly needed to find a partner in crime.

so you immediately texted the most competitive person you knew.

all jungkook had to do was simply just attend with you. but he went the extra mile. you’d get a question right and he’d exclaim, “that’s my baby! my gorgeous angel is so smart.” his grin displaying more than simple happiness, he was revelling in knowing he was embarrassing you.

you put aside the embarrassment due to the fact he was buying your drinks all evening and the longing looks he was giving you when you weren’t looking seemed a little too real and you could feel butterflies in your stomach.

[foolinafable]

your wildest dream, his nightmare

Five Hargreeves x Reader Synopsis: Walking into Max’s diner as a respite after you and Five are seemingly stuck you don’t think you could’ve imagined a better outcome surrounded by various versions of your lover. At the same time, for him it’s nothing more than a bad dream he hopes will end soon. Word count: 760 Tags: Fluff, Jealous Five, Crackfic Note: This small fic because it's funny to imagine jealous Five being jealous of himself

“Come on”

Five grabbed your hand as he led you out of the tube to, probably, another timeline. It must have been a few hours the two of you had been stuck in this place going station to station still with no idea how to get back. 

You turned left but instead of being greeted with the usual blankness for Five to scribble about in his notebook you instead were somewhat blinded by the light of a sign.

‘Max’s delicatessen.’ You made eye contact with Five to the side of you before tilting your head with a nod towards the building. He simply followed your lead before quickly grabbing the door to let you in first. 

You turned back to smile in thanks when you noticed his shocked expression, head quickly turned back towards the diner at a call of your name to see the whole diner was made up of your lover. Looking back to Five, your Five, in bewilderment a shocked smile on your face.

The look on your face seemed to take him out of his stupor clearing his throat before leading you into the diner- trying to find an empty table for you to sit at. He was quickly stopped by another Five, one sat on his own, and gestured for the two of you to sit opposite him. Five begrudgingly agreed as he realised the restaurant was at max capacity. No spare table in sight.

You quickly shuffled onto the brown bench when the other Five spoke 

“It’s rare to see one of you around here” he smiled happy to see you

“Maybe this is not my typical scene” you rebutted a cheeky smile on your face that the Five opposite you seemed to enjoy, dimple now showing from smiling so wide

“Maybe” he breathed out in a laugh 

Before you could continue to speak with this version of Five another one appeared in front of you, this one not wearing a suit or vest. He quickly placed down a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich in front of your Five. He then turned to you placing a very familiar drink in front of you

“Your favourite” he declared when you looked confused  

“How did you know?” You smiled at him eyebrows furrowing as his cheeks went red

“We all know your favourites” he shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world

“Um- Thanks” you nodded your head in gratitude 

“Anything for the missus” he mumbled before leaving to go back to the kitchen 

You took a sip of your drink when your Five spoke irritated “What was that about?” a hand possessively stroking at your thigh 

“A lot of us having seen our version of her in a long time” the other Five spoke wistfully   

“How sad�� you stated before turning around in your seat you waved and greeted the Fives around you who all became quite delighted at your attention all greeting you with a similar bravado.

“Okay.” Five declared “I think we are done here” he quickly at up pulling you up with him by grabbing hold of your hand once more 

“But we just got here, can’t we stay a little longer and rest?” you asked not wanting to leave. I mean why would you, surrounded by multiple versions of the man who loved you, say no to having his attention on you?

“No, we need to get back to my family in our timeline, come on. We are wasting time.” he rebutted practically pulling you away from the diner seemingly getting even more annoyed as the other Fives shouted goodbyes towards you.

“I didn’t realise I was so annoying, that was a nightmare” Five claimed as you sat on a train hopefully taking you back home

“Sure you weren’t jealous?” you quipped staring at him mischievously

“No” he grumbled arms crossing against his chest

“Then you won’t mind if I-” you spoke moving towards the doors to go back to the diner, quickly shutting up when Five grabbed your hands pulling you back onto the seat beside him. You simply smiled at his look of false ire towards you as the train started to move. Resting your head on his shoulder as he let a smile grace his features giving a kiss to the top of your head.

You hope that at some point you will get to return to the diner- a place you have just coined akin to heaven on earth.               

[mashtatosworld]

calm in the chaos

summary: you give birth to your first baby

You should have known when Jiyong walked into the room with a beret perched on his head and a set of fine paintbrushes in the other, that today was not going to go as planned.

You had thought you were going to start painting the nursery.

You had been excited, even, having selected a range of pink shades together weeks ago. You’d imagined the two of you working side by side, getting messy with paint, making this space a home for your little girl.

But instead, you found yourself sitting on the nursery floor, your maternity dress rolled up over your stomach, as your husband carefully dragged a paintbrush across your swollen belly.

You sighed, watching him dip the brush into a soft pastel colour before sweeping it over your skin. "Ji, why are we doing this again?"

He didn’t even look up, his lips pursed in deep concentration. “She gives me inspiration.”

You arched a brow. "She?"

“Our baby,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I’m waiting for her to tell me how she wants the room painted."

You blinked. "You don’t know what colour you want the nursery to be?"

He had a vision board, a Pinterest board and even hired interior designers to help plan the nursery. But in the end, the two of you went to the store and picked out your favourite swatches of pregnancy safe paint - of which he was now painting on your stomach.

“I thought I did," he admitted, sticking a tiny flower to your belly, right where he had just painted. "But then I realised, I should wait for her input."

You stared at him, bewildered. "She’s going to decide?"

He nodded sagely. "Of course."

You sighed again, shaking your head. "And how exactly is she going to do that?"

At that exact moment, a small but firm kick pressed against your stomach, right where he had been painting.

Jiyong grinned, eyes wide with excitement. "Ahhh, see? She’s choosing!"

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Or maybe she’s just done with you poking her all the time.”

He ignored your teasing, his expression turning softer, more thoughtful. He ran a hand gently over your stomach, his wedding ring cold against your skin as it grazed the painted surface.

"I feel so connected to her already," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your belly. "I think she’s going to share my artistic vision but have your beauty." His eyes flicked up to you, filled with so much love it made your breath catch. "She’s so lucky."

Your heart melted, and you reached out to touch him, feeling closer than ever. "We’re the lucky ones, Ji."

He smiled, rubbing a hand over your belly again before picking up another flower petal and sticking it carefully to your skin.

After a few more strokes of paint and some deep, artistic pondering on Jiyong’s end, you finally asked, "So… now that she’s chosen the colour, can we start painting the nursery?"

Jiyong froze, slowly pursing his lips. His expression instantly shifted from serene to guilty.

You narrowed your eyes. "Jiyong."

He cleared his throat. "Well… we could… but, you know, it's a lot of labour, and - "

"Ji."

"And you're pregnant, and I just - ”

"Ji."

"I don’t want you moving around too much!" he finally blurted, eyes pleading. "It’s not safe!"

You stared at him, incredulous. "That’s why you’ve been delaying? Because you don’t want me painting?"

He nodded quickly. “I mean, you are involved! You’re growing our princess!”

You threw your hands in the air. "Jiyong, come on. I want to help. I’m not going to break!"

He hesitated, clearly torn between his need to protect you and his desire to make you happy. After a long pause, he finally sighed in defeat.

“Fine.”

"Thank you."

"But only sticking flowers to the wall," he warned. "No climbing ladders. No stretching. No actual painting. Just decorating."

You rolled your eyes but took what you could get. "Deal."

He'd been like that your whole pregnancy.

You weren’t allowed to carry anything. Not a grocery bag, not the laundry, not even your own shoes if he was feeling particularly protective. The man had damn near wrestled a glass out of your hand once, insisting it was too full and too heavy - until you nearly bit his head off.

After that, he reluctantly allowed you to lift a drink or your phone. But everything else?

Off limits.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

An hour later, the nursery was transformed.

The walls were coated in the perfect shade of soft pink, the door dotted with tiny, delicate flowers. Jiyong had even painted a subtle mural on one wall - gentle brushstrokes forming a dreamy, almost ethereal heart. It was beautiful.

You both stood in the centre of the room, looking around in awe.

It suddenly felt real.

This wasn’t just a room anymore. This was your baby’s room. The space where you would rock her to sleep, where she would wake up every morning, where she would play and grow.

Jiyong took your hand in his, his grip warm and steady. He gave you a small, almost disbelieving smile. “This is really happening, huh?”

You squeezed his fingers. “Yeah.”

Briefly, you were pulled back to when you first met him. At the time, you'd been too afraid to even look him in the eyes. And yet now you would touch your stomach and wonder if your baby would have those same, curious eyes...

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

You closed your eyes, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

The three of you - already a family.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You should have known.

You should have known when Jiyong didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol all night - not even during Youngbae’s toast.

You should have known when he stayed practically glued to your side all night, his hand permanently resting on your belly like some kind of monitor.

And you should have known when he kept looking at you with that knowing little smirk every time you shifted uncomfortably.

But you?

You were in denial.

Sure, there had been some cramping earlier that day, but that was normal at nine months pregnant. It was not the start of labour.

No way. Not tonight, of all nights. Not when you were supposed to be enjoying Youngbae’s big concert, surrounded by your closest friends.

So, you pushed through.

You swayed lightly in the VIP section, singing along with Hyorin. And you breathed through the discomfort when Jiyong leaned in, murmuring sweet nothings against your temple.

And then the concert ended.

You were all backstage, congratulating Youngbae, when a sharp pain rippled through your stomach. Your hand immediately shot out, grabbing the nearest thing - which happened to be Jiyong’s forearm.

You squeezed, fingers digging in.

Jiyong didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he sighed, tilting his head with that same knowing smirk. "Right, jagi - your contractions are within five minutes. It’s time to go to meet our baby."

Silence.

Then -

“WAIT, WHAT?!”

Every single person in the room turned to stare.

Youngbae, still towelling off his sweat, froze. Hyorin’s jaw dropped. Daesung, mid-sip of water, choked violently.

"Is this really happening?!"

"How could I have not noticed?"

"I'm going to be an uncle again?"

Jiyong rolled his eyes. "Yes, ok, she's in labour. Time to go. Let’s move."

"Yah!" Hyorin smacked your arm. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You can't smack a pregnant person!" Daesung jumped in, standing in front of you like a personal bodyguard.

You tried to protest, but another contraction hit, and all that came out was a pained groan.

"What are we waiting for!" Youngbae ushered, grabbing his wife as Daesung threw on his jacket.

"This isn't an afterparty." You muttered, shuffling out of the room with Jiyong at your side as the others followed closely behind.

"We were there when you met, we'll be there for this too."

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The car ride was complete chaos.

You were wedged in the back between Hyorin and Daesung, who were gripping your hands like they was the ones about to give birth.

Youngbae was in the passenger seat, throwing out directions that he believed was the fastest way to the hospital.

"Take a left here! Hyung! Hyung! You missed the turning," He instructed Jiyong, his maps up on his phone. "Go right here! No! Jiyong!"

Your husband ignored his frantic shouting as he continued straight ahead. "I know the way." He'd been studying every route to the hospital since you entered your third trimester.

Daesung, squished in the back, was losing his mind. “Drive faster! Why are we not driving faster?! This is an emergency! Run the light!”

Jiyong stayed silent.

Completely calm. Not panicked. Not frantic. Not hovering.

He just gripped the wheel, eyes steady, jaw set. Cool. Collected.

Which only made it worse because nobody expected this.

“Why is he so quiet?!” Daesung hissed from the back.

"Maybe he's in shock!" Hyorin whispered back. "Youngbae fainted when I had our son."

"Hey... I was tired and simply closed my eyes," Youngbae muttered in return. He then looked to his bandmate with wide eyes. "You're not going to faint right? Tell me and I'll grab the wheel."

Jiyong rolled his eyes. “I’m perfectly fine.”

"That makes it weirder, Jiyong!” Daesung exclaimed.

You let out a strangled groan as another contraction hit, gripping Hyorin’s fingers like a vice.

Jiyong found your eyes in the mirror. His voice was calm when he spoke.

"Breathe, jagi," he murmured. "We’re almost there."

Everyone else was in full-blown meltdown mode, and yet he was here, anchored, pulling you back down to earth.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

By the time you got to the hospital, Jiyong immediately sprang into action.

The moment the car stopped, he was out, grabbing the hospital bag from the trunk - which he had secretly packed without your knowledge.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group spilled out of the car like a panicked clown parade.

"Move, move, move!” Youngbae yelled like it was a military drill.

Jiyong opened the door for you, helping you out carefully, and wrapped an arm around your waist as he guided you inside. The others trailed behind, all talking at once -

"We’re here for the birth!”

"She’s having the baby right now!”

"We need a wheelchair!"

"I can still walk Daesung.” You declined even when he nearly tripped you up, trailing closely behind at your heels.

Jiyong ignored all of them. He was only focused on you.

Hyorin was on the phone with your mother, giving her updates in hushed tones. Youngbae was already calling Jiyong’s mom. Daesung, pulled out his own phone, not one to be left out.

"I'm calling Seunghyun," He muttered.

Another contraction hit. You clenched your jaw, voice shaking. "Ji... I’m scared."

And just like that, his entire demeanour softened.

He turned to you, his hands framing your face as he rested his forehead against yours.

"I know, baby," he whispered. "But you’re going to be okay. I’m right here."

And somehow, that was enough.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The moment you were wheeled into the delivery room, the chaos of your friends faded.

It was just you and Jiyong now.

