#i know everything will be fine eventually so im not too stressed !!!!

[kaleidoskuls]

why must thamepo pit two bad bitches against eachother this way 😔

[ame-to-ame]

.

[early-october-skies]

Me when we don't speak anymore by bears in trees

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when they're dating their co-member's idol!sister! 

AN: I used NCT members as a whole in this one ??? because it's much funnier tbh and the case might be different (I already did Dreamies' sister ver). Also in this scenario, they're supposed to be in a secret relationship but was caught by Dispatch LOL (no NCT Wish yet, I'm sorry! Still haven't get to know them better ><) 

Mark Lee

LMAO. Doyoung wouldn't know how to feel when he learned that you've been dating Mark for YEARS. So the times you went to their dorm wasn't because of him, but because of Mark!?!?!? Plus you were CAUGHT by Dispatch, so that doubled his stress. Unfortunately, your brother loves Mark like a younger brother. So after a hefty interrogation with him, he gives you his blessings and was still bitter that you two hid it from him. He knows that Mark will take good care of you and wouldn't hurt you two. (Mark will be dead if he does so.)

Huang Renjun

Yangyang will feel BETRAYED because Renjun is dating you and he only found out through Dispatch. I mean, that's his best friend and sister! He was surprised that you two were sneaking behind his back, but he'll find it funny and cute, unexpected too because Renjun never shown interest about you. He would probably interrogate you first before dragging Renjun in the scene. Yangyang would probably be chill about it because he trusts Renjun so much, just be prepare for a numerous teasing and pulling the "i'm telling y/n" card on Renjun. 

Lee Jeno

OH it's going to be a tension. Yuta will be SHOCK and the funny thing was that, he was in Japan when he learned about you and Jeno. He probably sent YOU tons of messages and calls while you panic over your relationship being revealed. When you were not answering, Yuta resorted to Jeno who was much calmer than you. Actually, Yuta knows that Jeno's a good kid, he just wants to make sure that you're choosing the right guy, and you did! Jeno was very respectful during the call and even told Yuta that he'll take care of everything. Yuta was in relief but that doesn't excuse him to talk to Jeno personally when he went back to Korea.

Lee Donghyuck

Oh, the first thing Ten will say to Haechan, "are you sure?" he doesn't mind that you two are dating and that you two have been dating for MONTHS. Like the typical teasing brother he was, Ten will ask Haechan if you brainwashed him or something, and you just have to kick him right there. Haechan will find it funny that Ten wasn't mad at all and that he's actually quiet pretty chill, but still, he also want Ten's approval so he made quite a speech about how serious he is about you, and Ten will just whip up a smile and ruffle Haechan's hair.

Na Jaemin

Jungwoo loves Jaemin like a younger brother, so he doesn't know what to feel when he learned that Jaemin's dating you without telling him. And that's been going on for years! He was also worried because you might receive backlash, so he was surprise when you and Jaemin appeared in front of their dorm. It was an hour of serious talk between the two of them and you SWORE that you never saw your brother this serious. As soon as the talk ended, Jungwoo will return to his usual self and ended up asking you two about your love life like a gossipy auntie.

Zhong Chenle

Oh pookie. Johnny loves Chenle so much. Like that's his little brother right there! He'll be pretty chill when he learned that you two are dating but he'll be mad as hell because you two were exposed by Dispatch. He was worried that it might ruin your image so he called you and asked you about it! You assured him that you're fine and things are being settled. Johnny would probably tease you eventually and ask you how you two started dating lol. Catch Johnny calling Chenle, "brother-in-law" whenever the two of them meet. 

Park Jisung

How can Taeyong find out he's in the military. JOKE IM SO SORRY. But the moment Taeyong finds out that you're dating Jisung the first thing he'll think was "damn, both of them have matured." and second, "Fuck Dispatch." JK. Anyways, he would probably try to contact you first. Will ask if you're okay and that he heard the news. You'll apologize to him for hiding it and probably understands why you did it. Then he'll try chatting Jisung about it and will be SURPRISE that Jisung sent a long-ass message about it. That's when he realized that Jisung's genuine about you! He'll be sentimental and think that time flies so fast. 

[sainzzsturns]

Beach Day

R. Cameron x reader

category: fluff

warnings: past drug use mention, teary rafe

summary: family day at the beach

a/n: sorry for it being so short, i’m lwk depressed so i’ve got no motivation lol love this man though

“baby, she’s gonna be cold and get sick…” rafe muttered annoyed from the sand, watching you and your baby sit together on the shallow water, only small waves hitting your feet.

“rafe, handsome, it’s not even cold out, she’s having the time of her life” you chuckle, watching the toddler splash water around.

the older cameron snickers, walking over to you, “should we re-apply sunscreen-”

“rafe, jesus christ! can you stop freaking out and have some fun with us? everything is fine, i promise.” you interrupt.

“right- right- sorry i just wanna make sure im doing everything right…”

“love, you’re the best dad ever, stop stressing so much, otherwise you’re gonna spend more time freaking out than with your daughter” you reason, gently, but making sure your message gets through.

he sighs, finally sitting down beside you, pulling his shirt off, “you’re right, sorry baby…”

“don’t apologize, you’re good” you smile, kissing his cheek.

he smiles, holding your cheek, pulling your face as to properly kiss him. in between pecks, your daughter giggles, poking her dad’s chest, trying to get his attention.

rafe grabs a hold of her, poking her belly too, making her laugh, throwing herself against the water.

as he laughs and shakes her playfully, the water continues to hit her body, eventually getting into her eyes. now, any other kid would’ve gotten slightly scared and their parents would clean their eyes and they’d go back to normal. not your daughter, her dramatic genes (she probably got from her father) made her hysterically scream and cry, throwing a tantrum.

rafe though, started freaking out. immediately pulling her up into his arms and running over to your bag where bottles of water were sitting.

when the stinging in her eyes stopped and she calmed down, rafe looked up from the sun chair he sat on, his lost puppy eyes and lip pouted.

“hey, it’s okay, honey. she’s alright, everyone’s got salt water in their eyes at least once” you tried comforting, but it was no use.

“but it was my fault, i let the stupid ocean hurt my baby girl- see i told you this wasn’t a good idea…” he rambled.

“rafe, handsome, it’s okay, accidents happen. all she’ll remember is how her daddy saved her, okay? you’re good.” you chuckled softly, rubbing his back as he gazed down at the baby snuggled in his arms. “it’s late and she was getting fussy anyway, the sun’s already setting, let’s go home, yeah?”

the older man nodded, wrapping a towel around the baby girl, holding her against his body, rocking her gently. you chuckled, grabbing the bags and car keys.

when you finally got home, rafe made sure to feed her properly and give her a nice shower before tucking her in, wanting to "compensate" for his earlier mistake.

after coming down the stairs, rafe sits beside you on the couch, your hand instinctively rubbing against his buzz cut.

he sighs, resting his head against your shoulder. “i’m scared of messing up…”

“messing what up?” you ask, leaning forward to look at him.

“this whole fatherhood thing… what if im not a good dad?”

“rafe, sweetie, you went through so much trouble with your dad, i’m sure you know what our daughter does and doesn’t need in a dad…” you attempt to comfort, kissing his forehead.

“still, what if i mess up? what if i neglect her enough to make her do drugs like me? what if—”

“rafe.” you interrupted, “don’t ever say something like that. you fell into that because of multiple reasons, we won’t let her, okay? you didn’t have your mom to turn to… so even if you accidentally neglect her — which i’ll make sure you don’t — i’ll be there for her. and look at you, even though you fell into that you’re here, doing well, with your own business, wife and kid. everything will be fine, alright? i’m right here with you…”

“thank you, sweetheart. i know that as long as you’re with me everything will be alright. thank you for always being here for me…”

“of course, i love you more than anything, rafe” you nod, cupping his cheeks.

his slightly glossy eyes close as his chin, tucked into a pout, trembles. you instantly hug him, kissing his head and rubbing his back repeatedly, whispering soft words to him.

“i love you more, gorgeous”

you chuckle softly, kissing him.

[dfortrafalgar]

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)

Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.

I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!

You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link

(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)

A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.

A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.

The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.

All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.

Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.

"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.

-- Sanji"

Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?

Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.

Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.

The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Zeff flipped to the last photo.

The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.

Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.

Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.

[sea-of-dust]

Hello c:

can I request Akira and Ryuji with a f!s/o who is going through her period

(I'm suffering the wrath of cramps 😭)

This is the worst....

Ryuji and Joker/Akira x Fem!Reader

Summary: you're on your period with them trying to help you

Notes: HI Hi annon!, dw I feel ya 💀 ALSO I GOT THE OTHER MESSAGE IM SORRY I MADE YOU WAIT SO LONG 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

Warnings: mentions of blood, the hell of period craps

He has futaba he already knows what it must be like for you maybe even worse, so he brings you stuff you like in hopes you don't turn into a fire breathing dragon and spit fire (futaba)

Offers to do your homework for you or help you with it. He wants you to rest, don't stress about it too much not like he memmorised your handwriting for this exact purpose. So what if they aren't causing you that much pain you rest watch him speed run homework.

He lays his head on your stomach sometimes, this could lead to teasing unless you were actually about to make futabas story real. "Hey leave my girlfriend alone stomach" "stop qouting that!" Getting you to laugh made it worth it

He will lay with you even if you don't ask you could take a nap and wake up with him on his phone next to you. "You're awake?" Scooing over with a chipper grin on his face he shows you his phone "take a peak at this" as he shows you the video you don't notice him sneaking his arm under your torso to pull you into his chest. "Felt that" "awe" you feel him lean over you to kiss your cheek "I woulda got you this time sure of it" smiling weakly you kiss him back "not a chance"

He does cook for you during these times. The godsend of his cooking always make you forget about the pain and misfortune of these unfortunate times. "I can spoon feed you if you want" "YES"

He looks like his brains about to explode when he learns your on your period. "Ohhh that time of the month. No biggie!" Until you didn't show up to school one day because of your cramps

He did come running to your house with pads and the plush you kept hugging when you stayed in his. "Miss l/n it's an emergency please let me stay with your daughter!" "Oh you must be Ryuji! She talks so much about you!" Her eyes water as she fondly tells him about the times you spoke about him. It was nice but what was great was sneaking away mid rant. "Y/n!" "Ryuji?!"

He takes oddly great care of you, offering you food and bringing a game with him. "You brought alot-" "well yea I didn't know what you were in the mood for so I brought everything I knew ya liked" "They're gonna last me years..." "perfect!"

