#i do i promise bur

[good-vs-evo]

another day another WHY WASNT FENGLIAN CANON EVER FOR EVEN A MOMENT

[sixpigeonz]

.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

oaugh.

[plumipal]

Meet Eden (TWST OC)

Yall were so supportive on my silly oc ill actually do a showcase on them. Hope yall like him!

Meet Eden, the second (third if you count grim) member of the ramshackle dorm! Another anomaly in space and time cased him to end up in the sorting sermony just like the prefect, unlike the prefect though he actually has his own sort of magic. The school does not count his magic as actual magic with how differently it works from theirs, rendering his magic useless during lessons (this does not mean he is weak, he can pack quite the punch with his magic).

He finds comfort in you (the prefect), as you both are from different worlds. He refuses to tell tou about his universe, bur he will gladly litsen to you talk about yours. With his unique appearance, he is hard to miss, making lots of people question what he truly is (he, of course, refuses to tell them). The piercing eyes he has are quite terrifying, making most people keep their distance from him.

They take advantage of being so close to you (by being in the same dorm), making the other students jealous. He also uses the "we are both people from different universes" to his advantage on the students too 🤭

He actually has a lot of tattoos, some looking quite creepy with how many eyes there are on him. With the lack of breathing and heart you are quite sure he is not human, but what is he...?

Also have the glorious masquerade outfit I made for him

... GUYS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ASK FOR OR ABOUT HIM THEY ARE SUCH A SILLY LITTLE THING I PROMISE PLEASE- HE HAS THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON THE PREFECT ALRIGHT ANOTHER YAN TO THE TWST CHAOTIC STUDENT HAREM

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Eight

Summary: It’s been nearly four days since Y/n had collapsed, and she still hadn’t woken. Azriel won’t leave her side, he can’t, no matter how worried his family is.

Warnings: none really, kind of a shorter chapter

Series Masterlist

Another day had passed, Azriel refused to leave her room, he sat in the chair by her bedside and would not move no matter how much his family pestered him. Rhys had forced him to at least put some clothes on, but other than that, he’d stayed right at her bedside and spoke to her, feeling the pulse in her wrist flutter each time, feeling that evidence that she was still there. He read to her out of one of the books on her night stand, obvious gifts from Nesta. He struggled through some chapters, face warm, others he skipped entirely.

“Dinner is served,” Mor struts into the room, a tray balanced in her hands, “I can watch over her while you eat and take a damned bath.”

He frowns up at her, “I don’t-“

“Yes you do,” she sniffs pointedly, “You’ve been bed ridden for two days and haven’t bathed once since you woke. She won’t go anywhere, I promise.”

Azriel looks at the female in question, her lips were slightly turned down at the edges, like she could hear them and wasn’t happy to have him leave, “Fine.”

As soon as the word is out of him mouth, he hears running water in the attached bathroom, it seems the house was sick of him stinking up the place. He sighs, carefully standing up from the chair, shaking his head when Mor moved into casual reach incase he fell.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

“I don’t doubt that,” she sighs, rolling her eyes at him, “at least take the time to wash your hair.”

Azriel doesn’t respond as he closes the door behind him, sighing through his nose as he rest against it. There was this strange anxiety in him, even though Y/n was just on the other side of the wall. Watched over by one of his closest friends. The female he’d spent centuries believing he was in love with, and the female he, he didn’t know what it was he felt for. There was this feeling in him, this feeling of desperation when she’d been in danger, before that when she was about to leave him, when he’d seen her cry beneath the stars. Not love, gods he’d known her less than a week, but there was something, something there. A string of shadow connecting them together, one he refused to let go of. Whatever it was, he wonders if the swirling eddies of the cauldron, or the mysterious force of the Wyrd, that brought her here, right to him.

With Quinlann, it had been the blades, Gwydion and Truth Teller, calling to each other from across the stars. When she’d opened the portal between realms, they found each other. But with Y/n, there wasn’t a reason, there was no mysterious object, no intent. Simply a portal that had torn her from her home and thrown her into his path. He’d spent the last day pondering about it, about why exactly she was brought here, brought to him, and he’d come up with nothing but blanks.

Azriel forces himself to focus on the bath before him, to get in and out as quickly as possible so he could get back to her. The water was lukewarm, like the house knew he wasn’t ready to feel the heat. His bandages had been changed early in the day by Madja, the burn on his chest had been the worst of the damage, the imprint of Y/n’s shoulders burned into him from holding her to him. It would heal, there may be the faintest scar, a darker, rougher patch of skin. He found that he didn’t mind it, that he’d be left with that permanent memory of her, even when she finally found her way home.

He scrubs methodically, using the same lavender scented bar of soap on his hair and his body, not bothering with the bottles of soaps lining the edge of the bath. He submerges his entire body, wings included to rinse off, and he’s up and drying off quickly.

The house provides him with a comfortable set of black sleep clothes, loose fitting shirt to not irritate the burns. He dresses without thought, quickly buttoning the shirt around his wings as he moves towards the door.

“Record time,” Mor says as he walks into the room, “I’m surprised you bothered with a towel, instead of shaking out like a dog.”

He rolls his eyes, taking his seat beside Y/n. She hadn’t moved at all, he hadn’t expected her to, her lips would sometimes twitch in her sleep, but that was the only movement he’d seen.

“She’s not going to disappear,” Mor says gently, “You can rest for a while.”

Azriel knew that, knew that if he crossed the hall and collapsed into bed like his body begged him to do, she was would be right here where he left her. But he couldn’t do it, not until she was awake and he could see those eyes, see that insufferable smile, hear her soft accent. He was a desperate fool.

“I’m fine,” he says, “thank you for the food.”

Mor frowns, “I’m worried about you.”

“I know-“

“No I don’t think you do,” she snaps, arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t know what happened between you two, I don’t want to know, but I can’t stand to see you fall apart over a female you hardly even know.”

“Nothing happened between us.” It’s the truth but somehow it feels like a lie on his tongue, “I don’t expect you to understand it, I don’t even understand it.”

“I’ve had lovers in the past, hell I pined after you for centuries.” Azriel doesn’t miss the way she flinches, he’d never actually said the words aloud, “but this is different, she’s just different. She’s not my lover, I don’t love her, I just- I don’t- When I saw her there, trapped in that spell, it felt like someone was carving my heart from my chest with a dull knife, hacking through skin and bones and ripping the thing out.”

He shudders, looking down at Y/n, whatever this was, gods he didn’t know, he didn’t want to know, he just wanted her to wake up.

Azriel feels a slight pressure on his shoulder, Mor’s hand resting there in gentle reassurance, “She’ll wake up.”

“I hope so.”

Azriel wasn’t sure what exactly woke him up, the pain in his back from being slumped over in his chair, his shadows frantically swirling around him, or the hand that gently twines through his hair. His half asleep brain decides the feeling is very very nice and he almost goes right back to sleep.

“Are you alive over there, shadowsinger? It’d be a shame if you weren’t.”

That soft swirling accent washes over him like the warm surf of the summer court. It has him launching up out of his chair, eyes wide and staring at the female who sits up in the spot she’d laid for the past three almost four days. Her face was washed in silvery moonlight from the window, hair a tangled mess on her head, her eyes wide and warm with the fire in her blood, gods she was beautiful.

He’s surging forward before he can even think that it might be a bad idea. Her face is warm, soft between his scarred hands, and her lips feel like heaven as he crashes his mouth to hers.

Her hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer and he could die right then and there. Their lips move in tandem, tongues and teeth clashing in desperation. He can feel her sharp canines, the way they drag on his lower lip, she could tear him to pieces with them and, Mother above, he would let her.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” He pulls back just enough to growl against her, “Don’t you dare, princess.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, shadowsinger,” she grins against his lips, that insufferable little smile, “it’ll ruin your whole dark brooding warrior image.”

“Shut up.”

She barely has the time to laugh before his lips cover hers again. Azriel’s shadows writhe around them, pulling her closer and closer till she’s practically sitting in his lap. His hands grip her waist, so hard that he’s sure she’ll have bruises in the shape of them. Her hands are tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands in a way that has Azriel purring. Everywhere she touched left him burning, burning with desire for more, more, more.

He’s moving, lips trailing across her jaw and down the side of her throat, he can feel her heart racing, maybe that was his own. Her head falls back, giving his better access to her throat. She lets out a breathless sigh when his teeth graze that sensitive spot, and Azriel wants to hear that noise again and again and again.

“Az,” she gasps, fingers digging into his shoulders like she’s trying to ground herself, “I, gods, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but hold on.”

It takes more effort than it should to pull away, to look into her eyes without begging her to let him keep going, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, this is amazing,” she sighs, “more than that. I just- I need a minute.”

Azriel sees that look in her eyes, that broken heart behind a wall of ice, “Whatever you need, princess.”

Her head falls, hiding, “I failed, Az. I- I did everything the books said, and I fucked it up.”

His heart squeezes in his chest, and he can’t help but to tug her into his arms. She collapses into him, face buried in the silk of his shirt and she cries. Those silent heavy tears, so Azriel holds her tight as she cries and cries and cries.

Y/n feels warm, safe, there’s a comforting weight across her waist, a hard wall behind her.