He never let go of your hand.

Not once.

Through every contraction, every moment of pain, he was there. Whispering reassurances. Kissing your knuckles. Smoothing your hair.

"You’re doing so well, jagi."

"Just a little more, my baby."

"I’m right here."

And when your daughter finally entered the world - when her tiny cries filled the room - Jiyong let out the softest, most broken breath.

The doctor placed her in your arms, and Jiyong just stared.

He looked at you, his eyes wet, his lips trembling. "She's here," he whispered. "You did it."

You nodded weakly, exhausted beyond words.

And Jiyong - your calm in the chaos - just broke.

Tears streamed down his face as he cupped your daughter’s tiny head, his hands shaking. "She's perfect," he whispered.

You smiled sleepily, watching the love in his eyes as he gazed at your little girl - the masterpiece he had been waiting for.

The one he'd been waiting for his whole life.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

a throwback to the birth of baby diva! i thought i should post this before Angel arrives - which is not long now!

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford , @breakmeoff , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby , @ricecake9999 , @fleabagspurplewife

[temis-de-leon]

When they don't know you as well as they thought they did

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

C/W: the boys are crushing on MC and it's implied MC is crushing as well, but there isn't any established relationship. Just friends feeling things for their friend, very common. Self-insert, perhaps?

A/N: this is just fluff, very silly, a little ooc maybe, but I'm not sure. I just wanted to make something fun and lighthearted after the recent news.

.

No one is surprised anymore at the firmness the brothers speak with when they call you part of the family. Between the pacts and the unsolicited free therapy, it’s only fair, and only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see the affection running through the House of Lamentation.

Still, there are instances every once in a while where, although it’s difficult at the beginning, the boys have no other choice but to accept the fact that you have a completely different life back in the human world and they may not know you as good as they would like.

It starts with the small things; embarrassing conversations where their ignorance gets you to laugh like a maniac more than a couple of times. There they are, blushing in self-consciousness while you cackle uncontrollably because they believed some urban legend about a faceless suited man with freakishly long arms.

Then, slowly, but surely, it turns into more personal things about you, like your irrational, downright, phobia of lizards or the fictional characters you’re surprisingly attracted to.

(Some of those aren’t human, which makes them all feel a strong sense of hope, but you don’t need to know that).

The brothers learn about your studies, favourite subjects and what you’d like to do with your future, even if it sounds hopeless or unlikely. They also keep every bit of information about your friends and family; little comments that you let go here and there and help them understand why you are someone they love so much.

The whole situation evolves in such a way that inviting them to your birthday party in the human realm seems to be the obvious next step.

‘It’s so I can celebrate it with all my loved ones’ you say, and they really can’t deny your offer after that.

So, after a few awkward introductions and half-truths about their origin, everyone is happily talking to each other and eagerly waiting for their turn to be with you.

.

Lucifer, who has had a special interest in your family for a while, finds himself chuckling in understanding when your mother complains about the occasional mess in your room. In your defence, he feels obligated to partially throw his brothers under the bus and blame them for keeping you in a constant state of disarray, but then she says something that… perplexes him.

You don’t like perfection? His eyes open wide at the revelation and your mother chuckles, misinterpreting his expression. She doesn’t know who he really is or what he represents, after all.

Just how vast is the veracity of that statement? Does it refer only to a state of mind or do you apply it to everything else?

Thankfully, he doesn’t have time to feel too anxious before he remembers the little details. When your triumphal smile shone in the dimness of his room that time he made a silly mistake in chess, ultimately granting you the win; or when the Anti-Lucifer League managed to leave his hair unkempt for an entire day, which got you to shamelessly look at him for longer than any of his younger brothers would’ve ever liked.

Not being perfect isn’t something he would ever do consciously and he had always found solace in the fact that you like him despite his mistakes. However, knowing you actually like him because of those mistakes? Perhaps letting those cracks show in his façade isn’t so bad as long as it is for you.

.

Not far from him, Mammon chats with your human best friend. There’s an air of competitiveness between them, both wanting to be the ultimate best friend, but it all stays light-hearted. There’s no real threat when Mammon gets to be your first demon, you know? It’s a unique position!

But he still makes sure to assert dominance by stating he would’ve made the perfect party for you, better than the one you’re currently enjoying; with food and decorations from the Devildom and the Celestial realm included, matching outfits and, of course, keeping everything hidden so you can have the best surprise of your life. He had thrown a lot of those with Asmo’s help back home, so he knows you love them!

Or he thinks you do, at least.

Your friend sniggers harmlessly when they hear that last part, pointing at him with an infuriating smartass attitude, and immediately shatters Mammon’s reality.

What the heck do they mean, you don’t like surprise parties? He’d done a lot of those back at the Devildom and you’d never complained, appreciative as you are, even helping him do the same for other’s birthday parties!

Sure, you had always looked dumbfounded by the loud cheering and the confetti after stepping through the door, but that was part of the fun… right? You would tell him if you wanted him to stop, wouldn’t you?

He feels a pang in his heart when the idea of you being uncomfortable for his sake appears in his mind, but it doesn’t make sense. While you undeniably treat him better than anyone else in all of the realms, you still correct him when you see fit and him making you unhappy on your own birthday would be one of those occasions.

He trusts you to confide in him when things are wrong just as much as you trust him to do his best. That’s what friends are for, after all.

.

And where else would Levi be if not hidden in a corner playing with his DDD?

He had tried mingling with people at the party, or at least tried hanging around them, he swears, but conversations became repetitive and boring and then he received a notification for a daily reward from one of his apps, so, of course, he had to sit down to collect it. Then minutes passed as he completed minigames to power up his cards and… you get the idea.

So when a friend of yours walked towards him, complimenting the pins and badges on his bag and the faint music coming out of his headphones, sure, the evening started going way smoother.

He talks enthusiastically, just like any other time his interests are mentioned, wildly gesturing with his hands and letting the little bubble around them be full of their eager exchange. However, a casual lament from his companion stops him right in his tracks.

It’s a shame you don’t like anime…? His first reaction is to laugh, enumerating everything you’d watched, and later commented on, with him under a blanket in the tranquillity of his room, but the utter surprise in your friend’s face leaves him speechless.

You really don’t like it? But… But he’s made you see so many things! Did you like any of them? Did you lie to his face when you said you enjoyed them? He would’ve never chosen a best friend like that; you were not like that and he refused to believe the contrary.

Also, would a liar buy merch on their own like you did? Would they watch the best episodes again or listen to the soundtrack on repeat when they had a bad day? This new revelation only makes him aware he was the one to change your perspective of the fine arts and he’s damn proud of that.

You are still getting an earful when you get back home, though.

.

Satan thinks the kid is a young cousin of yours, but he really hasn’t been paying attention to anything in a long while. How could he, when the enthusiastic toddler had taken their mother’s phone just to show him the family cat’s pictures and videos?

A Mackerel tabby cat, too chubby for his own good but not enough to be actually concerning; playing with feathers, blinking slowly, bumping his head against legs and shoulders, meowing sweetly and, basically, opening his heart in half and making it roam inside his chest like a butterfly.

What a good party.

He mentions all the stray cats behind his house, obviously leaving behind the name of the House of Lamentation and the Devildom, and all the times you’ve gone with him to feed them and play. Satan even shows pictures on his DDD and stops with an adoring expression when you appear on the screen, sitting on your toes with a kitty on your knees and smiling past the camera, straight at Satan.

However, what he hears next takes the air right out of his lungs. He sits down and clutches his pearls and the kid stares at him in anxious confusion, clearly witnessing but not understanding the severity of his distress.

Who, in their right mind, doesn’t like cats?

He remembers the first few times you had accompanied him to his route, intimidated and slightly lingering behind. Initially, he had assumed it was due to the novelty of your friendship or a possible fear of Devildom fauna, but nothing against cats!

Were you afraid of them or just plain uninterested? Why keep going with him if you weren’t as fond of them as he thought you were? Wouldn’t it be because of him, would it?

A warm feeling covers him like a blanket, makes him search for you with his eyes and then immediately blush when you excitedly wave at him, point at the kid and mouth ‘Cute cat!’

Yeah. Very cute.

.

On the other hand, Asmo hangs out with the people responsible for the decorations of the party and compliments them on their work. The colours are well-coordinated, there’s nothing out of place and the distribution was thought with all the guests in mind.

Although he hasn’t been able to help in that regard, he’s made sure you would be the centre of attention that evening; a complicated feature coming from him, but he had never minded sharing the main spot just as long as you were the one by his side; and everyone knows that.

You look cute and pretty and hot in your outfit, a style that both compliments and pleases you. You also worked together in your makeup for hours before getting to the party.

However, taking that much time might have been due to scrolling through social media and gossiping so much, but never mind that. Everyone agrees you look incredible and that is more than enough for him.

It isn’t until one of your friends mentions how weird it is to see you wearing makeup that he dares take his eyes away from you to stare at them in disbelief.

He would’ve never guessed that given that one of your favourite pastimes together is makeup as a whole: going shopping, watching tutorials, following trends, doing your own next to each other, doing each other’s… And, even if he wants to use it, his charming power is useless against you, so he knows you do your makeup because you want to and not because you feel forced by him.

Whether it’s something you share because you enjoy it or something you enjoy because you share it with him, he isn’t sure, but he can swear on his precious damned soul that makeup isn’t a need for you.

It’s just a bonus to your beauty.

.

Sitting at one of the tables, Beel is simultaneously talking to your older sibling while gulping down an entire plate of bite-sized snacks; thankfully, whatever apprehension anyone felt at his hunger died hours ago and now the conversation flowed more naturally, mainly centred around you.

As much as he loves having you near him and his brothers in the House of Lamentation and thinking of you as another member of the family, he is very interested in knowing how your human family is, especially your siblings. It’s another way of relating to you and making him feel closer.

Plus, he gets to know stories from your childhood you may never tell him on your own; anecdotes that will stay at the table he is currently sharing with your sibling.

Unfortunately, they reach a point where, although he wants to keep asking questions about you, doing so with a mouth full of food might end up with Lucifer’s scolding of the year. Also, he really wants to make a good impression.

So your sibling begins asking the questions. Surprisingly, they start with his tattoo; dark red curling around his muscles and almost going unnoticed under the colours of dusk. Beel smiles without giving it any importance because it really doesn’t have it, but forces himself to stop gulping down food when your sibling throws a fun fact about you.

You find tattoos attractive?

He feels an instant burning on his cheeks followed by the rapid beating of his heart and a knot in his stomach, but there’s also a faint unpleasant sour taste in his mouth.

You’ve never asked him about his tattoo, barely sparing a glance at it when you worked out together or he took off his jacket.

He wonders if you don’t like it or if you think it doesn’t look good on him because all he can remember is the focused look in your eyes while looking at his and the curve of your smile growing bigger as you listen to whatever he says, even when it is entirely about food, and…

You know what? He doesn’t really mind. He is fine with things as they are.

.

As both a friend of yours and a fellow younger brother, Belphie respects your sibling’s decision to spill your darkest secrets and thoroughly enjoys the air of comradery between them.

Don’t worry, he won’t let it go past actual serious matters; if you want him to know any of that, he’d rather have you telling him yourself when you’re ready and not get betrayed by your sibling. Silly and harmless pieces of information, however? Those are more than welcome.

And he already has a favourite.

You need to hug plushies to sleep? Tell him more. He doesn’t judge you for feeling the need to hug toys or pillows while sleeping. Actually, he understands.

Do you have a favourite? Is it in the human realm or is it in your room back at the House of Lamentation? While he can recall seeing that ugly zombie iguana on your bed, he’s never seen you cuddling it while sleeping and, other than that, he doesn’t remember seeing one, so he wonders if you hide it somewhere when you know he’s going to your room; but what about those times he enters uninvited?

Does that mean you left your preferred plushie in your room in the human realm? Does that mean that you don’t actually need to hug anything to sleep?

Whenever you share a bed, which is pretty frequent, Belphie can sense an invisible barrier between you that he’s dying to break. It’s nothing physical, given that only he knows how truly comfortable your lap and your chest are, but it’s obvious in the way your hands hesitate to bring him closer.

Shy and indecisive, while you don’t reject his advances, he’s still unsure what your feelings on the matter are. He’d initially thought you weren’t used to having anything so close to you while sleeping, but… now… Maybe he has to assure you that you can hug him as hard as you want.

Belphie is just as good as any plushie, after all; if not better.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[tttabii]

— 심재윤 DEDICATION FOR YOU

JAKE SIM X READER

note: where he has his own instagram. fan!reader x idol! jake. word count : 2363.

YOU WEREN'T NEW TO FANSIGNS.  Living a short subway ride away from the venue made it simpler, but this time somehow felt... different. Maybe it was the white dress you got, simple, flowy, not revealing but just revealing enough to feel a little self-conscious.

Maybe it was the seven hand-made hoodies in your tote bag, customized for each Enhypen member based on every subtle detail you'd picked up over the years. Or, more likely, it was because you were going to see Jake. Again. Your day one bias.

As the line shuffled, your heart raced. And finally, it was your turn.

You took a step and walked up to Jake's table. You gave him the most genuine smile you could muster with how shaky your nerves were at this point. He quickly scanned you—respectfully, but still noticeably—and glanced over you again, his expression softening the second time. 

"Hi," he said in that low, friendly voice. "What's your name?"

"Y/n," you replied as you did a small bow. "I... have been a fan since debut. You've been my bias since day one."  

