#im so happy to finally have him in masters you all have no idea

[suffering-asthmatic-tifosi]

HIIII can i please ask for a hozier fluff gic, i love him so much and i never saw someone that write for him 😭😭😭

(im sorry if this is not correct, english is not my first language)

I'm so happy someone asked for Hozier!! I love andy sm too he's like comfort in a 6ft body! And I have a bunch of incredible writers ik that write for Andy!! (also its ok English is not my first language too)

@crimsonred-hi is like my FAVEEE Their master list: <3

but feel free to request whatever Hozi ideas you have <3

Warnings: None, just teeth rotting fluff

pairing: husband!Hozier x wife!reader

WC: 343

summary: Waking up with Andy is one of the most pleasurable moments of your day, especially today.

a/n: no joke this is one of my favorite fics so far lol. Enjoy <3

Bog Man

“Mornin Stórin,” Andrew said to you in a husky morning voice as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, planting kisses on your jaw.

You giggled at the tickle of his beard on your shoulder. “Good morning Bog man”

Andy lifted his head up from your neck, using his forearm as support to prop his upper body up.

“Why do people call me that?”, He asked, incredibly confused. 

You sat up on the bed beside him and placed your hand on his chest, softly caressing his lean figure, “Baby, look at you” You giggled and placed soft kisses on his hands. “Your songs are all about the forest and nature and love and light,” You planted more kisses on him, now on his cheekbones. “You embody romanticism and nature so perfectly” You planted a final kiss on his nose, with a small smile on your face, admiring your majestic husband.

“Love, you're so poetic today”, he said to you, pulling a hair out of your face. “But how does that make me a bog man?”

you paused for a moment before considering your answer.

“THE HAIR!” You say loudly as you run out of the bed you shared.

“Hey! Get back here!” Andrew ran after you into the kitchen where he found you running into a closet. He caught you and wrapped his long arms around you.

“Where do you think you're going Darlin’” He asked you tickling your sides

You giggled and begged him to stop, and after a couple more seconds he did.

A small moment of comfortable silence was shared between you both. His arms wrapped around you, protecting you from whatever may come your way. You looked into his ashy green eyes, finding specks of gold in them, revealing themselves by way of the morning light coming from the kitchen window. 

His summer auburn hair is frizzy and long, falling in his face as he looks into yours. The affection, palpable.

“What do you want for breakfast bog man?” You asked your husband with a playful grin.

“Anything you want my forest fae”

[robbietech]

Adaman's modern outfit!

Credit me if you use them, please.

[mokeonn]

Currently I have so many bg3 saves bc I refuse to delete my old ones that will likely never be finished (first ever gameplays, not optimized, everytime I open one I get overwhelmed and stop), but also because I keep making new games with the specific purpose of romancing a certain companion, seeing special dialog, doing a specific style of run, or getting an achievement on steam.

[mellosdrawings]

Hii!! So sorry for going on an absolute spree liking all of your posts ;; your art style is super expressive & I love the way you use crosshatching! As well as all your headcanons (you are so real abt cane user azul, i didnt realize how many cards he's sitting in!!)

I was curious, do you have any headcanons with Ruggie & Jamil? Especially with your N2 squad theories and their canon interactions durin GloMas, I'd love to see what you think of them~

First, never apologize for any liking/reblog/other spree, you have no idea how happy it makes me to have someone like what I do so much that they dig into my previous stuff!

And thank you so much for the compliments I'm ansbsjsbsjsn about them 💕

For Ruggie and Jamil, I have a whole bunch of different headcanons depending on the situations.

First their GloMas interaction gave me life. I found it so perfect, just the two of them finally letting their inner gremlins take over without worrying about their image. It was PERFECT !

I also love that their Signature Spells have the same "manipulation" base, but Ruggie is about the body while Jamil is about the mind. (I usually love adding Jade to the mix with his ability to force the truth out of others. I call the three of them the "Manipulation Gang". I'd love to see the three of them actually gang up some day.)

Jamil and Ruggie also have the same servants-to-spoiled-rich-kids background. I feel like they'd have the most terrible gossip while washing clothes or something. I just can't really imagine them not be friends of sorts. Just pestering about the latest wild nonsense their master has been up to, wondering if they should exchange their burdens (pre chap 6, Jamil would never agree after that) and just generally let the worst of them show to the other coz they don't mind.

