#i cry when someone compliments my stuff

[pyrodolls]

i loved you from the start (raiden x gn! reader)

warnings: none!

summary: just a pure sfw story of raiden having a crush on the reader. (gender neutral, only pronouns used are “you”)

a/n: yeah so. remember when i used to be a havik account? LMAOO sorry i think raiden is very laufey coded and he’s so wholesome in mk1 :> anyways this has been sitting in my drafts for 3 days i'm so glad i finally let it out of the basement

“hi y/n! it’s great to see you. lovely weather we have today, right?” raiden greeted, with his signature bright smile.

raiden was well beloved in your village, and everyone always appreciated his and kung lao’s efforts as farmers to help the village thrive. you were never very close to him, but you still respected him.

"thanks, raiden. yeah, the weather's been real nice lately. i'm glad i can finally walk outside without my skin boiling." you sighed.

raiden laughed. "indeed. i'm glad the weather's been going easy on you."

"i suppose so. what about you? i can imagine you aren't very comfortable working under the burning sun. has it been better for you these past few days?" you asked.

you both continued your little banter for a couple hours, just walking around the village with no particular destination. but little did you know, he had the biggest crush on you, and he was ecstatic that he could finally talk to you.

it was because he was usually very shy around you. he gets quiet when there's nobody else around, it was usually you two being together in awkward silence. but today was different. he woke up that morning wanting to talk to you. he immediately got himself freshened up and went around the village to find you with his newfound courage. he was glad his day with you went well and he didn't mess up or say anything weird.

"it's getting dark. the time went by so fast, but i didn't even notice because i was having such a fun time talking to you." you admitted.

"well, i suppose time goes by when you're having fun." raiden smiled.

you chuckled. "yeah.. i guess so."

you both stood in silence for a bit, neither of you wanting to go home.

"you should get home now. it's getting late." raiden advised. he didn't really want to see you go, but he also wanted you to stay safe.

"okay.. goodnight raiden. i'll see you tomorrow." you said, before placing a kiss on his cheek and walking away.

raiden stood there for a solid minute, frozen where he stood. did that really just happen? is he dreaming? he hoped he wasn't.

he walked home with a cheeky grin on his face, and even went to sleep with that same grin. that moment where you kissed him replayed in his head over and over until he finally fell asleep.

that next morning, unfortunately he couldn't immediately talk to you. he had to go back to work. but he was okay with that. he knew once he was done, he can go talk to you again and maybe even offer to take you out for a nice dinner. he was tired of just looking at you from afar, yearning for more than friendship. he was tired of not having the courage to make a move, fearing rejection. he was tired of being completely head over heels for you, and never doing anything about it. he was always feeling as if cupid himself shoots an arrow through his heart every time he speaks to you. he had to do something now.

"you seem happy today. is there something exciting about our harvest?" kung lao scoffed, noticing his best friend's excitement as they worked.

"the harvest? no, not really." raiden replied.

"oh? so if it's not the harvest... is it a special someone? ooh, does someone have a crush?" kung lao teased, playfully elbowing raiden.

"w-what? no.. i mean.. maybe.. how did you know?" raiden stammered.

"i saw you walking around the village with someone yesterday. is that who it is?" kung lao asked.

raiden blushed, hiding his face with his hat.

kung lao laughed. "oooh, i wanna meet this person! let me see if you two are a match made in heaven."

when they got done with their work, they both immediately went to find you. when they found you at madam bo's, kung lao was ecstatic.

"hello there! y/n, is it? raiden talks about you all the time." kung lao greeted. raiden elbowed him.

"oh really," you laughed. "i'm flattered, raiden."

raiden loved hearing you laugh. it was like a sign that you were pleased by something he said or did. there are many things he would do for your approval or just to make you laugh. even if it slightly makes him look like a fool.

"it's such a coincidence you both found me here. you know, raiden and i talked almost all day yesterday. it was very fun." you shared. after hearing what you said, kung lao had a mischevious grin on his face and raiden blushed.

"oh really? that sounds like lots of fun. wanna tell me more, raiden?" kung lao teased.

"i- uh... um.. i have to excuse myself to the restroom." raiden stammered, running off.

you looked over to kung lao, in confusion. "what was that all about?"

kung lao laughed. "i think raiden has a crush on you!"

"me? really?" you asked.

kung lao shrugged. "but you didn't hear it from me. i'll leave you two alone to figure it out."

you sat there, confused, as kung lao left.

"hey, y/n, sorry about that. i guess i ate something weird." raiden laughed. he was lying. he didn't even touch the toilet. he had paced around the restroom nervously until he gained the courage to come back. he sat down across from you, hoping you wouldn't question it.

you laughed. "your friend says you're interested in me."

raiden blushed. "me? uh.. i.. don't know what he is talking about."

you smiled at how flustered he became all the sudden. "no worries, raiden. i am interested in you too."

his eyes widened in surprise. "you are?"

you nodded. he let out a sigh of relief.

"in that case.. how about i buy you some food? we're already in madam bo's. might as well enjoy a nice dinner." raiden offered.

"i would love to." you replied. you both ended up enjoying the food, and became closer that night. surprisingly, raiden was thankful that his friend exposed him. if kung lao never revealed raiden's feelings to you, he wouldn't have such a wonderful significant other now. (kung lao is forcing you two to offer him free food at your future wedding just because he's the reason you two are together.)

[pa-pa-plasma]

i don't think i'll ever get over how people treat kids that aren't good in school as worthless no matter what. "oh it can't be that bad" my guy idk how to tell you this but the last time i went to a normal high school the principal called me into his office to brag about how he failed me in all of my classes before the semester was even finished & i should quit while i'm ahead cuz i'm too stupid ("officially" diagnosed as such by a school counselor & a psychiatrist!!) to succeed. & this is considered normal

[dissapointu]

u have beautiful writing and it’s honestly a talent! you’re so quick with it like hello? may u please do how arcane characters would react to having a partner who likes making handmade gifts instead of buying them? me personally i LOVE making handmade gifts because it seems more beautiful putting in work for my friends and family! honestly you’re my favorite writer on this app I’ll most definitely think about makin u a handmade gift! you’re so cool!

FIRST OFF??? YOU are the coolest person EVER and reading your message made me do a little happy dance in my chair, so thank you for THAT! 🥹 The fact that you’re out here pouring love into handmade gifts for your friends and family?? ICONIC. Handmade gifts are SO slept on, and you’re out here proving they’re the superior love language. If I could, I’d be your hype squad 24/7. (Also, i would ugly cry if you made me a gift Mamas.)

Okay, okay, let’s jump into how the Arcane characters would react to having a partner who loves making handmade gifts because spoiler: they’re all gonna be absolutely obsessed with you. Let’s GO.

———————————————————————-

Jinx

Jinx would LOSE HER MIND every single time you gave her a gift. She’s such a sucker for anything you pour your heart into.

• “Wait, wait—YOU made this? For ME?” She’s staring at it with huge eyes like you just handed her a treasure map.

• She’d keep EVERYTHING you give her, no matter what it is. You could hand her a crocheted pigeon and she’d be like, “This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”

• She’d totally try to make something for you in return, but it’d be chaotic as hell. Like, you’d get a DIY flamethrower or something held together with duct tape and glitter.

Basically, she’s your number one fan and would brag about you constantly.

Vi

Vi is playing it cool, but deep down, she’s melting into a puddle of feelings. She’d get all quiet when you give her something and just kinda… stare at it like she can’t believe someone would put in that much effort for her.

• If you made her something wearable, like a bracelet or beanie? That thing is NEVER coming off.

• She’s not much for words, but she’d pull you into a tight hug and just whisper, “Thanks. I mean it.”

• Also, if anyone dares to make fun of your gifts, she’s throwing hands. (“What’d you say about my partner’s hand-painted mug? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”)

Sevika

Sevika would be SO caught off guard when you hand her a gift. She’s not used to people doing thoughtful stuff for her, so she’s just… staring at you, holding your gift like it’s a foreign object.

• If it’s something practical, like a leather pouch or gloves? She’s putting them to use immediately. And trust, she’ll let everyone know her partner made them.

• If it’s something sentimental? She’s keeping it tucked away somewhere safe, but you’ll catch her looking at it when she thinks you’re not watching.

She’s a little rough around the edges, but trust me, she cherishes EVERY handmade thing you give her.

Silco

Silco would be SO intrigued by the concept of handmade gifts. Like, he’s trying to figure out why you’d put in so much effort instead of just buying something. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it’s because you care about him. And yeah, that hits him right in his cold, scheming heart.

• Something elegant or functional, like a pen case or a decorative box? He’s putting it on his desk like it belongs in a museum.

• Something more emotional, like a portrait of him and Jinx? He’ll treasure it forever but keep it private—it’s too precious for the world to see.

You’ve officially cracked the Silco Code: thoughtful effort = instant softie.

Vander

Vander is 100% DAD MODE ACTIVATED every time you give him something. He’s smiling so big it hurts, just standing there like, “You made this? For me?”

• If it’s something for the bar, like a new sign or decoration? He’s putting it up immediately and making everyone compliment it.

• More personal gifts, like a knitted scarf? He’s rocking it every single day, even if it’s summer.

• He’d also love hearing about your process, sitting there with his tea like, “Tell me about this one. What inspired you?” Big golden retriever vibes, honestly.

Ekko

Ekko would be OBSESSED with your gifts. Like, you’ve unlocked a whole new love language for him.

• If you made him something for the Firelights, like a custom mask or patch? He’s adding it to his gear immediately. “Look at this! My partner made it. Isn’t it sick?”

• If it’s something sentimental, he’d carry it around like a good luck charm. It could be the tiniest trinket, and he’d be like, “This? This is everything.”

• He’d also 100% try to make something for you in return. Now you’ve got matching handmade energy, and everyone is jealous of your vibes.

Jayce

Jayce would be SO touched by your gifts. This man is a golden retriever in human form, so every time you give him something, he’s beaming like you just made his whole week.

• If it’s something for his lab, like a personalized toolbox? He’s showing it off to Viktor like, “Look what my partner made. Aren’t they amazing?”

• Something sentimental, like a framed photo or painting? He’s hanging it in his house and telling EVERYONE about it.

Jayce is basically your personal hype squad, and he’s never gonna stop appreciating your creativity.

Viktor

Viktor would be SO soft about your gifts. Like, he’s not used to people going out of their way for him, so when you hand him something, he’s just sitting there like, “You made this? For me?”

• If it’s something practical, like a custom notebook for his designs, he’s using it every day and thinking of you while he works.

• Sentimental gifts, like a sketch or keepsake? He’s keeping them close, tucked away in a spot where he can see them when he needs a boost.

You’d inspire him to start tinkering on something special just for you. Now you’ve got your own Viktor Original™.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be SO charmed by your gifts. She’s used to fancy, expensive things, but the effort and love you put into your handmade stuff? That’s what gets her.

• Make her something practical, like gloves or a scarf? She’s wearing them CONSTANTLY and bragging to everyone.

• If it’s more sentimental, like a personal letter or drawing? She’s keeping it somewhere safe and rereading it when she misses you.

Caitlyn loves thoughtful gestures, so you’re basically her dream partner. Period.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be absolutely enchanted by your gifts. She’s surrounded by luxury, but your handmade work feels so much more personal.

• Something elegant, like jewelry or an intricate painting? She’s showing it off at council meetings like it’s priceless.

• Something heartfelt? She’s keeping it in her private quarters where she can admire it when she’s alone.

Mel would also encourage you to turn your craft into a business because she believes in your talent 100%.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be IMPRESSED. She’s a practical person, so if you make her something functional, like a knife sheath or leather gear, she’s putting it to use immediately.

• If it’s sentimental, she’d keep it hidden, but trust—it means a lot to her.

She’d respect your dedication and probably compare you to a warrior. “It takes discipline to create something with your own hands.”

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger would be THRILLED. He LOVES creativity, and your handmade gifts would light up his world.

• If you made him something clever or whimsical, he’s showing it off to everyone in Piltover. “Look what my partner made! Aren’t they brilliant?”

• Sentimental stuff? He’s putting it in his workshop where he can admire it while he tinkers.

He’d also want to collaborate on a project with you because you’re basically his new favorite inventor.

Salo

Okay, Salo would be one of those people who doesn’t know how to react at first, but you’d totally catch him staring at your gift later, all soft and thoughtful.

• If you made him something like a carved figurine or a small keepsake, he’d keep it in his pocket for good luck and touch it when he’s thinking about you.

• He wouldn’t be super showy about it, but you’d KNOW it meant a lot to him when he said something lowkey like, “You didn’t have to, but… thanks. This is nice.”

• Deep down, he’d be so touched that you took the time to make something just for him. Handmade gifts just hit different for someone like Salo, who appreciates quiet, meaningful gestures.

Scar

Scar is giving CHAOTIC, “OMG YOU MADE THIS??” energy every single time. Like, no matter what it is, he’s holding it up like you just gifted him the crown jewels.

• If you made him something goofy, like a silly little knitted hat or a bracelet, he’s rocking it IMMEDIATELY. “Look at this! My partner made it! Aren’t they the best?”