Jake's eyes lit up. "Really?" he asked, and you nodded shyly, placing your favorite album in front of him. "This means a lot. Thank you."

As he twisted the cap off the marker, you swallowed a little courage. "Um... Can you sign somewhere else instead?"

He titled his head to one side, looking confused. "Where?"

You reached your arm out a little. "Here."

Jake blinked. "Wait—your arm?"

You nodded. "I want to get it tattooed," you confessed, feeling your cheeks turn hot. "It means a lot to me."

Jake froze, surprised—eyes wide with astonishment, and then softened to something between admiration and awe. "That's... wow. That's real commitment," he said softly. Jake carefully made his way to your arm, always moving at a careful speed. "You're really going to tattoo this?"

"I am," you whispered.Suddenly, there was a blast of wind that rushed through the venue. Hair flew everywhere and stuck to your lip gloss. You cringed, trying to tidy up, embarrassed to look like a mess in front of him.

Jake chuckled a little. "Hey, hey—here." Jake reached for your hair and pushed it behind your ear, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His eyes were focused and kind. You felt like you couldn't breathe for a moment. Somewhere in the crowd your friend tried took a picture with shaking hands. Other fans nearby gasped quietly, a few squeals erupting.

You were flustered beyond compare, but Jake? He was composed. Calm even. As if this moment involved the two of you."There's," he said, smiling, "Much better."

Your time was almost up. You handed him the bag with the hoodies."I made these... for all of you. Custom. I paid attention to your styles."

Jake looked at the bag, then back at you, you could tell he was quite stunned. "You made them?"

You nodded. "Hope you like them."

"Y/n," he said, repeating your name softly like he didn't want to forget. "You're amazing."

You left the table on a cloud, the signed arm, the warmth of his fingers just barely grazing your hair, and how he said your name, played over in your mind like a favourite episode of a drama.

That evening, the fan photos began popping up.Your interaction was everywhere.

That same night, you sat on your bed in a cross-legged position, focused on your phone, and suddenly you saw a notification for Weverse Live. You didn't even have time to blink before you opened the app.

Jake was live. Wearing your hoodie.The same one you stitched yourself and designed to have (incidentally) his name just barely stitched in like a real hoodie would have it. The cozy, oversized, shade of a navy blue you picked just for him, knowing he once said dark blue was soothing.

And now, it was on him. On live. You could not stop smiling.You recorded the whole thing on screen record, took too many screenshots and even posted your favorite one on your small account on Instagram.

@yn__archive 🧵: i made the hoodie for all the members and they wore it 😭😭 im crying real tears  #enhypen #jakesim #fanmade

Within the hour you were flooded with comments.

"GIRL YOU WON IN LIFE"

"how does it feel to be God's favorite??"

"He literally looks like a boyfriend wearing his girl's hoodie"

"Petition for Jake to @ you himself"

"Drop the tutorial PLS"

You grinned, but had no idea that far away, Jake—the Jake—was also scrolling through Instagram.

On his personal account.

He had been curious ever since you gave him and the others the hoodie you made. 

And then he found it.

Your account.

He tapped your username, and there you were: a fan account curated to perfection, packed with little edits, photos, café visits, outfit shots, and the day you were all at the fansign. He swiped through a few, smiling to himself about how warm and sincere your big love for Enhypen seemed. Then he froze.

There it was, a photo from when you went to the café for his birthday last year. You were standing in front of a giant Jake banner, holding his photocard next to your face, smiling.

Your fitted off-shoulder top showed a little bit of cleavage, your skirt was pleated and barely hit mid-thigh, and you sat with your legs crossed elegantly.

You looked so pretty. So confident. So playful. Jake felt frozen. "Woah..." he said to himself.

He couldn't tell what he was drawn to first—your face, your outfit, or the way you held his photocard like it was the most precious thing. He double-tapped without thinking. Once he realized what he'd just done, he panicked—unliked. Then he hesitated and did something impulsive.

He shared your post from earlier. The one of him wearing your hoodie.

@jake.sim [Shared post from @yn__archive] "Thank you. This is so amazing. We loved them 🧵💙" 

Fans went wild.

You stared at your screen in shock. Jake had just shared your post. Your DMs flooded. Your notifications blew up. Your follower count doubled in minutes.

Some fans were excited, others playful:

"Girl he knows you exist now."

"If you don't marry him, I will."

"He SCROLLED through your page. He saw everything."

Including that birthday café post.

And yet... he still shared your post.

You swallowed hard, heart racing.

Somewhere across the city, Jake sat back in his chair, still on your profile. Yeah. He remembered your name now. And he definitely wasn't forgetting your face.

Times goes by fast, and somehow concert season was already upon us again. ENHYPEN's new Dark Blood era had you feral—the songs, the choreography, the visuals—and Jake's new blonde hair? Absolutely lethal.

So naturally, you dyed your own hair too. Soft blonde, not too bold but enough to be noticed.

Maybe it was dramatic. Maybe it wasn't.

But you didn't care. You were finally seeing them again.

Front row. VIP. With your best friend. And you were going to look hot. You went all out: black mesh sleeves, leather mini skirt, silver accessories, a little glitter by your eyes.

Your tattoo—the one with Jakes's signature—was peeking out of your sleeve on purpose. Your heart was beating out of your chest as the lights dimmed and screams rang out.

They were on. You basically lost your voice in the first 10 minutes. But then it happened. He saw you. Jake zoomed in on you like a 2-for-1 special the second he spotted the blonde. His eyes went wide for a split second, his mouth twitching at the corners like he was trying not to smile too big.  

Your fingers had already started to shake as you reached for your phone, even before you forming a heart with your fingers. Jake jogged over—while still singing—his mic still hot as he sang, quickly forming his hand into the other half of the heart with you. His hand brushed against yours as he held it for a second, and your heart just stopped when he lingered a second longer than necessary.

Then, in the most unbelievable moment in the world, he reached for your phone with one hand, and softly held your fingers with his other, and took two selfies.

One with a cute wink. One with a cute smirk. One with a cute peace sign. One cute smiling face where he smiled right into your soul. He handed it back to you with the most soft expression on his face, like he recognized you.

Like he knew who you were. Then he gently squeezed your fingers before continuing down the stage and interacting with other fans.

You were breathless, phone clutched to your chest as if it was a holy relic. Your ears were definitely pink.

Burning, actually. Jake saw.

Jake totally noticed.

Especially the peek of black ink curving around your upper arm—his signature. The one you got tattooed after the fansign.

He stuttered for just a second. Tripped slightly in his step. Luckily, he masked it by falling right into the next beat of choreography like a pro.

But his ears were red too now.

He was still thinking about you as the song ended. And he kept looking back throughout his performance, he was doing his best to not stare at you. That night, you posted one of the selfies on your fan account, with just three words:

 @yn__archive "He saw me." [photo: Jake and you, fingers making a heart, matching blonde hair, glowing under the stage lights]

Your comment section went off.

"NOOOO THIS IS A FANFIC IRL"

"THE HAIR MATCHING?? THE TATTOOS?? THE EYE CONTACT???"

"HE'S DOWN BAD MA'AM."

"I know he looked back. I saw it. We all saw it."

And back stage, Jake was still there. Still trying to breathe. Still replaying that second.

And when he was going through his tagged posts later... 

He smiled when he saw your post. Hearted it from his private account. Saved the selfie too. He wasn't going to let you be a fan anymore. 

The concert felt like a fever dream, not just because Jake had held your hand mid-song, or that he took selfies on your phone, but also because it wasn't just you who saw all of that.

By the time you and your best friend got outside of the venue, Twitter, TikTok, and fan accounts were already blowing up.

Someone had captured video footage of you squealing and bouncing with excitement talking to your friend after Jake's interaction with you.

You were gushing like an actual middle-schooler, "Did you see him? He smiled at me! I swear, he smiled at me like he knew me!"

You were laughing until your friend was fanning and waving you down like you were overheating.

What you had not anticipated too was the way the camera slowly panned, right to Jake on stage. Looking directly at you. The expression on his face was unreadable, jaw tight.

His eyes? Tracking every detail of you, from your dyed hair, to the fit of your outfit, and, yeah, the way your top sat too perfectly on you. He lingered for a moment before quickly turning away, but maybe a little too quick... like he just got caught.  

The fans were ruthless.

"Is no one gonna talk about the way Jake was LITERALLY checking her out while she was fangirling over HIM???"

"I SAW WHERE HIS EYES WENT. JAKE. BE SERIOUS."

"That boy is fighting for his life."

"I understand  you Jake, I would fold if I had a girl like that as my fan." 

You watched the video about seventeen times before throwing your phone down and burying your face in your pillow.

Wow. It was embarrassing. But the cute kind, where your stomach twists and your cheeks ache from smiling.

You shared a casual story with a few blurry concert photos and the caption: "Still can't believe all of this happened. Thank you for the best night of my life 🤍".

You didn't expect anything else. You thought it was over.

But it wasn't. About 3 am your phone lit up. A DM request. From an account with no posts, no profile picture... but one follower. Someone pretty familiar.

The username was vague, like a random sequence of letters, but as soon as you opened it you knew.

🐶: Is it ok if I message you here? I can't follow you because of... well, obvious reasons, haha. But I just- I couldn't stop thinking about what happened earlier.

Your heart skipped a beat. There was no profile picture. No real name. But you knew it was him. The way he typed. The emoji. The timing. Your fingers were slightly shaky when you replied. 

you: I mean, you did kind of steal my phone. I think that makes us friends now 😌

🐶: true. I don't do that for everyone, you know.

🐶: also, your hair. You really matched me?? That was insane. I thought I was imagining you for a sec.

You bit your lip. He noticed that? Of course he did.

you: of course I did. Blonde Jake? How could I not?

🐶: And that tattoo. Is it real?

Your fingers paused above the screen before you typed:

you: yeah. It's permanent. like my obsession with you.

🐶: wow.

🐶: can I tell you a secret?

You blinked. Fingers hovered.

you: only if you promise not to ruin my entire existence with it.

There was a pause. Then the next message came in.

🐶: you're the prettiest fan I've ever seen. Like, ever."

You stared at the screen for a full minute, heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

This was happening. Jake Sim just called you pretty. Jake Sim who couldn't follow you but still found a way to reach you. Jake Sim who stared too long. Who tripped over choreography after seeing your tattoo. Who looked at you like you weren't just a face in the crowd anymore.

And you weren't dreaming.

[redvexillum]

@peach-flavored-flambe I started this whole Flufftober/Kinktober journey as a way to challenge myself. Thank you for picking all the prompts for me this month. Thank you for always reminding me to write for ME and not for others. Thank you for being supportive of all of my writing since the day I entered this fandom. I know you are a fluff connoisseur so it's only right that I end this challenge with fluff - it is part Flufftober after all (and I wrote 24 smutty stories this month lol!)

TAGS: disgustingly fluffy, catastor, alastor is bad with feelings, alastor is in denial, touch starved alastor, ambiguously defined established relationship, alastor has a tail

✨️ This is a companion piece to Oblivious Love. A snapshot of a possible mini-series I may or may not write ✨️

In another world, in another time, Alastor would have scoffed at the very notion of competing for anyone’s attention—least of all yours. And yet here he was, locked in a contest of affections with the most revolting, misshapen, red… thing. His lip curled in distaste. 

Competing? 

What a joke. 

He, Alastor, the Radio Demon, competing with… this? This mangy, misbegotten creature that you somehow, with all your boundless compassion, deemed to be a cat. His left eye twitched as he watched you coo at it, tenderly brushing your hand over its head. Every stroke made its misshapen ears flicker back before they sprung up again like hideous, overgrown weeds. 

The beast grinned up at you—a lopsided, almost maniacal grin—and Alastor cringed at its wide, vacant eyes. Eyes that pointed in opposite directions, adding an extra layer of stupidity to its already horrific form. And to top it all off, it wore some ridiculous monocle over one eye, like some half-wit caricature. Alastor's gaze narrowed on the creature’s absurd antler-like protrusion. 

How… befittingly obnoxious.

And then there was the name. 

Catastor. 

Of all the wretched things to call this freakish beast, you—and the rest of the hotel—had somehow arrived at Catastor, no doubt inspired by some misguided notion that this abomination had any resemblance to him. He huffed. The very idea. 

Just as he was about to enjoy a nice, quiet coffee break with you—his sacred time with his favourite person in all of Hell, uninterrupted and undivided—Catastor once again waltzed in, unannounced and unbothered. One garish screech later, and Alastor watched in slow motion as your attention shifted from him to… it. Your cooing started, that soft, adoring voice, while you scratched its revolting back, its purring filling the air with an infuriating satisfaction. 

Alastor’s grin tightened, his claws tapping rhythmically against his coffee cup, every nerve on edge. He imagined roasting the little beast, maybe flambéing it for good measure. Or perhaps he’d skip the cooking and just… devour it raw. 

It wouldn’t respawn. Unlike the sinners here, this little beast wouldn’t come back... 

...Actually, he wasn't entirely sure. It probably wouldn't come back. 

“Are you enjoying that, Catastor?” you murmured sweetly, eyes soft and radiant as you stroked it gently, letting your fingers glide down its back. Catastor’s eyes slowly drooped with bliss, purring loudly, completely absorbed in the luxury of your touch. 

Alastor’s claws tapped harder. Perhaps he would spare the creature for a little longer, let it feel a few more sunrises. But only for now, until he deemed the time right. 