Her eyes open, blinking at the bright sunlight streaming through her window. It must be late morning, it had been the middle of the night when she’d woke, finding her hand clasped in Azriel’s, the male himself asleep in the most uncomfortable position possible.

When she’d seen him there, moonlight dancing over his features, she thought he was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen. It felt like her hand moved on its own, raking through those black strands of hair, the slight curl to them tickling her palm.

She’d felt him stirr, felt the way he’d pushed into her hand like a cat seeking attention. It was incredibly cute, which is something she was sure had never been used to describe the spy master.

When he’d realized she was awake, when he’d looked into her eyes, she’d seen the utter desperation behind his whiskey eyes. And when his lips had fallen onto hers, she felt it too. He kissed like a man starved, like she was his last meal and he was going to savor every bite of her. He kissed her like she meant something, like she was worth worshipping. Gods she wanted him to do just that, to take her for all she was worth, to ravish her until she was screaming. But then his teeth had caressed the side of her neck, her pulse racing beneath, and she felt herself slipping, felt the memories slam into her, of the matching scars her parents wore proudly on their necks, of the burning words in her throat, of the spell that had taken control of her and had tried to swallow her whole.

She felt everything crashing into her all at once, and when Azriel had looked at her, nothing but understanding in his eyes, she broke. She must have cried herself to sleep, to be waking up near noon.

Y/n froze as the wall behind her shifted, a body, she realized, that weight across her waist, an arm. Azriel.

She glances over her shoulder, finding the sleeping male. He held her close, face tucked into her shoulder. He made no noise, just soft breathing, lips slightly parted. They were laying beneath the knitted blanket that was usually folded by the foot of the bed, like he hadn’t wanted to wake her to get her beneath the covers.

Y/n shifts, gently trying to lift his arm so that she could escape to the bathroom, but the second she tried, his arm tightens and she’s pulled back against his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Gods spare her, his voice was deep and rasping in her ear. Her eyes look back over her shoulder and she’s met by those hazel eyes, still heavy with sleep. His gaze feels like a brand, like he was taking in all of her, like he was planning to claim her in every way possible.

“The bathroom preferably,” she says, throwing in as much snarky energy as possible to hopefully hide the way her face was heating.

He sighs, “I suppose that’s fine.”

“You suppose?” She scoffs, pushing the heavy arm still wrapped around her waist, “Let go of me you overgrown bat.”

He holds tighter for just a second, “You wound me, princess.”

“You’ll get over it.” She slips out from beneath his hold, “Keep your wandering shadows to yourself, I’m going to bathe, I smell like death.”

Azriel looks at her with predatory focus, resting on his elbows so he can look her up and down, “Hm, I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” she rolls her eyes, “Keep them out, I’ll be back.”

Azriel settles back into the pillows, eyes watching each step she takes into the room beyond. She can still feel his gaze when she shuts the door behind her, heavy and burning.

The bath is already filled with steaming water, clothes and towels laid out for her. She thanks the house quietly, slipping out of her tattered clothes and into that hot water.

Her head tilts back, a quiet moan slipping past her lips at the feeling, her body sore from whatever had taken control during the spell, and then even more from laying in bed for the past several days. She takes her time, washing every spot of herself to rid that scent of smoke. Her hair takes longer, tangled and brittle, she uses half the bottle of the sweet smelling soap.

All of her movements are precise, methodical, to keep her brain and hands busy. Because if she stops for to long, her mind is ripped back to that room, to the yawning portal of darkness, that presence on the other side beckoning, whispering, playing with her. What ever it was, ancient and cold, dark and cruel, she felt it reaching for her. And at the same time she’d felt another pull, one from behind, one begging her to stay, to let go of the gods damned book. A string, a lifeline, a way back. She’d cling to that, and let it pull her out.

But still, on the other side of that portal she heard a whisper, a voice young and old, pay the price, gods killer’s kin, pay the price.

Tag list - If you would like to be added to the list please send me an ask or message me❣︎

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[nu1lst4rs]

doodled human designs for nightmares gang!

click for better quality

ggrahhb. i love them. will draw individual refs soon. promise. cross has jumped between nightmares gang and star sanses, and therefore is considered a neutral outcode in our au. so ill draw him later.

horror fws the trans community

Star sanses, neutral aus (p1), neutral aus (p2), extras

some headcanons under cut 3_^

warning there is alot of text

> nightmare (they/it)

DESI NIGHTMARE!!!! (this is blatant self projection.)

short. but they always manipulate their height when they're outside of their gang because they hate being short.

chubby because its ass is not used to actual food, and they have a really slow metabolism when it isnt negativity. and now that horrors "forcing" it to eat, they gain weight. fast.

intersex. not sure why i think this but they don't really have a sex, so. erm.

^ adding onto that their fluid in their expression. sometimes masc, sometimes fem, sometimes andro.

has those stupid ass hair curlers and uses leftovers for their tentacles

MATCHING NECKLACES WITH MY OTP AT THE CURRENT MOMENT. usually errormare or bsp. sometimes fluffynight. killermare if nihira is fronting.

also sugar daddy nightmare. its either rich as fuck or have no money at all. (this is kindve a crack hc)

> Dust (he/they)

leaning korean and thai mix for him. because i need to see more mixed characters.

wears pjs whenever he can. gets the most fucking stupid pj pants too. like hello kitty. comfort > style.

always dusty. mostly because he doesn't shower and smells like ASS, but also because they gotta live up to their name somehow.

TRANS MASC. dont care if you say its wrong. EVERYONE IS TRANS. (excluding horror and blue. allies!)

aroace spec 100%. most sanses are, but him in particular. would rather die than do any of the sappy bs. but wouldd love to have a partner. or maybe 3. wink wink.

"2 shorter than killer but gaslights killer into thinking he's taller

doesn't wear papyrus' scarf, but keeps it in his sleeve.

> Horror (he/him)

wanna hc him as native american. but i haven't exactly thought much about what in particular.

tall and bulky. after a lonnggg famine, horror developed an ED. where they stress eat until he's physically ill, or feeling less stressed.

doesn't need the bandages on his face, bur keeps them there because he hates the scar

little big bottom teeth. its something he developed due to the food conditions in HT snowdin.

as much as it happens, horror HATES having blood on him, so he wears an apron underneath his clothes and does the laundry often.

PROSTHETIC LEG!!!! it got stuck in a bear trap when he was in his old au, and alphys didnt really know what else to do. its not the best thing, but its reliable. killer likes to put stickers on it.

has a cleaver named maxine, and an axe called rex.

ace because i dont really think. yeah. gross. ew. intimacy.

> killer (he/they/it)

arabic. its almost canon at this point.

has a selection of knifes in his thigh thing if his magic backfires on them. favourite is its butterfly knife.

is legally blind. his ass CANNOT see. refuses to admit this.

acespec because like look at me. he can barely feel. i just think he'd love the idea of being in a relationship, and desperately want one. but know he cant be in one.

scars galore holy shit. is always somehow simultaneously sloppy and precise with his knifework. him and nightmare have a small rivalry to see who can get the most.

needs to have textures on his clothes. something to ground themself. like "oh shit we're dissociating." rubs pants aggressively. works for us.

transb... transverse...

also DID but this is hinted at in canon

HUh. okay wow that was alot. cres shut up about utmv for 5 seconds (IMPOSSIBLE) (I DIED AFTER 1 SECOND). anyways THANK YOU!!! i will post and draw stars and neutrals tomorrow maybe. just after some sleep because it is 2am. bye everyone 3.<

[medicmuttt]

Totality

hear me out. for all the self shippers. Sun and Moon asking you out during the eclipse.

You're all settled on the roof or somewhere outside, the three or at least you and Sun in control of the body, resting on a soft blanket borrowed from the daycare. It's cute, littered with clouds and moons, and so incredibly soft. You're tempted to take it for yourself. You won't, but the thought crosses your mind.. They're cuddling with you of course. You've gotten used to it at this point. Always so clingy to their favorite little human. Their blank optics somehow filled with wonder as they look on at the sky. You look on as well. Your eyes protected by cute space themed glasses. They don't need any of course but they got some fake ones just to match you. Maybe they stole Monty's for the day..

You can feel as their hands fidget. The Moon hasn't fully covered the Sun yet.. But he looks down at you, sun rays twitching, a cute quirk you've noticed. "S..Sunshine?" His voice is laced in a nervous static as he speaks up. You turn to him, giving them your full attention. That only seems to make it worse.. The gentle whirring of his fans laced with the soft creeks and squeaks of their internal mechanics. Your head tilts ever so slightly as the bot gets the courage to speak once more. "I.. I.. We've known each other for a while now a-and today is so so special.." He trails off. You can tell by the look in his eye his communicating with Moon. Likely yelling at him for tripping over his words so much. His wrings his big, intricate hands. Your brows furrow. "Moon and I have been wanting to ask you for a while." One hand suddenly goes behind his back, searching for something you can't quite see. "W-would you go out with us.. Be our little star? Our universe?" With that he pulls out a bouquet of paper flowers. All hand crafted with colorful construction paper. Blues, reds, oranges and purples.. even some made of star patterned paper.. You feel your chest leap at the sudden proposal but before you can speak he pipes up again. "Y-You mean everything to us Sunshine. I.. We know it isn't really.. Professional or conventional. But we promise to take care of you, to make everyday you're with us the best day possible."