Only lays next to you if you ask him to. Feels like if he moves the wrong way it'll make you uncomfortable. So when you eventually get him to lay next to you he's just a board, his mind comming up with all sorts of theories for what would happen if he even breathed wrong.

So the next day you came to school the guy was with you every step. "Ryuji your classrooms next door" "what if you pass out" "they aren't that bad worse case I end up vomiting" "what if there's no bag!" You sigh patting his shoulder "listen I'll be fine" it's gonna take the bell to ring for him to finally give in. Doesn't mean he isn't walking you home keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

[lunajay33]

Change Part.9

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.8

•Masterlist•

After a few hectic days and loads of stress we made it to a farm, along the way we lost Sofia, but Daryl hasn’t given up, everyone was setting up tents and Daryl wanted to set up farther from the group across the field, finally finishing putting our little camp together I slumped down on a lawn chair completely exhausted, my heart felt weak and my head was fuzzy

“Hey im bought ta head out fer sophia…..hey ya okay?” Daryl asked quickly kneeling infront of me

“Daryl…..I don’t feel so good” my head falling forward to lean on his shoulder

“What’s goin on what’s wrong?” His voice was laced with panic

“I don’t….dont know” I slurred as my vision was nothing but a blur and his panicked voice was distant

Feeling my body be lifted and being cradled by his safe arms, hearing him scream as my body was jostled as he ran

“HELP!” Soon hearing distant murmurs of others surrounding then everything went silent as darkness took over

Daryl’s Pov

“Quick lay her on the bed” Hershel said motioning to the bed

“What happened?” Maggie asked as she started taking her blood pressure

“Don’t know, she was fine this mornin then she just got faint, will she be okay?” I asked my body riddled with nerves

“Might just be stress especially with being pregnant it’ll affect her more, all we can do is wait and hope she’ll be okay when she wakes up” Hershel said as Beth laid a bowl of cold water and a clothe on the bed side table before they all left leaving just the both of us…..well technically the three of us

This isn’t what I wanted fer her, fer us, she was always so excited about havin a baby together and this is the luck we get even after all the shit we had to go through

Flashback

“Daryl can I ask you something?” She asked as she curled up next to me in bed

“Anythin sunshine”

“Would you ever consider I don’t know…..having a baby with me?” My heart skipped a beat, she’s hinted to this before but she sounded serious now, almost desperate

“Daryl you okay?” She asked looking up at me

“ ‘m fine just…..ya sure ya want that with me?”

“Of course D you know there’s no one else I’d rather experience my life with, you’re everything to me, but I don’t want this if it’s too much for you baby”

“Nah I want this, that baby would be the luckiest baby I the world ta have ya as a mom, but let’s wait we’re still young pumpkin” I suggest as I kiss her forehead

“It’ll happen when it happens, and when it does it’ll be amazing”

She’s a gift from god, she’s made everythin better in my life and that’s all I wanted to give back but how in this screwed up shithole of the world

“How’s she doing?” I looked back seeing Lori at the door

“Don’t know” I grumbled going back to focusing on her holding her hand in mine

“She’ll be okay, she’s strong” she said before she left, all I could focus on was the love of my life

Wringing out the cold clothe and dabbing her forehead I remembered the first time she got sick in front of me and tried to act all tough

Coming home from work I called out waiting for her to come running with open arms like she always did but all I got was her groaning from our bedroom

“Sunshine?”

Walking into the room I see her curled up on the bed with blankets sprawled everywhere and tissues littering the floor

“Daryl?” She whimpered as I sat on the bed next to her, her lips pale and her nose ruby red

“Baby what’s going on what happened?” I asked rubbing my hand up and down her thigh

“It’s my period and the cold, mixed together to try and kill me”

“Not my peach, I’ll get ya back and runnin”

“No D I can’t have you do that, you’ve been working all day, I’m fine”

“Ya can’t stop me I’ll always be here ta help ya”

“I love you Daryl”

“Love ya more pumpkin”

Normal Pov

My head was pounding all I could remember was sitting around the camp before everything became hazy

“Hello?” I managed to groan out slowly opening my eyes

“Hey ya okay, I’m here sunshine” he said as I felt his hand smooth down my hair, I sat up quickly confused

“Ya need anything?”

“Who……who are you?” His face seemed to drop but I didn’t know anything that was going on, where I was, who he was, how I even got here?

“Princess it’s me, Daryl your husband”

“I’m sorry I don’t know anything”

He left the room soon coming back with an older man with white hair and a younger girl with short brown hair

“How’re you feeling, any dizziness? Pain anywhere?” He asked pressing a stethoscope to my belly for some reason

“Ummm no not really, everything feels fine except I don’t know anything”

“Well what can you remember dear?”

“Well my name is y/n Dixon and I’m a ballerina!” The guy next to my bed clamming to be my husband smiled at that

“It seems the stress from everything has caused her mind to shut down parts of her memory to protect herself, it may come back with time most likely only temporary, just be patient with her”

Memory loss what the hell was happening

“Come on my ballerina let’s go get settled” my ‘husband’ said helping me up from the bed then leaving the house to a beautiful farm land

“I’m sorry I can’t remember” I said twiddling with my fingers nervously

“Ain’t yer fault Angel, it’ll be okay, my name is Daryl by the way”

“Are we camping or something what’s with all the tents?”

“Ya just a bunch of friends came together to uhhhh have some time away from everything” he said his eyes downcast

“Oh well that’s fun! I do have to say though if you are my husband I’m pretty lucky you’re very handsome” i said seeing his cheeks blush warming my heart

“Ya still got that about ya” he smiled as his fingers grazed mine

“Do we have any kids together?”

“Not yet, ya haven’t noticed yer pregnant?”

PREGNANT

I ran my hand down my belly finally noticing a bigger bump than would be just normal belly, my heart was beating fast and I felt sick

“Daryl I don’t know if I can do this, this is too much oh god” I said starting to panic as he steered me to sit in a near by camp chair

“Hey it’ll be okay baby, just breath I’ll be here with ya ever step of the way”

“I’m scared” my lip trembled

“I know I know but ya have ta breath it ain’t good fer ya or the baby”

“You promise not to leave me”

“I promise”

“Hey you’re up how’re you feeling?” A man with a sheriffs hat on

“She’s got memory lose, tryna take it easy, good thing we’re campin to help her relax”

“Right yeah, camping will help calm everything, I’m Rick, got yourself a pretty amazing man here, he’d do anything for you, never seen a love like yours” he smiled patting Daryl’s shoulder

“Thanks Rick, that’s good to know, so far he’s been pretty amazing, he must be if I’m having his baby apparently” I laughed as I felt a bit more calm

After Rick and Daryl re introduced me to everyone I didn’t feel as isolated, but everytime Daryl’s hand would graze against my skin or softly touch my lower back a tingle would shot through me of complete joy

“So am I really a ballerina or was that another side affect from the amnesia” I asked Daryl as I laid next to him in our tent

“Of course ya are, I like ta call ya and the baby my lil ballerinas, when we were younger ya loved the black swan, I bought ya yer first pair of slippers, I still remember the look on yer face, ya looked so happy, that’s when I knew I loved ya and would never let ya go” he said as he brushed my hair aside

“I wish I remembered, just being around you makes me feel so happy like no matter what I’m meant to be with you and I can’t even remember”

“I’ll tell ya everything ya wanna know, we just gotta give it time Hershel said anything could trigger yer memory maybe this’ll help”

“Okay ummm how did we meet?”

“We got assigned to be partners in school, best day of my life, ya never gave up on me”

“Where do we live?”

“Ummm in a small house bordering the town we grew up in” his expression seemed to change

“Oh that sounds nice, little cozy place I’m sure the baby will love that, do we have a nursery set up?”

“Not yet baby, we’ve……been camping a while” he said as his hand rubbed up and down my belly as I sat up infront of him now

“When will we go home, I wanna see our home D” I don’t know where that nickname came from but it felt right

“Ummm ya hungry sunshine? Want me ta make ya anything?” He said changing the subject but this must be hard on him too

“Oh umm I’m okay, I think I’ll just head to sleep now it’s been a long day”

“Okay pumpkin, it gets cold at night so if ya need anything wake me up okay baby?” His nicknames made my heart fill with joy which made the baby kick gently

“Okay D, good night” I smiled leaning over and placing a soft kiss to his check

“Night, I love ya”

Part.10

Hey guys sorry it’s been a while I’ve been kinda depressed hope you liked this chapter

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @shadowrose13-blog1 @absssposts @writer-ann-artist @dgeckobones @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove @minnie-min @severelykinky @mordilwen-of-mirkwood

[carlarosenakilah]

I'm taking a break from The Osix Family and Wilted Ivory

Hi, you've read that right. I'll proceed to go into detail undercut

Warning that the following will be containing very sensitive topics such as su***idal thoughts, mental health issues, and whatever the fuck I went through to get me here and I don't know how to describe nor name them but overall its not pretty.

Getting straight to the point- im drained. I'm in a horrible place right now and I need to take a step back before it might escalate into something worse.

The Osix Family is always something that I will forever dedicate to. It has comforted me, carried me, and saved me from killing myself three years ago.

I asked myself, "If I'm not here, who will tell the story of The Osix Family?"

That made me stay alive, and im greatful for that because if not, I wouldn't have been where I am today standing with the coolest people I have ever met and my amazing partner in crime @alexusespido-dod.

I love Wilted Ivory too, and that's where it gets tricky.

My only plan for Wilted Ivory is to simply tell a story about growth expressed as a musical au. Hence why the art is so simple– not just to match the original Casino Cups style, but just to tell a story that I hope would inspire and comfort others. Of course, I'm happy it gained lota of love.

The Osix Family though is a different story.

Like I said, it means a lot to me, so I put so much time and energy into this series. I sacrifice time that could've been used to study for the next exam, but instead im working on the next few panels or planning the music and etc. Blood sweat and tears (literally) into making sure the art looks good, story is properly conveyed, scenes carefully picked. Even if it gained me bad scores in my exams that made me stress over about, in the end it was worth it to me. I didn't care if I'd be sick an unable to move, as long as I could at least think about it, then I would be happy.

Episode 3 was my worst.

I overworked myself for that episode. I was always in front of my tablet, I never moved out of my seat, I was just there, working on it even if it was 1 in the morning and that I should be sleeping. I told myself: "Everything will pay off! Sure you're in so much pain right now, but eventually it will all pay off! Episode 3 is looking good and interesting! This will FINALLY gain the audience and love the story deserves!"

I was proud.

Until I wasn't.

Reality hit me like a saw. The moment the episode was released I was hopeful. But nothing happened. It was all the same.