He wasn’t jealous, of course. He’d never lower himself to something so trivial. No, he already had your attention. Compete? He smirked inwardly. He would never. 

“Dear?” Alastor called, his pride swelling as you looked up, your lovely smile still intact, eyes gleaming with interest as they settled on him. His heart raced—it always did when you looked at him like that, so openly, so innocently, as if he were your whole world. Clearing his throat, he kept his tone cheerful, even as he threw a disdainful glance at Catastor. 

“Your drink is getting cold, my dear. All this fuss over that… thing,” he muttered, lingering on the word with disdain as he quirked a brow toward the vile intruder. 

“Oh! That’s true!” you exclaimed cheerfully, scooping up Catastor with all the ease of picking up a damp noodle. The creature seemed to melt in your arms, his gelatinous little body sagging like all his bones had been dissolved into mush. His spine curved absurdly, draped over your arm like a ragged old towel, all while his purring grew even louder. You giggled brightly, an infectious sound that made Alastor’s ears twitch, and his eye give the faintest, most involuntary spasm. 

How smug, how terribly smug that little beast looked, he thought, like he’d won something. Alastor was positively certain that he could draw even more radiant laughter from you if he just had you to himself. 

But this… not-competing for your attention carried on. 

The next day, he found himself strolling around town by your side, his back ramrod straight, shoulders squared, as he recounted the latest juicy bits of gossip from Cannibal Town. Your expression was relaxed, attentive, and that quiet comfort in your eyes swelled a surprising sort of pride in his chest. 

“Oh, and don’t get me started on ol’ Frank here,” Alastor chortled, gesturing with his staff at a dilapidated little shop across the street. “Croaked in the last Extermination, poor fool! And now some hapless soul bought the building!” He pointed with glee just in time to see a young woman struggle with the door before it promptly collapsed on her head. He stifled a delighted laugh. “No one’s managed to run a shop there for nearly five hundred years! Imagine such a waste of souls….” 

“Aww, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically, your amused smile softening. “Maybe you could help her out? Make her a deal?” you teased, a playful smirk lighting up your features, though your usual kindness still sparkled in your eyes. 

“Perhaps,” Alastor mused, softening his tone as the two of you strolled on. He did enjoy these quiet moments with you, wandering through the chaos of town. Ordinarily, he might have offered any other lady his arm with a bit of playful charm, but as his eyes drifted to your hand swinging casually by your side, he couldn’t help a ridiculous little thought from slipping into his mind. 

What would it be like to take your hand? To clasp his fingers over yours? He imagined the warmth, the softness of your skin and your hand would fit perfectly in his, as if made for him alone. 

The hum of Cannibal Town’s busy streets faded to a quiet buzz as Alastor fell into the silence. His gaze lingered on your hand for a moment longer, and then, in a rare, almost boyish impulse, he stretched out one gloved finger, brushing ever so lightly against the top of your hand. 

Immediately, his gaze darted to your face, but your expression remained calm, as placid as ever, lost in thought. The smallest curl of his grin softened as he looked ahead again, spine straighter than ever. 

A shuddering breath slipped past Alastor's lips. He had held other people’s hands countless times over the years—flirtations, deals, the occasional well-mannered escort—but this was… different. Strangely intimate. Vulnerable, even, which was absolutely absurd. He was over a century old, for heaven’s sake, not some fumbling schoolboy. It was just a hand, after all; he could chalk it up to nothing more than a gentlemanly gesture. 

So, after one fortifying breath, he steadied his gaze forward and reached out, his fingers inching toward yours. 

But… instead of your warm, delicate hand, his fingers closed around something smaller. And… hairier? 

Alastor’s eyes snapped down, and his lips clamped shut to suppress the hiss of static crackling in his throat. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep the shriek that wanted to escape from manifesting into the demonic roar his pride demanded. Because in his hand, instead of yours, was a limp, furry, noodle-like appendage. 

Catastor, somehow, had wriggled its way between the two of you and was now proudly extending its furry little paw into his hand. 

“Eugh!” Alastor recoiled, releasing the beast’s fuzzy limb with an audible cringe. 

You burst into peals of laughter, the sound bright and melodic as you greeted the cat with your usual warmth.

 “Catastor!” you cooed, scratching the creature’s head while it emitted a grating, delightfully hideous meow in response. Grinning up at Alastor, you said with a chuckle, “Look at us—a little family, walking around town like this!” 

Alastor’s grin tightened. “It looks nothing like me,” he muttered, only for the monocled beast to cast him a haughty, one-eyed glare. Under the hellish glow of the streetlights, its monocle gleamed almost smugly. 

“Oh, of course,” you replied simply, your laughter still dancing on your lips. 

His eye twitched as he entertained himself with the idea of cooking the cat into a jambalaya, rich and smoky. But no—that would be a small defeat, a concession that he was somehow competing with the fiendish little furball, which he wasn’t. 

Not at all. 

Yet, the relentless interference continued. Day after day, Alastor’s patience thinned. The little vermin seemed to have made it its life’s mission to sabotage every moment he tried to spend alone with you. He’d reach out naturally, aiming to rest a hand on your shoulder, only to feel the warm, slightly damp fur of the cat draped over your shoulder instead, as if it had some preternatural ability to stretch itself into his every gesture. 

Every time, he could imagine nothing less than punting the thing across the Petagram and sending it into the deepest layer of Hell. Yet, that urge would disappear the moment he heard your bright, amused laughter and saw your radiant smile. It was like you were some smile devil—any glimpse of your joy, and he lost all resolve to do anything that might bring you sadness. 

One afternoon, in the quiet shade of the bayou, Alastor stood by, his legs pulled primly together as he watched you lying in the grass. Your eyes were closed, a soft, contented hum escaping your lips as you lay there, bathed in the dappled light. The whole scene should have been picturesque: you, serene, the epitome of innocence and tranquility. 

But there was that hideous thing, sprawled over your chest like a satisfied pancake, purring loudly as if it had any right to bask in your affection. 

Alastor’s grin was wide, but his eyes were sharp, glaring daggers at the offending beast now lazing on top of you as if it belonged there. You, oblivious, kept humming, your hand stroking the cat’s fur in gentle, absent-minded sweeps. A perfectly peaceful scene, if not for the blob of red fluff ruining the picture by its very presence. 

One day, he mused darkly, one day that creature’s reign will end. But for now, he contented himself with standing by, watching the two of you in bemused, begrudging silence. 

The longer Alastor stared at that mangy little beast basking in your gentle touch, the more a unfamiliar itch settled in the back of his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder, just in passing—strictly passing, of course—what it might feel like if your fingers drifted through his hair instead, tender and deliberate. 

Not that he’d ever ask, of course.

It was merely… curiosity. 

Still, the cat’s purring only seemed to grow louder, practically vibrating with pleasure. Alastor's ears flattened, lying flush against his head as his grin grew tighter, his shoulders hunching slightly as his neck tried to disappear into his collar. He wasn’t jealous, nor was he competing with a wretched creature for your attention. 

He most certainly was not. 

His fingers drummed against his knee, the gentle tap-tap-tap a cover for how long it had been since he’d had time alone with you, just the two of you, enjoying each other’s company without any interruptions. To touch your shoulder, perhaps even feel your hand… in a gesture of camaraderie, of course. 

Yes, that cat really did need to go. 

“What’s wrong?” Your soft voice broke through his reverie, and he blinked, letting the darker thoughts slip away like shadows at dawn. 

Forcing a laugh, he pitched it into that usual two-tone cadence, rolling his eyes with practised ease. “Nothing’s the matter, dear, just basking in the peace and quiet,” he flicked his wrist with a dismissive flair, avoiding your gaze. 

You hummed thoughtfully, then suddenly mused aloud, “I wonder… is your hair soft?” 

Alastor’s eyes widened, his head snapping back to you with an almost painful creak. His heart thundered, warmth radiating through his chest in a dizzying surge. “That’s a rather odd question, isn’t it?” he replied, wincing as he heard the slight waver in his voice. His tail thumped softly against the marshy grass in protest. 

“Well, your son—” 

“He’s not my son,” Alastor interrupted quickly, unable to hide the slight flush in his cheeks. 

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes, and Alastor found himself scooting just the tiniest bit closer. 

“Oh?” He let a wicked grin slip across his face. “So, you want to touch my hair, do you? It’ll cost you a steep price, my dear.” His eyes glowed with mock menace, and a low buzz of static crackled from his staff. “Perhaps… your soul,” he laughed darkly, the edge of humour softening his tone. 

You blinked at him before bursting into bright laughter. “What if I offer a massage instead?” You wiggled your fingers playfully. “Catastor seems to love it when I give him a little scratch behind the ears.” 

“Ugh.” Alastor rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with an exaggerated sigh. “That cat’s so starved for affection, you could probably kick it, and it’d still be purring like mad.” His grumble was almost swallowed up by his own embarrassment. 

There was a moment of silence as you watched him, a thoughtful look flickering in your eyes. Alastor stiffened under your gaze, nerves prickling as though you could see right through him. Then, with a bright smile, you reached out, your fingers splayed and wiggling in invitation. “You can be the judge then,” you offered with a grin, your hands open and waiting. 

Alastor’s gaze locked on your outstretched fingers, and as if guided by some irresistible, magnetic force, he found himself drifting closer, leaning in with a reverence that felt both foreign and sacred. He knelt just above your head, his eyes meeting yours in a soft, consuming stare, so near he could see the flecks of colour that danced within your gaze under the dim light. Slowly, carefully, he bowed, his face hovering just inches from yours, every breath mingling in the silence. 

His hair brushed against your cheek, and the contact brought a light laugh from you, your voice a murmur that warmed his every nerve. “That tickles.” 

He was entranced, utterly held captive by your closeness, by the way your lashes fluttered and your cheeks flushed. He’d never seen you this close before, and each tiny detail felt etched into his memory. “Well, go on,” he said softly, his tone dipped in a vulnerability he rarely allowed. “Show me if your massage is as grand as you claim.” 

A rush of warmth and satisfaction welled within him when he saw your own eyes flicker away shyly, your teeth worrying at your lip. You looked so endearingly flustered, as if realizing you and he were somehow alone in a bubble of time—just the two of you, no one else to intrude, no foolish cat.

Your fingers threaded delicately into his hair, and he surrendered, eyes slipping closed as he basked in the soft drag of your nails against his scalp. A shiver chased down his spine, and he released a soft, involuntary sigh, savouring every touch. He couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him like this—no, no one had ever touched him like this. 

Your fingers travelled over his hair, deft and soothing, with your thumb tracing small circles at the base of his ear. He shuddered, his tail swaying in a steady, rhythmic beat beside him, betraying just how deeply he was affected. 

“Good?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. 

“Mmh.” His lips curled into a barely there smile, eyes still closed as he revelled in the feeling. “Passable,” he said, his tone rich with teasing. 

Your soft laughter flitted across his forehead, tickling his bangs and sending a delightful hum through his chest. He felt your breath, warm against his skin, each laugh another note of the melody he’d come to cherish. The gentle sweep of your thumb against his cartilage sparked waves of pleasure down his spine, and at some point, he’d eased himself down beside you, both of you lying on the cool grass, faces close as if drawn by an unspoken force. 

“You okay?” you murmured, your smile impossibly tender, amusement twinkling in your eyes. 

He met your gaze and found himself drinking in every detail. He liked your eyes, liked the way they softened as you looked at him. 

He liked your smile. 

But above all, he adored your laughter—the sound that seemed to strip away his defences and leave him feeling both exhilarated and exposed. 

A strange, quiet want flickered in his chest, something deep and hidden, something he hadn’t dared entertain. He wondered, just for a reckless, precious moment, what it would be like to move closer. Close enough that his breath mingled with yours, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your skin, maybe even let his lips graze yours. 

Just close enough… to be with you. 

Would such closeness chase away that cherished smile, rob him of the laughter that had grown to mean so much? 

As his thoughts drifted, your fingers slipped down his hair, tracing the line of his cheek. He could feel your fingertips gliding over his skin, tender and curious. Then came that small, enchanting giggle, a sound so sweet it echoed within him, lingering as if it were a treasure he’d never forget. 

Alastor could feel his heart beating a little too quickly as he leaned closer, drawn by the soft warmth of your touch. His face was just a breath away from yours, his lips so near your forehead, he could already imagine the gentle brush of a kiss. A kiss there would be innocent enough, right? Perhaps pressing his lips to yours would be too bold... but a tender gesture to your forehead surely wouldn’t be unwelcome. 

After all, this was for friendship—of course.

Just then, you sat up, leaving Alastor frozen, a pang of disappointment dropping like cold lead in his chest. But the ache melted away, replaced by a flash of heat, as you leaned forward, hair falling around him in a private curtain that made his breath hitch. Your smile softened, your eyes warm and unwavering, and then they closed, lashes sweeping delicately against your cheeks. Slowly, achingly slowly, you moved closer, and Alastor felt his pulse roar, filling his ears with a rush of anticipation. 

He could feel the warmth of your breath mingling with his, your fingers grazing his cheek as if the touch itself could tether him in place. A thrill he hadn’t realized he was longing for stirred within him. He closed his eyes, waiting, a tension brimming in his chest. His fingers trembled as he raised his hand, longing to close the last bit of distance, to touch you, to be as close to you as he’d been daring to dream. 