• He’d totally try to “help” you make stuff sometimes, but he’d just end up making a mess and laughing about it the whole time.

• Scar is your ultimate hype man, always gassing you up and telling everyone how talented you are. You could hand him a macaroni necklace, and he’d be like, “Masterpiece. Absolute masterpiece.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is secretly the softest bean about your handmade gifts. Like, she’d be a little shy at first when you gave her something, but you’d catch her smiling at it later when she thought you weren’t looking.

• If you made her something practical, like a cozy scarf or a cute notebook, she’d use it all the time and feel so warm and fuzzy knowing it came from you.

• Sentimental gifts? She’s absolutely treasuring them forever. She’d keep them somewhere special, like her desk or bedside table, and glance at them whenever she’s missing you.

• Maddie would totally ask about your process too, like, “How did you even come up with this? It’s amazing.” She’s so supportive, and your gifts would mean the world to her.

Lest

Lest would be absolutely ENCHANTED by your handmade gifts. Like, she’d hold them so gently, as if she’s afraid of breaking something so precious.

• If you made her something elegant or delicate, like a hand-painted vase or a piece of embroidery, she’d treat it like it’s the most valuable thing she owns.

• Lest would also love the thought and care behind your gifts. She’s the type to listen closely when you explain how you made something, nodding along with genuine interest.

• You’d totally catch her showing off your gifts to her friends, like, “My partner made this. Isn’t it beautiful?” She’d treasure everything you give her, no matter how big or small.

And that’s it! TL;DR: YOU are a gift, and every Arcane character would feel insanely lucky to have someone as thoughtful and creative as you. Keep being amazing, bestie. 💜

[teaboot]

Feels weird leaving an ask, like I’m walking up to a sage on a mountain and asking advice but that sage is likely just some guy in his pj’s eating cheese. Anyway any advice for how to be okay with being perceived? It’s hard to not feel like everything I do whilst in someone eyeline is embarrassing

I'm actually eating Pierogi in the bathtub right now so this is perfect

Okay first off, currently working my way out of the wet paper bag that is Social Anxiety that once had me agoraphobic and melting down on my way to buy groceries, just so you know what you're working with

Care about how you dress, but not in like, a fashion way. Just a "I like how I feel in this shirt" sort of way. And not so much, "I look good in these pants so I will wear them to be perceived Correctly", as, "I feel great in these house slippers and when I feel good I'm confident and when I'm confident I give less of a shit what the haters might think". Wear what feels good. Cut your hair and do your face and nails whatever way feels good. Appearance is secondary to vibes.

Lean into the funny. I waited 10 minutes in line for a coffee order that had already been set out for me this morning, and when the barista noticed, we both had a good laugh. Five years ago that would have killed me. Now I'm glad these poor workers will have a funny story over their bland ass shift. When I was in retail that would have been adorable and hilarious! And so, my goofemup is a gift. I am full of blessings

Get louder and watch as nothing bad happens. Take up more space and watch as nobody yells at you. Wear brighter or skimpier or janglier outfits and bask I the glory that is "Nobody gives a shit except the nice strangers who give me compliments". Marvel at how far you can push the envelope before anyone so much as comments on it. This will free you.

Say yes to terrifying opportunities to be Seen. Karaoke, dance, improv. And if you can't do it sincerely, embody a caricature of yourself. It's terrifying and it sucks eternally and forever and ever and ever like hellfire until suddenly it doesn't. Then have fun.

Be honest. Not unkind, but blunt if you need to. "I'm having a bad time". "This kinda sucks for me". "I know you hate this song but you can deal with these last 30 seconds because I need it to live". Mostly people will think it's a joke but respect it anyway. God bless

Please keep in mind that I am flying by the seat of my pants here and this is just stuff that's worked for me. I am still a nervous disaster crying into the void. Good luck space cowboy

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗢𝗥

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Y/N and Matt are in a complicated relationship, where Matt is still stuck in the past with his ex. In an angsty pathway, Y/N suffers when she realizes that Matt will never love her as she wants.

WARNING: Crying, panic attack, comparison, ANGST.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 2

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N adjusted her stunning dress in front of the mirror. The bright red silk fabric hugged her curves in a way she knew would make heads turn that night. Her hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, meticulously styled by her curling iron, and her makeup highlighted her features impeccably.

There was a palpable excitement in the air, an expectation of Matt's reaction; she always expected to receive showers of praise from her boy, just as she did for him. The party they were about to go to - a fancy one that celebrated the launch of the new Space Camp line - would be the perfect opportunity to show everyone, and especially him, how hard she worked to be perfect.

The low sound of the bedroom door's handle turning sounded through the silence, Matt's figure appearing through the wooden frame, and all Y/N could feel as she watched him through the mirror's reflection was her racing heart. He looked stunning in his black suit, the crooked tie relaxing the seriousness of his attire.

She waited for the compliment, for the spark in his eyes that would confirm that all the effort had been worth it.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." Blue eyes traveled over her body for some seconds, but before she could absorb the joy of that moment, he finished. "Did you know that Amanda has a dress similar to yours?"

Y/N felt her stomach tighten painfully as her heart felt like it was being broken by a hammer three times its size. Amanda. Always Amanda. Matt's ex-girlfriend was a constant shadow between them, a specter that Y/N could never completely dispel.

She forced a smile, swallowing the anguish rising in her throat.

"Oh, really?" Was all she could say, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands shaking slightly at the side of her hips.

Later that day, the party continued with Y/N ​​by Matt's side, but her mind was far away. Every time someone praised her, she remembered Matt's comment. Even surrounded by people and with Matt by her side, she felt incredibly alone.

Her thoughts revolved around a single question: Why couldn't he see her for who she was instead of always comparing her to Amanda?

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A few weeks later, a new day brought a new blow. Matt was in his shared room with Y/N, sitting in his gaming chair with his upper body resting on the wooden surface, his hands on his Macbook, busy answering emails sent to the triplets' mail.

Y/N entered quietly, carrying two glasses full of fresh watermelon juice, knowing that Matt would definitely be thirsty and hungry after hours of sitting there. But as she got closer, she saw his computer screen. The messaging app was open, and the open window wasn't just any texts — it was old conversations between Matt and Amanda.

He read them with a melancholic smile, his eyes shining with a longing that Y/N knew all too well.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an involuntary whisper, the broken tone sounding louder than it was expected.

The boy startled, closing the laptop quickly.

"Babe, hey, you scared me!" The boy turned around suddenly, clearing his throat and laughing awkwardly, trying to look casual. "I was just... clearing out some old stuff."

Y/N just nodded, the pain growing inside her chest.

"It's fine. Here, I made this for you." She raised her hand that held the fullest glass, smiling brokenly and keeping her eyes open, taking note on how Matt didn't notice the tears shining in her orbs or pretended not to.

She knew he was lying. She knew he was stuck in the past, that Amanda still dominated his thoughts and his heart. But once again, she chose to ignore it, to stifle her own suffering out of love for him.

Because losing Matt was a fear that outweighed any pain she might feel.

Right?

Right! Until things reached an unbearable point.

Y/N had an appointment at the beauty salon, something she did to feel a little more in control, a little more beautiful in a reality where she always felt insufficient. Matt said he couldn't accompany her, claiming he had videos to film with his brothers. She understood, or at least she tried.

It was Saturday, they didn't film on Saturday.

Sitting in the salon chair, while her nails were being done and her hair was treated, Y/N took out her phone to pass the time, holding the device awkwardly for fear of smudging her sparkling nail polish.

Scrolling through Instagram while her ears caught some conversations around the salon, her heart almost flew out of its place and up her mouth when she saw a photo that one of the celebrity gossip pages had just posted.

Matt was in a coffee shop with Amanda.

His smile was radiant, a kind of joy Y/N hadn't seen on his face in a long time. He looked so… complete, so genuinely happy.

Y/N felt the world come crashing down around her. Tears burned her eyes, but she held them back, looking around at all the other radiant women before turning her attention back to the news, clutching her cell between her left fingers, a low "sorry" scaping her lips when her right hand trembled against the manicurist ones.

She didn't give a shit that they were talking in a cafe, she didn't mind if they wanted to be friends again - even though she had destroyed Matt, and Y/N was the one to put him together again -, it was something else that bothered her.

Matt had lied to her. He said he was going to film. What the fuck was he doing out with Amanda?

But the truth was right there, raw and painful: Matt would never be fully hers. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she sacrificed, he would always be stuck in the past in the love he had for Amanda. He would always go back to her.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing a smile as the manicurist applied red nail polish to her nails on her left hand. The color perfectly matched the feelings she felt at that moment; dark.

Every move by the salon professionals seemed like a desperate attempt to beautify her for someone who would never see her true beauty. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop her mind from going back to that image of Matt smiling with Amanda. It was a smile she could never get out of him.

"You look amazing, Y/N!" Cintia, the girl's hairdresser for years now, praised excitedly, straightening the last strands of hair just finished and turning the chair so that Y/N could see herself in the mirror. "Matt will love it."

Y/N looked at her reflection, but all she saw was an improved version of herself that, despite all her effort, would never be enough for Matt. She would always be just a shadow, a pale substitute.

"Thank you..." The girl tried to say, but her voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

The room around her seemed like a golden prison, full of mirrors that only reflected her internal pain. Every compliment, every word of encouragement, sounded hollow, meaningless, because the person whose opinion mattered most was, at that very moment, laughing and smiling with another woman; the woman he truly loved.

When Y/N finally left the salon, she felt exhausted, as if she had run an emotional marathon. She walked slowly to her home, opting not to call an Uber.

Her hands fished her phone out of her half-open purse, and, with trembling fingers decorated in red, she sent a text to Diana, her best friend.

"Diana, are you home? Can I sleep there tonight?"

As she waited for the answer, her mind wandered through a whirlwind of thoughts. The pain was constant but mixed with a new resolve.

She needed to get out of there. She needed space to breathe, to think.

"Of course, babes!"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Getting home was an automatic process. The house she shared with the triplets seemed colder and more hostile than ever.

Y/N walked past the living room where Chris and Nick were sprawled awkwardly on the gray couch playing video games, their excited laughter, and screams a cruel contrast to the pain she felt.

"Y/N!" Nick smiled brightly when he saw his best friend out of the corner of his eye. "Want to play a round with us?"

"No thanks, Nick. I'm tired." She murmured, smiling wide and fake - even though he wasn't looking at her directly -, trying to appear normal.

She walked slowly down the path between the living room and kitchen, each step a reminder of what she was about to do.

Her hands worked automatically on the door, entering her shared room with Matt, closing it behind her, the sound of the lock clicking echoing like a period in her mind. She looked around, taking in the details that made the space a home - the photos on the wall, the personal items, the memories. But now, it all felt empty.

She grabbed a suitcase stored at the back of their shared closet and began filling it with her necessities. The simple act of opening the suitcase caused a wave of despair to hit her.

Every piece of clothing and every object that her hands roughly touched and threw blindly into the suitcase was a small stab in her heart. The tears finally started to stream down her face, and she didn't try to stop them. Reality was imposing itself in a cruel way.

Her movements became slower and slower, while her thoughts became more chaotic.

"I'll never be enough for him."

"I'll never be her."

"He'll never love me the way I love him."

"I'm destroying myself for someone who cares little about me."

"What did I do wrong?"

These thoughts repeated like a cruel mantra in her mind. She felt her breathing quicken. Her lungs seemed unable to take in enough air. The room, which had always been a refuge, now felt like an oppressive cell. Panic began to set in. Her chest felt tight, her hands shook, and the air seemed to escape.

The tears flowed like hot, relentless waterfalls. The suitcase was open in front of her, half full, but it seemed like an insurmountable abyss. Y/N tried to take a deep breath, but each attempt only resulted in more despair.

The sobs came strong and uncontrollable. The girl stopped in front of the bed, standing, after throwing the last piece taken by her hands, bending her upper body over the suitcase, gripping the edge of the thick fabric with such strength that it made her fingers take on a whitish color, fully throwing her weight on her arms as if they were a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

"Why am I not good enough?"

"What is wrong with me?"

"Why can’t he love me?"

She felt completely alone, drowning in her own pain. The panic attack took over, stealing any trace of control she still had.

The walls of the room seemed to close in on Y/N, the contours of the furniture becoming indistinct and threatening as her breathing became increasingly rapid and shallow. Her heart hammered in her chest with an almost painful force, each beat ringing in her ears like deafening thunder. The air felt thick, sticky, and impossible to inhale properly.

"Am I really that hard to be loved?"

"I wish I was her."

"He was never mine, right?"

Her hands shook uncontrollably, her fingers tingling over her suitcase as a feeling of numbness spread through her arms. Sweat dripped down her forehead, leaving her feeling sticky and uncomfortable, while the cold began to spread throughout her body, generating incessant chills.

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room distorting into restless shadows that danced and pulsed, transforming the room into a place strangely familiar and frighteningly alien at the same time. Each sound seemed amplified and distant, the ones of laughter and the clicks of long and simple kisses played in memories in her head like a record player at its highest volume, creating a surreal echo that only intensified the feeling of isolation and despair.