In the context of the N2 Squad, Ruggie would definitely be a needed push for Jamil. The kind of "Please just date him, Leona’s mood is only getting worse and I'm tired and if I hear 'im moan about you once more I'm gonna murder you both" or something like that. Ruggie knows the inner workings of Leona, knows the inner workings of Jamil too from their laundry-gossip, and while I can imagine him strive in chaos he would immediately go complain to either Leona or Jamil if their turning around each other made his job harder. After the N2 Squad starts dating though, I can def imagine Ruggie try to profit off being friends with Jamil to get favors from Leona (and maybe Vil too coz why not?)

(Also Ruggie is def Jamil's first fan when it comes to cooking and always tries to have him give him spares from a previous party or whatever.)

[lyrarizi]

THIS POST CONTAINS DISCUSSION ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL LEAKS

i sadly saw the leaks of hazbin s2 and now a whole plotpoint is ruined for me, i can make sure if you are still saved from seeing them, this is my advice just take a couple days of social media ESPECIALLY of tiktok and wait until the leaks are removed from platforms because they are HEAVY leaks they arent just some simple conversations

how i found out is a gacha reaction video on youtube without ANY spoiler warnings, just dont watch upcoming reaction vids if you consume them people WILL take profit and make reactions, under the cut is the exact name of the video but im not going to type that here since its kinda on the nose and will give you a huge idea of what the leak is about

ALSO: i said under the cut that comments are a safe space to talk and discuss about the spoiler so do NOT look at them since they will showcase spoiler, so to make it clear hopefully

DO NOT LOOK IN THE COMMENTS IF YOU WANT TO STAY SPOILER FREE PLEASE <3

under the cut is discussion about one of the leaks so if you want to stay spoiler free i beg you do not read further

so about that leak..

i do not like it one bit, i am praying to god its fake because it is such a weird choice

because as we see in the leak rosie owns alastor's soul, that is heavily implied, and i myself do not like this choice

we can clearly see alastor does not like rosie and rosie only sees him as a pet and calls him so, this just ruins their whole dynamic for me

alastor and rosie seemed genuine friends and loved to spend time with one nother they were really cute, i thought alastor finally had somone he could lean on

so this

is all fake, all of alastor's moments that we thought were rare moments of his real joy, are fake.

rosie being happy that her best friend has returned from his 7 years disappearance to who knows where?

fake, she's just happy her pet is home to clean up her dirty work..

this also puts into perspective that alastor really does not have any real friends, niffty still always is on his leash so there is a power imbalance, husker probably hates him, vox hates him too and when they were friends i think alastor only was there for the entertainment or he saw him not as a friend anymore as soon as vox confessed

but i really do not like this.

i saw those two as a genuine friendship, married for tax benefits, queerplatonic, best friends for life, even lovers,

not as master/pet

they were cute together, alastor finally had someone he could trust and rosie had someone she could hangout with, gossiping together, rosie enables alastor and alastor enables rosie, maybe they were a bit transactional but you could clearly see they cared about eachother

in the leak we see a total different dynamic, alastor hates rosie and plays along with her, rosie takes delight in alastor's suffering and degrades him like calling him "pet" puts him in cages, uses him as a doll

this is the video i looked at:

im not shaming them this is just the internet but this clearly shows the leak without any sort of warning on the title, cover, or even in the description, i knew nothing about alastor's deal leaks so i had no idea this one would show leaks

as far as i know this the only gacha reaction up to this point where they react to leaks

but now, while i have been writing this post i have been thinking about it.

this is a fun twist i can say, nobody was seeing this coming this is an actual surprise

i can accept and deal with the fact that rosie is alastor's soulowner and maybe still find enjoyment in it, i mean i always love to see alastor suffer and him having 0 real friends is pretty funny (AND SAD)

but if you want to talk about the leaks here in the comments is a safe space to discuss, i can understand you would like to talk with someone about this revelation so come say hi in the comments if you want :D

UPDATE:

So have been thinking about the leak for a bit once i let it sink in

We saw the leak and it looks real (good animation that is hazbin hotel style and the voices are not ai or someone must have had a really good bot for that)

But just because we saw the leak doesn't mean we have context for it

I still am a full believer in the eve/roo theory even after this leak and have been pondering on this animatic

What if roo posessed or shapeshifted into rosie??