Your heart is racing in your chest. Pounding against your rib cage like a drum. Face hot and flushed with blush. You smile at them, the cute shy one they love so much. Their fans seem to grow louder. They'd fallen for you.. hard. But the two couldn't help the anxiety that bubbled within their chest as they waited for you to respond. Moon was eerily quiet while Sun nearly panicked. "Oh Sun.. Moon.. I don't know what to say" They hadn't said something wrong had they? They weren't reading your signals wrong? "Of course I will. Oh I'd love nothing more then to be yours" Your voice had picked up a cheerful tone. It felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Sun found himself releasing a breath his didn't even need. Dropping the flowers he near tackled you. Pulling you flush into his lap with a squeal. "Oh sunshine! You have no idea how much this means to us!" He squeezed you. Burring his big face into your neck Unable to do much else you simply smiled. Chuckling to yourself and wrapping your arms around their surprisingly warm and soft body. His eyes flicked back up to the sky. The totality was almost here. The tight grip grew slack as he turned you around. You could feel as his hand made its way into yours giving it a excited squeeze. the three of you watching in silence as the moon slowly encompassed the sun. "We love you andromeda.." You leaned up to kiss their cheek. The plastic growing hot under you. A smile tugging at your lips. "I love you too."

I fixated idk if this is good okay bye.

[frvnkcastles]

I'd love something where the reader used to work at The Beef from the bear show, bur had to move to NYC and met Frank, she ends up feeding him the best Beef this side of the east coast and he instantly falls in love, then she makes him the Family Spaghetti and he's like "I wanna fuckin marry her" internally? Fluff?

But the reader is very much cooking out of stress as that's how she feels she can i guess win people over to stick around?

(I was the cunt in school on wedges day where I'd shout every one in my group wedges since otherwise I think they wouldn't stick around me,I wasn't smart enough for them but I paid for food.

I still do this with my baking business)

HONEY, DON’T YOU LEAVE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You and Frank bond over your cooking, but you can’t shake the feeling that that’s all he wants from you.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, language, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: Gahhhhh, I am so annoyed that I’m being so slow with requests but college is back in motion and it has NOT been a soft landing, I have been immediately flooded with things to do. On top of that I’ve just been really tired and unmotivated, but I’m trying my best to write at least a little every day! Anon, thank you so much for your patience. I don’t really do crossovers so it’s never specified where the reader worked before, but I hope you like it anyway! I’m sending you so much love <3

Frank fell in love with you quicker than he cared to admit. He had closed himself off from the possibility of finding someone new, not really interested in making connections of any kind, but you came and conquered his heart with immense ease.

It was complete luck, too. It wasn’t unusual for him to pay a visit to a diner for some food and coffee, but you definitely weren’t supposed to be there. You had a history of working in fairly successful restaurants, yet when you had moved to New York, you faced great difficulty with landing a job that you actually wanted. The places you thought were right on your level turned you down, but you needed money for rent, so you lowered your standards, and wound up working for a diner — the same one Frank stumbled into that night.

It had been mostly uneventful and quiet, and you were left alone with the responsibility of closing. There were no other customers except Frank, but he didn’t seem that open to conversation, so you stayed stationed behind the cash register.

And then, two armed men burst in, their faces concealed with ski masks as they held you at gunpoint. With shaky hands, you began to empty the register, but you didn’t have the time to hand over all the money when one of the guys was knocked out to the ground. You flinched, watching in shock and fear how your only customer beat up the other guy and wrangled the gun out of his hands only to whip him in the face with it. You didn’t know what to do, but it seemed he didn’t need your help — within a minute, both armed men were rushing out of the diner with their tails between their legs.

Stunned speechless, you stared at the tall, rugged man who remained. He caught his breath and then turned to you, his sharp features making you swallow. ”You okay, ma’am?” he grunted, his deep voice incredibly enchanting, and you managed a nod. He was about to turn and return to his seat but you found your voice and spoke up.

”Thank you. Let me make it up to you”, you uttered out, making him halt but the look he gave you was almost amused.

”You don’t owe me anythin’, ma’am”, he replied casually, but you weren’t budging.

”Well, I kinda do. Anyway, the food here is… not that great, so maybe you could let me cook for you? Um, we’re closed tomorrow so there’d be no one else here”, you explained, the words coming out of your mouth before your brain fully processed what you were promising him. You were really yearning to cook again, something other than eggs and bacon, and he had definitely earned it.

He eyed you up and down, weighing his options for a second before reluctantly nodding. ”Aight. If you insist”, he agreed, sparking a smile on your face as you nodded to confirm that you weren’t having it any other way. You told him what time to arrive, and as he returned to finish his sandwich, you couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The next day, you got to the diner early and started working on what you hoped would be a meal to remember. You were mostly excited, and at least cooking kept you busy, which meant you didn’t have the time to worry about being alone with the man. Although he had saved your life, it was hard not to be intimidated by him.

As soon as he arrived at the diner, though, he quickly proved to you that there was nothing to fear. He called you ma’am right up until you told him your name and insisted that there was no need to be formal, and when he introduced himself, he did it in a way that was undeniably charming — and polite. You had seen him around the diner enough to know that he wasn’t a chatty person, but as you brought out the food, he attempted to get to know you better and it made your heart race.

You maintained small-talk, but you couldn’t deny you were nervous to find out what he thought of the food. Once he dug in, though, his eyes immediately widened.

”Wow”, Frank blurted out, a little taken aback by the sheer deliciousness. ”Sweetheart, this is amazin’. Where’d you learn how to cook like this?” he inquired, far too curious to not ask.

With heat on your face, you smiled. ”Uh, well, cooking classes mostly. I used to work at a restaurant. Hopefully I will again some day soon. And a lot of practice at home, of course”, you explained, and nodding along your story, Frank divided his attention between the heavenly food and your equally enthralling voice.

”I bet you will. Your talents are wasted in this place”, he commented, making you chuckle softly.

He didn’t stop praising you throughout the meal, but he also asked follow-up questions, keen to learn everything about you. In return, he vaguely opened up about himself, though you could tell he was holding back a little.

That said, the time you spent in that diner over that meal was enough for him to get hooked on you. He kept stopping by for weeks until he finally got the nerve to ask you on a date, suggesting that you’d make dinner together. It hadn’t taken you long to start falling for him, either, so it was easy to agree to what you didn’t realize would bloom into a serious relationship.

Truthfully, you sort of skipped the casual phase. Frank could be an intense man when it came to relationships, even if he hadn’t really thought he would find himself in one. Nevertheless, he felt strongly about you early on, and your first date developed into constantly spending time at each other’s places and sharing a bed on most nights. He tried his best to impress you with his cooking, and while it certainly wasn’t awful, there was a lot you could teach him — and he received the help willingly, eager to listen to you and learn more about your number one passion.

The night that you cooked the spaghetti recipe that your family had followed for years, he was done for.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so captivated by you, and the food, he would have noticed the tension in your shoulders and the constant chewing on your bottom lip. You were quickly falling back into the bad habit of weighing your own worth based on your cooking, convinced that the moment you’d stop making all these elaborate meals for Frank, he would walk out on you. Your way with food was undoubtedly a perk of dating you, and right now, you were struggling to think of any other ones.

”I hope you like it”, you smiled nervously as you handed over the plate of spaghetti to Frank. He gave you an affectionate look and thanked you before giving the food a go, and in an instant, his heart soared.

The food was amazing, but so were you. You had so much talent in you, and when Frank looked up from the plate and met your gaze, he felt so much love in his heart. He admired you and everything you did, finding you so utterly beautiful and amazing and… God, he wanted to marry you.

He had to fight the urge to just announce it there and then, giving you a small smile. ”I’m speechless, sweetheart. You outdo yourself every time. I’m one lucky asshole”, he declared proudly, making you smile but you couldn’t hide the anxiety in your eyes. Would he consider himself lucky if you didn’t cook for him tomorrow?

He noticed the hesitation on your face, though. ”Hey, darlin’. Somethin’ wrong?” he asked with worry evident in his voice, and you rushed to wave it off.

”I’m okay. I’m glad you like it, baby”, you promised, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Only a week later, the issue resurfaced. You came down with the flu and you were rendered useless for a couple of days, giving you a great deal of stress. Frank was all over you, providing you with medication as well as something to drink and eat — and he was not letting you do a thing by yourself. You were his patient to care for and any attempt to get up from the couch was shot down within seconds.

Once his attention faltered from you and he disappeared in the bedroom to find you a cozy sweater, you made your way to the kitchen. Sniffling and aching all over, you began taking out pots and ingredients, and the noise immediately alerted Frank.

”Nah, nah, sweetheart, what’d I tell ya? You ain’t doin’ a thing except rest tonight. You’re sick and you need to just lay down, aight?” he reminded with a firm tone, his hands coming to cover yours in an attempt to stop you.

Reluctantly, you admitted defeat but it didn’t take long for the frustrated, anxious tears to fill your eyes. Frank’s stern expression fell and he tilted his head down at you, concern taking over.

”Hey, hey, hey. I know it sucks but you need to listen to your body right now”, he sighed, trying to understand what was making you cry. You covered your face with one hand as the tears streamed down your cheeks, and with his heart breaking, Frank hauled you into his arms, shushing you softly while wrapping you in a tight embrace.