And it just hurt how something as simple as Wilted Ivory can easily gain attention and love because it was Cuphead related something well known. Meanwhile, The Osix Family–despite everything–is just barely seen.

I started to doubt myself. To question myself. Was I not doing enough. What more can I do. What should I do. Am I not good enough?

Is the story just not good enough?

That broke me. I began to have thoughts I shouldn't have. I wanted to end it all. I wanted to quit and disappear from the world. Because what was the point in pouring so much love into something only for it to dismissed.

Its not like I simply began having these thoughts.

I've had them over and over again.

As much as I hated involving him, my partner, Alex, had to deal with the many times I nearly ended it. To the point where even if he was in school, he'd go out of his way to stop me, I still feel guilty, even if he said it was fine.

I don't understand myself anymore.

Why do I even have such an attachment to this series? Its just a stupid silly series for funsies isn't it? Why does my life to depend on it?

Unfortunately, it just does.

It sucks. Pushing away my needs for the sake of this passion, only for it to just not go as I hoped it would go. Did I mention I'm also losing followers on the osix family blog? Thats so silly and coquette.

I'm so sorry if im coming off as guilt-trippy, please I don't want it to sound that way, I just want to express how deeply troubled I am because to me it actually DOES HURT.

I envy people who couldn't give a flying fuck about whether or not their stuff goes famous or gets love, I don't even understand why I am so dependent or hungry on whatever attention it gets. I hate that im like this. I want to be free from it but I just crave it.

So, for the sake of my mental health and whatever is left of my sanity, im taking a break, for good.

I will not be updating The Osix Family or Wilted Ivory at this very moment. For how long? It depends on how fucked up I have actually turned out to be today.

I might still post, keyword: MIGHT, its not any update but to just simply draw for myself, but the chances of me posting anything is horribly low.

I'm going to focus on myself, my needs, and whatever makes me happy or have fun with.

To those who supported The Osix Family or even bothered to check it out: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

It means a lot to me, you have NO idea. Every single like, reblog, comment, hype or even the silliest amounts of theories or thoughts, they make me so happy, it actually heals me.

I can't remember names im sorry, but there was a time someone expressed how they were invested in the lore and loved the world building, it really made my day. Or when someone pointed out some small details on my waiting in a miracle animatic, it warmed my heart.

I have troubles expressing it, but im so, SO greatful.

Especially when some of my mutuals started making OCS FOR THE SERIES?? Like– it felt like a HUGE compliment.

I cant believe im tearing up as im typing this haha im so stupid lmao, but

Thank you. A lot.

And to those who weren't really into The Osix Family, its okay, don't feel bad, sometimes things are just not our cup of tea, I just needed to express my grief, cause honestly bottling it up isn't going to end well for me (and it really didn't multiple times).

I apologize for any false hope or let down your hype as Wilted Ivory was just starting and The Osix Family was finally coming back– but this treatment is overwhelming me that I need to take a step back.

That's all for now.

Thank you for... actually reading, you listening means a lot to me too.

Goodbye.

[forsworned]

hey pookie i saw your requests were open so i thought id drop by with this little nugget

simon x older sister reader who loves her family more than anything but has a weird inner turmoil with them kind of like fiona gallagher style

sort of “as your child im still mad but as a human i forgive you”

possibly military x cop brat, had to step up to raise her siblings and she’s thankful for everything her parents did for them and understands both are traumatized but also has a lot of resentment for the amount of stress and caretaking she did for her parents and her siblings.

really shows with the way she loves simon too. always taking care of him bc it’s the only thing she knows how to do to show someone you love him and it’s exactly what simon thinks he needs, someone to borderline mother him with their affection and caretaking. but he starts to feel almost condescended?? when she won’t let him take care of her. she feels unheard bc she has this feeling, no matter how unjustified, that if she doesn’t do everything herself it won’t get done. only way they know to argue is yelling but after a few really difficult nights they sit down and eventually they start to sort it out

they’re just two traumatized people leaning to love eachother your honor

"How was work today?"

You inquire, chopping the leek on the wooden board before tossing it into the pot. Simon glances over at the dark circles under your eyes, and your hunched stances over the stove before you peer over at him.

"' was fine." He slowly moves closer to you. "Lemme help." He puts his hand over yours and reflexively jerks your hand away from him.

"I'm fine." You practically spit at him. His eyes harden slightly at your reaction. Knowing the past family trauma that you had both been through it was common, but today, Simon's patience is wearing thin.

"You're not fine." He retorts, taking the knife out of your hand. You try yank it back, but he's quicker. "I want to take care of you for once, [name]. Let me. Please."

Simon begging to help you isn't new, but usually, he had given up to avoid confrontation. Today, however, he is not backing down so quickly.

You lip quivers. "If I don't do it—"

"—No one will?" Simon finishes for you. He scoffs, setting the knife down on the counter. You reach for it again and he slides it away further from you. "Tha's a load of horseshit and you know it. 'm not some incompetent fool. I can take care of myself and you."

You avert your gaze to the kitchen tile, letting out a shaky breath as you wipe away the tears pricking at your eyes with the back of your sleeve. "It's all I know how to do." You whisper, hugging yourself. "Ever since Mom and Dad passed..."

You choke on your sobs, and Simon sighs before wrapping his burly arms around you in a comforting hug. His chin rests on the top of your head, and you swallow thickly.

"I know, I know." He rubs your arm. "But we're all grown up now, eh?"

He pulls back to look down at you, and his words make you crack a smile through your tears. "Yeah, we are."

"So stop being so harsh on yourself. Live your life for you, [name]." He stares intently at you, gently jostling you with every word. You nod and rub your eyes again.

"Besides, I know you've got a thing for Johnny and..." He begins, and your cheeks warm at his unexpected words.

He raises his brows at your bashful expression before chuckling.

"I don't!" You protest, crossing your arms, but Simon sees right through you.

"He says he's been dying to tell you—"

"Lalalalala!" You cover your ears with your hands as you run out of the kitchen. He shakes his head as he resumes the cooking you left behind. If it gets you out of taking care of him, he'd do it again and again. The biggest perk? He was telling the truth. So, his plan to get you out of the house is already working.

"Killin two birds with one stone," Simon murmurs to himself, smiling as he stirs the pot.

[gatitties]

HEY HEY HOW R U DOING. ITS FINALLY CHRISTMAS TIME SO MERRY CHRIMUH (2023 passed too fast…) im the one who asked for the strawhats x anxiety! Teen! Reader!!!! And im an angsty person so I just wanna ask…

Can you write Strawhats x struggling! Teen! Reader?? It’s the exact same reader btw, they’re strong and kind and helpful and so sweet, has a tough exterior even if they’re just a kid and the youngest on the ship. And when I mean struggling I mean that they deal with self h*te, their anxiety got worse and so on. They didn’t plan to tell the crew but the crew has noticed their behavior. How they go to their room instead of playing with them like they used to, how they just sit down and zone out, a habit of their’s being to put their hand up to their face and rub in annoyance and stress just like they do with the hand on the chest when they’re anxious. The crew sees them being gloomy when they’re alone or whenever the adults look away (putting on the facade) and the reader doesn’t look like they’re taking care of themselves and they’re looking tired and unmotivated.

(kinda describing me a lil bit I just wanna see my comfort characters react to this sorta thing-)

And they finally confront her about it and after some convincing they finally spill all thats inside and get the love that they don’t think they deserve!!! I love angst sorry…

(Before I wrote this I checked through your rules to see if this kinda thing wasn’t allowed. I didn’t see anything opposing my idea but just know that if you feel uncomfy with this sorta thing then thats ok and you can just ignore this ask.❤️ Or maybe you could reply with a little “no” just so me and others know that ur not ok with it. I wanna be respectful!)

ANYWAY I HOPE U HAVE A GOOD CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR. PLEASE AND TY.

─Strawhats x teen!reader (platonic)

─Summary: You thought everything would be fine after your anxiety attacks subsided, but it was just the calm before your mind played with you.

─Warnings: none

(Related post)

ayy sorry I'm a little late with this one but here it is 😭, I hope you had a good Christmas, that you started the year on the right foot and may everything go well for now!! 😌

─ You thought your anxiety attacks would end once you confessed how you felt to the crew, partially accepting their help, and while it worked for a while, you went back into your shell.

─ The mind of adolescents is incredibly moldable, and yours decided to take the most contemptuous path towards yourself, the attacks were controlled, but the self-hatred that you began to feel towards yourself made them return.

─ You felt guilty and your pride did not allow you to seek help a second time, feeling that you would be more of a nuisance to the rest.

─ Your appearance underwent changes as well as your behaviors, your energy was drained, you began to lock yourself in your room more, not be present at group celebrations…

─ Eventually they noticed your sudden change again, everything was fine and from one day to the next you become like a stranger with them again, Robin could notice it instantly.

─ All your actions gave you away, but Chopper recognized the signs of anxiety, your rapid breathing, your eyes moving uncontrollably, although he did not understand why you touched your face so much, he thought it was one of the causes of your anxiety.

─ They accepted that you were a stubborn teenager, but this had to be nipped in the bud just as Nami said once she found out that your anxiety attacks had gotten worse lately, since the indirect way of helping wasn't working now.

─ It was much more stressful for you that they decided to confront you directly, since you used to run away from conversations related to your well-being, being something that you feel insecure talking about, you preferred to avoid it.

─ You tried to escape from that talk with bad excuses, but Sanji's kindness made you sit in the chair like a scolded child.

─ Jinbe silenced Luffy because he knew that he was going to be too direct with you, and although they wanted to be, they needed a little tact to talk to you, Usopp took care of that.

─ You avoided eye contact for most of the talk, not wanting to confront them while you spoke.

─ Again, you ended up crying as you let your feelings come to light, you felt trapped enough to let it all out, much more sincerely than the previous time, feeling a little embarrassed by your cruel thoughts towards you.

─ Luffy scolded you again, but he gave you the best hug you could have received in years, everyone joined in afterwards, except Zoro, who watched from afar with a small smile.

─ You felt calmer after the talk, but it will still be difficult for you to express yourself about how you feel, they assured you that it was okay, that it was okay to want to have some time alone when you feel bad, but that they will always be there to help you with all your problems whatever they are.

[seikkoi]

ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ | ᴛᴏɴʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

18+ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ

content/warnings: named reader, explicit sexual content (very end), alcohol consumption, mentions of financial issues, employer/employee relations, explicit mentions of mental health issues (reader has the anxieties™), mentions of physical injuries, set in canon universe before aou.

genre: mostly angst ngl, sm*t at the very very end

word count: 7,463 im sorry

a/n: lightly inspired by the song 'october' by rothstein

dedicated to: the lovely @alessandraavengers

"Maybe you should worry about yourself, Stark. I've been doing just fine before you decided to make my job your business."  Tony's jaw clenches, and a shaky hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.  “My business is your job."