Exhausted, Y/N let herself sink to the floor, her sobs echoing in the empty room, an expression of the pain and loneliness that she felt suffocating herself relentlessly. Her legs folded in front of her body, the front of her thighs sticking firmly against her stomach as her arms served as a shield for her head, her hands involuntarily going up to her own hair, gripping the strands tightly, trying to ground herself.

Meanwhile, Nick ran towards her and Matt's room with quick, excited steps. He had just finished the last round of his video game with Chris and was looking forward to seeing the outcome of Y/N's salon day, hoping it would make her happier after noticing the inconsistency in her voice when she got home.

His closed fist lightly knocked on the door before opening it, the smile on his face instantly disappearing as his eyes met the scene before him.

Y/N was on the floor, curled up in a fetal position, her hands now grabbing her arms in a desperate hug. Her face was wet with tears, her eyes wide and fixed on a distant, indistinct point. Her breathing was ragged, labored, as if she were trying to pull air through a narrow, clogged straw. The sound of her panting was interspersed with heavy sobs, creating a symphony of anguish that made Nick's heart tighten in his chest.

"Y/N!" Nick called, his voice thick with panic. But to Y/N, his words were like distant whispers, drowned out by the deafening noise of her own frantically beating heart.

Her mind was in a whirlwind of chaotic, disorganized thoughts, each competing for attention and increasing the feeling of panic. She felt trapped in an endless cycle of terror, unable to escape the downward spiral that consumed her.

The feeling of suffocation was overwhelming, as if an invisible weight was pressing down on her chest, making every desperate attempt to breathe difficult. The seconds seemed to stretch into a torturous eternity, each second carrying a new wave of fear and despair.

Nick ran up to her, the panic on his face intensifying by the second. He knelt beside Y/N, trying to find a way to reach her, to bring her back from that abyss of despair. His hands shook as he gently pulled her close, enveloping her in a tight, protective hug.

"I’m here, Y/N, I’m here." He repeated, his voice choked with emotion, praying to whatever was watching them to make her listen to him. But she didn't seem to be able to do it, lost in her own spiral of panic.

Nick closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to stay calm. He knew he needed to be strong for her, and he needed to find a way to calm her.

"Y/N, look at me, please." He pleaded, voice softer, trying to break the invisible barrier that kept her trapped in her own fear. The brunette held her face with his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Breathe with me, okay? Breathe slowly."

He began to breathe deeply, exaggerating his movements so she could follow. He breathed in slowly and deeply through his nose, holding it for a moment before slowly exhaling through his mouth. He felt Y/N tremble in his arms, but he kept pace, trying to convey calmness through each breath.

"That's it, keep going, you can do it." Nick encouraged, feeling a small change in her breathing. Her panting began to synchronize with his, although it was still irregular. He continued to whisper words of comfort, repeating that he was there, that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, very slowly, he felt the stiffness in her body begin to ease. Y/N's breathing became a little steadier, although she was still shaking. Nick kept the hug tight, feeling her heart beat against his own chest. He knew she was still scared, still trapped in her mind, but she was starting to come back.

"You're safe, Y/N. I'm here." Nick said once again, his voice firm and reassuring. He didn't let go of her face, maintaining eye contact, grounding her to reality. "Let's get through this together, okay?"

Finally, after several minutes that felt like hours, Y/N began to breathe in a more controlled manner. Her sobs subsided, and her eyes, once wide with terror, began to focus on Nick's. Her blurred vision cleared a little, the walls of the room seeming less threatening.

Nick sighed in relief, still holding her tightly, feeling the tension gradually ease in her muscles.

His own heart was still beating fast, but now, for a different reason. He looked around, trying to understand the situation better, when his blue orbs stopped on the open suitcase above the bed. The sight of the packed suitcase made his heart sink. Confusion and fear settled in his chest. What was happening? Why was she packing her things? The thought of Y/N leaving caused him his own panic, an intense worry that he tried to suppress, deciding that the questions could wait.

With a conscious effort, he looked away from the suitcase and focused on the immediate task of taking care of Y/N. He stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact to ensure she didn't feel abandoned for even a moment. The boy grabbed the pink bottle of water from the bedside table on her side of the bed and quickly returned, sitting next to her on the cold floor again. The hard ground beneath him was a sharp contrast to the softness of concern he felt for Y/N.

"Here, drink some water." He asked softly, handing Y/N the bottle.

The fragile girl took the bottle with hands that were still shaking but managed to open the cap and take a few small sips, each one firmer than the last. Nick watched her every move, his mind still spinning around the suitcase. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unasked questions. He waited patiently, without pressing, standing by her side like a pillar of support.

After long seconds of silence, Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze shifting from the bottle to the suitcase on the bed. She knew she needed to explain. Nick deserved to know what was going on, especially after helping her get through that panic attack. She straightened up a little, trying to find the strength to speak.

"Nick..." She began, her voice still trembling. "I... I'm packing because I need to get out of here for a while. I can't stay here any longer, the way things are between me and..." Her voice trailed off into the air before she could mention the name of the boy she loved most in the world.

Nick felt a lump form in his throat, but he remained calm, waiting for her to continue. Y/N took another sip of water before continuing, her words coming out in a halting, painful stream.

"I saw Matt with Amanda today, you know? They were together, and he looked so happy… happier than I've ever seen him with me." Her voice cracked again, but she took a deep breath and continued. "It made me realize that no matter how much I love him, he will never love me the same way. And I can't keep destroying myself like this. So, I'm going to spend the night at Diana's house. I need some time to think, to calm down. Get away from here. Get away from him. And maybe make him miss me... Or finally notice that I'm not what he wants." The last part came out in a broken whisper, her gaze lowering to her crossed legs.

Nick felt a wave of relief upon hearing that she wasn't leaving his life forever, but the worry and sadness over her situation still weighed heavily on him. He wanted to say something, anything to ease her pain, but the words seemed inadequate. Instead, he just nodded, offering silent support.

"And please, Nick, don't tell Matt anything yet." Y/N asked, her eyes pleading. "I need a little time to understand what I'm going to do. He really hurt me, but I can't act on impulse."

Nick held her hand firmly, offering her an expression of understanding and support.

"Of course, Y/N. I won't tell him. I promise." He murmured sincerely. "You can have all the time you need. And I'm here for you, no matter what. I love my little brother, but I won't defend him when he's in the wrong end. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are, Y/N. Someone who loves you completely, without shadows of the past."

They sat there for a few more minutes, sharing that moment of stillness and understanding. The cold of the ground seemed less intense with each other's comforting presence.

Eventually, Y/N stood up, with Nick helping her place her suitcase on the floor. She took one last look at the room she had shared with Matt, pain visible in her eyes but also a growing determination. She knew she needed to step away to heal, to find her own strength again.

"Let's go." Nick's voice woke her from her reverie, his hands picking up her suitcase and walking it to the door. "I'll uber you to Diana's house."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt returned home with a beaming smile on his face, his heart still racing with the joy of the friendly encounter he had had. He had spent the afternoon with Amanda, talking and laughing like old times, and the feeling of familiarity and happiness was undeniable.

The boy climbed the stairs of the house with quick steps, eager to see Y/N and share his good mood with her. He wanted to hold her close on their bed, bury his nose in the curve of her neck, and smell her soft and natural perfume as he told her about his day.

But when he opened the bedroom door, a strange feeling of tension in the air made him stop. The environment felt different, as if something had changed, but he couldn't identify what it was. He entered the space, leaving the door open behind him, turning his body and letting his eyes roam the four walls, trying to find what was wrong. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance: the bed was made, his clothes were in the same place, the books were on the shelf, and the computer was on the computer desk. But there was an absence he still couldn't understand.

It was when he opened the closet that reality began to form in his mind. Y/N's side was almost empty. Where her dresses, skirts, and t-shirts once hung, now there were just a few lonely hangers. The empty space where her suitcase sat now felt like a black hole, sucking in all the light and joy he had felt moments before.

Matt felt his heart stop for a second, a feeling of panic starting to take over his chest.

"Y/N? Hey, baby? Are you cleaning out the closet by any chance?" Matt's broken voice sounded through the room in an echo, seeming to escape out the door and travel the entire floor of the house, his blue eyes still fixed on the empty hangers as his mind created the expectation of hearing the sweet, melodious voice back.

But nothing came.

Nick appeared silently in the doorway, watching his younger brother with a serious expression. Matt was so absorbed in his desperate search for answers that he didn't notice Nick's presence until he heard his voice.

"She left."

Matt turned abruptly, his wide, confused eyes meeting Nick's. The older triplet's expression was one of deep sadness, mixed with calm determination. Matt felt a wave of despair rise up inside him, like an overwhelming tide ready to swallow him.

"What do you mean 'she left'?" Matt asked, his voice trembling accompanied by an expression of terror. "Where- Where did she go?"

Nick sighed, taking a step forward, eyes shining with suppressed anger.

"That doesn't matter now. What matters is that you need to decide what you really want, Matt. She saw you with Amanda today, you know?"

Matt felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. He looked around the room again, this time with a clear understanding of what was missing. Y/N, the constant, loving presence in his life, was gone.

"I don't understand..." Matt muttered almost to himself. "I thought we were fine."

"Only you saw this. Seeing you with Amanda was the last straw for her. She loves you, she really does, but she can't keep living like this, Matt, not when she knows that you still have feelings for your ex." Nick scoffed, a disgusted tone echoing with his words, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in suppressed anger. "And you can't continue like this, dividing your attention between Y/N and Amanda. This is destroying Y/N, and you don't even realize it."

"But I... I was just trying to be friends with Amanda again. I don't have feelings for her anymore." Matt spluttered, confusion and guilt beginning to mix in his chest.

"Then why do you keep seeing her?" Nick countered, with no softness in his words. "Y/N loves you, Matt. She loves you so much that she is destroying herself because you don't treat her like you should. She needs you, and you're here, acting like nothing's wrong. And if you continue like this, you will permanently lose the only girl who has truly stuck by your side through thick and thin."

Matt felt a lump tighten in his throat. He tried to speak, but words failed him. The image of Y/N, the woman he loved, suffering in silence because of her insensitivity, was unbearable.

He felt foolish and insensitive. How had he not realized how much Y/N ​​was suffering? All he wanted was to be able to hug her now, tell her that he loved her, and that she was the only person that mattered. But at that moment, he realized how late those words could be.

"I didn't cheat on her, Nick. I really was with Amanda, but I didn't… I didn't do anything wrong." Matt's voice sounded choked, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as anxiety rose through his body like rafters.

"You think you didn't, Matt. But sometimes, it's not about what you do but about how you make the other person feel. And honestly? Giving priority to your ex, the girl who broke you and made you suffer for days on end, over Y/N, who you say you love oh so much, is low blow. Right now, Y/N needs space to breathe to understand her own feelings. And you need to truly analyze what you did and recant with her when she is ready."

Matt walked with shaky steps towards the double bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, burying his face in his hands. The weight of guilt and regret was crushing. All he could think about was how he wanted to turn back in time, do things differently, show Y/N that she was the center of his world. Never have lunch with Amanda.

"I need to talk to her." Matt tightened his fingers around the brown strands of her hair, sniffling. "I need to tell her that I'm sorry, that I love her. I really do, Nick."

"I know. But give her a little time, Matt. Forcing a conversation now might make things worse. Let her process everything, and then you can try talking to her." Nick advised, watching him closely before he turned, walking towards the door. "And next time, treat her like the wonderful woman she is, not like a replacement."

Matt nodded slowly, begrudgingly, knowing his brother was right, the despair turning into a silent, constant pain. The room around him, which had once been a haven of love and shared memories, now seemed like an empty, desolate space. The mattress beneath his body, where both of their bodies lay together just the day before, now felt like an icy surface, sending horrible shivers through his body.

His mind betrayed him by making him remember the moments when he had treated Y/N with indifference and neglect, moments that he now saw with painful clarity. Each memory was like a stab to the heart, revealing the depth of his callousness. Y/N's smiles that he had taken for granted, the nights she waited up for him while he lost himself in thoughts of the past, the comparisons...

He could now see the small changes in her expression, the way her eyes sparkled less, how her smile became rarer with each passing day. She was withdrawing, and he was blindly contributing to that withdrawal.

Sitting there, now alone in the room, Matt felt the weight of his own guilt and regret. He realized that he had never made Y/N feel like the most important woman in her life. Instead, he had relegated her to the background, allowing the shadows of his former relationship to contaminate the present. Y/N's love and dedication towards him contrasted painfully with his own indifference.

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[simpjaes]

hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE

can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????

hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex

warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig

note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D

★ heeseung:

what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao

and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.

but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?

you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."

it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.

so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.

just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?

but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.

after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.

☆ jay:

i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.

honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.

then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.

you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.

always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.

after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.

still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.

always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.

(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)

★sunghoon:

ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.

this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.

so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.

ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.

after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.

an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.

and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.

and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.

so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.

it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.

☆ jake:

bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.

it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.

yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.

it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.

he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.