”I just don’t want you to leave me”, you admitted faintly, and right away, Frank’s eyebrows knitted together and he pulled back to give you a confused look.

”Sweetheart, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Why would you say that?” he frowned, genuinely surprised by your confession.

With a sniffle, you shrugged. ”You love my cooking. And I guess it’s the main reason you’re with me. So, if I stop cooking… why would you stay?” you explained the logic that you had built inside your own head. But Frank didn’t agree with you, and the fond chuckle that he huffed at you was enough to imply as much.

”Baby, I do love your cooking, but it definitely ain’t the main reason I’m with you. I love you, hear me? I’m with you ’cause you’re so fuckin’ kind and understanding and real supportive. And you make me so goddamn happy. I’d still be just as in love if you stopped cooking for good, yeah? It’s great but it ain’t why I adore you so much”, he countered while lifting one hand up to your jaw and tipping it so you could meet his eye. He looked completely serious, and you really wanted to believe him.

”You mean that?” you asked carefully, and he wasted no time in nodding to confirm.

”I fuckin’ mean it. I, uh… I kinda wanna spend the rest of my life with ya”, he cleared his throat, and astonished to hear that, your eyes flew wide open and a wide smile curled your lips up high.

”Frankie… I want that, too”, you breathed out, earning a tender look from him. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, the soft feeling of his lips making your heart do somersaults.

”Hey, I’mma take over the cookin’ responsibilities this week. You just get cozy on the couch and I’ll whip somethin’ up for us, yeah?” he decided, and you shot him a teasing grin.

”Sure you can handle it?” you wondered, taunting him, and he responded with a mixture of a laugh and a scoff.

”My girl’s a comedian now, huh? Get outta here”, he grumbled, gently patting your ass to encourage you towards the couch.

He may not have been as good of a cook as you were, but he made an effort and stayed true to his promise, not letting you anywhere the kitchen until you were feeling much better. And even then, he insisted on helping or occasionally being in charge, just to show you that you were a team and you didn’t owe him anything.

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Texting them “I need you right now”

Note: hi everyone! So sorry for not posting in months, life wasn't easy on me. I managed to sort things out (hopefully they will stay organised this time, or else I'm starting a new life in Spain), and I plan to write more. I'm also taking commissions again (the financial situation it's not good, so every commission would help me a lot!). Anyway, I haven't written anything since January, so please be kind with me.

He won't see your text right away because he's a busy man. After he has some free time, he checks his phone and immediately opens the chat with you, ignoring everyone else.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"

The text is demanding, and he knows something is wrong with you, so he tries to finish faster whatever he had planned for that day, which he fails because he is constantly thinking about you. So, he dropped everything and came to you. 

Wesker is a man of his word, so he arrives on time.

"Have you been crying, my love?" he asked as he saw that your eyes were all red and your face was swollen.

"Yeah...petty reason." 

"If it was petty, you wouldn't have called me."

You wasted no time and threw yourself in his arms, sinking into his embrace and burring your face into his chest.

Being busy all the time, you barely see him. Maybe once a month nowadays, and this long wait only contributed to your sadness. You yearned to talk with someone like him because he made you feel safe. You knew he was listening, and you knew he didn't judge. Also, he would comfort you with small kisses and gentle touches and would praise you for being strong.

He moved you to your sofa, made your favourite tea, and listened carefully as you talked about your worries and recent unfortunate events.

During that time, he received a lot of calls and texts, but he turned his phone on silent because his main priority was you.

He hugged you tight, telling you that he'd always be there for you, no matter what. One hand would gently massage your hair, and the other would massage your back. It hurt him so damn much to see you like this and hear you sob in his arms. He wanted to hurt everyone who caused you to end up like this, and he was very vocal about his intentions.

"You can't protect me from the world, Albert. All you can do is be here for me when I need it."

He didn't like your response or agree with your opinion, but for now, he kept you tight to his chest.

He usually stays until you feel better, and then he leaves to do his work. He will be worried all day because you're still on his mind, so he checks on you frequently, promising to take you on a small trip to calm your mind.

The government agent is always busy. He's either stuck in his office completing paperwork, training new recruits, or on a mission on the other side of the globe.

He wasn't away on the field, so when he saw your text, he immediately responded. Even if he was busy doing desk duty or fighting, he would try to respond asap (he will hide in a corner if he had to, if that means he'll get five minutes of peace to text you back because he knows how worried you can get). 

"What's wrong, doll?"

"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"

A pretty demanding text means an urgent need, so he left early, abandoning everything he had scheduled for today. That annoyed some of his superiors, but he got away without much trouble.

Leon tried his best to arrive on time. He was being pressured by time and worry; he drove like a maniac to your place on his motorcycle, but he stopped to buy your favorite sweets.

"I bought you something good," he said, smiling in the doorframe and opening the bag to show the inside. However, his smile dropped. 

"Have you been crying?" he asked, quickly cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Your face was flushed and very warm to the touch, and your eyes were swollen and teary.

"Yeah...petty reason."

"You don't cry like that for a petty reason," he said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You quickly hugged him and burried your nose at the crook of his neck. He hugged you back tight, a trail of kisses caressing your skin, starting from your neck to your face.

He guided you to the bed, where he listened to you and held you tight. His fingers kept brushing over your face, and his lips would occasionally press tiny, affectionate kisses over your skin. His body was glued to yours, and the warmth from such an intimate embrace made you feel safe. You felt safe not only to express your emotions, but you also felt sheltered from the rest of the world.

"You are not alone," he whispered as his hand caressed your back in a gentle manner. "I told you, no matter how hard it gets, we'll find a way to get through it together." 

He usually stays until he makes sure you feel better. After that, he texts you the whole day, asking how you feel because he can't ease his own anxiety. He promised to take you on a vacation.

He noticed your text right away, but he's stuck with his research and can't reply instantly. He will text you back as soon as he can.

"What's wrong, mi bella princesa?"

"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"

With much difficulty and a lot of excuses, he manages to leave his laboratory and come to your place.

Upon seeing your red and watery eyes, he quickly came inside and cupped your face.

"Have you been crying?" he asked, worried, his fingers brushing over your warm, red cheeks.

"yeah...petty reasons." You tried your best to smile.

"Querida, you don't cry like that because of petty reasons." He gently kissed your forehead.

He pulled closer to him, and you quickly hugged him, buring your face into his chest. Luis kept kissing you and whispering kind words to help you feel better.

"Just talk to me, ok? There isn't anything in this world that we can't get through."

Despite the firm grip around your body, he managed to caress you with tenderness. His strokes were as delicate as a feather, and every soft kiss felt warm and loving. 

He was so kind and gentle, and his attitude only made you more vulnerable, so you started crying again.

"Please, my love, don't cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this." He whispered.

He guided you to the bed and cuddled with you. His arms were wrapped around your body, and his nose was buried in your hair.

"Is there anything I can do to make it all go away?" He said, hand stroking your back. 

"No, just hold me like this."

It breaks his heart to see you like that, so he kept thinking about making you feel better.

"How about you and I go for a walk?" He said this as his fingers ran through your smooth hair. "Or we can stay here and cuddle; watch that movie you like. I can make something to eat, and we can relax."

"It sounds good," you said, your smile making a shy return. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out."

"it's fine." He pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek. "You know I'm always here for you."

"I know, and I appreciate that." You caressed his face, your fingers exploring every inch, going through his fluffly hair over his beard and over his lips. You two were looking at each other with the same enamoured gaze as in the beginning.

"We can spend some time tomorrow if you want," he added, being enchanted by the shared intimate moment, feeling drawn in by your presence, and wanting to spend more time with you.

"What about work?" you asked.

"Don't worry, as much as I hate it, I will find the lab in the same place I left it today."

Your light chuckle made him feel a little better. Whenever you are sad, he feels his heart shatter into tiny pieces. You mean the world to him, and he'd do anything to protect you.

He was training the new recruits when his phone buzzed in his pocket. After a quick glance, he gave the men a five-minute break so he could respond to you. Jack blames himself for not giving you proper attention since he is always on the field, so when he can, he drops everything and focuses on you entirely.

"What's wrong, beautiful?"

"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"

His subordinates were thrilled to find out that they had the rest of the day off.

He is a punctual man, so he arrives on time and not a minute late, holding a bag with your favourite snacks.

He tried to hide his worry behind a comforting smile. He quickly noticed your puffy face and teary eyes.

"Have you been crying?" he asked in a low tone, coming closer to you. He cups your face and brings you closer to him, pressing small, gentle kisses all over your face. His tenderness was endearing, so much so that warm tears began to drip down your cheeks again.

"It's just...petty reasons." You said it with a trembling voice.

"Bullshit."

He pulled you closer to his chest and held you tight. His hands were stroking your back, his head pressed to yours. His much larger frame swallowed you whole, seeming as if you had disappeared completely.

You felt safe in his arms. It was so warm and comforting, and not only his embrace made you feel this way, but also his reassuring words that he'd whisper constantly.

He carried you to the bed, and as he was sitting close to you, he brushed his fingers over your check and listened closely to what you had to say. It broke his heart to see you like this, and he couldn’t stop asking himself if, if he were there more often for you, you would still end up like this. This type of question tormented him, and you could feel that.

“I’m sorry, maybe it’s a lot too dump on you.” You said this as you caressed his face, your fingers trailing over his scars.