I won't complain,

I will be decent, 

though it will be freezing,

I welcome the rain.

The hands of the clock on the wall ticked silently, a sign of the building’s expense. You clutched a leather binder filled with papers in your lap as you sat. Everything you had to show for the last seven years of your life. Countless awards, certificates, recommendations—the expensive bachelor's and the bank account-draining master’s. Your leg bounced on the dark mahogany, steadily increasing frequency as seconds turned into minutes.

Ironically, this would also be interview number seven. For the job you were least qualified for. You applied for close to twenty at this point, all well below your skill, but you were desperate. You had barely a year of experience—quitting your first job one year out of school after one-too-many sixty hour work weeks. The moment you turned in your resignation, dread and regret over your choice in profession filled you. It held you down, sleeping and rotting the days away. Eventually, reality set in, pulled you out of bed and back into the corporate world. 

Turns out, lack of experience and ‘quitting with notice’ is less than ideal.

You hoped a step down in prestige would result in less stress. All your fantasies of a top floor corner office and luxury disappeared like ash under a light rain. You always held expensive tastes that you couldn’t sustain unemployed.  But the stress wasn’t worth it. All you needed now was to pay the bills. Too quickly ‘over-qualified’ or ‘under-experienced’ became your least favorite words. You had to fight back the dread every time you checked your email. 

Just when you’d started pondering entry-level positions, a notification came through for a new vacancy ‘Fit for your skillset!’. To your dismay, the description sounded no different than the job you left. More grueling expectations and personal sacrifice. On top of that, you still were under-experienced by their requirements. Not to mention who it was for. Overworked employees typically miss most current events, but far too much has been going on with this company to make even you pay attention. Working for such a high-profile, drama-ridden company might be even worse.  But after weeks and not so much as an offer letter, you had to try anything. On the plus side, at least it paid well.

Three days later, you found yourself inside of Stark Tower, wishing the silent clock would move faster.

Square breathes, internal mantras—nothing worked. Your heels still made a gentle clack against the floor. Thankfully, the general noise of the front lobby kept it from being a nuisance. 

What you swear is eons later, your ears prick up to a similar click growing near you. You turn your head as a tall blonde approaches the small waiting area. She stops at the front desk a moment, making your heart skip a beat when the receptionist points to you. 

‘Just relax, you know what to say.’ you thought to yourself. ‘They won’t hire you if you’re a nervous wreck.’

You manage to muster what little confidence you had left after weeks of rejection to stand and straighten your dress as she greets you. Thankfully, the smile she extends is friendly enough. The hand you feel is soft and manicured too— acute tells of an easy life.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ms. Potts, I’ll be bringing you up to meet Mr. Stark.” she says, turning and heading further into the lobby.

‘Maybe this won’t be too hard. Maybe this job won’t be like the last.’

-

During the entire elevator ride to Mr. Stark’s office, Ms. Potts spews out factoids about Stark Industries but you’re too busy rethinking your entire interview strategy. Something about a cave, Obadiah Stane and a wormhole whizzes through your ear to no reaction. It was nothing you hadn’t already read in the weekly papers, nor did it ease you one bit. 

You were even more taken aback when you realize you’re descending, and the silver doors open to a spacious garage. The faint sound of movement echoes, source unseen. You turn to Miss Potts, who only gives another pleasant smile and gestures into the concrete space.

Sure, the whole world knew Tony Stark was a bit eccentric. You knew that well enough when you applied. Hell, it probably explained the vacancy. Maybe this was some type of strategy, or just his nature. Either way, something was screaming at you to tell Miss Potts you had changed your mind, go home and apply for anything else. 

Then, you remembered how badly you wanted success. You couldn’t accept anything less.

The elevator closed quietly behind you as you exited, looking for the source of the noise. There’s cars (some ridiculously new and some pathetically old), studded workbenches, and chaotic piles of robotics and machinery strewn about. You have to round the corner to find him, behind a small bar tucked away from the metal mess everywhere else. 

He’s turned away from you, seated at the bar with eyes glued on a few papers before him. An ornate pen signs away without pause. You’re certain the sound of your heels against the floor gave you away, but you’re sure to clear your throat to not shock him. 

Mr. Stark, clad in a grease-stained white tee and dark denim, shifts in the barstool slightly to give you a cursory look. You can tell immediately his mind is lightyears away from the present situation, focused elsewhere. On a lighter note, you notice how much kinder he looks in person. All the magazines and op-eds made his face harsh, never smiling. 

“You’re the one who applied for assistant thingy right? Miss…” Stark trails off, scanning back through the papers in front of him. There’s a slight slur in his speech, one that forces you to remember the early hour.

“Cassian.” you interrupt his search and he laughs, abandoning the papers for a shiny glass on the counter.

He brings the amber liquid to his lips before he speaks again. 

“Right, Cassian, look—” The glass finds its way back to the solid surface despite his sway. He stands once it does, facing you with a wide smile. “You’re hired!” 

With that, you’re left more dumbfounded, staring at the billionaire as he sauntered over to one of the cluttered workbenches. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I really don’t understand—” You turn towards him as he walks by, not sparing you another glance.

When he reaches the middle of the garage, he lets out an exhausted sigh. The familiar regret seeps in, turning your nerves up another notch.

“The woman that probably brought you here—Pepper, she used to be my assistant, and handle all the tabloid bullsuit.” he mutters, fiddling with a wrench from the bench. 

“After the whole ‘tower nearly blowing up’ situation, she’s taken a step uh-out of my life. For better or worse. I didn’t wanna hire anyone else, she’s convinced I can’t manage my own life— we compromised.”

You start to speak, trying to formulate the right words to say. Stark pays it no mind, tossing the wrench back down gently.

He pivots towards you, and you see the stress in his eyes. You can see why she’d quit-hell you were starting to wish you never applied. The name ‘Stark’ proliferated in the papers these days.

“Offer letter is signed, on the bar, job’s there if you want it.” With that, he walks across the garage, past you into the elevator. 

The electronic ding! sounds, leaving you in the garage alone without another word. You’re convinced this is a terrible idea- even before whatever that just was.

Something sparks your curiosity to look at the signed papers, and put a dollar amount to this madness. You walk back to the bar, grabbing the stack of papers with a faint ring of water in the corner.

You’re certain you’re dreaming when you count the number of zeros. 

THREE WEEKS LATER

You were ready for retirement at the ripe age of twenty-six.

This was a new type of demand. Running nearly every aspect of Tony Stark’s life didn’t eat your soul, but it ate at your mind. You could spin embezzlement or drunk-driving into a heartwarming story- alien attacks and Hydra were a whole new ballpark. 

It was almost refreshing. Spinning stories for shitty people and tailoring public statements for the goal of maximum human exploitation never quite sat right with you. Handling Stark’s life just felt like defending someone who deserved it. It felt more honorable working for him than a greedy tech firm.  (There are some questionable times when he doesn’t, but you don’t bother with those).

The righteousness helped the uncharted territory be more than manageable. Still, making Stark’s technology enterprise mesh well with his role as Iron Man felt like a hero’s feat on its own. The media would come up with any number of wild conspiracies about Iron Man, most of them disparaging to his image. 

Stark was legitimately aiming for good things in the world. The weariness in your bones kept you craving more simplicity and ease, nonetheless.

You sunk down into the leather couch of the conference room, watching as the board members filed out in quick order. The room was filled with the golden ray of sunset— soon to turn pitch black. 

Officially done with the day’s meetings, you forgo any workplace formalities and kick off your heels, despite your boss’s presence. 

A light chuckle at your exhaustion breaks the silence, Stark slumping into the empty space beside you. You raise an eyebrow when he wriggles at the lavish tie around his neck, tossing the garment to the floor next to your heels. 

“What, you can kick back but I can’t?” he jests, undoing the top two buttons of his black dress shirt. 

You give a ‘fair enough’ shrug, leaning back to start mentally processing the last ten hours.

You found yourself staring at his exposed neck as your mind trailed off, his head leaned back, eyes shut. His jaw is tight, forehead pinch in a now-familiar focus. Stark looked nearly as drained as you, still you knew better than to try and equate things. Honestly, you considered yourself semi-lucky to only have to make things look nice for the cameras and not be present for them. In the evening glow, though, he looks close to ethereal.

You shift your eyes at the thought.

You two sit in comfortable silence as the sun moves behind the New York city skyline. 

You’re doing mental math on how soon you can retire when he fills the void with a question.

“Regret taking the job?” he asks, unmoving. 

You add ‘potential mind reader’  to his list of skills. 

“Some parts are better than others.” It’s as honest of an answer you can give without sounding ungrateful for the opportunity (or thinking about the alluring glow on his skin).

He laughs again, turning to meet your eyes. This would mark the first time you’re under a heat lamp from his gaze, irises tired and alluring. 

“Seriously,” 

Clearly your answer isn’t convincing, because he turns to his side on the couch to fully face you. 

“You aren’t regretting this? Because lately you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” he says with a lazy grin.

You thought you were doing a good job of burying your issues beneath walls of smiles. Hearing otherwise hurts your resolve a bit, especially from Stark. He had enough on his plate without worrying about you.

“It’s just…a lot,” 

Despite how you felt, you couldn’t lie about it, not to his face. 

“But it’s not your fault, it’s not you.” you swiftly add upon seeing his somber grin fade away.

“Ha, isn’t it though?” A dramatic sigh escapes his mouth like a deflated balloon, running his hands through messy brown locks. “This..rollercoaster I’ve put myself on.” 

“Rollercoasters can be fun.” 

“You hate it.” Stark faces you once more, propping his arm up on the back of the couch. 

“Wouldn’t blame you if you quit.”

The suggestion pulls a laugh of your own. “I don’t think that’s an option.”

Stark makes a genuinely puzzled face, to which you spend the next minute or two explaining why you quit your first job, the weeks you spent rotting away after. You had hoped to never recount such a sad time outloud, but you couldn’t stand him feeling at fault for your lack of enthusiasm. 

Ease passes through you when it seems to comfort him a bit.

“Maybe I hire you for something else, maybe pay you to not deal with this shit.” he says, laughing.

You brush off his joke with another short laugh. “Wouldn’t that be something? Really, it’s fine. Just need a long hot shower.”