[tempobaekh]

Light in the darkness

Pairings: grumpy!bucky x sunshine!nurse!f!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, a bit of asshole bucky, hurt to comfort, kind of enemies to lovers but it’s mostly buck, no reader physical description so can be read as any appearance, female reader

A/N: got inspired to write this one after i came across @apparentlytheproblem account and enemies to lovers prompt list. there is a lot of good stuff there so i thank her for motivating me to write this, I used some of the prompts from that list, they will be highlighted in the fic. also got the trope inspiration from @buckyalpine (I absolutely love your writing) this fic here I absolutely love it, with perfect amount of angst and cuteness please go read it!! anyways enough of my yapping, enjoy reading!!<3 (also please listen to these two in this order for more feels, I myself was listening to them while writing this and omfg it got me in the feeeels)

The infirmary of the Avengers compound is a well-lit, sterile environment, but you've managed to make it warm with your presence.

Cute little potted plants all over that were practically your babies, small fidgeting gadgets for anyone to fidget with (particularly for Bruce and Tony), small snacks placed in different containers scattered around the infirmary (frequently emptied by Tony), and a few stuffed animals placed here and there, all meant to make the space less intimidating.

You’ve always been a naturally optimistic person, someone who sees the best in everyone and everything. The Avengers compound, with its high-stakes missions and often tense atmosphere, was a perfect place for you to share your sunny disposition.

The team appreciated it—your laughter, your kindness, your unwavering positivity. They said you were a breath of fresh air, a light in the often dark world they navigated.

Every day, you greet the team with a cheerful smile, your laughter echoing through the corridors like a soothing melody. Everyone seems to love you—everyone except for Bucky Barnes.

From the moment Bucky set foot in the compound, he knew he was out of place. Haunted by his past, he kept his distance from everyone, preferring the silence and solitude of his own company, he mostly stuck to Steve and would occasionally have a Sam-sized problem hanging behind him.

He barely speaks to anyone, and when he does, it’s usually to snap or grumble. With you, he’s even worse. There’s an edge to his voice, a coldness in his eyes that seems to cut through your sunny disposition like a knife.

When he first saw you, with your bright smile and cheerful demeanor, he felt a strange pang in his chest—a mix of longing and irritation.

You were everything he felt he could never be again: light-hearted, carefree, a beacon of hope in a world that still felt foreign and hostile to him.

A world where he was still hated by some- or many.

Every time you laughed, it reminded him of what he had lost, of the darkness that had claimed his tortured and scarred soul. He hated that feeling, that reminder, and by extension, he hated that you were the one to evoke it.

From the moment you met him, he seemed determined to extinguish your light. His coldness was a stark contrast to your warmth, his gruff demeanor a perpetual challenge to your cheerful one.

At first, you chalked it up to his history, his need for time to adjust and heal. You were patient, giving him space while still trying to make him feel welcome.

Every day, you made small efforts to connect with him. You brought him coffee with extra sugar, hoping the gesture would soften his grumpy exterior. You cracked light-hearted jokes, trying to coax a smile out of him. You even complimented his metal arm, not out of pity, but genuine admiration. Yet, every attempt was met with indifference or a sharp retort.

Your jokes were often greeted with a curt nod or a dismissive grunt, and your compliments seemed to make him even more uncomfortable, his eyes narrowing as if questioning your sincerity.

Despite your efforts Bucky kept his distance and rejected. When you brought him coffee with extra sugar, he grumbled about preferring it black.

“I prefer my coffee black,” he would say, barely looking at you as he set the cup aside, not noticing the hurt look on your face.

When you made light-hearted jokes, he responded with curt nods or dismissive remarks. When you complimented his metal arm, he saw it as pity, a reminder of his brokenness. Your persistent cheerfulness was like a spotlight on his scars, and he resented you for it.

But deep down, Bucky knew that his anger wasn't really directed at you. It was aimed at himself, at the man he used to be and the man he thought he could never become again.

Your presence forced him to confront emotions he had buried deep within himself—emotions he didn't know how to handle. Every time you tried to break through his defenses, it was like a chisel chipping away at the walls he had built around his heart, and it terrified him.

Each brush-off, each cold response, chipped away at your resolve, leaving you more confused and hurt.

It wasn’t just the rejection that stung; it was the feeling that you were the only one he treated this way.

Everyone else seemed to get along with him fine, or at least, they didn’t bear the brunt of his sharp edges. You couldn’t understand why you were the exception, why he seemed to harbor a special kind of disdain just for you.

You tried not to let it show, maintaining your sunny facade for the sake of the team. But inside, every encounter with Bucky left a small, invisible wound.

You would smile through the pain, and laugh through the hurt, but the weight of his rejection grew heavier with each passing day.

Nights were the hardest, lying in bed replaying your interactions, wondering what you had done to earn his ire. Wondering and thinking where you went wrong, blaming everything on yourself.

And yet, despite the pain, you found yourself drawn to him. Maybe it was the challenge he represented, the mystery of his cold exterior, and the glimpses of vulnerability you occasionally saw.

There were moments, fleeting and rare, where you caught a glimpse of something softer in his eyes—a hint of sorrow, a flicker of regret. Those moments made you wonder about the man beneath the armor, the soul behind the scowl.

Gradually, your frustration and sadness turned into something more complex.

You began to care for him, despite his harshness.

You noticed the way his jaw clenched when he was upset, the way his eyes softened when he thought no one was watching, the way he fiddled with either his dog tags around his neck or his sleeve when he would get anxious, the way the sound of any whirring machine close to him would subtly make him jump.

You saw the pain he carried, the ghosts that haunted him, and your heart ached for him.

You wanted to reach out, to comfort him, to show him that he didn’t have to face his demons alone.

But every time you tried, he pushed you away, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

Your feelings grew in the quiet moments, in the way you found yourself thinking about him even when he wasn’t around, in the way your heart raced at the sound of his voice, even when it was laced with irritation.

You realized you were falling for him, despite his best efforts to keep you at arm’s length.

You were falling for James Buchanan Barnes.

And he hated you.

One evening, after a particularly brutal mission, you’re restocking the infirmary when the door slams open. You jump, nearly dropping a box of gauze.

When Bucky stumbled into the infirmary, bleeding and in pain, he didn't want to admit to himself why he came to you. He could have gone to anyone else, but something—an instinct, a need—drove him to seek you out.

Bucky stumbles in, clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers. His face is pale, eyes dark with pain and something else—frustration? Anger? It’s hard to tell.

“Barnes!” you exclaim, rushing to his side. “What happened?”

A strange mix of emotions flooded you. Concern for his well-being, of course, but also a glimmer of hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this would be the moment he finally let you in.

He grunts, shaking his head as if to dismiss your concern. “Just patch me up.”

You guide him to a bed, your hands surprisingly steady given the state he’s in. You quickly gather the necessary supplies, your mind racing with questions.

Why did he come to you? He usually avoids you like the plague, very often going to Helen instead of you no matter the severity of the injury.

As you begin to clean his wound, he hisses, muscles tensing under your touch.

“Sorry,” you murmur, your tone soft.

He doesn’t respond, just watches you with those intense baby-blue eyes. It’s unnerving, but you refuse to let it shake you. Instead, you focus on your work, your movements gentle yet efficient.

Bucky watched you work with a mixture of frustration and awe. Your hands were gentle, your touch soothing, and for a moment, he allowed himself to feel vulnerable in your presence.

As you stitch him up, the silence between you grows heavier, filled with unspoken words and unexpressed emotions.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You wrap up the last of his wound and look him straight in the eye. “Bucky, why do you hate me so much?” your voice trembled with frustration and hurt.

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your question and his response took you by surprise. “I don’t hate you.”

You blink for a second and then scoff, shaking your head, trying to process his words. “You could’ve fooled me. You’ve been nothing but cold and an asshole since the day we met. I just don’t get it. Everyone else likes me, but you. You go out of your way to avoid me like I'm some plague! You always brush me off rudely and call me a bother when I try speaking to you only to speak with the others like it's nothing! You can't even give me the decency of respect, you pretend that I don't even exist!."

You stop, realizing you have almost gone to shouting, and take a deep breath in.

"Why?" your voice is quiet and broken, hurt and horse. Your eyes glazing with unshed tears,

Bucky felt a surge of conflicting emotions. He wanted to push you away, to keep you at a distance where you couldn't hurt him. Where he couldn't hurt you with his broken soul, and the demons from his past.

But the heart-shattering sadness on your usually lit-up face, made him also want to pull you closer, to let you in and see the parts of him he kept hidden. It was a battle between his fear and his longing, and for the first time, he felt the fear of losing.

Specifically, losing you.

“I’m not...used to feeling this way, okay?” he snaps, the admission seeming to cost him. His jaw clenches, and he looks away, refusing to meet your gaze.

For the first time, you saw something other than anger in his eyes.

Vulnerability.

Fear.

“Feeling what way?” you press, your voice shaking slightly, your frustration bubbling over. “What did I ever do to you?”

He’s silent for a long moment, the tension in the room almost suffocating. Finally, he lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping, his emotions pressing down on him. “I feel the opposite of hate...towards you,” he admitted, his voice raw and honest.

The revelation left you breathless. All this time, you thought he despised you, but in reality, he was struggling with feelings he didn’t know how to handle. Your heart ached for him, for the battles he fought within himself.

He watched your eyes widen in surprise, your mind trying to process his words.

The words hang in the air, and you can hardly believe your ears. “You...what?” your voice barely a whisper.

Bucky turns to face you, his expression a mix of vulnerability and determination. “You heard me. I don’t hate you., far from it. You’re always so...bright and happy. It messes with my head. Makes me feel things I thought I’d forgotten how to feel. You make me realize that I can feel a romantic attraction towards someone, you make me realize that I can have some goodness in life. You make me feel want. To want something and not feel selfish.”

You blink, trying to process his confession. “You...want me?” you asked, hardly daring to believe it.

Without hesitation, he answers, “You know I do.”

A slow smile spread across your face, and for the first time in a long while, Bucky felt a glimmer of hope.

The weight of his confession settled over you, bringing with it a mixture of relief and tenderness. You smiled a slow, genuine smile that lit up your face. “Such a pretty liar, mhmm. And here I stressed over that you hated me.” you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips, his usual gruff demeanor softening.

He grumbles, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Shut up and kiss me.”

You don’t need any more encouragement.

You leaned in, your lips meeting his in a sweet, tender kiss. It’s hesitant at first as if you’re both testing the waters, but it quickly deepens, the pent-up emotions of the past months pouring out in that one perfect moment. It was a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken words, the hidden feelings, the pain and hope intertwined.

When you leaned in and kissed him, it was like a dam breaking. All the emotions he had bottled up for so long—fear, longing, hope—flooded out in that one perfect moment.

Your lips were soft and warm against his, and for the first time since he could remember, he felt at peace.

As the kiss deepened, Bucky knew that things wouldn’t be easy. He still had a long way to go, and there were still demons he needed to face. But with you by his side, he felt a renewed strength, a reason to keep fighting.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, Bucky felt something he hadn’t felt in years: happiness. Maybe, just maybe, he could be more than the sum of his past mistakes. With you, he could be the man he once was—the man he wanted to be.

You pulled back, breathless and smiling, and a little dazed, you knew that this was just the beginning. It wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, you felt like you had a chance to break through his walls, to reach the man behind the mask.

You can’t help but laugh softly. “Maybe you’re not such a grump after all.”

Bucky smirks, a rare but genuine smile lighting up his face. “Don’t push your luck.”

You giggle, the sound like music to his ears.

As you finish bandaging his wounds, the atmosphere between you has shifted. There’s a new understanding, a connection that wasn’t there before. Maybe things won’t be easy, and maybe Bucky will always be a bit of a grump, but you’re determined to be his sunshine, to bring light into his dark world.

And maybe, just maybe, he’ll let you.

Bucky's confession had changed everything. In the days following that night in the infirmary, his demeanor towards you began to shift.

The once icy wall he maintained seemed to melt slightly, and while he wasn't exactly warm, there was a newfound softness in his eyes when he looked at you.

Still, the past months of his coldness and hostility left a lingering tension between you, a wound that needed healing.

You knew that a kiss and a confession would not be enough to cure his long-standing hostility toward you; you knew you both needed to have a conversation.

One evening, you stayed late at the compound, finishing up some paperwork in the infirmary. The sun had long set, casting the room in a dim, serene glow from the soft lights overhead.

You were engrossed in your work when you heard a knock at the door. Looking up, you saw Bucky standing there, looking hesitant and unsure. Your heart skipped a beat, a mixture of anticipation and wariness flooding you.

“Hey,” he said quietly, stepping inside.

“Hey there you,” you replied softly, setting your pen down. “What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, his expression serious. “I need to talk to you.”

You nodded, gesturing for him to sit in the white chair, that currently had a cute Dumbo plush placed on it. Bucky grabbed the plush before sitting down and placed it in his lap, fidgeting with the ears, his large frame taking up more space than usual, his presence filling the room.

There was a moment of silence, and you could see he was struggling to find the right words.