“No, not at all, love.” He took your hand and placed a lingering kiss in your palm. “I just wish I was there for you more often.”

“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. The important thing is that you’re here now, and that means a lot to me."

You felt his lips kissing you softly once your head was pressed against his chest. 

He still feels guilty, but it doesn't press over his shoulder as hard anymore. He promised to spend more time with you.

[margotw10bis]

Better Than Him.JJK [m] TEASER

roommate!Jungkook x reader

Genre: fake-dating; romance; smut; one-shot

Words: ?

Synopsis: When your boyfriend cheats on you and decides to bring his lover to the wedding you invited him to, you take vengeance by pretending you have a new boyfriend: your hot roommate.

Warnings: nothing for the teaser

After a quick drop at your hotel rooms to change into swimsuits, Namjoon has proposed to walk around to enjoy the beautiful nature surrounding the hotel. Of course, you asked Jungkook if it was okay for him or if he preferred going to the gym. You don't want to impose him any activity because he has been kind enough to accept this whole fake-dating thing. However, he stated that he wanted to see your surroundings and he doesn't regret one bit.

It's beautiful. Tall trees frame the narrow path to the waterfall. The sound of the water, the birds and the faint breeze in the leaves are magical. The little lake created by the waterfall seems to come from a fairy tail.

Jungkook stays close to you, playing his boyfriend role perfectly. He urges you to be careful and holds your hand. You clearly feel Taehyung's eyes burning your back but you do your best to ignore it, especially when Siyeon wears the smallest and more translucent dress ever.

When you are right next to the lake, you throw an eye at your 'boyfriend' but you gulp when you spot the playfulness in his doe eyes. You immediately understand what's going on in his childish brain and you point a warning finger at him.

"I swear to god, Jungkook, if you do that..."

"Do what, baby?" He replies, with a faked innocence

That's vicious because the pet name takes you aback and you don't have time to react. Jungkook slyly wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, making your squeak. He is walking dangerously straight to the water so you secure your legs around his torso, just prevent him from acting upon his idea.

"Don't you dare!" You threaten him

"You said you wanted to go for a swim" He teases, pretending to drop you but immediately holds you tighter

"Jungkook!" You scream, burring your face in the crook of his neck

His airy laugh is contagious. You're happy he's happy. You were afraid this weekend would be an absolutely chore for him but he actually seems to enjoy it.

Honestly, if you didn't know that you're fake-dating, you would be completely in love. But maybe your weak heart shouldn't react as much... It's certainly a side-effect of having your heart broken by your cheating boyfriend and not at all because Jungkook is kind and handsome and sexy and everything that describes 'perfect'.

"I won't let you down" He swears and seals his promise with a kiss on your forehead before putting you down carefully

However, your little bubble explodes with your ex's annoyed and annoying voice. And you understand that Jungkook just put on a show because Taehyung was there. You put far, far, far away the feeling of disappointment.

"Can we go to the beach now? Everyone is waiting for you" Taehyung growls

You shrug your shoulders while you pass by him and Siyeon, not forgetting to grab your roommate's hand.

Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist for this story :)

[natashaslesbian]

How about Nat x Teen Resder where she's having a bad day and Nat goes all mama bear mode to distract her and make her feel better

Mama Bear Mode

Word Count: 678

Parings: (Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Reader)

Warnings: Reader has some self doubt and there’s a little bit of bullying from Parker

————

A/N• this req was so cute thank you! Also this isn’t proof read :)

“Hey kid” Natasha said as she entered your room “haven’t seen you much today” you shrugged and avoided her gaze. The widow knew there was something troubling you but she didn’t like to push. You stayed staring out into the world while Nat came to sit with you at your window seat. “Why don’t we curl up and watch a film? Just like we used to” there had been so many missions lately that you hadn’t spent much time with your favourite agent. “Sure” you mumbled. “Okay, I’ll go grab some snacks and you can pick a film” Natasha said as she jumped to her feet in search for food.

The two of you settled in Natasha’s room, gowned in fluffy pjs and a mountain of snacks. You picked y/f/f and Natasha playfully rolled her eyes, knowing you would be quoting it the whole time. You tried to focus on the story, even though you’d seen it a thousand times, but your mind was racing with self-hatred. “Sweetheart?” Nat cooed, “mhm” you mumbled behind your fist. “Y/n look at me” Natasha said as she reached for your chin, pulling your gaze towards her “what’s going on darling? You’ve not been yourself lately” she said. “Nothing. I’m fine” you shrugged. “Y/n, talk to me” Nat said as she ran her hand through your hair.

You could feel the tears rise to your eyes and held them back as best you could. “Just a bad day” you croaked through shaky breaths. The tears that you tried to stop started to fall. “Oh honey” Natasha said as she pulled you into her arms “what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” She asked. You ended up telling her everything, how much you hated to look in the mirror, how badly you wanted to know why your parents had given you up. You were grateful that the avengers had taken you in when you were 13, but growing up without parents took it toll on you. You told Nat how much you hated school and how Peter and his friends never included you in anything.

Natasha was shocked to hear of Peters behaviour, he seemed like the nicest boy ever. “Did something happen yesterday to make you this upset?” She asked. “Yeah” you nodded “we were supposed to meet up for lunch in Mr. Cruzes classroom, but they’d planned to meet somewhere else and didn’t tell me, so I just ate there by myself” you sniffled. “I’m so sorry baby” Natasha said as she kissed your forehead, masking her anger. “It’s not the first time they’ve done it either” you cried. “What?” Nat exclaimed, “right that’s it, I’m speaking to Parker, now!” She said as she shot up off the bed and stormed towards the door.

“Mama don’t go” you whispered as you reached for the redhead. Natasha stopped in her tracks, hearing what you had called her. She turned on her heels to see your big puppy eyes staring up at her. A single year fell from your left eye and Nat was at your side in seconds. “It’s okay baby, I’m not going anywhere, mamas right here” she cooed into your ear as she bundled you into her arms. She pulled you onto her lap as she settled back into bed, pulling the covers up above you both. “Deep breaths baby girl” Natasha encouraged, helping you to regain control of your breathing.

Once you’d calmed down you asked Natasha to turn the volume up on her tv. “That way you’ll still be able to hear it when I say all the lines” you said, burring your head in Natasha’s neck. “There’s no need, I love it when you do that” she said. You fell asleep towards the end of the movie, happily wrapped up in Natasha’s embrace. The widow promised she’d be right there when you woke up, but she knew that in between she would go looking for Peter. You were Natasha’s little girl and anyone who messed with you would face the wrath of the black widow.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[transmascaraa]

NYX💃🏻 bet you didn't expect me here did you? (You probably did)

Anyways remember that one time you wrote this><

Could you maybe do that with Xiao?? Anyways gotta go back at texting you at discord lmao

Love you<33

bf!xiao headcannons!

you're not used to such kind words of affection...

bf!xiao x adeptus!gn!reader

author's note: OFC OFC I LOVE YOU TOO💗💗 i hope you guys enjoy this one as well as you enjoyed the one with gaming lol^^ (in the end it came out as smthn like js comfort but it includes praise soooo)

"is this what mortals call— praise?.."

-okay so where do i startttt

-at first, when he met you, he didn't understand AT ALL what showing affection meant

-so whenever you showed him affection(which you never received yourself) he felt warm but weird

-since he never kinda received it himself

-i mean after losing so many friends what do you expect lmao

-and he never really understood "love" as a whole

-the only reason you got with him was because YOU confessed, and he said he felt the same way, unknowing that it was literally love itself

-so after quite some time of him asking zhongli what it is and for his help, he understood it pretty much finally

-and seeing you a bit down one day was his chance to do his best to help you.

-you sat on a high cliff, your knees pressed to your chest, in which you buried your head.

-feeling somebody's presence, you lift your head only to see xiao sitting next to you, putting a hand on your back, gently rubbing it.

-but he didn't look at you, not yet, he just kept looking straight into the horizon.

-"i see you don't feel as... good.. as you usually do." to which you just hummed.

-"and... i understand that it can be tough sometimes.." he continued.

-"but i still think that doesn't make you any less of what you already are. the brave and... kind adeptus you are." now you were a bit surprised, to say the least.

-"you're.. beautiful/handsome/fabolous just the way you are and..." he paused to turn his gaze towards you.

-"you're really sweet to me." that's when he noticed your surprised blushing face that replaced the one of despair just a while ago.

-"n-no, xiao... but i'm not-"

-"you are. you're... how do they say it again... perfect..?"

-"i'm not, i swear-"

-"i swear on the powerful and almighty rex lapis. you... shouldn't change for anyone but for yourself. your role as an adeptus like me... i understand your struggles, but you'll get through it, just like i did. you're too strong to look at yourself so lowly."

-"xiao, no-"

-"i promise."

-you were a bit stunned by those simple 2 words.

-"huh?"

-"i said, i promise, if that's how it's said."

-you just hugged him tight, burring your head in the crook of his soft neck, letting him gently hug you in return.

-and even tho you didn't accept his praise and words of affirmation at first, they slowly grew on you after some time.

-you gradually got used to them, just as xiao got used to saying the phrases using them with you.