You start to stand, but are stopped when a hand graces your thigh. 

“No jokes, I know what it’s like to get more than you signed up for. If money’s all that’s keeping you here, trust me that’s not an issue.”

You give a flustered smile, trying not to focus on how warm his hand was. 

“It’s not all that’s keeping me here.”

TWO MONTHS LATER

“You know it’s just a dinner, right? Like just food, maybe music, high probability of dessert?” Stark taunts, noticing your trembling leg from behind his phone screen.

The car seems like it’s moving way too fast, even though you can very clearly see the speedometer under 25 miles per hour. 

“Yes, I know what dinner is.” 

You let out a deep sigh, trying to regain the ground under your feet. The part Stark conveniently forgets is that it is a very large gala he’s dragged you along to, and not just a normal dinner. You can do normal dinner, not a one hundred plus person dinner with reporters and red carpet. He’s also not considering the part where he didn’t tell you about it until two hours ago.

“Oh, that’s a relief, thought you might jump out the window.” he pockets his phone, turning to you. “I can just have Happy take you home, you know.”

“No, no, this is…excitement. I’m excited. Totally ready.” you’re really trying to convince yourself, but it only makes Tony snicker.

“These things are really boring, promise. That’s why you’re here, keep me from falling asleep.” 

Out the window, the street lights start to turn back into normal orbs instead of blurry splotches. The car pulls up the curb with enough ease for you to take in the venue. It's a marble hall, one you feel suddenly underdressed for. You make a mental note to tell Stark never to give you this little notice again. Perhaps you should save yourself the trouble and head home. 

Stark could behave himself, right? 

The black window tinting your view disappears when the door is pulled open. You hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore, now holding the door and gesturing to the entrance. You get your first good look at the suit he’s wearing, tailored and jet-black. The flattering seams are a decent enough distraction to join him on the sidewalk. 

Stark places both hands on either of your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. 

“You look amazing, I look amazing, please stop worrying. It’s starting to spread and I can’t eat on an upset stomach.” he forces himself into your gaze, searching your face for the supposed ‘excitement’.

A deep breath, then a second passes through you, staring at Stark's eyes until you can manage a curt nod and still legs.

“See, you’re gonna be just fine.” he exclaims, dropping the hands from your shoulders and already smiling for the line of photographers waiting by the door. 

You follow unsteadily, praying this is a speedy event. You could do this for an hour, maybe two. Stark takes notice of your delay, turning back to you just before reaching the first nerdy cameraman.

“Hey, what’s the issue with this? If your not comfortable with the cameras, you know we can just go around—”

“It’s not that,” you interrupt, gripping your clutch with sweaty palms. 

“Then what?” he asks sympathetically.

“There’s like a hundred people in there, Stark.” you admit with a long sigh.

“And I’m one of them, what’s the worst that can happen if you're with me?” He turns and props his arm out towards you. “Miss Cassian?” he says, dragging out your name.

You want to roll your eyes at his constant unserious nature, but instead you take another deep breath, loop your arm through his, letting your fingers wrap around the satiny fabric on his bicep before taking slow steps forward.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

Bright bulbs of light flickering in blinding succession. In every direction, microphones with human mouthpieces spew their hurried questions. Your boss answers in his typical Stark way, earning only more adoration and curiosity. You come to humor yourself with the questions they ask. Always seemingly random, from his favorite brand of whiskey to his opinion on migrant detainment in the Mediterranean. 

You stand to the right as he smiles and poses for them. You almost hate how good he looks in the cold wind, face most definitely beaming behind designer snow-white frames. Outside of that, you admire his patience, knowing this winter vacation (where he didn’t have to be Iron Man for once) was leaked and now semi-ruined.

It would’ve been a well needed break for you as well. Three months of non-stop press releases, conferences, and meetings were wearing you ragged. Late nights were occupied with drafting memos and wishing you chose a career with less work. While you hated the time work took away, you unfortunately began to admire the work you did. Working for Stark turned out to be more desirable than you thought. You imagined dealing with another frustrating, reckless CEO- not a charming, witty superhero. Regardless of the long hours and chaos, you loved helping put more good into the world. 

Finally, as snow starts to fall, he answers a final question on if he’ll change the color of his suit before turning to enter the cabin.

“Mr. Stark— Iron Man, won’t be taking any more questions, excuse me, thank you.” 

You tried to squeeze past incessant reporters and fans, barely making it through the hotel front door if it weren’t for security. The commotion outdoors gets muffled by the tall wooden doors. You sigh and lean against them, shutting your eyes for a moment.

“Feeling alright, Cassie?” 

Stark’s voice makes you open your eyes to see him standing in the foyer. This would be the fourth time you feel his eyes burning through your skin. You expected him not to be upstairs in bed, asleep already, not in front of you, eyeing you with his hands buried in his pockets. 

The place he chose spared little expense, clearly for starlets like Stark looking for a lush, woodsy escape. Wooden walls covered every inch, adorned with fancy art and a modern fireplace in the living room.  The color reminds you of the tower lobby, a deep mahogany. 

“Yeah, just remind me why I’m here and not at home in my heated apartment.” You keep your voice light as you hang your coat on the rack by the door. 

Stark gives a playful scoff, too used to your sarcasm to take offense. 

“A certain former assistant thinks I need a babysitter on my own vacation.” He turns on his heels, heading towards the kitchen with a renewed energy (surely only now remembering he’s supposed to be relaxing). 

“She’s not wrong.” you agree only because Stark re-emerges from the kitchen with a tall amber colored bottle and two glasses. 

You can’t help rolling your eyes at his stiffened jazz hands, tossing yourself onto the plush armchair by the fireplace. The cold seemed to wrap itself around you, not leaving despite your proximity to the fire. Stark chose to sit on the side table next to you, rather than the wide array of more comfortable seating options. You’d gotten used to him entering your personal space since your talk in the conference room. You took it as a sign of his narcissism more than anything.

“Not sure I’m meant to be a drunk babysitter, Mr. Stark, ” you quip as he starts pouring.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he winks, offering you one. “And come on with the ‘mister’—making me feel old over here.”

It’s bothersome how little he has to say to change your mood. Something about being with just him, away from press, deadlines or state secrets, pulled you in and kept you coming to work everyday. In this moment, however, his solitary presence made you anxious. You’d have to get through this sabbatical without the chaos of the world bringing you back to reality. The real world, littered with expectations.

Free of any reason to decline, you take the glass. You and Tony do a lazy toast, clicking the glasses together before taking a sip. The peaceful quiet envelopes the cabin, save for the crackle of the fireplace. 

“You okay?” you ask upon seeing the weariness in his face, contrasting the grin he held.

“Better than okay,” he finishes the rest of his drink, pouring another faster than you take a second sip. “Happy to be away from everything, ‘get in touch with the great outdoors!’ as they say.” 

You laugh at the dramatic mocking tone he uses, extending your arm out when he makes a gesture at your empty glass. 

“I hope your atleast being slightly genuine, Mr. Stark.” you say once the glass is full once more.

“When am I ever not, Miss Cassian.” he draws on your name with the same mocking pitch as before.

You fake a wince at the taste of your own medicine, which amuses the hell of the already tipsy Stark. 

“I see what you mean, felt fifteen years added on instantly with that,” you admit, chuckling at his demeanor. 

“Hence why I’m such a nice guy and call you Cassie like a normal person,” he states smugly, taking another sip from his glass.

“Oh really, Tony? ‘Cause you only gave me that nickname after I explicitly told you no one ever calls me that.” you laugh.

“Yes and that was a great loss to the universe that I fixed,” Tony turns his head to meet your gaze, eyes sparkling (you tell yourself it’s just the alcohol and nothing else).

The both of you stay there silent, eyes locked for what quickly becomes far too long and the awkwardness makes your attention back to your drink. You finish the contents, hoping that the liquid would cool your now burning skin. 

You internally remind yourself that this is just how he is- a playboy philanthropist turned charming hero, nothing else. 

“Sorry, I know this isn’t really much of a vacation for you. ‘Know you wanna be at home, away from Stark Industries,” he deflates a bit, pouring a third drink.

“No, it’s not like that,” you interject, speaking softly, “I really don’t mind being here, and it’s still a good break from meetings and all that other tedious shit.” 

He takes a sip, seemingly mulling over your words. “Give any more thought to my offer?”

You let out a small laugh, thrown off by his sudden mention of it. You were certain then that he wasn’t being anything near serious. 

“What, you paying me to not be here? I didn’t think that was you being serious.”

“It’s a win-win, no? You get a salary, I don’t have to drag you along for this rollercoaster, Pepper doesn’t worry, everyone’s happy.” 

Clearly you’re left silent for too long, because Tony stands before he speaks again. He seems conflicted, running his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Look, I don’t need to see you miserable, I guess.”

“What, who said I was miserable?”

“Anyone would be dealing with me.” 

TWO DAYS LATER

After a few days, an air of melancholy had hung over you. Two days of nothing turned into endless overthinking about your life. Every decision made seemed to rattle in your bones, looking for a place to be. You tried to tell yourself it was normal to feel lost, to feel as though everything you’ve ever done was pointless. This was the first time you’d had room to think, of course everything would be overwhelming.

That didn’t help, but whatever red wine Tony brought did. 

You found it on night two, cracking open the second bottle when Tony comes downstairs. You gave a sluggish hey that gave away your state immediately, but you were too absorbed in your thoughts to meet his eyes. 

“Didn’t take you for a wine connoisseur.” he mutters, sitting in the chair across from you. 

You don’t bother with a response. In fact, you wished that he’d go away. Seeing Tony lately just reminded you more of the life you were sure you wouldn’t have. You were certain you made all the wrong choices, took all the wrong paths.

“Cassian?” he leans forward, forcing his face into your point of view. “Kinda' freaking me out here.”

“You ever think about what your life would be like if you weren’t,” you trail off for a moment, slurring slightly. “I don’t know—you?”

He laughs and it feels infectious, closing your eyes to hopefully shut up the twist in your stomach.

“Me, specifically? Who knows? Maybe I’d be a pilot, or own a hotdog stand.” he goes silent at your lack of reaction to his joke, resting his chin against his hands.

“Why, thinking about faking your death and adopting a new identity?”

The red liquid in your glass coats your dry throat. You’d love to start over. Go back and see what the other paths held. Then, the deep pit of your stomach turns, remembering how different and worthwhile working for Stark made you feel.

“What if I did everything wrong?” you ask quietly.

If you did, a small part of the anxiety in your gut assures you that it was worth it to find your way to him.

“Define ‘wrong’.”