“I’ve been an asshole,” he finally said, his voice low and earnest. “I’ve treated you terribly, and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

You watched him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “Bucky-”

He held up a hand, stopping you. “Please, let me finish, I've been wanting to say this for a while because you deserve an apology. You’ve been nothing but kind and patient with me, and I repaid you with coldness and cruelty. I pushed you away because...because I was scared. Scared of what I was feeling, scared of getting close to someone again. I know my behavior is not to be excused but I'm being honest doll." he pleaded.

You swallowed hard, the raw honesty in his words touching something deep inside you. “I get it, Bucky. But it still hurt.”

“I know,” he said, his voice pained.

He stepped towards you, gently taking your gentle hands into his calloused ones and continuing to speak while tracing patterns on your skin with his thumb, the gesture comforting him. “And I’m so sorry for that. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t. What I can do is promise to make it up to you. I want to show you that you won’t regret giving me a chance.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a tentative hope blooming within you. “How do you plan to do that?”

He looked at you with such intensity that it took your breath away. “By being there for you, by treating you the way you deserve to be treated. I want to make you happy, sweetness. I want to be the man you see in me, the man you’ve been so kind and patient with.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity and determination in his voice. “Oh Buck…”

“I crave you, doll,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I crave your touch, your smile, your laughter. Every part of you. I’ve tried to fight it, but I can’t anymore. I need you.”

The intensity of his confession left you breathless. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“I need to know you mean it,” you whispered, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt.

He covered your hand with his, his grip firm and reassuring. “I mean it, Y/N. I’ll spend every day of my life proving it to you if I have to.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. More intense than the last one. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him. The kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up emotions and longing that had been building between you.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “You really want this? You really want me?”

“More than anything,” he said without hesitation. “You have no idea how much.”

A slow smile spread across your face, a mixture of relief and joy washing over you. “Well then, show me, Barnes.”

He grinned, a rare and genuine smile that made your heart soar. “With pleasure.”

He kissed you again, this time with even more passion and intensity. His hands roamed your back, pulling you impossibly closer, any distance in between being excruciating. You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you poured all your emotions into the kiss. It was a promise, a beginning, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly hopeful.

As the kiss ended, Bucky rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “You won’t regret this, doll. I promise.”

“I believe you,” you whispered, feeling the truth of his words in your heart.

The moment of intimacy is shattered by the sound of cheering and whooping from the doorway. Startled, you both turn to see Tony, Natasha, Steve, and Sam standing there, grinning like a bunch of mischievous teenagers who had just witnessed their friends’ first kiss.

“Finally!” Tony exclaims, clapping his hands together. “I thought I was going to have to script it out for you two. Turns out Terminator actually has the balls to confess." he snickered, seizing a snack packet of dried blueberries and munching on them.

Natasha smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. “Took you long enough, Barnes. We were beginning to think you’d never make a move.” the redhead pauses and winks at you.

Steve steps forward, a proud smile on his face. “About time, punk. I knew you had it in you.”

Sam laughs, shaking his head. “And here I was thinking the Winter Soldier was all cold and no heart. Looks like our sunshine melted the ice.”

You feel your face heat up, a mix of embarrassment and amusement washing over you. Bucky, on the other hand, rolls his eyes, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Do you guys mind?”

Tony steps forward, still grinning and munching on his snack. “Not at all. We’ve been waiting for this moment for months. I mean, the tension was practically killing us.”

Natasha nods in agreement. “It was like watching a bad rom-com where the leads are too stubborn to admit they like each other.”

Bucky sighs, shaking his head but there’s a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Well, enjoy the show. It’s over now.”

Steve chuckles. “I don’t think it’s over. I think it’s just getting started.”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Alright, alright. You’ve had your fun. Now, can we have a moment?”

Tony raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. We’ll leave you lovebirds alone. But don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

He turns to you and points at the packet in his hand, "Also thanks for this sweets," and struts out.

As the group begins to disperse, Natasha gives you a wink. “We’re happy for you, babe. You deserve it.”

Steve pats Bucky on the shoulder. “Good job, Buck.”

Once they’re gone, you turn back to Bucky, who’s shaking his head, a look of exasperated affection on his face. “I swear, they’re worse than a bunch of kids.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think it’s sweet. They care about us.”

He sighs, pulling you closer. “Yeah, well, as long as I get you to myself now.”

You lean in, brushing your lips against his. “You do. And I’m not going anywhere.”

As you kiss him again, the echoes of your friends’ teasing fade away, leaving just the two of you in the warm, comforting glow of newfound love.

With that, you knew that this was the start of something new, something beautiful. It wouldn’t be easy, but together, you felt ready to face whatever came your way. And with Bucky by your side, you knew you could handle anything.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[jemjams02]

Mammon Relationship Stuff :p

no gender/genitals mentioned! contains NSFW

thank u anon for making me remember I have free will and can gnaw at my enclosure while Mammon stands on the other side of the bars, visibly afraid

Mammon constantly has his hands on you. He HAS to be touching you; a hand on the hip, arm around the shoulders, hand in the back pocket, etc. If it's not his hands, it's his whole body, he'll press against you just to feel you there

Speaking of hands, Mammon's are pretty! Perfectly manicured, and with many rings on his fingers. He often gives you one of his rings to wear! An innocent gesture in your eyes, but to him, it's just practice for when he gives you your own special ring (wink wink)

He can't say no to you. You don't even have to give him any puppy-dog eyes, he'll do pretty much anything the first time you ask! He's absolutely whipped for you, and would kill someone if you asked.

If he could, he would whisk you away to a secluded place forever. He wants you all to himself! He can't help his greed, ESPECIALLY when it comes to you. Anything you're willing to give him, he'll take and take, and sometimes he just wishes you could give him and only him your attention.

Not a sharer, and will consistently invite himself to your plans (especially the ones with his brothers). He has to make sure nobody tries to steal you away!

NSFW

Sex with Mammon happens almost every night, he honestly doesn't sleep very well without you bouncing on his cock for at least an hour before bed

Desperate to make you cum, whether it's in his mouth/on his face, on his cock, or inside him. He needs it, he's greedy for your pleasure, and sometimes will ignore his own hard-on to work your sex until you're crying and begging for him to fuck you properly

LOVES having you sit pretty on his cock! He loves using his demonic strength to push and pull you up and down his shaft; sometimes slow and teasing, and sometimes he bounces you on his cock with reckless abandon, loving the way you writhe and shake in his grip at his merciless pace.

LOUD LOUD LOUD this man cannot shut up once he's got you in his bed. If he's not yapping, he's moaning like a bitch in heat. You just feel so good!!! Constant streams of praise and compliments fall from his lips as you squeeze around him just right

Master of aftercare, he just needs a second to breathe. If you're up for it, he'll run a bath and soak with you for a while as he uses a warm washcloth on your more sensitive areas

Biter, absolutely a menace. Since Mammon made you his, you don't walk around without a few dozen marks on your body at any given time, it looks like you were attacked by a pack of wild dogs

Likes dressing you up all pretty for him, only to tear whatever cute lingerie/underwear he bought you to shreds. Likes seeing makeup get ruined by your tears as he makes you cum for the upteenth time, and he WILL have you wear jewelry (and only jewelry), his favorite color on you is gold, obviously

LOVES cumming inside, it fills him with a sense of satisfaction to see his cum filling you. He's claimed you, inside and out,

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Replace ass with thighs in husks's drinking game, and charlie would *also* be downing a whole bottle.

one bottle down, a hell of a lot more to go

Charlie: "-and don't get me STARTED on the whole entirely too hot REST of her!"

Angel Dust: "What, like her winnin' personality?"

Husk: "Her temper sure is fucking hot."

Charlie: "ARMS!!"

Charlie: "Her arms you guys. Hhholy shit her arms...."

Husk: "They look normal as fuck to me."

Charlie: "THEY'RE. SO. FUCKING. STRONG. Do you have aNY idea how strong her arms are!? You ever been CARRIED in them???/"

Angel Dust: "She threw me off a roof once, Chuckles."

Charlie: "Throwing isn't the only way those hands and forearms are good at getting people off!"

Husk: "Fuck this. I need you to be knock out drunk in the next five minutes."

Charlie: (swaying in chair) "She wears those looooog fingerless gloves, all fancy, and I loooove... slooowly pulling them off... giving forearm kisses... knuckle kisses... kiss the scar on the palm of her hand..."

Husk: "DRINK."

Angel Dust: "Hold up on the booze Kitten Man, I gotta professional interest in this now. Go on, Morning Starlet."

Charlie: "The way she -hic-" (goat bleat) "-she sometimes gets fed up and drags me down for other, other kisses half way through heheh -hic-" (goat bleat) "HEH."

Angel Dust: "Now THIS I wanna hear!"

Husk: "Well I sure as bleating don't."

Angel Dust: "What's her technique like, Charlie Chip? I gotta whole personality chart based on how someone locks lips an' I've been DYIN' ta get her on there so's I can roast her in a whole new way!"

Charlie: "She drags me down for kisses sometimes, y'know...? ..a lot of the times..."

Angel Dust: "Yeah sure I heard you, but what KINDA kisses-"

Charlie: "The, BEST, kisses! Breast kisses??? Those- those too."

Charlie: "Vagg- HIC-" (goat bleat) "-ieee...."

Charlie: (giggles) (slumps over)

Angel Dust: "Oh c'mon!"

Angel Dust: (shaking her) "Wake UP bitch! What about booby smooches!? Does she start with upper lip or lower? Open or closed? She don't lead with her tongue does she?? Charlie! OPEN YA EYES AN' SPEAK TA ME, YA WAS JUST ABOUT TO GET TO THE ACTUALY INTERESTIN' STUFF!!!"

Vaggie: "What stuff."

Angel Dust: (SCREAMS)

Husk: "Your sex stuff."

Angel Dust: (ducking behind husk) "I DIDN'T HEAR NOTHIN' I SWEAR!"

Husk: "I fucking did, all against my will, like usual in this fucking place. I was just trying to get her drunk off her ass."

Vaggie: "You're both lucky her ass looks great drunk."

Husk: "Don't you fucking start."

Charlie: (flops over and right against vaggie's chest)

Charlie: "... oh??? I knoooow these pecs~"

Vaggie: "Hi sweetie."

Charlie: "Vaaaaagggiiii- HIC-" (goat bleat) "-eee hiiiiii...!"

Vaggie: "Maaaa to you too, babe. I'm picking you up now okay?"

Charlie: "Hhm... I think, maaaybe, you need a better one liner than 'maaaa' if you wanna pi- HIC-" (goat bleat) "-k girls up, Vaggie..."

Vaggie: "Lucky me I'm already dating one."

Charlie: "You are??" (tearing up) "So I can't, I can't a-hic-sk you out..?"

Vaggie: (carrying her upstairs) "Charlie. We share a room."

Charlie: "OOOH and we were ROOMMATES??"

Vaggie: "We also share a bed."

Charlie: "ANd THERE WAS ONLY -HIC-" (goat bleat) "-ONE BED!!!!"

Vaggie: "Babe..."

Charlie: "SO I'VE STILL GOT A CH-HIC-ANCE WITH YOU!"

Vaggie: (chuckling) "Always, Charlie. Seduce me later when you're sober though, for now let's just tuck you in."

Charlie: "Okaaaaaa-hic- ayyy!"

Charlie: "...you know what? You look a LOT like my girlfriend..."

Vaggie: "Really."

Charlie: "It's a compliment! She's very preddy~"

Vaggie: "Thank you."

Charlie: "I miss my girlfriend, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Well I'm sure she's around here somewhere."

Charlie: (crying) "I m-hic-" (distant goat bleat) "-miss her sooooo MUCH..!"

Husk: "...."

Husk: "You're one lucky fuck. She could've killed you."

Angel Dust: "She probably will anyway, once her supposedly sexy hands ain't full of dunk as fuck demon lady anymore. I'm living on borrowed time, Huskers."

Husk: "Now that I'll drink to."

Angel Dust: "Bitch~"

[yan-lorkai]

I’m not really used to requesting so here goes. Can I please request a platonic yandere hades Idia x kid reader who can see spirits? Where the reader just randomly approaches him when he is visiting the mortal plane (on his way to a mortal arcade. This man cannot live without his games Istg) and starts complimenting his hair and asking if he would be their friend, since all the other children avoided them, thinking they were weird because they always talked to their-self. Idia not comprehending how they could see him, stood there dumbstruck. The cherry on top, was when they mentioned they enjoyed video games and offered him a controller. Idia who never really had a real friend before, who was incredibly lonely, got to thinking. Of course, you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to. Thank you for your time ^^

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: stopppp, this is so cute 🥺💗💗. I love writing platonic stuff for Idia bcs my dude don't know how to act in these situations lololol

Idia doesn't know how to interact with children. Rather, he hadn't talked with many in his life - only dead ones, even then, they never stayed long enough for him to learn how to behave around them. He knew, because of his younger brother, that they were curious and talkative and sometimes throwed a tantrum for... Whatever reason.

Point is; as the God of Underworld, nobody is supposed to see him. Yet, as he wondered the living world, wearing nothing but his black as coal coat, there's you, sweet you, very much alive, very much capable of seeing him. And your mouth is moving, and your eyes are sparkling and he doesn't know how to navigate around this strange situation.