-and he always kept his promises.

~~~~~

i haven't written for one character individually in quite a while but damn this is long

in fact i think this is my longest one-character writing😰

it's not a bad thing smh if only every other was as long as this one lmfao

| @mariaace <3

[archangeldyke-all]

hihi angel! i’m sorry tumblr keep eating ur asks 😔 i sent in a few but i don’t think you got them so here’s one!:

so, let's say that r and sevika have been married for a few years now. things have definitely mellowed out so they try something new!

every once in a while sev and reader will play a game. the rules are: go out to a club/bar, act like we don't know each other, one of us tries to seduce the other, whoever manages to get the other "in bed" wins.

how would this play out?

🌕

i love this so much.

men and minors dni

you sigh, taking another sip of the wine in front of you as you shuffle through the papers on the bar. it's finals season, and as a professor, you're swamped with grading.

you rarely take work outside of school or your little desk at home, but you needed a change of environment after grading papers for six hours straight in your apartment. so, here you are, a little tipsy and trying to keep your grading as harsh as usual as the alcohol mellows you out.

"professor?" a voice rasps out. you look up from your papers, pushing your reading glasses up to sit on your head, and blink at the woman in front of you.

you recognize her, vaguely. you teach five different classes, the average class size is close to 200 students. so you don't know her name. but as you study her face, she becomes more familiar to you. you smile.

"you're the one who's always cracking open a red bull in the middle of my lectures." you accuse, pointing at the woman in front of you.

she chuckles and nods, ducking her head in embarrassment.

"sorry. three hour lecture at five o'clock... i get sleepy." she admits. you chuckle.

"i'm not entertaining enough for you?" you ask. she gasps.

"no! y-you're very entertaining! my favorite class! i just have to get up early on tuesdays so i'm tired by the ti--"

"relax." you cut her off, giggling. "i hate the evening classes too. mostly, i'm just sad you've never brought me a red bull."

she grins. "i'm sevika." she thrusts her hand forward. you shake it, smiling at her.

"hello, sevika. i think i remember your paper." you say, chuckling.

"really?"

"mhm. just graded it an hour ago." you nod.

she sits in the stool next to you, grinning. "well?" she asks. you chuckle.

"well, what?"

"how'd i do?" she asks. you smirk at her.

"well, i can't tell you that." you say. she pouts.

"no?" she asks. you shake your head no. she hums, then turns around and flags down the bartender. "another, for her. and a whiskey for me." she requests. he nods and walks away, and you raise an eyebrow at your student.

"i'm still not telling you your grade."

"what, i can't buy my favorite professor a drink at the end of the semester as a thanks?" she asks. you roll your eyes and lean back in your stool, willing to entertain this for a few minutes before you go back to grading. you need a quick break anyways.

"am i really your favorite, or are you just saying that?" you ask. the bartender delivers your drinks, and you take a sip while sevika answers.

"no, you're my favorite by far." she promises. you snort.

"so, sevika, what're you studying?" you ask.

sevika chokes on her whiskey, glares at you, and then composes herself. you have to bite back a laugh. "uh... math?" she guesses.

you burst into laughter. "'re you guessing or telling?"

"telling." she decides, nodding. "math."

you have to bite your lip to keep from surging forward and kissing her right here and now. her eyes catch on the action, and you have to kick her under the bar to keep her from doing anything stupid. "and how did you find yourself in an english class, math major?"

sevika grins, and scoots even closer to you. "i heard the professor was a stunner." she says. "wanted to see for myself. i would've dropped the fuckin' class if it wasn't you teaching. i hate writing. but... it's nice lookin' at you for three hours a week." she whispers.

you gulp, reaching forward to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "that explains your horrible paper."

sevika bursts into laughter, then downs the rest of her drink. you do the same, sensing that your night might be headed somewhere else. "is there anything i can do for extra credit?" she asks, her eyes trailing down your body.

butterflies explode in your stomach. you tilt your head to the side, examining your student and licking your lips. "i think i could figure something out." you say.

thirty minutes later, you're back at your place, sevika on her knees in front you as she helps you get into your strap harness.

you help her stand again once she's done, and then jump on her bed and make yourself comfortable in the middle. she blinks at you.

"what?"

"why're you laying down?" sevika asks, as she crawls onto bed after you. you chuckle as she hovers over you, pulling her down for a kiss.

"honey, if you want the extra credit, you gotta earn it." you mumble against her lips. you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing at the way sevika's eyes go all wide and glossy. "now be a good girl 'n ride it."

sevika's breath trembles, and she scrambles to follow your instructions, quickly straddling your hips and lining your cock up to her.

sevika doesn't hesitate to sink down and take you in a single go. it makes you whimper. she grins, her eyes rolling in the back of her skull as she adjusts to the stretch. you sink your fingers in her hips, grinning up at her. "there you go, baby."

"f-fuck." she whines as she starts grinding small circles against you. "fuck. been dreamin' about this."

you giggle. "yeah?" you ask. sevika leans forward, planting her hands on either side of your shoulders as she starts to ride you. you both groan.

"y-yes. god, fuck, it's your voice. i re-watch the lectures you post online 'n touch myself to the sound of you." she whimpers. you gasp, pleasure coursing through you at her revelation, and start thrusting in time with sevika's movements, desperate for more.

"shit, baby, tell me more." you whine.

your eyes are locked on her tits-- swaying in time with her movements. sevika's muffling her moans against the top of your head. "ffffuck-- fuck, love those glasses you wear." she whines.

you chuckle. "yeah?"

"and those fuckin', shit, ah, those blazers." sevika whines.

you smack her ass. she gasps, pulls away to glare at you. you smirk up at her. "keep goin' baby, you got a D on your paper." you encourage. sevika rolls her eyes and flicks your forehead, and you burst into giggles pulling her in for a kiss.

"pause." she whispers against your lips. you hum, nodding up at her, waiting to hear what she needs to tell you as your real-life wife.

"you okay?"

"i'd never get a D on a paper, babe. c'mon." she huffs. you burst into laughter, smacking her ass again before pulling her in for another kiss.

"how's C sound?"

"fine." she grunts, before sitting up and starting to ride you again. "unpause." she grunts. "so, where's my grade at now, professor?" she asks.

you giggle up at her, palming at her tits. "well, you started at a C." you emphasize. sevika nods, grinning down at you. you chuckle. "i'd say you're at a solid B+ now." you say. she grins.

"yeah? how do i make it an A?" she asks. you grin.

"well, for an A i wanna see you cum on my cock, baby. for an A+, you'll make me cum too." you shrug.

sevika loves a challenge-- and it's not like either of you are too far from cumming. she readjusts, bringing her hands down on your tits to steady herself as she starts to bounce on your dick.

the new angle makes you both moan. the base of the strap's pressing on your cunt over and over, and from the way she's shivering you know it's hitting sevika's g-spot, too. you reach between your bodies to start rubbing her clit. she groans.

"professor!" she exclaims. you giggle a bit. "fuck, i'm gonna--"

"yeah? gonna cum all over my cock, baby? go ahead, honey, i know you want it. know you've been dreamin' about it for weeks. sittin' in class, watchin' me work. when you'd go home after-- were you wet?" you ask.

sevika whimpers and nods. you grin.

"good. cum on this dick 'n show me how wet you can get for me." you demand. sevika growls, bites your throat, and cums on top of you. you try your best to keep thrusting into her as she shakes, whispering encouragement to her as you do. "there you go, baby. there you go."

eventually sevika stops moving and whining, and you smack her ass a third time. she grunts against you.

"you okay?" you ask, dropping your proper professor voice. she nods against you.

"i gotta get my A+." she mumbles, smacking your shoulder with a limp hand. "take your strap off so i can eat you out."

you snort. "you gotta get off the strap before i can take it off, babe."

sevika groans. "nooo." she whines. you kiss her cheek.

"stay here, baby. 's long as you need." you say, wrapping your arms around her and scratching her head. she huffs.

"'m just gonna nap for, like, ten minutes." she promises. "n' then i'll get to you. wake me up, okay?" she asks. you snort and pepper her head with kisses.

"alright." you giggle.

sevika's just about to start snoring when she blinks back awake, looking up at you.

"i love you." she says, smiling. "this was fun and all, but. i'm glad your my wife 'n not my professor."

you grin. "i love you too, baby."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary

[r0mantic-f00l]

(this turned out to be a bit angstier than I thought but still has a happy ending!)

I present to you, enemies to lovers with mr regulus black!

Infatuation

Regulus Black.

There was nobody else you despised more. Nobody else could make you snarl at his ridiculous wavy hair, his stupid ocean-blue eyes, his smarmy yet lucent grin. Nobody else made your skin crawl, your blood rush through your veins, your heartbeat rapidly increasing in its speed.

You hated him.

Truly despised him.

Yet with that hate came infatuation.

Whenever he walked into the room you were already in, with his chin pointed upwards whilst his lips curled into an arrogant grin, you gazed at him with such passionate hatred behind your eyes. And he was already staring at you with the exact same hatred.

You hated it when he sat across from you in the Great Hall, staring at you with blank, beady eyes whilst you conversed with a boy, a handsome boy, a boy who smiled at you and laughed at your jokes and glanced at you in a way that didn't show complete hatred. You lost focus when Regulus would glare at you, or perhaps you told yourself that to stop the suggestion that you simply grew bored of the boy entering your mind.

You did love some things about Regulus.

You loved the exhilaration he gave you when you did something you were not supposed to do to make him suffer (only mildly, of course, much to your dismay). You loved the competition, the rivalry present between you whenever you sat next to each other in Potions. Most of all, you loved the freedom he gave you to not be a perfect angel. With everyone else, you had to smile like a goddess, walk like a swan, talk like a princess. With him, all of that was forgotten. You were grateful, however, for the brief escape he unknowingly allowed you from being perfect all the time. It was tiring, draining you from inside your heart.