“Not what I imagined, I guess”

To help someone who wanted to do so much to help the world.

“Well, what do you want from life?”

You go silent again. “I don’t know.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

With nothing to prove you,

and if I should lose you

—It won't be in vain.

On the last day at the cabin, you feel a genuine sense of sadness at the thought of leaving. 

Fourteen days with no reminder of the outside world had you the most relaxed in years. Bliss was all you felt waking up each morning to no phone calls, no emergencies, and no meetings. You forgot what it was like to just exist, to not have your thoughts bogged down by deadlines. You had even forgotten the benefits of good company. The demanding nature of your job meant little social life, and you didn’t realize until nearly two days in that you had been craving it. What surprised you more was that you received that good company in the form of your boss. Tony seemed to go out of his way to fill any voids of silence with quips and self-deprecating jokes to make you laugh. Clearly to spare himself the awkwardness of your dissatisfaction. 

Nothing changed about personality, but removing the dark shadow of responsibility made him visibly less wound up. It must have done the same for you, because you spent most of these last two weeks laughing (or catching up on well-needed sleep). You tried to avoid him lately, not wanting to add fuel to the fire you could feel growing for him. Opting for weeks of solitude with him was possibly not the wisest route.

Retroactively, if you had all this sudden free time at home alone, you probably would’ve gone a little crazy. 

You must be wearing your solace on your face, because that night, during dinner, Stark asks if something is wrong.

“Is it a bad thing if I don't want to go back to New York?” you chuckle at your own absurdity, scraping the last bits of food into the trash.

“Is it worse if I agree?” he smiles, looking up from his own plate. 

“Not excited to go back to being an Avenger?” you ask honestly, sitting back down at the kitchen table, next to him.

“Ha, excited’s the wrong word.” he sits back in his chair, letting out a sigh. “You’re not jumping to get back out there either.”

You give an agreeing nod, resting your head in your hands when you start mentally going through all the tasks waiting for you tomorrow. 

“You don’t have to go back like I do. You can get away from all this.”

When you look up, Tony’s eyes are glued to the floor. 

“You know, you can just fire me if it’s that much of a bother to you.” you say sharply. 

Truthfully, it was starting to come off as a subtle hint to leave rather than concern. It muddied whatever imaginary connection you maybe thought you’d fostered over these last few weeks. All the little touches and extra concern bounced around in the back of your head like a live grenade. You didn’t know how much of it was aimed towards you, or just his charismatic nature. Maybe there was never any charisma, and he was the same as any other CEO.

“Cassie, that’s the last thing I want.” he says, like he’s offended, and you want to laugh at the audacity.

“Could’ve fooled me.” you retort, standing to exit the kitchen.

Tony intercepts you at the doorway, however, clearly scrambling for words to ease the newly-created tension. All it really does is annoy you more, seeing those brown eyes pleading silently. Either way, you can’t get past. 

“I—This is too much for anyone to handle. I can barely handle it and that’s because you do so much behind-the-scenes for me. A lot of people have reached their wits end with me and I don’t want that with you.”

It sounds painful for him to say, and despite his soft tone, it’s the most serious you’ve ever heard him be.

“I think you’re worried a bit too—”

“I’d rather not be the reason you spend weeks in bed, okay?” 

Frozen in the doorway, your anger still boils. It felt like the thing you were most ashamed about being thrown in your face. You want to go back to that conference room and never tell him a thing. It’d save you the confusion, save you from all the mixed signals. He couldn’t mean it. You remember the way he reluctantly submitted to Pepper and hired you. Tony didn’t care, he never wanted you here in the first place. You felt stupid for thinking anything else.

"Maybe you should worry about yourself, Stark. I've been doing just fine before you decided to make my job your business." 

Tony's jaw clenches, and a shaky hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. 

“My business is your job, can’t you see I’m trying to be supportive?” 

You almost start to regret your words, but you can’t stand the way he looks at you like some fragile thing. 

For the fifth time, you're hot under his gaze, but it does nothing besides flare your anger more.

“I don’t need your support, stop acting like you have any idea what’s best for me.” you snap, taking a step closer.

To your surprise, Tony closes the remaining distance, and you have to look up to maintain your glare. Tony's expression shifts from concern to frustration, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Clearly, you don’t even know what’s best for you. Forgive me for giving a damn.” he scoffs.

You roll your eyes, deciding to just put an end to this conversation. In his frustration, Tony left a wide enough gap for you to try and snake through. Your heated exit must’ve been obvious, because he steps back to keep you in front of him.

“Seriously?” your fists clench at your sides, heat spreading up your arms to your cheeks. 

“Why are you still here?” he softens a bit, but not entirely folding his arms over his chest.

It’s not enough though— your irritation is unchanging even under his tender gaze.  It was easier to stay angry and pretend like he wasn’t the only thing keeping you. To not admit that you didn’t want to abandon him.

“Why’d you bring me here?” you retort through gritted teeth, motioning at the logged walls around you.

“Damn it, I thought it’d help, Cassie!”

The severity of his words leaves you speechless. You never heard him really raise his voice, let alone come close to yelling.

“But, clearly, I shouldn’t have bothered.” Tony moves from the doorway, taking fast steps past you towards the main door before you can say anything.

In an effort to keep him from storming out, you reach out for his arm as he brushes by. Instantly, he pulls away as if you're made of open flames. You try to show the hurt on your face, but now that your anger has started to dissipate, you notice a similar transformation in Tony. To your benefit, though, it keeps his feet firmly planted. 

“I’m not some broken person you need to protect.” you admit, avoiding the potential anger still in his eyes. 

“Wow, really? Didn’t know.” 

Always with the jokes and sarcasm. You lift your head to Tony’s expectant gaze, causing you to sigh heavily.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he states dryly, leaning back against the kitchen table. “Why are you still here?”

“You keep assuming I hate my life.” 

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, rather dramatically in your opinion. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” he responds, mocking your words from earlier. “You avoid me like the plague lately, and I don’t know how you expect me to just see you unhappy and say nothing”

“That has nothing to do with work-”

“Then what is it?” 

There’s something else in his eyes, something like the sparkle you saw all those months ago. 

You look at him with pleading eyes of your own. A sense of entrapment overwhelms you, stuck with the choice between potentially ruining everything or, well, still potentially ruining everything. You wish he really could just read your mind and understand. Understand that you didn’t want to leave him, that you were avoiding him to protect your own, admittedly fragile, heart. 

"Can't you just accept that I don't want to leave?" you manage, your voice barely louder than a pin drop.

Your heart flutters as he steps closer, though it shouldn't surprise you; he's never been one to respect personal space, and an argument wouldn't change that.

"No, I need to hear you say it," his tone is low, almost taunting, and his unyielding gaze sends another wave of fluttering through you.

"I don't want to leave you."

In the next second, Tony's lips crash against yours, pinning your back to the wall with a heavy thud. You don’t notice, the world fading with the taste of vanilla on your tongue and the scratch of his beard on your chin. Your thoughts become a blur as Tony's teeth graze your lips, and his hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer, the arc reactor pressing into your skin. 

When the kiss ends, you're both left panting, yet he still clings to you, gripping your waist like he’s scared you’re going to run away. 

“I told you- the last thing I want is for you to leave.” he says sternly, voice still low. You can’t see his face, buried in the crook of your neck, but the heavy breath on your skin makes you lightheaded.

“Tony-”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s wrong to think I know what’s best for you. I just want you to be happy.” 

“I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“I care about you too much for that, Cassie.”

“I’m your assistant, Tony.”

Tony gently cups a hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his, his thumb caressing your cheek. He studies your face intently, searching for any signs that he should stop while he's ahead. You stopped counting how often he leaves you a mess with his eyes, and try your best not to stare at his swollen lips.

“Then tell me you don’t feel the same.” he whispers.

A beat of silence passes, the fire crackling in the next room uninterrupted. 

“I…can’t.” you answer hesitantly.

The confession hangs heavy in the cabin’s stagnant air. Your mind racing a thousand miles per hour, waiting for the dream to end. 

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Doing this wrong, ruining everything.” Your eyes squeeze shut from embarrassment.

Tony laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said, before kissing you again. It’s soft and slower than before, calloused hands still cupping your face.

“I think you’re the one who worries too much. When has anything bad happened to you when you’re with me?” Tony suggests, grinning, his eyes filled with warmth. 

You want to mention an office party a few months ago, where a drunk attendee threw up on your shoes, but you let him make his point. 

“Let me do the worrying for a bit, sound good?”

THREE WEEKS LATER

You felt like you traded seasons getting back to New York at the start of spring. You hadn’t gone home, instead staying in the tower at Tony’s request. You didn’t mind it at all, being surrounded with more comfort than you could ask for. 

Tony made it his personal mission to keep you away from all things work related, despite how many times you told him you enjoyed helping him. One small problem being that he left for a mission a few days ago, and you haven’t got the faintest clue where he was or when he was returning. The first day, you relished in a bit of solitude, reading books that sat on your shelf the last two years untouched or catching up with friends that you lost touch with. To your relief, most understood your reason for disconnecting, and the books were captivating. Now, however, it was day three, and you were starting to do the one thing he asked you not to— worry.

Just as the rain starts to splatter the tall windows of his penthouse, you’re considering reaching out to Fury or Hill to make sure he’s at least still breathing. The only thing that stops you is the ding! of the elevator, turning your nerves back down to zero.

When you meet him at the door, a wide smile breaks out on his face—surprised you’re still there.

“How was it?” you ask, as Tony drops his bag and moves towards you. You feel slightly awkward in this new territory with him, shifting your weight anxiously.

“We’re getting closer to the scepter. Hydra’s pulling out all the stops these days.” 

As Tony steps into the light, a deep freshly-stitched cut under his right eye comes into view. Before you can say anything about the cut, you notice the large bandage on his arm, and a matching bruise crawling up his shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” 

Tony slowly peels off his jacket, tossing it onto the couch behind you. “Oh, this? This is nothing, you should see the other guy.” he says with a flashy grin.

You’re busy scanning for more injuries, eyes raking for more bandages and stitches. Tony doesn’t let you continue for long though, taking your hands in his.

“What’d I tell you about worrying?” he teases, stroking your hair and planting a quick kiss on your lips.

You give an annoyed sigh, wishing he didn’t irritate and charm you in the same breath so much.

“I think it’s natural to worry when you’re bleeding.” you gruff, letting Tony pull you into a tight embrace. 

“Then I’m not doing my job, am I?” You don’t protest when his hands roam over your body, placing light kisses against your neck. “Let me take your mind off things.”