That was not supposed to happen.

Humans doesn't usually see him. There's this old saying that children and animals can see and interact with the supernatural, but this was a first for him. He always thought that this saying was just that: a saying. Apparently he was wrong.

Deeply wrong.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He is a God, he can't panic just because a kid is talking to him.

"- And then, that's what happened." You finished your story, voice trembling as you held onto his silky blue hair - he was half listening to what you were saying, something about how the other children wouldn't play with you just because you could see thing they didn't- which, he realized. You were not supposed to see him, either!

You seemed fascinated by his hair, twirling and braiding it between your little fingers as you looked at him with great expectation. "Will you be my friend, pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"L-look, listen, kid..." Your eyes were sparkling at his voice. For him, his voice was just normal, there was no reason for you to look so giddy. It was quite sad that you got happy just because someone was talking to you, he almost felt sad. "I have to go."

He nodded to himself mentally. He wasn't awkward at all. He didn't stuttered and he maintained eye contact. But... something he didn't predict happened; your eyes started to well up, and your lips were trembling.

"Oh... I see... That's fine." You conceded, not trying to force him. You wiped your eyes roughly and took a deep breath, turning around. "I just... wish I had a friend to play games with."

Idia hastened his steps. He was going to let you run away and all that, he felt bad for making you cry, of course, but a living child shouldn't associate themselves with someone like him. Yet... Your tone and atitude made his heart waver.

And he stopped you.

His hand on your shoulder was cold, almost as cold as the dead, you suppose, and you looked at him with curiosity.

"Perhaps..." He started, changing the weight from one leg to the other. He looked around; the stores were starting to open and people were starting to look at you in a weird way - not that you noticed. "We could play together at the arcade?"

You nodded immediately, sorrow and sadness forgotten as you took his hand in yours and started to run to the nearest arcade you knew. Your energy, your laughter, it was so precious, so unique. Unlike other laughters he'd heard before.

There, in that moment, Idia knew that you would become his lil game friend. You went on and on about how you'd win in every game and he could only smile, not wanting to disappoint you. But there was no way you would win.

Not now, not ever.

[alimaybankkk]

sunshine

summary: jj never really thought of loving a girl before. it was always a hit and run, but you were something else.

warnings: fluff. that’s literally it. like major fluff

pairing: jj maybank x innocent!routledge!fem! reader

————————————————————————

you were outside of the chateau, chilling in your yellow sundress when you heard his voice.

“hey, y/n,” jj said, sitting down next to you.

you grinned, tying a knot on the bracelet you were making. “hi, jj.”

he looked at you in deep thought for a moment, noticing it was the first time he ever loved the way his name was said.

“is john b here?” he asked.

you didn’t let your smile fade, although you were pretty bummed. you wished he’d come to see you, but you shrugged. “i don’t think so. wanna hang with me for a little bit?”

he looked like he was thinking, but he eventually shook his head. “i’ll just come back later.”

he wanted to stay with you. in fact, he needed to stay with you. but the thought of loving someone the way he loved you was terrifying. especially if it was his best friends little sister.

he stood, starting to walk but you followed after him. “well, where are you going?”

he shut his eyes as he stopped in his tracks. “home.”

you shook your head. “jj, can you stay with me? i’m bored.”

he shook his head. “i got work to do, princess. maybe another time.”

you suddenly looked at him with puppy dog eyes, gripping his bicep. “please?”

he bit his lip. damn, if he knew how to say no to you, he would have done it. but he didn’t. he grabbed your hand and took you back to where you were sitting earlier.

“pick a color, jj,” you said, putting your old bracelet off to the side.

“um,” jj thought. “i don’t know.”

“come on, j, just pick one!” you rested your head on your knees.

“um,” he said, looking around. his eyes fell on your dress, which he loved a lot, but was too nervous to say. “yellow.”

you looked up. “like the sunshine, right, j?”

he sighed. “yes, princess, like the sunshine.”

“it’s very warm today. i was tanning earlier. look how much sun i got,” you said. you showed him your arm after gathering a few different strings to put together.”

jj smiled. “cute.”

“so, what did you need my brother for?”

he shrugged. “pogue stuff.”

“i’m a pogue,” you muttered. “why can’t i know?”

“because, honey, it’s secret.” he brushed it off like it was nothing, but you wanted to cry.

your hair was in a half up half down style, one that jj had never seen before on you, with your ends blown out and complimenting your hair color. you noticed he was looking at your hair, which gave you an idea.

“j,” you said, rummaging through your bookbag. “can you tie a bow?”

he shrugged, catching sight of the yellow ribbon you threw onto the grass. “sure, princess, i can.”

“tie one into my hair, please.”

he sighed and you turned around. jj wanted to hold you close to him and cuddle you, but he had self control. he looped the ribbon around the ponytail at the top and began tying as you leaned your back against his chest.

“you’re making it hard for me to tie, here, princess.” he chuckled, having to restart. he had goosebumps from how close you were.

you almost fell asleep. “you’re comfortable, jj.”

he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to leave a trail of kisses from your ear down your neck.

“done,” he said, starting to twirl a few strands as he waited for you to get off of him. “you can sit up now.”

“no,” you shook your head and forced him to lay down, cuddling up to him.

“come on, princess, sit up,” he said, tapping your hip.

“j, i’m comfortable. please?” and for the second time in five minutes, you looked at him with the puppy dog eyes.

he sighed, pushing your head back onto his chest. “remember how john b said you were off limits when you turned 13?”

“yeah? and you said never in a million years would you want me?” you asked.

he winced. he regretted those words every day, wishing he could go back and take them away. “yeah. yeah, that time.”

“what about it?”

“nothing. take a nap, princess. you’ll get even more tan.” he said.

“okay.” you agreed and fell asleep.

* honestly, jj felt like a creep. he’d watched you sleep for at least thirty minutes, but he couldn’t help it. he loved the way your chest rose and fell slowly. but mostly, he loved that you even smiled in your sleep.

jj’s legs were starting to cramp. he couldn’t move without waking you, but he didn’t have a choice. your eyes fluttered open and you turned to him, startled.

“‘m sorry, princess.”

you smiled an ‘it’s okay.’ and sat up. he followed, starting to realize how sweaty he felt. he brushed it off and took a sip from the water bottle that was there.

“jj, that’s mine,” you told him and grabbed it back, drinking it until it was gone.

“someone’s thirsty,” he commentated and jabbed you in the hip.

you giggled, throwing the water bottle at him. “i got to get back to my bracelet,” you said to yourself and went away at knotting .

he watched you contently for five whole minutes before saying, “do you still love the stars?”

you froze. it was something dumb you’d told him when you were eight. you never had expected him to remember, but you nodded. “yeah.”

he grinned, thinking of how cute you would be on a blanket pointing to the little dipper.

“wanna watch them with me tonight?” he asked. he bit his lip, waiting for your answer.

your smile grew wider. “okay.”

he slapped your back, chuckling. “it’s a date then.”

you turned around and have him a thankful look that he wished he could take a picture of in the moment and look at every second of his life.

“jj,” you said, looking past his shoulder. “john b’s back.”

jj would be lying if he said he wasn’t upset. he was bummed that it was no longer the two of you. he was upset that there probably would not be another cuddle session that evening.

to be honest, he’d only realized his feelings for you a few years ago. at least, he’d recognized them. he’d always felt the same about you, but only around three years ago did he realize it was love.

you had loved him knowingly since the first time he held your hand on the way to school while john b walked beside him, defending you from the bigger and meaner kids at school.

you’d always had that puppy love for him.

and he’d always had that puppy love for you.

“right.” jj said back, standing and approaching john b.

he turned around. “stars at my house, okay?”

you smiled and nodded, gripping the grass and ripping a few blades out.

* jj had set out a few pillows and a blanket on the roof of his house. he was quite comfortable on his own, snuggling up into the pillows he slept with every night. he couldn’t get over the fact that soon he would be able to lay his head on a pillow that smelt like you.

after a few minutes of listening to the crickets, he heard footsteps. “jj?”

he sat up and peaked over the edge of the roof. “shh, princess, don’t go inside.”

he watched you look up at him, smiling as you locked eyes with him. your eyes reflected the moon and the stars. they looked no different from how they usually did. well, maybe they did; jj usually saw the whole world in them.

“jj, i can’t get up there,” you whined. he climbed down the ladder and grabbed your hands, smiling at you.

“hi,” he said.

“hi.”

he ordered you to go on his back and you climbed there, fighting your fear of heights. he climbed the ladder with no problem, placing you gently on the fort he’d made. you leaned back and laid down as he laid down next to you.

jj knew how small he made the little circle. he wanted to be as close as possible to you. you loved it, too.

“oh, baby, your ribbon’s all messed up.” jj said, mentally kicking himself for the pet name.

and you mentally kicked yourself for almost fainting at the nickname. he’d never called you that before. “what did you say?”

“i said… i said your ribbon’s all messed up.” jj said nervously.

“before that.”

he hesitated. “baby.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, turning to face him. “i liked it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he helped you sit up as you leaned against his chest and he retied your ribbon for the second time today.

“i like your hair like this, baby.” he said, smiling as you shivered at the nickname.

“thank you,” you said, leaning your head into his neck.

he nodded and kissed your forehead.

what are we? he thought, resting his chin on your head.

you were looking at the sky through the side of your eye and you launched your finger out. “venus.”

“what, baby?” he asked, his attention being drawn back to you.

“i can see venus.” you pointed. he followed your gaze but didn’t see anything. he pretended he did.

“very beautiful, princess.” he said. just like you, he thought.

you nodded, turning back to him and reaching into your pocket of the shorts that were under your dress.

you pulled out a yellow chevron bracelet. the one that you had not finished before he left. it warmed his heart to know that you had not stopped thinking about him when he left.

“you got a gift for me, don’t you, routledge?” he asked, not accidentally holding your hand for a little too long when he grabbed it out of your hand.

“like the sunshine,” you told him, pointing to the yellow.

he grinned. “just like the sunshine, princess.”

“i would love some sunshine right now,” you said.

“i have some,” jj blurred out without thinking.

you raised an eyebrow. “how?”

he couldn’t go back now. “in a way, baby, you are my sunshine.”

you grinned, your face lighting up. he knew the sun was your favorite star in the sky ever since you were eight .

“i’m your sunshine?”

“my sunshine.” he told you, cuddling close to you. “if i’m upset, you make me feel better.”

you didn’t even think about it, but you gave him a kiss. on the lips.

it was something you did a lot—kiss him—but it was usually just on the forehead or on the cheek.

he froze. you sat up. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

but he smashed his lips against yours, drowning you in passion and love.

“i love you, baby.” he told you.

“i love you, too, jj,” you said, smiling wide.

“oh and this bracelet reminds me…” he started, reaching into his pocket. he pulled out a neckless. it was made with clay beads, a type of bead you enjoyed.

it was yellow.

“i made it for you.” he told you as he adjusted it onto your neck.

* a/n: so fluffy

part 2? idrk

[secondbeatsongs]

Hello, you said in some tags in a poll that Speed Racer (2008) is your favorite film. If you’re okay with it, I’d really like to hear more about why you love it. I love the Wachowskis’ work (they’re among my favorite directors), but I kinda ended up bouncing off Speed Racer (2008). So, hearing that it had a real impact on someone makes me very curious why. I’m not interested in criticizing your opinion or arguing with you, I’d just really like to know why you love it in the hopes I might be able to enjoy that movie more in the future.

oh god this is from seven months ago, I'm so sorry - but I do love almost everything about Speed Racer (2008) and I still think about it nearly every day.

I love that it's so bright and colorful and absurd. I love that it's an anime in live action form. and I love that at its heart, it is a story about love.

it's about the mistakes people make out of love, and the consequences of that. it's about the way children grow to understand why the adults around them make the choices they do, and maybe choose to do the same things. it's about taking risks for the people you love, and the pain of failing to change the world, because everything is capitalism and everything hurts.

(and it's also about being transgender btw. like, that's one of the main things about it - it is very much a movie about being transgender)

what if your father's choices hurt your older brother, and your older brother's choices hurt you, and now it's you and your younger brother staring down a future where you're going to end up hurting him by making the same choice?

and then...what if you can escape that? what if the broken parts put themselves back together, and the hope doesn't run out, and you're not alone with the things that haunt you? what then?

and now you're at the end and mistakes were still made, people were still hurt, but everyone's grown and changed and they're different now. and they've figured out that maybe, just maybe, you can change the world by doing something you love, by creating art and beauty and making people feel things.

maybe you really can defeat capitalism by driving a car really fast. and even if everyone thinks you can't...don't you have to try anyway? shouldn't you fight with the skills you have, the only way you know how?

what if it works?

and I'm not even gonna get into most of the Racer X stuff (because I want people to go watch this movie, and most folks probably won't be spoiled for it), but his whole deal is just...everything. I love him.

(if there's a guy from Speed Racer that I want to put in a jar and shake every so often, or maybe wrap in a blanket so he can have a nice nap, it's Racer X. he's a great character. prime blorbo material)

anyway I've been rotating this movie in my head ever since I saw it for the first time, and I think I've seen it...seven? times now? and I still cry at the final race, and I still get blown away by the intro sequence.