He knew how devilish you truly could be, and he relished in the hell you provided him.

You walked into the Potions class one afternoon, your last lesson of the day, and sat in your designated seat; at the very back of the classroom where nobody (bur Regulus) could bother you.

It seemed the boy was running late, and although you grinned in satisfaction on the outside, you felt your heartbeat decrease in its speed.

Slughorn had begun to talk, smiling in an annoyingly jovial way, when Regulus had rushed in with a sour look on his face, and your heartbeat drummed against your chest.

"Regulus, my boy! Better late than never." Slughorn joked, oblivious to the boy muttering under his breath, seemingly frustrated as he took his seat next to you.

You glanced over at him, watching as he threw his quill and his books out in anger.

Your grin grew bigger.

"Oh no, is the precious teacher's pet frustrated 'cause he was late?" You pouted in faux sympathy, bashing your eyelashes as he snarled.

"Shut up."

You laughed, seemingly finding humour in the boy's sour mood.

"Wow, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Reggie?"

He scoffed.

"I told you to stop calling me Reggie."

"Well, I didn't promise anything, did I?"

The boy dipped his quill in his pot of ink, writing notes in a messy scrawl, trying his hardest to ignore you, and your stupid grin, and your ridiculously beautiful hair, and your glossy lips that reflected the light of the candles.

"Hmm, are you ignoring me now?" You asked, subconsciously leaning closer, making the boy take a deep breath which you mistook as a sign of annoyance.

He continued to write, making you huff and roll your eyes.

"You're no fun today."

"Well excuse me for actually wanting to pay attention in this class for once."

You grinned, and Regulus instantly knew he said his words wrong.

"So you're saying that you pay attention to me in most of these lessons?"

"I'm saying that you bother me that much with your incessant rambling that I don't have time to do work." The boy spoke through gritted teeth, no longer writing but still staring down at his page.

"Just say you're in love with me at this point, Reggie." You grinned.

Regulus glanced up from his page, still not quite looking at you just yet, but rather focusing his gaze on your hand that touched his side of the desk.

"..And if I was?"

Finally, your grin had dropped, the curve of your lip faltering as you processed his words. Only 4 words he said, but it made your heart beat rapidly, your brain stop working, your lungs stop bringing in air.

The boy had looked up at you then, a slight smirk on his face, yet his eyes could not be read, could not be understood by your eyes which had memorised every one of his looks, his mechanisms, his patterns. This, this was unlike him. This was not the Regulus Black you'd grown to passionately despise.

"W-What?"

"I said," He leaned closer to you, staring at you intently.

"If I was in love with you, if I couldn't stop thinking about everything you do, if I have driven myself insane over the thought of you, what would you do?"

He found humour in the way your mouth was slightly agape, your eyes scanning his as you had appeared to stop breathing.

"I-I," You tried to say something, but your mouth had ran dry and your mind did not provide you with any help. It was as if you had forgotten how to speak.

He pouted slightly, tilting his head as he watched you struggle to find words.

"Nothing?" Regulus questioned, copying your faux sympathy you always had whenever the boy was in a sour mood just like before.

Still, you could not speak, could not utter the words your heart screamed in your chest as you continued to stare at him with a perplexed and shocked expression.

He turned back to his notes and grinned to himself, feeling pride in his success to make you silent.

It was only when Slughorn began to dismiss the class that you spoke up once again, yet with such a feeble and broken voice.

"I truly cannot stand you."

You then hurried out of the classroom, your bag knocking pots of ink down on the floor as you stormed away.

It wasn't the first time you had said that, in fact Regulus had lost count of how many times you told him you hated him, but this was different. There was true venom behind your words, true fury in your voice. Yet your voice still wobbled in an upset manner, your bottom lip slightly quivering as you hid your glassy eyes away from him.

And the boy was compelled to follow after you, calling out your name as he ignored the confused looks of other students.

Regulus Black, running after the girl who he despised, with such desperation?

The boy did not know by what he was compelled, he did not know the emotions that entered his heart like a virus, he did not know why his legs were picking up speed as you rushed away from him. All he did know was he had done something devastatingly wrong.

You walked into a desolate classroom and slammed the door, but you were too late in your efforts to keep him out, Regulus opening the door shortly after you closed it.

"Go away, Reggie." You murmured in a weak manner, the boy ignoring your request as he stepped closer to you, unsure what to do in this situation to calm you down. Because you didn't seem angry, no, you seemed distraught.

"What's wrong? What did I do?" He asked, approaching you as if you were a delicate, yet dangerous creature.

"Go away, Regulus!" You snapped, shocking both the boy and yourself as you yelled.

He saw the way tears dropped from your eyes, and he felt his heart shatter.

"N-No, I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving you." He drew closer to you, holding his arms out as if to hug you, but stopping in his movement like he didn't know how to, like he didn't know if he could.

"Please, just go away." You repeated your request again, your feeble, muttering voice returning. Yet your words contrasts your actions, as you held onto his arms for support.

"Tell me what I did that made you like this. Tell me." Regulus asked, desperation appearing in his eyes and in the way he spoke as he watched you weep.

"Y-You," Unable to get the words out, you took a deep breath, before crumbling down all over again.

"You don't joke about loving someone, Reggie! Not like that. Not when that someone actually loves you!"

In that moment, everything clicked into place for Regulus. That was why he chased after you. That was why he glared at whatever other boy you smiled at. That was why he was mean and cruel and bitter towards you. Because he loved you. And he didn't know how to show it. After all, how can someone show love it they have never been shown it themselves?

Your cries filled the silence in the room as he processed all his thoughts and his feelings. Though, there was not much to process, they were all of you.

"Y-You love me?"

You scoffed, stepping away from him as you harshly wiped away your tears as if you were disgusted at your own emotions.

"Yes, I do. I love you. And it's such a cruel fate." You snarked, yet you felt weaker.

Regulus walked towards you once more, but stopped in his tracks before he could get too close.

"I-I love you. I love you." He repeated it, sinking it in to your and his brain, and he smiled. A smile not of arrogance, or of mischief, but rather a smile of content, of peace, of belonging.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you snapped out of it, whatever spell his words placed on you, and you sniffed, looking down at the wood beneath you as you folded your arms.

"No you don't."

Regulus' eyebrows furrowed, and he chose to step closer to you finally, to breach that line that you both drawn since the first year in Hogwarts.

"I do. I-I realise now, that I've loved you ever since I met you. I just... I suppose I repressed it." He tucked your hair behind your ear, making you look up to see his soft smile.

"I've grown tired of pretending to hate you, when you're the person I love most in this world."

You glanced between his eyes, and saw a sign of love, recognising truth behind his words, and your brain memorised that as another mood of his, one that you would see always.

"Really?"

He nodded, cupping your face.

"Truly."

You smiled, and held the hands that was holding your face, and leaned in for a soft kiss, a kiss that Regulus did not know how to give, but he was a rather quick learner, always had been.

That day, you learned that the infatuation you had for the boy was not one born out of pure passionate hatred, but rather an overwhelming amount of love.

[star-anise]

reading supercut: disability, body image, and trauma

A glimpse into the clothes thrashing around in the washing machine of my mind, with apologies that it is still a wet lump and not an actual synthesis of ideas.

From Easy Beauty: A Memoir by Chloé Cooper Jones:

[This event] embedded a damaging idea in me, one I’d recognize deeply when I read Scarry years later: beauty was a matter of particulars aligning correctly. My body put me in a bracketed, undercredited sense of beauty. But if I could get the particulars lined up just right, I could be re-seen, discovered like the palm tree is discovered. To be deserving of the whole range of human desires, I had to be extraordinary in all other aspects. In this new light, I started to see my work, my intellect, my skills, my moments of humor or goodness, not as valuable in themselves, but as ways of easing the impact of my ugliness. If only I could pile up enough good qualities, they could obscure my unacceptable body. [...] accepting the argument that beauty was malleable came, for me, with a cost. The Platonian view rejected me cleanly, but Hume and Scarry left a door ajar and I’ve spent a lifetime trying to contort my form to see if I could pass through it.

From Til We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by CS Lewis:

I now determined that I would go always veiled. I have kept this rule, within doors and without, ever since. It is a sort of treaty made with my ugliness. There had been a time in childhood when I didn't yet know I was ugly. Then there was a time (for in this book I must hide none of my shames or follies) when I believed, as girls do — and as Batta was always telling me — that I could make it more tolerable by this or that done to my clothes or my hair. Now, I chose to be veiled.

From Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy of Borderline Personality Disorder by Marsha Linehan:

Inhibited grieving is understandable among borderline patients. People can only stay with a very painful process or experience if they are confident that it will end some day, some time—that they can "work through it," so to speak. It is not uncommon to hear borderline patients say they feel that if they ever do cry, they will never stop Indeed, that is their common experience—the experience of not being able to control or modulate their own emotional experiences. [...] In the face of such helplessness and lack of control, inhibition and avoidance of cues associated with grieving are not only understandable, bur perhaps wise at times. Inhibition, however, has its costs. [...] Volkan (1983) describes an interesting phenomenon, "established pathological mourning", which is similar to the pattern I am describing. In established pathological mourning, the individual wishes to complete mourning, but at the same time persistently attempts to undo the reality of the loss.