The light kisses on your neck turn into heavy bites, leaving marks along your collarbones. He creates his own path along your skin, sighing softly as his mouth finds every inch of skin your pajamas didn’t cover. You’re a panting mess as he trails down your body, twisting a hand into his messy locks. 

When he kneels before you, you feel unsteady on your feet. You wish you could say you two had gone this far already, but Tony considered himself a self-proclaimed gentleman and insisted you wait. It seems three days away from you was enough for the chivalry to fly out of the window. 

He stops for a moment, fingers hooked in your shorts, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the inside of your trembling thigh.

“Cassian?”

“Mhm?” You mumble, shutting your eyes. Nerves and anticipation mix terribly in your stomach, making you unable to process the desire on his face. You feel the fabric of your shorts slide down your legs with your panties. The cool air doesn’t help you any, rendering your skin sensitive and Tony’s hand feel like a furnace. 

“Relax, doll.”

You suck in a breath as his lips wrap around your clit, body stilling— the hand in his hair tightening. Weeks of Tony’s insistent waiting had you thinking your first time with him would be slower- you were ill-prepared for the way he runs through your folds with absolute filth. He moans into you, keeping a tight hold on your thighs to hold you close. 

He’s quick—grazing teeth against your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance— just to drag the tip of his tongue against your length and return your clit to start the cycle all over again. You feel the wetness coating the inside of your thighs, saturing his scratchy stubble on your skin. 

You bring your free hand to the back of the couch as he continues, sighing into your core and sending shockwaves up your spine. You try to maintain some type of balance, legs growing shaky again in pleasure rather than anxiety for a change. 

“Tony, god, that’s-” You’re cut off by your own moan when you feel Tony insert a finger into your soaking cunt, rocking slowly as his mouth finds its way back to your clit.

He pulls away a moment, letting his thumb keep the pressure against your sensitive bud. Your head tilts back, nails digging into the leather behind you. Out of your view, Tony wears a smug grin, pleased to see you taking his directive to heart. The middle of the living room might not have been his first choice, but it’s well worth it. Besides the fact you taste like heaven, it’s worth hearing every sound escape your lips.

Getting caught up in that, however, caused him to loosen the grip on your thighs. When his fingers curve inside you, your hips jerk against him. The calloused fingers tighten on your legs, to your slight dismay.

“Easy, doll, I got you.” he mumbles, returning his focus to eliciting more intoxicating moans from you.

Tony renders you a complete mess sooner than you’d like to admit, gasping above him as the warmth in your core grows overwhelming. If you told yourself a year ago that your boss would have you panting and begging, you wouldn’t believe it. Regardless of belief, his tongue pulls plea after plea from you. Your stomach feels painfully coiled- mind absorbed with the wet, filthy sound of Tony’s mouth on your cunt.

With another curve of his finger, you sent over the edge—crying out Tony’s name like a prayer and abandoning the hand tangled in his hair to hold yourself up. Tony lets you ride out your orgasm against his fingers, kissing the damp skin between your legs and muttering soft praises. 

It’s not until you sense him standing again in front of you that you open your eyes. You immediately want to take it back when you see the shit-eating grin covering his shiny face. The sight sends a new wave of desire through you, staring at his mouth with your lips parted, panting softly. Did he have to look so good constantly?

“As cute as you are when you’re worried, I think I prefer this look on you.”

[cerberus-new-owner]

WHOOOOOO week late birthday present to me from me

thank you me

your very welcome me

did i speed write like over half of this like 4 minutes ago (as im editing this and adding the intro on tumblr) yes, yes i did

But anywaysssss onto the cw

CW: like none (i hope), gn mc, mc and the characters relationships can be taken as platonic or romantic, fluffffff

Lucifer

the same pen every year but, its not just him stealing it from mc's room to rewarp it he has a box full of the exact same pens if one of them has a slight defect he will write a letter to the company that made the pens and send the damaged pen with it (mc shouldn't mention the fact that they've gotten the exact same pen from him four years in a row his pride will be hurt and he will just start engraving their name into the pens never know he may eventually switch it up and put a cute little nickname or something on the pen instead of just 'mc'), either that or he listens very closely and pays attention to what mc might need throught the year need a new desk at some point cause satan broke theirs placing a book down consider it bought mc dropped their bag in a puddle and need a new laptop it's theirs. sadly though he will only get them things that are practical hat they say they need so no jewlery or devices you already have that work fine unless mc can come up with a good excuse as to why the latest tech is needed for studying, there is the odd chance he may get them a bottle of demonus thinking 'they seem to like the taste of it even if it doesn't affect them' (doesn't matter what he gets mc the pens will always be given to them as a fun little bonus prize)

Mammon

anything and everything mc has even looked at for more than half a second is now in their room they mentioned a certain idk (whats something a half sane sheep that has to babysit like 9 demons 2 angels and a sorcerer on daily basis look at in a store oh well) mc mentions something they saw the other day that caught their eye his broke ass is looking for the cheapest deal he can find (or most expensive depends on if he has goldie or not) and buying it

Satan

like lucifer mans will think practical things and like himself he thinks books are the most practical things of all of course cats are fairly high on his list of practical things (they are a must have unless you're allergic to them if you're allergic to them im sorry cats cause you pain, then again they cause most people pain tiny little fluffy a holes that i love continuing) he will be bothering mc about their choice in books asking alot of questions along the lines of 'what genre are you most into' 'mc whos your favourite author' 'fiction or non-fiction' all in attempt to figure out what mc likes if mc isn't really into books and is into idk sports or gardening something like that he will search endlessly to find an interesting book to give mc on one of their hobbies and if they don't like the book he can always "borrow" them to learn more about mc's likes and hobbies

Asmodeus

feel like this is a no brainer but some kind of spa day or outfit (wait new headcannon alert what if he knows how to sew and occasionally makes clothes for himself for y'know when theres nothing new in fashion or theres an important event he cant find anything fabulous to wear but occasionally being the keyword he probably uses most of his talent fixing rips in satan shirts from satans outbursts) anyways... he will spend an entire day fawning over mc he will make sure they dont lift a finger god forbid they get a papercut from wrapping paper or worry lines from stressing about how tf they're supposed to sleep when mammons filled their room with gifts

Feel like because of this i should do how they wrap the gifts so this goes for Christmas / any other holidays too so bonusss (this is also who would remember to include a card)

lucifer

plain colour probably in mcs favourite colour no ribbon or anything fancy just plain [insert favourite colour] wrapping paper, he takes pride in wrapping his gifts neatly (he's wrapped the same pen for several years straight he has had practice) he gets a card for mc like the presents wrapping the outside is a plain colour with words relating to whatever celebration it is with either the dryest shit ever written on the inside or the most sappy shit depends on his relationship with mc if its the latter option though we will only give mc the card in private knowing exactly how his brothers would react

mammon

he uses the christmas wrapping paper from two years ago that everyone forgot they had until he called out 'anyone gonna use this wrapping paper i found in the closet' to satan replying 'you know thats christmas wrapping paper right' and mammon taking satan answer as a go ahead to use it, he'd do his best to wrap any gifts he got mc he looks up a tutorial and everything and 100% is proud of his work not matter how messy it looks, if anyone chooses to mention how messily it's wrapped he will say its part of the suspense he will use ribbons and bows to add extra effect

he forgets about aa card entirely

leviathan

ruri-chan wrapping paper wrapped as neatly as possible so the little images line up on every side as perfectly as possible he will spend hours trying to get the folds just right so the images line up nothing fancy like ribbons or bows he'd feel bad if he covered one of the characters so he doesn't bother with it

he panicked about what to write in the card so he gave up deciding that having a marathon with mc was way more important than writing his feelings onto a card

satan

cat wrapping paper or wrapping paper that looks like pages from books he makes any gifts he's wrapped look pretty (just like the pretty boy he is whosaidthat/j) he wraps the gift neatly and puts a little bow on it before writing a heartfelt card and using a little bit of tape to attach it to the wrapped box

asmodeus

picks out the prettiest wrapping paper he can find even if he's just wrapping a card that says "Spa Day!" he is wrapping it neatly with utmost care

he chooses a card based on mc's likes and hobbies of course making sure it's bedazzled and as pretty as possible

beelzebub

two layers of wrapping paper he found one that had images of food on it but halfway through wrapping mc's gift with it he took a bite out of the wrapping paper so he changed wrapping paper to a plain one so he would be somewhat less tempted to eat it

he gets mc a card and starts to write something in it before the writing stops mid word and theres a bunch of crumbs from him eating something forgetting to finish the card and giving it to mc anyways

belphegor

clouds it's very nicely wrapped because he probably went to one of those 'we wrap the presents for you' places and paid them the only part he did himself was the card and he put a tiny bit of effort into it until the writing gets smudged and messy and is that a bit of drool he fell asleep midway through writing oh well guess he better nap with mc to make up for falling asleep

omg what will i do nowwww guess what

boom

double bonus cause i said so

Barbatosss

tea party, tea party, tea party (i like tea) he will invite mc to the castle not only does this mean he gets to celebrate diavolo also gets to celebrate mc's birthday (like diavolo wasn't the one to suggest it, barbatos just anticipated dia asking to invite them over) barbatos will cook mc food from the human realm majority of it being things he heard them say they liked or missed from the human realm occasionally he might throw in a devidom ingredient or two to enhance somethings flavour or to add a fun little surprise (maybe he throws in something to change the colour of their fur for a few minutes who knows) as for the acctual gift part he probably gets mc something small to remind them of him or something practical he's not lucifer when it comes to gifts and may look into the future to see if theres anything mc will need in the near future like maybe their bag is gonna break in the next two weeks and they'll need a new one just so happen barbs gave them a new bag for their birhday the week before perfect

he wraps gifts by himself with a plain wrapping paper of mcs favourite colour and by far out of everyone wraps them the nicest he's lived for a millennia he's had practice wrapping gifts when it comes to writing a card for them he does his best to make it heartfelt and meaningful

soooooo tadaaa i've finished unless people want the others (by people i mean if i were in theory to gain motivation to write for the rest of the characters)

i hope people enjoyed this have a good day, night, brunch, apple, pen (pineapple apple pen)

follow the leader, the leader, the leader, follow the leader right to the masterlist

dangnabit his means im old now too

[that-starry-freak]

Yknow…. In Masm channel, Everyone seems to bully mask sun ALOT. At some point, suns gonna spiral into murderous rage if this keeps progressing

I’m making of angst headcanons for sun :)

Masm sun is super depressed like MAJORLY depressed after all the stress of being bullying and poking fun at. He’ll cry in silence in somewhere private and people where start to wonder where he’s been. Because of the fear of being made fun of, he can NEVER let anyone know where he is or was. It be so unbearable that everyone found out and worse things could happen.