(the beginning of the movie is genuinely one of the best things I've ever seen - it does an amazing job of introducing you to the world and the story of the characters, and gets you emotionally invested in it right from the start. it's fantastic filmmaking)

also like. story stuff aside, from a technical standpoint, the movie is a masterpiece. it's the type of thing that people hated when it first came out, but when you look at it now and see how it was made, how it intentionally looks bizarre and cartoonish, plastic and surreal, you can see the exact vision the Wachowskis were going for, and it's brilliant.

the way they did the visual effects, the way they made the outdoor scenes feel so detailed, the way the driving and the tracks work - they put so much thought into that, and the behind-the-scenes vids show how cool their process was.

also uhhh cars go vroom, crash into each other, flip upside down, explode, maybe have bees and hammers in them sometimes?

(the above is me complimenting the unhinged vibe of the races themselves, which I love very much)

anyway I could make other full posts about the script of the film and how much I love it, or the cool side characters, or the fanfic potential of the amazing world of the film, or how I can prove that it's set in 1991...but I guess if anyone wants those rants, they'll just have to watch the film and then come talk to me. :)

(please. please come talk to me about Speed Racer.)

so, yeah! I kinda lost my mind there and made this post way longer than I intended, but I do feel strongly affected by this movie, and I hope this has helped explain why.

[rui-drawsbox]

Ruri x Baxter posting! Many stuff after the cut cuz I'm gonna say random facts about Ruri

They are SO in love with each other honestly what's wrong with them

Also in game moments where i think Baxter started to/ fell harder for the MC, i added a badump everytime cuz i thought it was funny

Gonna reblog this one with the zoom ins later

Random Ruri facts!

If IF Derek confessed between steps 2 and 3 she totally 100% no doubt wouldve fell for him at the moment, but he didn't so rip🥺

The only thing she wanted as a teen was someone that showed her some interest (she had Derek! But was always oblivious bc she thought it was in a friend way)

↑also main reason of why the mysterious soiree boy stuck on her head so long, the leg compliment was so random and unprompted that she made a whole novel inside her head the rest of the evening lmao

Not very smart, academically sucks, passed the last high school years cheating (and with some of Cove's help)

Mainly cheating bc on her reinforcement classes after school she had this "friend group" of older and problematic kids that adopted her like the pet of the gang (she was like 15 and the others like 18-19)

Never really got her into big problems but she became disturbingly skilled with knifes and at throwing things bigger than her head

If the mean not-grandparents made Cove cry when they were a little older than ten she wouldve throw a rock at their window

A hopeless romantic, also a hopeless idiot

You know how we can tell Cove that we found an animal skull on the beach once in Ghost? Well she kept it and named it Ramón (because I have an animal skull in my room I found on the beach and I named it Ramón)

Found a new confidence after she had to move out with Cove, things about being a responsable adult and such

Main love language is physical touch! Second is quality time

Romantic inclination? Whatever that likes her back tbh (became pretty picky after step 3 but it's bc she never got over Baxter). Sexual inclination? Her beloved partner

A night owl that tried to keep up with an early bird (Cove), that's why she has more droppy eyes and eyebags in step4, she's always at her 70%

Cove relatioship was nervous fond at steps 1-2 and relaxed fond at steps 3 and 4 (they're family!). And Baxter was nervous crush at step 3 and direct love in step 4

Scared of driving cars so she has moto in step4! Baxter think is hot (Trust me, he told me)

[thezombieprostitute]

Lloyd Hanson - Soulmate AU

A/N: I swear, I tried to ignore him but that only made things worse. @alicedopey didn't help!

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Reader is kidnapped. Smut. Sub/Dom dynamics vs Dub Con?

The bag is removed from your head and you're finally able to get a look at your surroundings. It's a dark room with one light above the table. It looks like one of those police interrogation rooms in TV shows. The duct tape is ripped from your mouth and you hiss from the pain. You test the bonds around your wrists, tied behind your back, but they're too secure to wiggle out of.

The chair across from you is abruptly pulled back and you're face to face with a tall, broad, blue eyed man with a porn mustache. He's smiling at you. You say nothing, letting your confusion show on your face. He rolls up his shirt sleeve and you see his soulmate tattoo. It's an exact match for yours.

"You couldn't have just bought me a coffee," you ask, trying to keep from snapping.

"Sweetheart," he coos, "you're my soulmate. I have to get you used to what the rest of your life is going to be."

You raise an eyebrow at that, "I'm going to constantly be kidnapped and talk with over-the-top idiots?"

He laughs at your comeback, "not quite. But I do have a lot of enemies and I gotta make sure my soulmate doesn't panic, cry and rat me out if they get picked up." He leans forward and rests his arms on the table. "And I gotta say, you are a champ!"

"I'm good at getting kidnapped," you deadpan. "What a wonderful compliment."

"Not easily scared, sassy and sarcastic," he croons. "You really are my soulmate." He winks and you roll your eyes.

"How did you find me," you ask. "I rarely, if ever, let my soulmate tattoo show."

"Someone used a rare photo of your mark to draw me in," he admits. "Imagine my surprise when it was someone trying to kill me."

"And from there you were able to find me," you nod. "Any chance of untying me, now that you know I'm not trying to kill you?"

"I dunno," he leers, "I'm kinda getting hard at the thought of you being so helpless to stop me."

"I swear to whatever deity will listen, I can and will bite you. Literally and metaphorically."

"Metaphorically?"

"The reason you like me being tied up is because your limp dick needs to feel like it's actually capable of leaving some kind of imprint."

"Ouch!" He moves his hand over his heart, "you weren't kidding, Sunshine. That really hurt!" He leaned forward even more, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "do it again."

"The only reason you don't shave your mustache is because you enjoy getting looks from people because you're a needy man-baby who needs the attention."

"Ooooh, that feels so good," he leans back, chuckling. He makes a motion and someone comes up behind you and undoes your bindings.

"Thank you," you nod, rubbing your wrists.

"Ah, I was wondering where the niceness was." You raise your eyebrow again, silently asking him what he meant. "You work with people a lot and always get such glowing customer service reviews. That means you can at least pretend to be nice. But when I dig further, I find that you're a good neighbor who helps the old lady carry in her groceries. Helps the kiddies with their homework. All that wholesome stuff."

"I have social skills," you retort. "Kinda required for the job."

"You don't have a job anymore." You don't try to hide your surprise at that statement. His tone goes stern for the first time, "I can't have my soulmate wasting her time on other people. All of that goodness you do for others? You're gonna do it for me and only me from now on. I get to be the only outlet for your kindness and you're gonna pamper me every time I'm home."

“No I'm not.”

“Excuse you? I don’t see that you have much of a choice here Sweetie.”

“Not my fault you lack the imagination to see my options.” 

“Your options are to either tend to my every want and need or wallow in a basement on starvation rations.” You smile at him and enjoy the momentary drop in his confidence. “You will give me everything I want. In return, I’ll give you everything money can buy.” You throw your head back and laugh at that. He’s squirming a little, wondering what the hell is going on.

“You can have my submission when you earn it,” you coo. “And you don’t earn it by buying it.” You lean forward, putting yourself in his personal space. 

“What the hell is going on?”

You roll up your sleeve to show Lloyd the matching soulmate tattoo and put your arm next to his. At the first touch of your hand, you both feel the electricity that confirms the two halves have met. You reach out and gently rub his cheek with your hand and he leans into it, gently moaning before he catches himself. 

“You see, even though I don’t know your name, I can see right through you. Your reactions to my snipes and my politeness were quite telling. You do crave attention but you’ve only ever been good at getting negative attention. A soulmate could give you that positive attention you long for. Why else would you actually come looking for me? You could keep up that attention seeking behaviour without involving me but you put yourself at risk for the chance at meeting someone who might be kind to you. Who might like you, if only because they have to.”

“My name is Lloyd,” he grumbles.

“Thank you, Lloyd. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but you definitely started on the wrong foot.” 

He goes silent but he doesn’t stop your hand rubbing his cheek. He wants to be angry at you. He wants to follow through on his display of force. But he can’t do that. He makes another hand motion and a door opens. He stands up, comes around the table and lifts you up out of your chair. 

“I don’t appreciate not being in control, Sweetheart,” he growls at you. “I may want all of your affection but I will not hesitate to use force if you try to take control from me ever again.”

“As I said, you can have my submission when you’ve earned it.”

“And how do I do that? You turned down my offer of everything money can buy.”

“Treat me like a queen or goddess, not a pet.”

Lloyd takes a deep breath and starts walking towards the door, taking you with him. You manage to keep pace as he leads you through several hallways, up some stairs and finally emerging into, what you can easily assume to be, a mansion. He doesn’t stop to let you take too close of a look. He leads up the wide staircase, to a set of double doors. He pushes them open and you see a giant, canopy bed. You also see things that, while you can’t name them, you're pretty sure they’re meant for BDSM activities. 

He pulls you towards him, wrapping you in his arms, and forces your face up to look at him. “You’re not the only one who can read people, Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You enjoy being a bratty, submissive slut. You want someone who can properly dominate you, satisfy that craving your cunt aches for.”

He walks you to the bed as he keeps talking, “you always tried to hide your tattoo because it was your one rebellion against a world that makes you feel helpless. You are kind to your neighbors because you’re too stubborn to let your customer service job kill your soul.”

He pushes you onto all fours on the bed and smacks your ass. “And your unusual calm at being kidnapped? You expect the world to fuck you over.” He smacks your ass again and you bite back a moan. “You expect things to be out of your control so you don’t sweat it when you’re proven right.” He smacks your ass a few more times and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. As soon as he hears it he chuckles. “You don’t want to be treated like a pet? Fine.” He spanks you again. “But I won’t treat you like a goddess or a queen.” Another slap. “I’m gonna treat you like the dirty slut you’ve always wanted to be.” Another slap. “And I’ll make sure you never feel you have to be more than just the cock hungry whore you really are.” 

The spanking continues, hard, fast and painful, until your arms give out. Lloyd reaches his arms around you and pulls you up so that your back is flush against his muscular chest. One hand holds you up by your neck. His other hand reaches under your clothes and smirks at how wet you are. He gathers up some of the slick and starts rubbing circles over your clit. You start whining and gasping at the sensations but you don’t dare move your hips. You’re certain he’ll stop if you do anything he doesn’t tell you to and you don’t want this to stop. 

He whispers in your ear, “so long as you never try to wrestle control from me again, I’ll treat how you really want to be treated.” His fingers move faster and you whimper from how close you are. “Not like a queen or a goddess, no. Not a pet, either.” You’re focused on not moving, trying to make sure that his fingers continue to work their magic. “I’ll treat you like my dirty little slut who will do anything so long as I let her cum.” 

His grip on your neck tightens and he whispers, “cum for me.” Your orgasm hits you harder than you ever thought possible. He keeps his fingers moving as he whispers “such a good slut.” As the ecstasy ebbs your legs start shaking and he lays you down on your back. 

Lloyd licks his fingers and moans appreciatively. He pulls off your pants and underwear, whistling appreciatively at the mess you’ve made of your panties. You try to lift yourself on your elbows but he pushes you back down. “You move when I tell you to, Sweetheart,” he orders, his tone making you whimper. He winks at you, “now let me show you the real reason I keep this mustache.”

[rekino2114]

Cute things the drdt girls do for you

A/n:episode 15 was pretty great, I might post my full thoughts on it and chapter 2 as a whole next week when it ends maybe

Teruko tawaki

Follows the sidewalk rule

The sidewalk rule says that when two people are walking on the sidewalk the one who is stronger and/or can take a hit better is the one who walks near the traffic, and teruko follows it...only with you

She has actually been hit by cars before because of her luck (you were very concerned when she randomly dropped that in the middle of a conversation) so protecting you from that is her main priority

She kinda does it subconsciously, gently gripping your wrist and guiding you on the right side, when you ask her why she did that she just blushes and blurts out "I don't want you to get hit by a car"

She actually did get hit when she was with you once but you were unharmed while teruko had to go to the hospital

"I'm so so sorry teru, I should have been more careful"

"Don't worry, at least you're ok, plus this isn't the worst accident that ever happened to me"

"........You're literally covered in bandages and casts"

"Yeah and?"

You start to think her luck actually works because of how she can survive stuff like that

Min jeung

Writes love letters

Min spends a lot of her time writing, be it papers, notes or her schedule. Writing is a big part of her day-to-day life, but what she loves writing the most is definitely love letters for you

Her grammar and handwriting are impeccable, even her punctuation is on point. The only way you can tell that it's a love letter and not an English essay is because of the heart drawn at the bottom

There doesn't have to be a specific reason for her to write you a letter sometimes she just feels like doing it, and you love receiving them,they're a written testament of her love for you

Sometimes they're in really cute envelopes with stamps and everything. she loves seeing your reaction to reading them

"Hello y/n, I have written this to inform you that unfortunately, I won't be able to hang out with you today as I have an important test, feel free to come to my dorm at around 7 pm though, I should have finished by then, I know I could have texted you this but a letter is more romantic don't you think?