But then—“KAOUGH, KAOUGH, KAAAOUGHGHGHH!” 

A horrid, hacking noise broke through the moment like a thunderclap, snapping his focus away and shattering the spell between you. Instantly, Alastor’s warmth turned to ice as you jerked back, your attention stolen by none other than that wretched, blasted cat. 

“Catastor!” you exclaimed, startled, pulling away as the cat began to retch with ferocity. Alastor turned his gaze, annoyance brewing in his eyes, and found himself staring at the feline menace who was now coughing up dark, soot-like balls. These abominable little things, complete with tiny pointed ears and two unsettling, beady eyes, tumbled out of Catastor one after another, writhing and blinking as if they’d just spawned from a nightmare. 

“What the—” Alastor’s voice dropped, a disgusted snarl creeping into his expression as he watched the horrid little creatures emerge. Each ball of shadow looked like a poorly crafted miniature imp, malformed and twitching, with pointed ears and flickering eyes that seemed to leer at him. 

You, however, looked anything but disturbed. Stroking Catastor’s back in gentle, soothing motions, you cooed, “Aww, Catastor, did you eat too much again?” Your voice was filled with a doting affection, and Alastor watched in utter disbelief as the monstrous cat leaned fully against you, sprawling across your torso and letting its chin settle on your shoulder. 

“Yeeeeooowww,” Catastor moaned, an ugly, grating yowl that grated on Alastor’s every nerve. 

He gritted his teeth, feeling the rage simmering beneath his strained grin. The cat’s smug, hideous expression seemed to taunt him as it claimed your attention and care. Alastor could practically hear the mockery in its yowl. In his mind, he imagined various methods of removing this furred menace from your life—and more importantly, from his. 

But as he looked back at you, watching the way your eyes softened with laughter and your voice became gentle for this thing, the thought of that precious smile disappearing stayed his hand. Instead, he forced a tight grin, one that masked the bitterness eating at him from the inside, knowing he would endure—even if he had to suffer through a hundred more of those retched “yeeeooowwws.” 

"Aw, there, there," you murmured, gently patting the cat’s back with slow, soothing strokes. You looked at it as if it were some fragile, innocent creature, while the vile shadowy minions it coughed up scattered in all directions like troublesome spirits unleashed from a curse. 

Alastor could feel his patience fraying. With a quiet, heavy sigh, he sent out his own shadows, ruthlessly ordering them to snatch and crush every last one of the creatures scuttling about his beloved bayou. They obeyed, darting after the minions with deadly precision, each shadow winking out in a puff as they met their end. He folded his hands with a dark, calculated grace, but his gaze—his burning, dagger-sharp gaze—never left that insufferable cat. 

Oh, he saw it, all right. 

Saw the smug curl of its eyes, narrowing like crescent moons, and that infernal tongue hanging out, like it had the audacity to taunt him. Him. Alastor, the feared overlord, the Radio Demon. He felt something ancient and fierce coil in his chest, as if the essence of his full demon form threatened to break through, to remind this creature who reigned supreme. 

But just as his head tilted, shadows thickening around him with a promise of retribution, you turned toward him, drawing his full attention like a magnet. Your eyes softened, and a faint blush crept over your cheeks, spilling a fragile warmth he hadn’t anticipated. “Sorry about that, Alastor,” you said, your voice laced with sincerity, and as your gaze flicked downward, his anger dissolved just slightly, easing in the tender lull of your voice. 

Your next words undid him further. “Maybe tonight, we could read together?” You glanced up, offering a small, gentle smile that seemed to light the space between you both. “Just the two of us?” 

With those words, that insatiable, molten rage that had been brewing in his chest dissipated instantly, snuffed out as though you’d whispered the calmest of spells. 

He was sure of it then—you had to be a Smile Demon. How else could you possibly hold such power over him, capable of soothing his very soul with a single look? 

He gazed at you, awe mingling with amusement. Yes, you must be a demon of terrifying strength indeed—one who held him, the Radio Demon, in the palm of your hand with nothing more than a smile. 

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[gakukitty]

how would some of the sakadays guys be like with a clingy partner? their love language is physical touch or quality time and without it they literally wilt like a plant. im not sure who to request for? shin, heisuke, nagumo, gaku, kei, whoever! its up to you

clingy cling cling — ✦ — masterlist

featuring . . . shin asakura , heisuke mashimo , nagumo yoichi , gaku , kei uzuki , shishiba , natsuki seba ( multi , seperate ) x clingy! reader

note ; i was considering adding tenkyu here bc i wanna start writing for him but im too sleepy ,,, next time teust :33 !!! sorry if this is baaaddd :’( especially gaku and kei’s ine , i feel like those were bad but ts ok !!!! i hope you guys liiiiokkeeee iiittttttt <33

note ; also , sorry for making these so short !! i sort of lost the plot and didn’t know how to continue it , at fiest i wanted to make them sort of hcs but then i was like “idkkkkk” so i didn’t … anywaus , i might make a better version once i’m done with all my other works !!!

gaku ✦

“what’re you doing—?” your boyfriend half-grumbles, lifting a muscular arm for you to crawl under. it’s not uncommon for you to slither your way into his grasp— especially when he’s the busiest. don’t you know that he’s busy playing games?

you do know. but you just don’t really care. and honestly, gaku wouldn’t have it any other way. so, he’s happy to adjust his hold on you and let you shift closer, resting his cheek against the top of your head. this just adds another level of challenge to his game; he’ll see how long he can last focusing on his game before he tosses it aside in favour of reciprocating your hug.

it doesn’t take long for that to happen— because deep down, your dear boyfriend gaku is just as clingy as you. the man’s more than willing to let you trail behind him to wherever— okay, maybe not to some places, but he’s sure to send a message and leave a warm sweater for you on the rare occasion he’s not in your presence.

kei uzuki ✦

the man just glances over to you, gaze focused on the expression on your face— it’s one that he knows very well. so, uzuki just holds out a slender hand of his and gives you a soft smile.

you’re quick to take the opportunity, your hand reaching out for his. your fingers intertwine, and kei’s smile just widens slightly when you squeeze his hand. he’s used to this, your love of touching him and being near him. and i’m all honesty, uzuki really likes it.

moments like these, where the two of you looking through a bookstore for another book he can read.. while you sit beside him, your head on his shoulder as the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

nagumo yoichi ✦

he freaking loves you and is more than happy to have you around him at all times !! nagumo can be a bit irritating though, with all his teasing :’(

“aww, what’s that? you want me to stay looonger?” nagumo drawls, glancing back at you. the man was just getting ready to hop out of bed for work— but that cute little voice you just did reeaalllyy does something to him. so, with a soft, mocking sigh, your boyfriend lays back down. his limbs tangle with yours, his smile wide as he shifts closer. this is the life, he thinks.

heisuke mashimo ✦

at first, dear heisuke was just a little sigh. “you— you wanna spend time with me?” he’d blink, gaze darting around in search for cameras— because there’s no way you’d want to willingly hang around him !!

but, there is a way— and heisuke is overwhelmed with pure joy when your hand finds his. he’s grown to cherish your shared moments, his eyes sparkling with adoration whenever he wakes up with you clinging onto him, and his heart beating just a little faster when you ask him to stay with you longer before leaving.

oh, but his absolute favourite thing in the whole entire world is when you message him. the poor man has to lift a hand to clutch at his chest in attempt to stop his heart from beating so fast. you miss him? you MISS HIM???!!!!

shin asakura ✦

shin could tell from the start that you were the type who valued closeness and quality time. not only because of his abilities, but because of the way your hand would reach out for his slightly every now and then. or maybe it’s the way your eyebrows would furrow whenever he said he had to go somewhere— or, it could be when you’d linger for a little longer around him.

whichever one it is, shin noticed. so without you even asking about it or mentioning it, he grabs your hand gently. the man just flashes you a smile, lacing your fingers together and shifting slightly closer. even with the rather.. direct approach that he’s taking, it’s hard to hide the way his cheeks flush at that smile on your face.

he’ll spend all the time in the world with you if it means you smile like that again.

shishiba ✦

like shin, shishiba also noticed pretty early on. he was much more gentle about the way he went about it; he started with inviting you out to dinner one night. he had already known for a while that you appreciated quality time— so he was more than happy to spend time with you.

every now and then, during your dates, he likes to hold your hand. or, if you’re eating out; his foot sort of drifts towards yours. even the smallest of touches mean something, to both you and him.

he also makes sure to always wake up just a little earlier so the two of you can spend more time together in bed before he has work— the feeling of you beside him is one of the best things this world can offer, in shishibas opinion.

natsuki seba ✦

natsuki is similar to you— he also loves spending time together. so, one of his favourite things is when you come to visit him when he’s busy working. natsuki’s never too busy to be with you— your boyfriend loooovvvessss having you just sit beside or near him, sometimes listen to you talk or just sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

however, he has to admit that he quite likes spending nights with you. his arms find their way to your waist, his head immediately shifting to rest against your shoulder. the man can be quite clingy when he feels like it; but he knows that you’re the same. and he fucking loves it— he loves you.

© gakukitty please don’t copy my work , repost it and claim as your own , translate , or use it to train ai ♡

[mountttmase]

Still The One

Note - just as a little thank you for being so kind I thought I’d post something I’ve written lately. I’ll be back in a few days when my heads on straight but i hope you’re all well 🩷 and I miss you guys and my masey

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 1.5k

Warnings - fluff

‘Sorry guys’ you heard from behind you. The hand that was being placed on your waist squeezing you ever so softly as their hot breath tickled your neck but you knew that voice instantly and you couldn’t help but smile. ‘Could I borrow my wife please?’

The chorus of awww’s from your little group of friends that you were standing with made you blush but you didn’t care. Melting back into Mason's body behind you as he wrapped his arms further around your waist and kissed your shoulder. His skin was hot from embarrassment as his cheek touched your neck and you thought it was the cutest thing ever.

It was the first time he’d referred to you as his wife to other people. The sound making your skin tingle as you couldn’t contain you giggles and you just felt yourself radiating joy as your friends mirrored your smile.

‘Go on then, y/n. Your husband needs you’ your best friend laughed. Her sending you a wink as he pulled back so you could take his hand and when you turned to face him you felt your heart explode in your chest.

You couldn’t believe he was officially all yours.

This whole day had gone by in a flash, time only stopping when you caught eyes with him as he looked back at you tearily down the aisle and it finally hit you that you were actually doing this. Finally marrying the boy of your dreams and cementing the rest of your lives together.

‘What’s up?’ You asked as you followed him. Trying your best you wade through in your huge dress as Mason did his best not to step on it.

‘It's first dance time, are you ready?’ He asked. Brows wiggling cheekily at you and you were beginning to wonder if he had something up his sleeve.

‘What do you mean? We just sway from side to side right?’

‘Nah, I’ve been working on my moves’ he winked. ‘Just follow my lead yeah?’

‘Oh Mase, I don’t like the sound of that’ you laughed, but there was no time to argue. Mason giving the DJ a wave as he led you to the centre of the dance floor and you noticed people had started to gather in a circle around the perimeter. The nerves suddenly hit you that everyone would be looking at you but one look at Mason's kind face let you know everything would be fine.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Mr and Mrs Mount’

When it came to picking the song for your first dance, there was only one option you could think of. The pair of you had never really had a song that was yours before and considering how long you’d been together for you figured you should have had one by now. That all changed around six months ago when you and Mason went on a date night with Rasmus and Laura to see Teddy Swims and Mason pulled you in extra close for one specific song.

You’d heard the original so many times, but listening to the boy you loved murmur the lyrics softly into your ear was a moment that etched itself right into your brain and as you looked up him right now you felt those same feelings swarm you.

He was so handsome

His hair was styled just how you liked it, him asking you what your favourite look of his was a few weeks before today so he could have it just like that and your chest fluttered at the gesture. His eyes were warm and happy as they creased at the sides but it was your favourite smile in the whole wide world that your eyes were drawn to. The same one you were met with on your first date that made you fall for him in the first place, the same one you woke up to and went to sleep with every night and the same one that you saw when he told you I do a few hours prior.

You were so so in love with him you thought you might burst.

As the start of the song played, Mason took your hand and kissed the back of it causing the butterflies to surge in your tummy. You were so in awe of him it’s like you were floating and when he pulled you in closer by your waist you wrapped your arms around his neck. Letting him sway you ever so gently as his forehead rested on yours.

Looks like we made it, look how far we've come my baby

We mighta took the long way, we knew we'd get there someday

Tears were springing in your eyes almost instantly, looking up into his eyes as you could tell his were a little watery too. His freckled nose pink as he blushed and you had to hold back from pulling him in for a kiss as everyone was watching and and you weren’t sure if you could pull yourself away.

They said, "I bet they'll never make it"

But just look at us holding on

We're still together, still going strong

‘I can’t believe we finally did it’ he laughed quietly, trying to pull you in a bit closer but the puffy skirt of your dress made it difficult.

‘Sorry, this dress is bloody massive’ you laughed. ‘I’ll take it off soon’

‘Oh yeah’ he winked and you laughed at the way he couldn’t keep things serious ever.

‘Cheeky, I meant I’ll change into my evening dress’

You're still the one I run to

The one that I belong to

You're still the one I want for life

‘Have you had a good day, Mrs Mount?’ He asked, not getting tired of hearing that name come out of his mouth and his smile mirror yours as you grinned up at him happily.