-Whenever something is bothering sun he thinks the best way is to just ignore it. It will eventually go away. - aside from moon, Roxy and Freddy are the only people who supportive because they deal with emotions better than anyone else. Moon does cares about sun more than he lets on, he just doesn’t show it that much.

-he’s VERY distrustful of foxy, and monty because they are the most violent out of everyone sun and moon ever known. Due to the fact that Monty is very destructive and Foxy is a wild card. But he isn’t as bad as Monty, he just likes to pick on sun and pull pranks on him whenever he’s bored. Sun used to have a crush on him but that over time he’s become too deceptive for him. Monty FAR worse than compared to foxy. He’s been brute ever since he came to the building and the very first things he did was break and destroy everything. He’s just a major home wrecker who has no guilt or shame whatsoever for his behavior towards anyone or anything. The only thing he finds sun as an “easy target” just to tear apart and sun fidgets and incredibly nervous when he’s around and tries to avoid him at all needs.

-He’ll be very cautious when a “new friend” comes arriving. Sometimes he’ll lay back on being introduced or refusing to meet a new person because he’d had so many incidents with the last few couple of people that were greeted. Moon would start to notice suns off behavior because he always greets new comers and he just assumes he's just having a bad day or something. Sun wouldn’t take the risk of meeting new comers or making friends, he’s had enough of it already.

-despite of being sad all the time, he puts on a mask to show that he’s still his a happy self. It’s really only for his sake. He can’t let the others know he’s not being himself. If he doesn’t be happy, he’ll never have any place to fit in.

-He has multiple panic attacks and has ptsd from being bullied. Moon knows about this (Roxy told him) and would need to lay off the pranks and teasing for while along foxy and Monty. Moon can still tease him but only does it softly because sun is very sensitive.

-After being told by moon that he would be different than others instead of acting the way he is. He became very self conscious about himself. He started being insecure about himself and believed he needed to change. Moon noticed, he regrets it and tells him that he doesn’t need to change. He’s fine with the way he is but the damage is still very cut deep. Moon still tries to help him out any way he can.

(This is all I have for now, my hands hurt. What do you think about these?? 🫠) *im totally not crying for making these up*

meiejdjdn dude I love you so much /p THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVED READING THESE DUDE

Me- me when- me- AUGH

No cause- chat- chat like- Moon praising him more to reassure him- and- dude, dude the hurt comofet- and the possibility of Sun giving up and/or lashing out at everyone- and- and

Oh my god my brain is racing now thank you so much I enjoyed this immensely

[sunlightgalaxy]

Lauren

emily prentiss centric, mentions of emily/ian

warnings: cm typical violence (lauren arc), suicide, heavy angst

a/n: i posted this on ao3 like 3 years ago so im uploading it here

(my gif) / (read on ao3)

lauren reynolds.

that was her name. nothing else. her past didn’t matter anymore. she had to live second by second, minute by minute. that was the only way she would survive.

sitting in that dimly lit dive bar on the outskirts of boston, that was the only thought running through her mind. lauren reynolds, lauren reynolds, lauren reynolds.

and as the stranger she would grow to know over the next few months sat across from her, she knew who she was. who she would become.

he was charming, a flirt. anyone looking in from the outside would see them as a perfect match, but not to her. she would have to ultimately flirt back, get him to trust her, but there would be nothing serious. that wasn’t part of the plan.

as they conversed, she began to zone out a bit, focusing more on him. he was kind, his eyes hiding more than he would ever admit. truthfully, if he wasn’t a weapons dealer with law enforcement after him, and if she wasn’t more into women, she could imagine some sort of future with him. a house in europe, two kids, the so-called perfect family. but of course, this was real life. there would be no house in europe, no kids to look after.

or so she thought.

***

it was fine in the beginning, being in europe with ian. she’d travel with him, helping him with business. they’d sometimes take weekend trips to get away from it all, staying in the countryside on one of his many properties. she didn’t necessarily enjoy being intimate with him, but she had to. after all, it was really just an act. and it would soon be over, hopefully.

but the first time she had felt her heart flutter when he looked at her, she knew. she had to get out. she couldn’t just fall in love with a weapons dealer, it would end terribly. and he didn’t even know who she really was, that the lauren he had fallen in love with didn’t actually exist.

when they finally settled down in italy, she saw her chance to get out. she’d call clyde every few days, pleading with him to just arrest doyle. there was no good reason that her team couldn’t take him. but clyde had other plans. “a few more days,” he had promised, claiming they were getting closer. but he’d been saying this for weeks. she turned to tsia, eventually, but even that was useless. tsia would say the same as clyde, confirming the thought lurking in the back of her mind. she wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

to her, there was no end in sight. he wanted to marry her, have her raise declan. she knew deep down that this couldn’t go on for much longer. she needed an out. she didn’t want to be lauren reynolds anymore.

every morning, her first thought was “this could be the last day.” and it never was. it was getting to be too much, she couldn’t keep going on anymore. the stress of it all had finally caught up to her.

and as she laid in the guest bed, hidden away from ian’s prying eyes, she let her tears fall. reaching into the drawer of the nightstand, she grabbed the bottle of pills and took one. and another. and another. she took enough that she knew would kill her. and that was okay. she didn’t want to be lauren anymore, and now she wouldn’t have to be. she wouldn’t even have to be emily, a whole other life that she was never quite sure if she wanted to go back to. this was better for her. for everyone.

clyde would get her message eventually, or perhaps he would figure out something was wrong. but she didn’t care, she wanted them to find her when it was too late. the letter on the table would explain everything.

“it’s for the best,” her mind reassured her. she recited it softly under her breath until she couldn’t anymore.

her eyes drifted shut, heart slowly stopping.

lauren reynolds was dead.

***

they caught ian doyle the next morning.

[verdemoun]

sad macsummers hours where one of them gets sick and has to stay in hospital but will like recover becuz im watching my neighbour totoro where the mum is in hospital and idk it made me sad

I've been toying with the idea of the gang having some lingering complications from how they died so this is perfect.

Lenny suffers a spontaneous pneumothorax that is further complicated by post-surgical infection. Not only is Lenny being in hospital an ordeal on Sean in itself, but due to chest tubes, oxygen and other supportive medication Lenny can't talk to him.

This is a problem because 1. Sean is a nervous yapper and is slowly going insane not being able to have Lenny respond 2. Sean just doesn't understand the doctors. The staff are obviously geniuses and Lenny is getting the best care but they cannot explain what they are doing in a way Sean understands and Lenny can't talk to translate for him.

Sean feels as helpless as he would be in a different country to Lenny. He doesn't know what's happening, he doesn't know how to help, all he knows is that Lenny was meant to be going home after 6 days, and they were both smiling and laughing, and then Lenny was sick and struggling to breathe again and throwing up and feverish and sicker than he was when he first went in.

He does not leave Lenny's bedside, and the first thing Lenny says when he has the tubes removed for a second time and can talk again is 'I love you but you need a shower'.

Sean also holds Lenny's hand so tightly he almost breaks it.

Lenny tries his hardest to pretend everything is okay for Sean's sake because Sean is ruined seeing Lenny get sick, being afraid he's going to lose him because for Sean it's the first time he's gone through the grief of seeing Lenny so close to death, but eventually Lenny has to break too.

Sean, after weeks of feeling helpless, at least knows how to comfort his husband while Lenny goes through the terror of it sinking in that life is as fragile as it was in canon era.

--

Plus some canon era for a different flavor

Sean isn't okay when he is brought back to Horseshoe Overlook. Lenny helps him off Boaz and immediately knows it's not going to be bouncing back to normal Sean, despite the grin Sean has. He's running on the relief of being rescued and the adrenaline of being held upside down helpless during a shootout.

His arms are too thin. His skin is unnaturally warm to the touch. It takes every puppy-eyed boyfriend stare just to get Sean to sit down long enough to process the number of injuries. To notice the missing tooth and immediately force himself to stop staring at it. The healing black eye.

Second the adrenaline wears off, the pain sets in. The fever climbs. As much as horseback would be faster Lenny insists on the mercy of taking the wagon, with Sean laying in the back instead of trying to sit upright.

None of them are potentially fatal injuries. Sean is going to be okay, Lenny knows that. Sean knows that. But it's more than the gang can handle right now. Lenny is relieved to know Sean will be in the safety of a doctor's office.

Except Sean loathes doctors. And it doesn't help that the doctor in Valentine just seems like a shifty, nervous, feller. The number one thing Sean needs is rest and sleep, and Lenny knows Sean struggles enough sleeping without being in the creepy attic clinic of a doctor's office.

When he's asleep, Lenny lets it sink in how terrible Sean looks. If it wasn't for how thin he is, and how obvious the rise and fall of his chest is in his sleep, Sean would look like a corpse. He doesn't want waking up alone to be the final stress Sean can't cope with.

So begins weeks of battling Sean on Sean's behalf. Sean wants to be fine, he wants to be back with the gang and he does not want to be laying in bed all day being told to stay still so he can recover when the process seems heinously slow regardless.

That doesn't mean Sean has much fight. He puts so much energy into pretending to be fine, and arguing he's ready to go home to the gang and back to robbing, he sleeps 18 hours a day. Or sometimes he wakes up and admits his entire body hurts, and he's too nauseous to eat, and just looks out the dirty little window miserable.

Lenny stays as often as he can. Constantly, after catching Sean having snuck out and staggered to the bar before passing out on a stool. They play cards on goods days, Lenny reads to him on bad. The gang move on to Clemen's Point, but Lenny stays behind. Sean isn't ready.

Sean regains his strength on cute little dates walking around Valentine, getting excited over candy bars at the grocery store and beef stew at the saloon that they both think is better than Pearson's cooking. Sean's burned feet result in a bone infection, with the pain in his ankle lasting months. He uses a cane on bad days, and then realizes he quite likes using it as a weapon even on his good days.

By the time Sean is well enough to head back to camp, he actually dreads the lifestyle. He's gotten used to a physical bed, and the sheer concept of privacy. He likes having Lenny to himself too much - fake coughs and jokes he has an infection and needs to stay a few more nights. They both miss the gang too much to leave, but the thought crosses their minds.

Then - they get to Clemen's Point and there's no one there. No note. Just a quickly dug grave with no name. They realize they're on their own. They're alone, except for each other, no way to find the gang on their own. They're free. They're nobodies enough to slip through Tall Trees. They go back out West. They live happily ever after.