Love you

Min jeung" ♡

P.s.:If you see Charles, do you mind telling him thanks for helping me in chemistry? He was a great help

P.p.s.:Yes, don't worry, I'll remember to take breaks, I know how you get if I don't

Arei nageishi

beats up people for you

Ok, it's more than that. It's more how she treats you compared to other people. She's way nicer to you compared to everyone else. Sure, she still teases, throws light insults at you, but you know she doesn't actually mean it...unlike with everyone else (except eden)

She's more than ok with people insulting her. She's used to it by now, and she can easily verbally abuse the person until they cry, but when someone insults you then they truly fucked up

She'll be smiling and giggling with you while the unconscious and bloody body of the person who was unfortunate or stupid enough to say anything negative about you is near her .....you didn't even know she was that strong but now you're kinda scared of her even if you know she'd never hurt you

She also kinda does it to receive compliments and praise for you, she expects you to be flattered and in awe at what she did for you, which you are, but you're also too worried about her to really compliment her

"Not everyone likes you, you're not y/n"

"Not everyone likes y/n"

"......names"

"......What?"

"Give me names bitch, I'll shut their mouth for good when I find them"

Hu jing

Makes you packed lunches

Listen, we all know how much of a mom this girl is. She practically adopted nico. and as her partner, you're definitely on the receiving end of her motherly tendencies

She scolds you when you don't clean your dorm,constantly sends you texts to make sure you're ok, and always checks during the day to make sure you've eaten enough and the best way to assure that is making you lunch herself

Everything always tastes great and incredibly fresh (definitely way better than what the school gives you), but you still feel kinda embarrassed. Even when you try to reject it, she'll try to feed you to make sure you eat. She also definitely wipes your mouth when you're finished

She also writes you a cute note saying things like "hope you have a great day, remember to stay hydrated and study hard" which......doesn't make that much sense since you always eat together in the cafeteria and she's literally standing near you as you read the note but it's so adorable you don't carea

"Come on Darling, you need to eat, don't you like what I made for you?"

"N-no it's not that hu, it's......embarrassing"

"Y/n l/n if you don't eat that, I'll make you....even if it's embarrassing, you still need to eat enough"

"......o-ok"

".....you too huh?"

"Hi nico.......yeah"

J rosales

Gives you her hoodie

Most of her classmates have seen j without her hoodie only on rare occasions, unlike you who have seen her like that multiple times

It's often when it's cold outside, j notices and takes off her hoodie to give it to you, you're very surprised and ask her if it's OK since she'll be cold too then but she just dismisses it and says that you're more important

If you compliment her on how pretty and cool she looks without it on, especially how beautiful her hair looks (I genuinely really love her hair, it looks so cool), she'll blush a lot and maybe ask for her hoodie back so she can hide her face in it (like she does in her sprite)

She'll actually start to wear her hood down more after you compliment her hair enough, because she secretly wants you to do it more but is too embarrassed to ask

"You sure about this j? Won't you get cold?"

"Nah, it's fine, if it really gets cold, I'll just put another one on"

"Cool, thanks so much babe"

"You're welcome"

".....did i mention your hair is pretty?"

"*blushes* y-yeah this is like the fifth time you said it"

"Sorry I can't help it if it's true"

Veronika grebenshchikova

Gifts you plushies

......kinda, it's more accurate to say she gifts you what once were plushies. Some have their heads ripped off, others are covered in blood with one of their eyes missing, it's creepy but sweet...in a Veronika way

Sometimes, she doesn't even give you the plushies directly. They just..... appear on your bed, the only way you can tell Veronika was the one to leave them is because only she would and could do something like this.....you still have no idea how she gets in your dorm but are too afraid to ask

She also gives you plushie and merchandise of every horror movie you can think of. One time she gave you a very haunted looking doll, like the one from Annabelle, and you could have sworn you saw it move at night

When you have movie night at your dorm (which happens very often), Veronika likes to snuggle with both you and all the plushies in your bed as you do the same, it's actually really comfortable

"*sigh* I hate group projects"

"Come on, teruko, I'm sure we'll get it done fast"

"Whatev-.......WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Oh those are the plushies Veronika gives me, aren't they cute?"

"1;NO THEY AREN'T 2: that's not what i meant.....WHY THE HELL IS VERONIKA IN YOUR ROOM?"

"Oh hi vero"

"HI darling, I just wanted to put this new plushie I got you in here"

".......the door was locked, y/n just opened it, how did you get here?"

"Oh yeah she does that, I don't know either"

"*giggle*"

"......You two are deranged"

Rose lacroix

Remembers everything about you

Ok, she remembers everything, period, but that's especially true for you. Any date that is important to you, like a birthday or a special event (like your first kiss) instantly becomes important to her too the moment you mention it, and she'll most likely give you gifts for them

Any food you like and dislike as well as any possible allergies you have are always on her mind when you're eating together, she could even order for you at restaurants if you want, she knows your tastes perfectly after all

Any gifts she gives you always is something you like, no matter if you just mentioned it once to her she remembered and got it for you, there doesn't even need to be a special date for it, sometimes she just feels like it and gifts you something

Unlike basically everything else, your information, likes, and dislikes are actually things she wants to remember and willingly keeps them in her mind. She loves you, so all of this is extremely important information to her

"Hey y/n, do you like this? I just finished painting it, take it"

"Oh it looks great, but why do you want to give it to me? It's not my birthday or anything"

"Oh no, I know, but it is your mom's birthday isn't it? I wanted to give it to her so she'd think I'm a good girlfriend"

"Oh OK....yeah it is. How did you know?"

"You told me, I think it was about.....three months ago, we were talking our families and you brought that up"

"You remembered that, that's so cool"

"Eh, I guess perfect memory comes with some pros....sometimes"

[heavenlyysstuff]

Flower Girl

NETEYAM.s x fem! omatikaya! reader

summary . Whenever in battle, he always had someone to fight for, and he was always going to return to her at the end of the day.

language . syulang ‘ flower . sevin ‘ pretty

a/n . I apologise for the no content recently, kinda lacking ideas rn, so feel free to drop any idea you have in my asks!

The war cry’s and yelps of his people around him became a blur, the sky people relentlessly try to kick at their defence.

Since the loss of home tree, the Omatikaya never seemed to know peace again, not with these creatures invading their land and homes.

Neteyam can only watch from afar as his people fight for what’s theirs, set with the task of being a watcher, making sure to alert his father for any more incoming sky people.

He wants to fight, protect his land… the ones he loves. But he knows that at his age, war shouldn’t be something he should have to prepare and participate in.

He can see the difference between the numbers in his people and them. It looks like they are winning this battle, but at what cost?

He knows his people will be leaving with scars, bruises and cuts, he just hopes he can help his family stay clean.

“We gotta get down there bro!” Neteyam hears his brother beside him on his own ikran.

“Dad will skin us.” His reply is stern, and in Neteyam’s mind he knows any of what happens to his brother in the next few moments, it will be up to him to take the blame.

Lo’am shakes of his worry with a tilt of the head and his ikran soars down onto the battlefield.

“Lo’ak! You…Ughhh…” Neteyam yells out, grunting at his brother’s rebelliousnes, but also commands his ikran to chase down his brother.

Back at camp, you help to organise some herbs you and other apprentice heaters had gathered.

Your fingers brush through each herb and help to put them into its designated bowl. You and the other young women have created a circle around a total of 5 bowls, each of them sorting through their own sections of herbs.

Not only did this job help the people of the clan, it helped that the apprentices were always chatty, and when you bring a handful of chatty young women into one place, information is bound to spread.

The women frequently discuss any of the latest happenings in the clan, usually small playful stuff, it helped to keep the group entertained.

You never did much talking, only listened, occasionally giving your thoughts when asked but you don’t mind much, you’re more of a thinker, so when working you usually just zone out into your own little world.

“Aah, Y/n… you have more of those in your hair.” A passing female states when handing a bowl of salve to another woman, she crouches behind you and begins to peck at your hair with her fingers.

“Ayyie.” You lift your hands to shield your hair and lean forward. “I like it like this…” she giggled behind you and gives your hair one minor adjustment before standing up to move around the circle.

“It is quite pretty you have to admit, Ayyie.” Another girl in the group says while looking up from her work. “I just don’t know how you do it everyday, Y/n.”

“The reaction she gets from Neteyam every time seems to keep her going.” Another states, and the circle begins giggling at the fact.

You bring your head down to avoid the confrontation, heat pools at your cheeks and your tail is brought high up next to you. “What are you talking about.” You reply rhetorically.

She giggles more at your clearly flustered reaction, “oh nothing just how he always compliments it and that smile you have all day when he does.” This causes hums of agreement and laughter to flow through everyone in the circle.

“He doesn’t…it’s not like that.” Your words contradict your actions, as your tail sways hurriedly behind you, ears pinning to the sides of your head which of course makes the women around you giggle to each other.

“Oh leave her alone, she can hardly think about him without getting so worked up.” Tee’ron spills out half in your defends half to tease you.

You decide it’s be best if you just stopped talking to avoid getting deeper into your pit of embarrassment, you keep your head down and continue sorting through herbs.

The girls remain giggling for a bit before Tee’ron puts a hand on your shoulder, “sorry, Y/n.” She says in a between quiet laughs, quick to calm her breathing.

“The war party is back!”

Those words were what broke you out of your working frenzy, immediately your head shoots to look outside and your ears perk up.

You are first to stand from the circle of women, hastily making your way outside the hut and out to see the returning warriors, to see him.

You walk slowly and look at every man and woman in hopes to find him, and once you look forward, he’s there.

You wanted to run to him, but with seeing him came seeing his father, and the rest of his family. You didn’t know weather to get any closer, but you decided to take the chance.

You slowly walk towards him, and once close enough you can hear the tone of his fathers voice when speaking to him, he seemed to tone it down once Neytiri spoke though.

You don’t think Neteyam noticed you when you stood behind him, but his father certainly did “Y/n, could you help Kiri with the wounded.” He tilts his head to gesture to his daughter who stood on the other side of Neteyam.

“Neteyam is wounded.” You speak with a somewhat sharp tone, your quick to bite your tongue though and quickly lower your eyes to look to the side.

The Olo’eyktan sighs and looks between you and his son, “go on then.”

You can see Neteyam’s shoulders visibly relax and you bring a hand to grasp his arm, pulling it to lead him away from his family and toward an empty healing hut.

On the way you look behind you, only to meet Neteyam’s mothers eyes. You could never really read that woman, mostly silent and stern. The look in her eyes was nothing new though, she looked between you and her son and a small smile crept out of her, you didn’t see it for too long, as you turn to guide Neteyam into the hut.

You let go of his arm and he instinctively takes a seat of the ground close to the herbs set next to him.

He slowly sits down with one leg sprawled out and the other perched closer to his chest, hissing at the strain the movements cause him.

“Shhh..” you’re quick to calm him, coming close to his side and placing a bowl of salve informer of you. He glances at you before looking back down to the ground in front of him, and he goes silent. Tilting your head, you ask “how bad was it?” While scanning over his form to take in any hidden injuries.

He rolls his shoulder and fixes his posture, “could’ve been worse, I suppose.” He huffs, and fixes his gaze on you. “Hey,” he tilts his head, raising a hand to poke at your hair, “where’d you get these ones?”

You move your own hand up to you hair, grasping his hand in the process, “secret.” He scoffs at your reply and looks offended.

“I’ve been almost everywhere in this forest, I’ll find them soon enough.” He brings your clasped hands down to rest on his knee. You only smirk and roll your eyes. “Sevin syulang.”

You hum at his words, “yea I thought so to.” Agreeing with his words, without thinking he may not have been talking about the flowers… “let me fix you up, okay?”

He huffs in fake annoyance, but smiles once you lather salve onto a wound on his shoulder, your hands warm to the touch.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hands gliding against his slightly scarred skin, feeling as you make your way from his arms, massaging the muscles up to his shoulders.

Then to his face, where you apply smaller amounts of ointment to the wounds. Your hands gliding across his forehead and along the bridge of his nose, under his chin.

He opens his eyes, and realised how much closer you’ve come, only a small distance between your two faces, but he can still feel the slight circular motions you continue on a scar across his jawline.

Exhaling slowly in thought, he grabs your hand to pause your movements, causing you to look into his eyes with what at first was confusion, quickly turning into a realisation.

You both stay eyes locked on each others for a moment, Neteyam’s unoccupied hand coming up to caress your own cheek, the both of you leaning into the others palms.

In what felt like forever, the two of you get closer, eyes dropping low and foreheads touching. Your eyes drop before he follows, heads tilting in sync and lips finally touching, a gentle and passionate kiss shared.

Pulling away slowly for breath, and then moving back in for another in usion, the two of you entranced by each others touch and addicted to the feeling of your hearts beating together.

After three long and loving kisses, foreheads part and you both slowly open your eyes to what had been in front of you all along.

“I see you, Y/n.” Neteyam speaks after quietly catching his breath, bringing you closer into an embrace, arms around your waist to lift you into his lap.

You relax into his body, arms coming up to wrap around his neck and shoulders, “I see you, Neteyam.”