From How to Respond to Criticism by Danny Lavery:

Apologize, but don’t really mean it, and plant a seed of secret resentment so deep in your own heart that years later you can’t even remember that you’re the one who nurtured it and made it grow, it seems that much like a native part of you.

From Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed:

[After learning that state child protective services had made a budgetary decision to only intervene with children under 12, to one of the teenagers that regularly shared stories of abuse at home] I told her it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell her it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told her it would likely go on and she’d have to survive it. That she’d have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it [...] I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother’s life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.

From Essays in Aesthetics by Jean-Paul Sartre:

Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.

From "I Know What You Think of Me" by Tim Kreider:

if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

[ax-y10]

promise

in which; wilbur comes home late and exhausted and brushes past his daughter

about; dad!bur au, so many different perspectives, angst to fluff, i wrote this in two hours very late at night so it's not the best, kisses, fighting, crying, wilbur being bad bad, wilbur ignoring your daughter, swearing, happy ending yayay, gender neutral, i think y/n is used once, anything along these lines

word count; 1.7k

taglist; @phxntomsdusk, @pheliiaa (ask to be added)

you heard the front door creak open, and you sent your daughter down to greet him. you stayed in her room, however, overthinking.

he was home late again from the studio, writing and figuring out songs for the new album. he was working hard, but was starting to forget about who lay at home, waiting for him.

you and your daughter made good use of time during the day when he wasn’t there. making little animals out of playdoh, making dinner for wilbur when he got home, or making silly stories with each other. however, it didn’t feel right.

it didn’t feel like when wilbur had promised to spend every waking moment with you and your daughter. he had promised that if it came to it, he would give up lovejoy, give up streaming, give up everything, to spend all of eternity with you both. but now, he wasn’t keeping the promise fulfilled.

you were cut off by the urgent footsteps of your daughter, and a very teary-eyed girl standing in the doorway. scooping her up, you cradle her against your chest and swing her back and forth, trying to cheer her up.

eventually, you had to break her walls and ask what was wrong.

“what happened? why’re you upset?”

“daddy…”

she was cut off by a loud sob erupting from her throat. she was just so heartbroken

“what did daddy do, sweetheart? do i need to go talk to him?”

it was a great effort trying to get a reason out in between her sobs and shaky breaths, but eventually, she got something out.

“daddy- he- he walked past me. i said hello and tried to hug him, but- but he- he didn’t say hello back. i offered the cupcakes and his- his dinner to him, but he just walked into his room. he just ‘hmphed’ and… ignored me.”

you were heartbroken by this point. he had left his daughter in tears, and his lover heartbroken, but you couldn’t keep sulking with your daughter.

cut to now. you were standing in your shared room with wilbur, arguing back and forth. stupid arguments spewed from his mouth, and sounds of disbelief spewed from yours. you were frustrated from his pure ignorance and bullshit excuses.

“i’m tired! do you not see that! you have to realise i don’t have all the time in the world to be with the people i love most! for fucks sake, you give no one a break, do you!”

each word spilled from his mouth shattered your heart. he didn’t understand.

“all you are worried about is me! all you are worried about is our daughter! all you are worried about is the little stupid things that do not need to have your mind occupied!”

he shouted more and more silly things, clearly not realising what he was saying.

“but that’s what we’re meant to be worried abou-“

“i don’t care! you need to stop! you need to calm the fuck down, sit the fuck down, and stop worrying. i get it, our daughter is very much upset, but im here, and im tired!”

why was he worried about himself?

“you quite simply ignored our daughter as soon as you opened that door! she offered everything her little mind could think of! the cupcakes we made today, the dinner we made for you, she said hello and tried to hug you and you walked past her, groaned, and ignored her! you’ve left her in tears in her bedroom, absolutely heartbroken, because of you! are you fucking brain dead, wilbur!”

he wasn’t going to deny that your words hurt him more than his hurt you. he was only just realising how much he was away from you and his daughter. how much time was spent without the smiling faces of the little love bugs that he leaves at home each day. he didn’t know what had gotten into hi-

“what happened to ‘i’ll give up everything. i’ll give up lovejoy, streaming, ill give up everything, to spend all of eternity with you’! you aren’t here anymore! you’re either not at home or you’re off with the fairies! what happened to us! are we not important! what happened to your family, wilbur! you must be fucking stupid, you bastard!”

that was the last thing he needed before he fell onto the bed and let the floodgates open. he hadn’t realised how much time he had spent away from you both. he was always worried about the release date of the next ep, or always occupied by something else. it must have been months since he truly recognised the warm smile of his daughter or the honey-sweet laugh of you. he didn’t realise that he was slipping down the same rabbit hole every one he knew was falling down. he needed to be present.

you were both fuming. you were pissed and he was frustrated.

it took him a good five minutes to register that you were gone. that you hadn’t offered him a hug, or a kiss, or even something as simple as a head rub. you had just walked off…

he immediately stood up and almost ran to his daughters room. he looked everywhere. you weren’t in there. you weren’t in the guest room, or the lounge room, or the bathroom, or even the kitchen. you were literally gone.

he was about to break down again, lose himself to panic, until the soft, wet laughs from his daughter reached his ears.

he found you both outside, your daughter laying in the grass, you tickling her. she had dried tear tracks on her face and red puffy eyes, you with the same. god she looked like you-

until the day he dies, he will never believe that your daughter looks like him. she has your hair, your eyes, your nose, your mouth. she has your beauty.

he sat down next to you after your daughter saw him and her smile dropped. he’d done so wrong-

“can i apologi-“

“wilbur go inside.”

“darling, plea-“

“wilbur.”

he stood once again and stepped inside. he grabbed his dinner and sat at the kitchen island. he let his eyes roam over every photo of you, of your daughter, of you and your daughter, of him and your daughter, of all of you-

he ate his dinner before it went cold, the small bowl of mac n’ cheese and mashed potato swallowed down before he trudged back to your shared room. he laid down and fell asleep almost instantly. he didn’t want the guilt to set in and ruin anything else.

meanwhile, you and your daughter were still laughing and rolling around in the grass. just before wilbur came out wanting to apologise, you had just calmed her down from her sobs and cries. she had voiced so many small sentences that were so incomprehensible, the sentence that you did catch was so heart-wrenching, you started crying again.

“do you and daddy still love me?”

you sobbed and endured shaky breaths but you got through it just for her.

“yes, of course, pumpkin. please don’t ever think we don’t love you.”

a shower and fresh set of pyjamas later, your daughter was asleep in her room, and you were pacing the lounge room, figuring out what to do.

do you sleep on the couch? do you sleep with wilbur? do you sleep in your daughters room? you simply didn’t know.

settling for your shared bedroom, you make your way to where wilbur was fast asleep, small breaths moving the curls on his head and the slight twitch in his arm from where you were absent.

you crawl under the sheets behind him, ignoring the slight hiccup in his sleep, and falling asleep with your head buried in his sleep shirt. the faint scent of cologne and rain luring you into sleep.

you woke to wilbur’s calloused fingers running across your face and through your hair, and finding rest on your shoulders. his slight bed head and tired face making him even prettier than usual. he’ll always dent that he looks pretty in the mornings, claiming that he looks weird with his messy hair or that his breath stinks, but everything is always brushed off with a wide smile from you and a kiss placed under his eye.

but as soon as the warm feeling came, it was pulled away as soon as he realised you had woken up. he thought that you were still angry at him, that you would get angry at him for being so close to you after last night. but he was surprised when he felt you move and pull his hand back to you face.

he continued his small gestures across your face, staring at your sleepy face maybe just a little longer than he should be, considering how horrible of a person he was last night. how absolutely self-centred he was, how he ignored your daughte-

“stop worrying, wil. i’m not angry.”

“i’m so sorry, for last nigh-”

“sweet, don’t apologise right now.”

“just let me, please?”

when he was met with a small nod, he continued.

“i’m so so so sorry about last night. i don’t know what had gotten in to me that made me ignore the two most beautiful things i call mine, but i feel absolutely horrible. i should not have said anything that i said. i shouldn’t have been so self-centred, i shouldn’t have ignored our daughter, i shouldn’t have argued with you. i’m sorry. i really am. and im sorry for not sticking by that promise. i promise that you and our daughter are going to be my number one priority from here on out. i love you.”

he finished his apology with a kiss to your forehead, to your nose, and finally to your lips. he threaded his hands back into your hair, and pulled off his shirt and gave it to you to keep you warm.

soon, your little ball of happiness walked into the room, laughing at the sight of you in wilbur’s shirt and him tickling you. you all calmed down eventually, and let your daughter climb into bed with both of you.

wilbur immediately smothered her in tight hugs and ticklish kisses pressed against her face. he apologised to her for ignoring her and made sure that she believed him before he dropped the subject.

you all spent the entire day doing things together. making playdoh animals, with wilbur. making dinner, with wilbur. making up silly stories, with wilbur. he was included in everything you did.