‘The best day’ you beamed. ‘I love you so much’

‘I love you too’ he whispered. Placing his forehead back on yours and shutting his eyes so he could feel the lyrics whilst you looked up at his perfect face.

You're still the one that I love

The only one I dream of

You're still the one I kiss goodnight

Even though today was all about the pair of you, you’d missed him. Since the ceremony you’d been pulled apart to try and speak to everyone that had joined you for your special day but you wanted to be around him more than anything. So you took this opportunity with both hands and held him close. Letting him whisper the words in your ear just had he had that night as he slowly moved you around the dance floor and forgot everyone else that was there. Feeling so full of love as you inhaled his scent and revelled in the feel of him. Knowing you just needed to get through the rest of your day and it would be just the two of you again.

‘You trust me right?’ He whispered. His voice teasing and you didn’t know why he was asking you that and when you pulled back to look at him his eyes were sparkling with joy.

‘I just married you, I can hardly say no can I?

‘Right answer’ he laughed, pulling away so he could spin you out to the side of him and you giggled as he pulled you back in so your neck was against his arm and he could dip you back. The whole room cheering as he lent down to kiss you but you couldn’t kiss him back properly as you were laughing so it was just a mess of lips and teeth.

As soon as he pulled you back up and into his arms properly again you grabbed his face and kissed him. Not happy with the fact you hadn’t kissed him the right way just now and even though everyone was being loud you blocked out the noise and focused on your man as he lifted you up by your waist and spun you around a few times.

‘Are these those moves you’ve been practising?’ You giggled as he settled you back down. Going back to swaying you gently as the song was coming to an end but you wished it would have gone on forever. Knowing as soon as it was over you’d be torn away from him again until later on when you went to bed.

‘Nah, I’ve got a few more to show you later’ he winked. Your face turning bright red at the cheeky remark and even though he was joking, in the back of your mind you were hoping there was a lick of truth to it. The pair of you smiling back at each other delight, feeling completely euphoric at the fact you were stood in the middle of a dance floor in the arms of the one you loved more than anything with the rest of your lives to navigate together.

You’d made it. Made your way through the awkward talking stage, to your first date and then to your first kiss and everything that comes after. Through laughter and tears, fights and apologies and everything in between. You’d done it together and you knew you’d never be alone again.

I'm so glad we made it

Look how far we've come, my baby

[paucubarsisimp]

hi love!!! how are you?? i know you already did something very very similar, but i was wondering if you could do some more comfort w cubarsi, or maybe pedri! maybe like an anxiety attack or just small comfort! lately i've been arguing with my mom for very little things, and thought is never a bad fight it's still very upsetting and it gives me so much anxiety!! if not, that's fine, of course!! sending hugs!!

anxiety

pairing: pau cubarsi x reader

summary: in which pau comforts you after an argument with your mum

warnings: mentions about reader's argument with her mum

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, lmk if you'd like to be added!

it was raining a little.

not the dramatic, stormy kind. just a quiet drizzle, soft enough to ignore at first, until it started sinking into your hoodie and chilling your skin. you hadn’t even grabbed a jacket. your hands were shaking—not from the cold, really. more from the aftershocks of another argument.

you didn’t even remember what it had started over. something small. the kind of fight that lingers longer than it should. your mum’s tone. your sharp reply. the silence that followed. you’d been doing this dance for days now, tiptoeing around each other, never fully saying what needed to be said.

so you left. keys in your pocket, phone buzzing in your bag, and your feet taking you to the one place you knew you’d feel okay.

pau’s.

when he opened the door, his whole face changed.

“mi amor…”

your lips wobbled, and suddenly the tears were pouring. no warning, no holding it back this time.

he didn’t ask questions. didn’t need to. he just reached out, arms strong and steady as he pulled you in, holding you tight against his chest.

“i’ve got you,” he murmured into your hair, warm hands cradling the back of your head. “you’re okay. you’re safe here.”

you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you together. maybe he was. his hoodie smelled like home—something clean and soft, faintly citrusy, like the lemon soap in his bathroom. he rubbed slow circles into your back, letting you cry, no pressure to explain.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered eventually, your voice cracked and small. “i didn’t know where else to go.”

“no, none of that,” he said, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. his thumbs wiped away the tears still falling. “you don’t need a reason to be here. and you never need to say sorry.”

you swallowed hard, blinking at him.

“we had another fight. me and my mum. i don’t even know what about. it’s always something. little things that just… build up. and i feel so stupid for letting it get to me.”

pau shook his head gently. “you’re not stupid. you’re allowed to feel how you feel. i know how much you try to keep the peace. and how heavy it gets when you’re the one holding it all in.”

you let out a shaky breath, tears still clinging to your lashes.

“thank you,” you whispered.

he took your hand and guided you inside, shutting the door behind you. the lights were low, the place warm and quiet. you kicked off your shoes and followed him to the couch, where he wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and pulled you close.

you melted into him without a second thought, your head finding that perfect spot just under his collarbone. his fingers played with the ends of your hair.

“wanna stay the night?” he asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. “we can order food, watch something terrible, and forget about the rest of the world for a bit.”

you nodded against his chest. “can we get those cinnamon cookies from the bakery near your training ground?”

he chuckled, low and sweet. “i already knew you’d ask. i’ve got a box in the kitchen.”

you looked up at him, eyes wide. “you what?”

“i picked them up yesterday. i had a feeling you’d need something sweet soon.”

your heart squeezed in your chest. he always knew. even when you didn’t say a word.

you reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “you’re my favourite person.”

pau smiled, brushing his nose against your temple. “you’re mine.”

and in that quiet little corner of his apartment, wrapped in a blanket, tears drying on your cheeks and his arms around you, it finally felt like the world could pause for a while.

like you could just breathe.

[kings-wifey]

One Piece men taking care of you while you're sick ❤️

(I have a sore throat right now so I desperately need someone to take care of me-)

Zoro, Sanji, Ace and Law.

word count: 677

Zoro

"I told you that this would happen!" He growled, incredibly irritated with you for having gone against his words as he idly played with your hair, his signature stone-cold resting face had practically pierced the air, making things rather silent.

He was sat next to your bedside, having had to give up training today as Chopper was out foraging for medical supplies and ingredients due to Luffy having eaten a whole container of flavoured vitamins because "they tasted good", of course he didn't actually mind taking care of you it was just that your stubbornness really pissed him off at times.

"I swear, once your ass is better I'm going to break you."

"Hm... in what way?" You teased him, a cocky smirk on your red sickly face, earning you a groan and a rough poke.

"You cocky little..."

Sanji

"Open wide my darling," He spoke softly, spoon feeding you soup like an infant, his voice was a tad bit raw due to him crying since he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world for allowing his baby to get sick. His guilt stemmed from his mother's passing as a child, the gnawing feeling that he could've done something if he was stronger or actually knew how to care for someone at the time having scarred him, which of course wasn't his fault whatsoever but he'd never accept that nor forgive himself for not being able to take away his mother's pain.

He did not care what so ever that you could get him sick, you were his baby and you needed care! He watched with a soft smile as he saw you slowly eating the soup by each spoonful, admiring the way your soft lips wrapped around the spoon.

"What? Wish this was your dick?" You teased, mumbling slightly as you ate. You chuckled at the way he gasped and blushed as his hand attempted to hide the growing evidence of his arousal.

"Baby!"

Ace

"Babe you sound like Dadan-" Ace wheezes as he teases you, causing him to receive a slap from Marco who was monitoring your temperature. "Shut it. She needs to rest." He scolds your boyfriend sternly before stepping outside to dig through the ship's storage for more herbs, Ace takes the opportunity to climb into the infirmary bed with you and wrap his arms around you like a toddler cuddling their favourite toy.

The truth was, although he did try to hide it, he was horrified of you suddenly becoming seriously ill. He loved you a lot, it was just that he loved your pout and you whines of annoyance almost as much, which was why he'd always tease and poke fun at you affectionately because that alongside touch was love language.

"Don't you dare get sick again... shorty."

"Alright that's it, no more sex for you for a week after this."

"What?! No I was kidding pleaseee!"

Law

Beep beep beep! The thermometer beeped to signal that it was ready to display your temperature.

"Hm. Thirty-eight point five. You're running a slight fever." Law stated bluntly as he examined the thermometer carefully before he set it aside and got up, he walked over to his medicine cabinet and dug through it for a few moments before he examined a packet and took it.

He closed the cabinet before he made his way over to you, handing you the packet of antibiotics with his endearingly cold hands.

"Take two twice every morning and night, it should help to resolve it as well as soothe the irritation somewhat." He spoke with a stern tone, despite the fact that it was incredibly obvious that he was a tad bit worried about your sickness developing into something harder to manage and cure, but he shoved those thoughts away and focused on being the confident doctor that you needed right now and not some sappy worried man.

"Do I take them with water or...?" You teased as you gave him a suggestive smirk, earning a heavy sigh in response.

"... Yes water you horny brat."

Thank you for reading! I know this isn't much for my first post and I do feel very lazy and like this isn't good enough, but I hope you enjoyed it!

[gguk-n]

hii can you write one where y/n is dating brocedes at the same time in 2016 and then they find out?

Triple Threat

2016 was a tough year for Lewis and Nico’s friendship; not only on track but off track. Everyone knew how things were going on track but no one knew of the turmoil Y/N was causing off track.

“Lew, you were great” Y/N cooed as they cuddled after the British GP. The title fight was in full swing; “I’m just happy I have you” Lewis mumbled as he sucked on her neck. Y/N moaned softly pulling Lewis in for a kiss. The spent the whole night together as her phone buzzed away. In the morning Y/N left the room with a note on the table saying she was checking up on Nico.

Y/N, Lewis and Nico had been friends since they could remember. They had grown up racing each other in karting and now she watched her two favourite boys race against each other in the same team.

It was almost a year back when Lewis had told her he liked her. Y/N had been dating Nico at that time, unbeknownst to Lewis. They had started dating six months ago and decided to keep it quiet for a while. Y/N could never choose between the two; so when Nico asked her out she agreed; having nursing a crush on the pair since they were teens. So when Lewis asked her out later, she agreed. The two never spoke about their feelings towards Y/N and now they wouldn’t either with the raging title fight. Y/N would end up dividing her time between the two, enjoying the best of both worlds.

After leaving Lewis’s room, Y/N entered Nico’s with the key card she had. The two of them always gave her a key card so that she could come and leave as she wished.

Nico was asleep when she slipped under the covers. The movement of the bed made Nico stir, wrapping his arms around her. “You don’t care about your poor boyfriend” he chided. She pressed a kiss on his lips. “I do but Lewis is my friend too” she remarked snuggling closer. “Stupid Lewis, he gets everything” he muttered and closed his eyes to get some sleep. Little did Nico know, he was correct.

Things went on like that, Y/N juggling her time with the two. Since they were barely interacting without cussing each other out; she was able to continue to date them. But it all came to a head at the Abu Dhabi GP when Nico won the championship with just 5 points after finishing the race behind Lewis. The anger bubbling under Lewis was uncontrollable. Nico in his happiness ran towards Y/N who was with their team. He swept her in his arms and planted a sweaty and messy kiss on her lips. Lewis, who was only a few feet away saw the scene unfold in front of him. Y/N's eyes were wide and she could see Lewis's heart shatter for the second time that night. She moved away from Nico trying to get to Lewis only to be pulled back by Nico who had turned to look at Lewis but he was charging towards the pair. In a flash, Lewis's fist made contact with Nico's face. There were people trying to pull them off each other and cameras flashing, everyone knew what the next headline was going to be. It was only after a while were they able to do that. The cameras flashed as 2 bruised Formula One drivers stood in front of each other, Nico wiping the blood off the corner of his mouth.

"Cheater" Lewis spat towards Y/N who was stood there in shock with tears in her eyes. "I have no clue how long this has been going on for but she's been dating you behind my back" Lewis spoke. "I can explain" Y/N stuttered. "No. You played me, for that fact us" Lewis chided before he stormed off. "What is saying?" Nico asked with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry" was all that came out of her mouth. "Way to ruin someone" Nico said before leaving for the weigh in.

Mercedes were able to get Y/N out of harms way. She tried to talk to the both of them but she realised than that her selfishness had lost her the two people she loved the most in the world.

[wafflexdguy]

Hmmm, Platonic Gigi with twisted!reader who keeps bringing her random items? Twisted!reader having very clear favouritism towards the gambling gachapon :3

You have a Glisten  ---> kind <--- of Twisted behavior because I said so. 

Drip...

Drip...

Drip...

Ichor drops from your face onto the floor below. A dull existence for a creature the world doesn't care about. Walking around, attacking most that come close to you, not that you can really truly comprehend any of it. No matter how hard you try, it's a ton of voices and thoughts that rush into your mind, destroying any real chance of complete sanity. 

You look at your ichor covered hand. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

You look across the room. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You walk across the rooms. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hear a elevator door opening. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You flick your head briefly to the source of the noise before quickly disregarding it, continuing to walk around aimlessly. Brief talking is something you can hear before it quickly drifts away. You don't call out for help, you don't call out for anything. 

Ichor continues to drip from your arm. 

Does it help that you have a sudden grip on your wrist?

"Heyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!" Yells a familiar voice, promptly making you slightly jump. You quickly turn to the source of the yelling, only for you to lower your brow as soon as you see the red gachapon. "How's my bestest friend in the whole wide world doing?" 

You shrug. You can't talk. 