We know Alastor doesn't have a good relation with his soulowner and he seems to genuinely like rosie's company, he even bleats and his pupils dilate thats not something you can controle

So it makes no sense for it to be actually rosie

My theory is that roo wanted to be extra petty towards Alastor and decided to sing that song to him as rosie, because whats better than singing a song about owning their soul as their only real loyal best friend??

I know i'm just stretching at this point but i refuse to believe this without context and hazbin is already hella fucking complicated so this could fit

Anyways what do you think? You think this leak is real or fake, do you also not believe it or are you in denial? Lemme know i'm curious and love to trade theories! <3

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART II

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 9.1k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). explicit sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! here's the second part, finally. i had lots of fun writing this one, happy reading <3

part one

After staying at Cillian's for awhile, you decided to go to the place you had rented. The truth is, you didn't want to leave, but you had already extended your stay longer than planned, and you wanted to give him space with his kids. And you also wanted to give him time to process the event that took place four nights ago in his bathroom. Or you wanted to give yourself time to process it.

At this point, you weren't sure who needed the space more.

It was all very confusing because, yes, you've had feelings for him for God knows how long, but you've squashed them down like a stubborn bug for the sake of your friendship and, most importantly, his family. Those two things were always at the forefront of your mind, guiding every action and decision. But now that his family is no longer a factor and the two of you almost crossed a line, it's hard to ignore those feelings.

Those feelings that crawl up your spine every time he smiles at you or brushes against your hand accidentally. Those feelings also make you feel like the worst person in the world, as if you're betraying his ex-wife and their children by even entertaining the idea of something more with him.

It's all so delicate.

The cottage is nestled between rolling green hills and the glimmering blue of a distant sea. The place is like a warm embrace. The floors are laid with wide, honey-colored wooden planks, their surface worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Exposed wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, their rich, dark wood adding a sense of history and sturdiness to the space. The walls are painted in a soft, creamy white. The master bedroom is a haven of tranquility, with white linen curtains billowing softly in the breeze from the open window. The bed, with its wrought iron frame, is piled high with quilts and pillows in soft shades of blue and green. It's the best sleep you've had in months.

It rained earlier today. You've stayed inside all day, not wanting to venture out into the wet weather. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the window was a soothing backdrop to your day, but it stopped around mid-afternoon, leaving behind a fresh, clean scent in the air.

Now you’re sitting at the rustic wooden table beneath the pergola, one leg tucked under you, grapevines overhead casting dappled shadows on the weathered wood. The garden around you is alive with color—wildflowers in every shade imaginable sway gently in the soft breeze, and the lavender and rosemary release their fragrant scent into the air.

Bon Iver’s voice drifts softly from your phone, which lies next to your notepad on the table. The music is haunting, its melancholy tones matching the weight in your chest. You’ve been here for hours, or maybe it’s only been minutes—time seems to blur together lately.

The notepad lies open beside you, filled with half-written lyrics, fragments of thoughts and emotions that you can’t quite bring yourself to finish. The pages are messy, scribbled lines crossed out, some words barely legible, as if your hand couldn’t keep up with the rush of thoughts.

You’ve been chasing this dream for so long—touring, recording, performing in front of thousands of people—but somewhere along the way, you’ve lost sight of why you started. The music that once brought you so much joy now feels like a burden; the words that once flowed effortlessly are now tangled up in doubt and frustration. The applause, the fame, the success—it’s all there, but it feels hollow. It feels lonely.

The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water, but you’re too tired to move. You prop one leg up the chair and rest your chin on your hand. You focus on the water, trying to find some solace in its steady flow. But all you can feel is a deep, gnawing sense of unfulfillment, a yearning for something you can’t even name.

How pathetic.

You’re tired, so tired, and the dream that once seemed so bright now feels like a chore.

The door creaks open behind you, and you catch the faint sound of footsteps on the stone path. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. Cillian moves with a certain quietness, a soft presence that you’ve come to recognize. The footsteps grow closer until they stop just to your left.

"You should lock your door," he says, his voice low, carrying a hint of amusement but also concern.

You let out a small, tired laugh, not bothering to look up. "Didn’t think anyone would come by," you reply, your gaze still fixed on the stream; its gentle flow is the only thing that seems to make sense right now.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there, his shadow blending with yours. Then he pulls out the chair next to you, the wood scraping softly against the stone, and sits down. You can feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t press, just lets the silence settle around you both.