"Haha, right. Forgot about that whole 'ichor tearing up your ability to talk thing.' Sorry." You roll your eyes as the gachapon continues to ramble on about her day, about this interesting thing she found in an earlier floor she found, about a cool hat she found on the floor. 

Your reminded about something as your rummage through your pockets. Gigi looks at you curiously as you struggle to get find it. When you do, you hand a couple of bandages and a soda pop to her. She gasps in delight as you hand her the relatively useful items.

"Holy moly!" She exclaims as she quickly takes the items from you. "Where did you get all of this stuff?!" She asks you. 

You shrug.

"No, seriously, where did you get all of this?" She asks with a smile a little too big. You shake your head, refusing to indicate where you found it. She lets out an annoyed groan but drops the subject, instead refocusing on the items you gave her. 

A twisted ghost flies past you, ignoring you both. Gigi doesn't even acknowledge them as she promptly drinks the soda pop you gave her, surprisingly not hoarding it.

"I was running around the whole place trying to find you." She explains. "Don't know why you move place to place making it so hard to find you, but here we are!"

You don't even question how she knew you were on this floor. Maybe it was a lucky guess? She was always a gambler. Instead, you just shrug, acknowledging the statement. She finishes the soda as you could have sworn a lightbulb floats over her head.

"Hey! Why don't you come with me to help extract machines?" She suggests. You gesture to your hands, and then press them onto a nearby wall, watching how they hopelessly melt against it. In other words, if you try to do a machine, your hands will most likely phase straight through the machine. Solid enough to grab items, not solid enough to do anything long term. 

Gigi only stares as you show why you can't. "Oh, yeah. That." She brings her sleeve up to her chin. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm...." She loudly hums as she attempts to think of a solution. 

"Oh! Why don't you come with me to watch me extract machines?" She suggests once again. You raise a brow, not sure what she's getting at. "I mean, just watching me do what Dandy wants me to do!" 

...What Dandy wants her to do...

You nod, going along with it. It's not like you have anything better to do. 

"Great!" She grabs your wrist. "Come with me my little sidekick!" You ignore how she knows you're taller than her and just run along with her.

As she makes it to the first machine and begins to extract it, you find a shiny object on the ground, which you soon determine to be a soda pop once again. You wait for Gigi to be done with the machine before handing her the soda, which she accepts in kind.

"Geez, where do you keep finding these?" You gesture towards the floor. She looks down, confused before shrugging and moving on with you close behind her, occasionally picking up whatever Gigi didn't. Getting the same responses when you do give it to her: "Oh, wow! This'll make a good souvenir for my collection!" "Oh, this is priceless!"

"Mweheheh," sinister laughter comes from Gigi, "no other Toon could even dream of having this!" Gigi comments, showing you a glass ball with a purple fog in it. You didn't see her pick anything up from the ground, so where did she...?

"Heh, a magician never spills her tricks!" She says, holding the ball closer to her. She looks at you for a moment before leaning in close to you, whispering...

"I got it from my head."

You let out a garbled noise that what effectively a 'what.' Gigi giggles before shushing you, leaving you confused and maybe slightly frightened. "Don't tell anybody."

You're kind of sure that someone else already knows, but you slightly nod nonetheless. 

You reach into your pocket, holding out a bandage to her after she didn't see the blue light on the machine and promptly running away.

"Thanks." She says smiling at you, promptly putting on the healing item. "Where would I be without you?" 

 You shrug, unable to say anything. 

"Thanks for being such a good friend." 

The panic alarm goes off, catching you and her off guard. After realizing what it was, you calmed down and motioned for Gigi to go for the elevator. She doesn't hesitate as she waves at you as she leave, which you do the same. 

...

Drip...

Drip...

Drip...

[zahri-melitor]

If we're being mean about it, I think it's entirely in-character for Tumblr to call any story falling outside the Wayne Family Adventures paradigm "out of character". I mean, did that phrase ever really mean anything more than "I didn't like this characterization?"

Oh this is a spicy take, and one I’d like to dig into.

I don’t think that’s entirely true (see how much time tumblr spends yelling about their hatred of Tom Taylor, when Tom Taylor’s characterisation beats and storytelling are tonally similar to Wayne Family Adventures, to the point I’ve actively recommended his Nightwing run as an entry point for WFA fans who want to read main universe comics), but yes I agree that as far as superhero comics go, ‘out of character’ is most frequently used as a cudgel for ‘I didn’t like this storyline/characterisation’ or quite often ‘my favourite was in the wrong here/wasn’t the viewpoint character’.

My personal conception of characterisation in comics (and for any long running universe handled by multiple writers over decades, actually), is that every character has a range of what is ‘them’, and different writers slide back and forth along the scale of that range. Bruce Wayne written by Paul Dini (as a caring, empathetic hero) and Bruce Wayne written by Frank Miller (as a gritty angry hero raging at the world) are both Bruce Wayne, they’re just very different conceptions of him in the range.

Not everything ends up getting captured by that range; there are occasions when you get stories that are genuinely out of character, where there’s no continuity between that story and other appearances of the character, where every other writer and the fandom at large generally agree to drop and ignore that story. However, those occasions are less common than most people think, and what’s far more common is a later writer massages the story and applies a soft-retcon to ‘fix’ the situation.

That Danny Devito Penguin and Catwoman story where they solve COVID by vaccinating the world then disappear into the sunset as a couple? Ignored by everyone. Hal Jordan as Parallax? Subject to multiple retcons in terms of the reasoning for how and why things happened.

A bunch of the biggest ‘that was out of character’ arguments are over things where someone has decided THEY don’t want to treat some story as having happened (usually because it makes their beloved character look bad), and then a later story goes “okay, but how about we reference that story, look at it from a different perspective, and how that changes things?”. The comics fandom as a whole is large, widely distributed across platforms and communities, and very much does not think in one mind. Generally for every story you hate, there are others out there in the fandom who really enjoy it. Even truisms in certain communities over what is ‘bad’ don’t necessarily hold outside those communities. (Rob Liefeld still gets work as a comics artist, and while some of that is related to who he’s friends with, people still buy his comics!)

And finally, there’s what I like to think about as the comics perspectives issue. One of the unusual characteristics of superhero comics is that they’re wide shared universes…where we get to see stories from a LOT of different characters’ perspectives. Characters tend to appear in stories differently when they’re the main character of that title, to when they’re a side character or an opponent of the main character. That’s because the viewpoint character colours how that character is perceived. Bruce can be a noble hero in Batman, the father figure his kids are struggling against in their titles, a self-righteous blowhard in an antihero book like Poison Ivy, the irritating know-it-all colleague in Green Arrow, and the reliable best friend in Superman/Batman. They’re all still Bruce Wayne; different characters just have different relationships with and perceptions of him.

And a lot of complaints about ‘so and so is out of character’ is because in their own title that character has had some self discovery and characterisation to better themselves…and then in a book where they’ve got a walk on part, they don’t appear to have changed. And that’s a ‘this book is not about your blorbo’ problem more than a ‘your blorbo is out of character’ problem. Your blorbo might be being used as the heel or the obstacle in the title. The viewpoint character may not have seen this internal change as it hasn’t manifested externally. Maybe, change is hard and characters can and do backslide. Or maybe…this title isn’t about blorbo and the writer is just using the default ‘everyone knows’ characterisation for them because they’re not actually that important to the story outside of the writer needing someone who is likely to do X.

It's a sliding scale! This is how Jeremy Adams Flash and Si Spurrier Flash are both two great, fun Flash books…but tonally in completely different universes.

[kiwii-11]

home sweet home!

in which . . . smartass is preparing for their job the next day in disdain, but aaron works hard to make their time at home feel as relaxing at possible.

or . . . fool! aaron is a lovely cook and fool! smartass loves their semi-househusband.

cw . . . gn reader, they/them pronouns, third person pov, fooliverse!!!! fool! aaron x fool! smartass, empowered! smartass, teacher! aaron, did someone say project meridian. also i havent listened to all of project meridian other than james and anton’s listener audios. if anyone would like to explain the whole thing to me, plsss go ahead !!!!

when smartass came home, aaron perked up immediately.

"there you are," he hums out with a wide smile, "i've already started on dinner. it's my mother's old recipe; el helped me with it. i really hope you like it."

they stood in the the entrance of the house, pushing their shoes off and dropped their work bag by the door. they were tired, they were pissed off, and they were ready to close their eyes for the next seven days. but here aaron was in his 'kiss the chef' apron with the most gentle expression. he poked his head out from around the corner, waving his hand.

smartass trudges towards the kitchen in silence until they reach him in the kitchen. they sink against his back, arms wrapping around his waist and tugging themselves closer to him.

"hi, baby." they sigh in relief, resting their head against his shoulder.

"hey," he says, stirring the pot, "how was work?"

"i hate it," they respond as they furrow their brows, "i missed you."

aaron smiles as he places the spatula down. he turns slightly, wrapping an arm around smartass’ shoulders and hugging them tightly. “i missed you just as much. go and get changed. dinner should be ready in half an hour.”

“gimme’ a sec.” they say, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

he chuckles at the slight tickle before tracing lines up and down their back. he could feel them physically relax against him, as if the weight of the world was finally lifted from their shoulders. he knew that their job required them to work themselves to the bone, and while he knew that his partner could do it, the way smartass would return to him made his heartache. he wanted nothing more than to make their day better.

after holding him for a few more seconds, smartass reluctantly lets go and walks to their bedroom. the hallway walls were littered with photos of the two of them and some with elliott and his partner too. if there was one thing aaron liked to do the most with the people he loved, it was to capture the moment. he didn’t mind that said moment would have to end; just the thought of it happening was enough to keep aaron satisfied.

smartass changed into comfortable clothes (a shirt from high school and aaron’s sweatpants) and returned to the kitchen. aaron, humming his favourite song, was cutting up some garnishes as smartass came closer.

“how was your day?” they ask, leaning against the counter.

aaron grins at them. “it was alright. i finished at 4, got some groceries and came straight home to clean and cook. i know you said you were gonna’ be late, but i thought you’d appreciate a hot meal instead of takeout.”

it was nearly 8pm now. aaron still had a smile on his face. they had wondered how such a sweet and gentle guy ended up with someone who always came home pissed off. maybe it was because he knew that no matter what, they always loved him and never took it out on him. he knew their heart was kind, it was just their work that tainted their attitude.

he knew that if they had the choice, they wouldn’t be leaving on a six month work trip with little to no contact tomorrow.

“thank you. that’s very sweet of you.” smartass hums, looking at their hands.

“anything for you, baby.” aaron responds.

“i’m sorry, again.” they blurt out, almost cutting him off.

he stirs the pot a few more times before turning off the stove, letting the food sit. as they stand there, crossed arms over their chest, aaron pulls off his apron and sets it aside, coming to stand in front of them. he takes their hands in his and presses kisses to them.

“i know. it’s okay, you have nothing to apologise for. you’re not doing anything wrong, baby,” he claims as he brushes his thumbs over their knuckles, “as soon as you know it, you’ll be back here, and we’ll be having our little getaway and we’ll be away from work. i’ll handle everything here at home. plus, el and his partner said they’d drop by to make sure i won’t be sulking the whole entire time.”

they squeeze his hand, worried face.

“i’ll be fine, don’t worry. and i know you will be too, even though i don’t know anything about your project,” he chuckles, moving his hands to hold their waist, “thank you for all your hard work; it pays the bills and then some. i can’t believe you bought me a watch last month because you missed date night.”

“is that all you keep me around for?” smartass deadpans.

“that, and you’re a good kisser.” he jokes, leaning down to press his lips to theirs.

but they push their palm against his face, small smirk. “your smart mouth will get you in trouble one day.”

“you’re one to talk, smartass,” he chuckles, muffed by their palm, “the first thing you did was ridicule me at that coffee shop when i ordered a ‘large’.”

“‘venti’ is universally known by now, aaron.”

“oh, semantics. anyway, i’m happy that you have this opportunity to be the team leader for this project. you’ve been in charge a few times now.” he claims as he places his hands on the counter by their sides.

“it was either me or vincent for this project, and i’m pretty sure that snarky son of a bitch couldn’t last one week away from his partner without jeopardising the project,” they roll their eyes as they huff, but quickly catch themselves, “i—i don’t mean to say that i won’t miss you, i… i always miss you when we’re apart.”

aaron gives a small grin as they stare at their fingers, playing with them. he then gently cups the back of their neck and presses kisses to their face. each one trails back to their lips, where he ends with a kiss of longing and love.

“i always miss you too,” he mumbles against them, “i’ll miss you so much. oh—hey, it’s alright, baby, it’s okay! c’mere, let me hold you.”

their tears stain his shirt and they tightly clench to his back. aaron rubs their shoulders, feeling as they cry into him. in truth, he wanted to ask them to stay and to never go on these work trips again, but he knew he couldn’t do that. so he stands here and tries his best to comfort his partner.

smartass feels warm in his embrace, something that surprised them the first time that aaron wrapped his arms around them. when their power literally made boundaries between themselves and other people, they were beyond confused when they didn’t feel the need to do that with him. maybe they didn’t register him as a threat, or maybe he was just that charming.

he was the sweetest thing in their world and they couldn’t even truly have him.

“thank you for being so nice to me.” they sigh against his shoulder, holding him closer to themselves.

“you’re weird,” he says quietly as he presses a kiss to their forehead, “of course i’m nice to you. i love you, with all my heart. and i’ll still love you in six months when you come back.”

his words linger in the air like a thick smell of freshly bloomed flowers. smartass pulled their head away and wiped the rest of their tears.

“i love you too, and i promise that this will be the last one. i… i want to stay here with you. i don’t want to leave you here for months on end.” smartass states as they hold his face in their hands. he still looked at them with such love in his eyes, even under these circumstances.

“if that’s what you want, baby,” aaron says, “let’s set the table.”

dinner goes as smoothly as possible; not only was aaron a great cook, but he was a wonderful host as well. he poured their drinks, grabbed them tissues, filled their plate up when they wanted. he was always looking out for smartass. it made them feel even worse for leaving him by himself for the next half year.

they helped him clean up afterwards, drying the dishes as he soaped them. he continued to talk about his day, what school drama he was dealing with or what events were coming up. aaron didn’t mind filling up the space as they stood beside him.

“who’s going with you this time?” aaron questions when the subject moves to his partner again.

“vincent, even though he was supposed to be attending this ritual thing,” smartass responds as they dry their own hands, “we have a freelancer coming along, and a pro water elemental. me and the freelancer will be working with the engineering crew, and vincent and the elemental are in charge on maintaining the area.”

“so professional,” aaron says whilst washing his hand, “i still can’t wrap my head around all this magic stuff sometimes…”

smartass had told him about them being empowered after a month of dating. they were debating whether to tell him or not, but ultimately deciding to when aaron admitted that he loved them. his passionate nature made them spill their stories about being a warden, and demonstrating it when he asked.

while they didn’t use it around aaron frequently, they did use it whenever he asked. ‘can you put a ward around this vase so i can move it to the living room?’, ‘will a ward protect my car from when kids accidentally throw a baseball at it?’, ‘do you think that there are some wards big enough to wrap around the planet?’ — he was so curious. smartass couldn’t help but feed into his wonder.

“do you ever think about what it would be like if i wasn’t empowered?” they ask from beside him.

aaron glances at his partner before tilting his head up to the ceiling. “sometimes. i also wonder what it would be like if i had magic like you. but if i never ended up with you in those universes, then i don’t want them.”

“sappy.” they chuckle, circling their arms around him.

“oh, of course i am. i love you here and now,” he hums, “that reminds me, i have a little present for you.”

“you do?”

they watch as he begins to rummage in one of the drawers, pulling out a hand-sized box with a ribbon tying it closed. he urges them to open it now and when they do, they’re greeted with a small card. it expressed his love for them even more, saying how much he’d miss them and how much they’ll celebrate when they return. under it lays a flower enclosed in glass, an easy fit to put on a desk. it was one from their garden, they noticed, and it was preserved in a way where it could survive almost anything.

“a piece of home to bring with you,” aaron says, watching their eyes stare at the gift, “so you, uh, never forget your roots.”

“hardy-har,” they say as they roll their eyes before placing the gift carefully on the table and walking towards him, “thank you, aaron, it’s so beautiful. i know exactly where i’ll put this during the project. i’ll think of every time i see it and then some.”

“you’re welcome, baby,” he replies whilst kissing their knuckles, “my love.”

after everything was cleaned up, they two had head to bed. 10pm, and smartass was about to pass out.

“what time do you leave tomorrow?” aaron asks as they rest their head on his chest. his hand holds onto the back of their shoulder.

“i leave at 2pm,” they explain, pulling the blankets over the both of them, “i’ll be sure to visit you at work before i go.”

“it’s okay, i took the day off.” aaron hums quietly, eyes closing as he hugs them tighter.

“what? really?” smartass lifts their head up, staring at him in the dark “you didn’t have to do that…”

“i wanted to, baby,” he replies with a kiss to their forehead, “plus, you never make breakfast for just yourself; i know for a fact you won’t tomorrow. let me spoil you some more.”

he opens his eyes when he feels them lift themselves up from their spot on his chest. when they press a kiss to his lips, he’s quick to return it. a small sigh leaves him as he holds their cheek, keeping them close. smartass’ hand begins to dip beneath his shirt, brushing his hip and feeling how aaron slightly gasps against them.

when they pull away for some air, aaron leans up on his elbows, kissing their cheek and neck. one of their hands keep under his shirt whilst the other supported themselves on the bed. they could barely see him in the dark but they could feel his warmth.

“i’ll miss you every day,” they admit, sitting back on his lap and rubbing circles on his chest, “i’ll try and organise some times to video call. it’s the least everyone deserves, and i need to see you whenever i can.”

“now who’s sappy,” he jokes, holding their hip, “i appreciate that. but don’t put your project on hold for me, i don’t want to distract you.”

“best kind of distraction.” they huff out before pressing their lips to his again.

his fingers begin to dance at the ends of their shirt, holding onto them tightly as they guide him back to lay down. aaron lets out a small whine when he feels the way their hand moves up his chest from under the shirt, tugging the fabric up to expose him. they pull away to put only an inch between their lips and his, watching his faint outline try to nudge forward.

“please, baby…” he mumbles out.

“i’ll miss you so much,” smartass says between kisses to his lips, “i love you with all my heart. thank you for everything.”

aaron drags them closer towards his body, itching for them to kiss him more.

“i’ll miss you more, i promise, and i love you just as much,” he states, upturned brows and his breath hitching in his throat, “you’re everything.”

their heart ached, singing with joy at his words. his hands danced around their body, making them feel so loved that words couldn’t describe it. they needed to live in the moment like he always did.

one last night before separating.

[loftec]

Shameless DVD Commentary: None the wiser

I was tagged by a lovely anon over at @shamelessdvdcommentary to do this, thank you! Here we gooo

Which fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

The people (11 out of 20) have spoken! None the wiser

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

First published: 2015-09-23 (coming up on 9 years what is time??)

Last updated: 2021-12-11 (holy heck that's... shit! I'm sorry!)

Words: 218,480 and counting

Chapters: 53/68

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

A little bit of everything, mostly I'd been reading a lot of Shameless fic at the time and really wanted to write something that was both a really quite basic diner/coffee shop AU, but The Most version of it. The slowest burn, the most diner AU. I had no ambition for people to like it but I wanted it to be Known. If anyone ever asked for a diner fic, they'd HAVE to say, well, NTW is The Most diner fic we've got. If someone asked for slow burn, people would sigh and say, WELL, this one over here is the worst, but it is very slow. And also I was inspired by Before Sunrise / Before Sunset, and working in the music industry.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

I chose Mickey specifically because of the Concept, that Ian decides when the chapters start and end (with some exceptions) by going to the diner, but we're limited to Mickey's POV. Generally I think Mickey is easier for me to write, too, he's got a really strong voice and I like looking at the world (and Ian) through his eyes.

What was your favourite scene to write?

The whole banter/walk scene in chapter 44 when they leave the venue:

“Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to,” he says, “I believe in you.” Ian is silent, and when Mickey risks a glance in the direction of him and his non-trumpeting goddamned marvelous lips, Ian is looking at him like he’s some kind of unsolved mystery. ”What?” Mickey asks, frowning at him when Ian smiles. “Just a thought,” he says. ”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

I had that whole back and forth leading up to the first kiss in my head for years before I got to finally got around to write it and I still love it.

How did you come up with the title?

It's from a song, one of the core songs I associate with this fic. My playlist now has 149 tracks on it, but the ones I consider "core songs" are None the wiser, Day After Tomorrow, Let's Dance, How I Made My Millions, Not Dark Yet, and Mosquitoes. I'm not sure I can explain why, but None The Wiser came on randomly when I was doing dishes and thinking about this fic I was writing, and the vibes just lined up in my head. Also I think it fits this version of Mickey I'm writing, who knows so much and has so much experience, but refuses to understand what's happening when Ian walks into his life.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

Oh, wow. Yeah. I always reference silly little things and I just have to hope people understand them, or tolerate them at least. I think one of my favourite bit of foreshadowing is in chapter 39 when people keep staring at Ian because they obviously recognise him, but Mickey thinks staring at Ian is a completely reasonable thing to do and is mostly just annoyed over how blatant they're being.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

I am struggling right now lol, I had meticulous notes for what I wanted to happen for every single chapter up until 45, and now half of them say "they text all day" and I'm like THANKS!!! VERY HELPFUL!! Also life and writers block etc etc.

Favourite line in the story?

This is such a hard choice, so I'll just go with this one from chapter 42:

“So,” Ian says, sitting back to sweep his arms out in a wide motion, presenting his solution. “I think we should go out for breakfast sometime.”

Because to me it pinpoints the moment when Ian breaks the format, in a way? They have met outside the diner before, but only on accident, and here Ian realises that it might be a problem that they only ever hang out at Mickey's job. But metatextually, he also highlights the narrative crux they're stuck in. I don't know, is that a boring favourite line? I have many, and I grabbed the first one I saw so I wouldn't get stuck rereading the whole fic lol. Do you have a favourite line?

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

So much, it's hard to believe because there isn't too much of a plot, but so much. My planned ending is so far from what it was when I started out, which is maybe one blessing that comes from how long it's taking me to write it, I have time to rethink things. I can't really talk about it now without spoiling the actual ending, but you better believe I will expose myself once we get to it.

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this?

I'd written fic for a different fandom ten years earlier, but nothing in this style I don't think, and this was my first time writing since I was 20 and stopped writing jrock rpf. I suppose I'm still writing about music, though!

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

One of the things I've always wanted to do with writing for Ian and Mickey is to let them have conversations, have things in common, and be friends. Because I think they were in canon, we just never got to see it (in the first 5 seasons, careful what you wish for). Guess I'm saying I'm proud of the bants!

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

I don't think so! I mean, maybe the last 15 chapters? I kid! They will make it!

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

There is one line Ian says where, when I wrote it, I was like; this is the first time Ian thinks "I love you" but says something else. Cannot remember what or where right now, and I don't want to try and find it, it's late! Submit your guesses here, I might find it over the weekend if I have some time to look. Also, it's like one of those silly I love yous, one of the early ones, full of potential and feeling but perhaps lacking a bit in substance, but he thought it and I saw him thinking it!

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

Eh *coughs* I might already have, and I apologise. The worst part about writing something this slowly and posting the chapters as I go is that the fic isn't finished and so I feel like it's fine for me to sometimes go back and edit already published chapters. It's not right but I... will still do it. Sorry! A most embarrassing example is when, not too long ago, we discussed the layout of the diner here and I went back to the first chapter to see how I had described it, and it had changed in so many ways over the years? Small round tables?? The tables haven't been round since 2016!! So that's a very clear case of something having become canon for all the hundred little times I've thought of the tables as square while writing vs that one time in chapter one I carelessly said they were round.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Yes! So many! Or maybe not a sequel, that suggests another part of equal size. But little bits of stories, yes!

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

Yes! Like I said, my only aim was to annoy my way to fandom infamy. Turns out it's so much more fun to actually connect with people and write something with someone else in mind, besides myself. I feel so lucky that so many people have connected with NTW over the years <3

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Mostly just excited, I think! I still am, whenever I get to post something : )

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

No, I probably should have but I have a very hard time showing things to people when they're not finished.

Ask your followers to pick a snippet (no more than 500 words) and share your thoughts about it.

Add snippets in the replies and I'll share thoughts, if you want!

Thanks for reading! <3 <3 <3

[rad-roche]

had you written fo4 fic before dead man talking/dead woman walking? how did you get into the heads of existing characters like nick and figure out how to characterize them?

i typed up a little thing for this, then a whole big thing, so i've put it under a readmore so i'm not unleashing some kind of ancient scroll on the dashboard

i hadn't! it's my first fo4 fic, and you can tell because the start of dmt is a lot less confident than dww. i improve in real time. but i'm not totally new to the hobby, i've been writing for years. as for getting into the heads of characters, fanfiction is kind of an odd duck. i'd say it's both easier than original fiction in some respects, and much harder. easier in the sense that the characters are pre-existing and, by nature of the medium, readers are going to come in with all the goodwill in the world. more than anything they want you to succeed, because if you do, they have more art of a favourite character/scenario to enjoy. and also harder, because there is a really big He Would Not Fucking Say That button that can be hit at any time and readers who know a lot about the character you're writing for.

figuring out characterisation is far and away my favourite part of the process. it's like a puzzle box for me. i only write fic for things i feel like i can meaningfully expand upon in some way, and part of that is taking a character and pushing aspects around while still having them read like themselves, you know? as far as advice on how to actually do that, always keep the original media to hand, read through quotes, written down, on a wiki, and try and internalise what kind of word choices they use. 'i think' is different from 'i figure', 'i reckon', 'i guess that'. once you have that down, you can extrapolate from traits and thoughts they display. don't feel too beholden to 'canon', because if you are, it defeats the point of making fic at all, right? you have something to add, so don't shy away from adding it.

as an example, something that isn't in the games at all but is present in dmt/dww is nick's hatred of cops. nick is hung up on eddie winter killing jennifer (game event) + the higher ups at the boston police department knew jennifer was being targeted for murder (game event) = nick resents the BPD as much as he does winter (fic only). it's not a big leap, right? and the new information added can feed back into existing elements in a compelling way. how does nick see himself as a private detective? what does he make of the original nick's complicity in a violent system? does his resentment come from the injustice present in policing, or is he hung up entirely on being sold out and screwed over? and so on, and so forth. what helps is reading widely, too. can't recommend it enough. this got pretty long, but i hope this answers some of your questions