You hear him shift beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you see him glance down at the notepad on the table. His gaze lingers on the unfinished words, but he doesn’t say anything about them. Instead, he just leans back in his chair, looking out at the water with you.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice softer, almost reflective. "I know that look. The one that says you’re miles away, stuck in your own head."

You don't respond, knowing that he understands you more than most people. The music on your phone shifts to another Bon Iver song, this time Beach Baby.

He continues. "You know, sometimes I think about all of it—this life, the fame, the roles I play. It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I spend so much time being someone else, living in someone else’s skin, that it’s easy to forget who I am when the cameras stop rolling."

His words hang in the air, and you turn your head slightly to look at him. His expression is thoughtful, his blue eyes distant, like he’s lost in his own memories. "It’s like… sometimes, I feel more like myself when I’m acting, when I’m being someone else. That's what made me fall in love with it in the first place. I just loved being somebody else. It’s easier, somehow. But then there are those moments, when the lights go out, and I’m just… me. And that’s when the loneliness creeps in."

You nod, understanding more than you’d like to admit. "It’s the same with music, I guess," you say quietly. "There’s this rush, this high, when you’re on stage, when everyone’s looking at you and you’re giving them everything you’ve got. But then it’s over, and you’re left with the silence, the emptiness. It’s like… who am I when it stops?"

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you can see the shared understanding in his eyes. It’s a strange comfort knowing that someone else gets it, that you’re not alone in this feeling of being lost.

You take a deep breath, the weight of the words you’ve been holding back suddenly becomes too heavy to keep inside. "I guess that's why I'm here. To escape. To escape the pressure, the expectations and…just be," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is a performance. Everything. When we're out in the world, we're expected to act a certain way, to fit into a mold. We have to edit ourselves. As honest as we try to be, there's always a part of us that remains hidden. And it's exhausting."

Cillian nods, his gaze never leaving yours. "And when you’re alone, you can let go of that and let your mind just be still," he says, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s thought about this a lot. "It’s quite peaceful, isn’t it? But it’s also… terrifying. Being alone with your thoughts, with no distractions, no one to perform for. It’s like staring into a void sometimes."

You swallow hard, the truth of his words hitting you square in the chest. "Yeah, it is. But it’s also when I feel the most myself. When it’s just me, and I don’t have to be anything for anyone. Just… here, in the quiet, letting my mind rest."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The garden around you is alive with the soft sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the gentle murmur of the stream, the distant call of a bird. Bon Iver’s music still plays from your phone—Holocene.

You break the silence. "Sometimes I think about it. I think about letting go of it." It's a terrifying thought but also strangely liberating. You don't know what it means completely yet, but just saying it out loud brings relief. Cillian just looks at you, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

It was so easy, existing with him.

In this moment, you feel a little less lost, a little more understood. And as the sun dips lower in the sky, a mix of orange and pink hues, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

The next day dawns softer, brighter. You wake up with a sense of calm that had been missing for a while. There’s a lingering warmth from yesterday, the conversation with Cillian still playing in the back of your mind. As you sat at the same wooden table this morning, you found yourself scribbling lyrics that flowed easier, more naturally. They’re different—slower, more deliberate. There’s a depth to them that feels right, as if you’re finally tapping into something real, something honest.

Last night had ended quietly. After that heavy talk in the garden, Cillian stayed for dinner. The two of you kept the conversation light, avoiding the unspoken tension. It was there, hovering between you, but neither of you brought it up. Instead, you talked about mundane things and watched Punch-Drunk Love in the quaint living room. He pointed out every little detail he liked in it, and you listened, soaking in the emotion in his voice.

When the movie ended, he promised to see you the next day, and you reassured him it was fine, that you understood his absence. You meant it, even though a part of you always ached for more of his presence.

Today, with that newfound energy, you decided to venture out. An early morning walk turned into a drive to the nearby town. You pulled on a cap and sunglasses—a funny and somewhat ineffective disguise, but it was something. The town was charming, with narrow cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and a relaxed pace. Most people didn’t give you a second glance, and for that you were grateful. It was nice to blend in, to be just another person out enjoying the day.

You wandered through the market, admired the local crafts, and even picked up a few things—a handmade bracelet, a small painting of the Irish countryside. Lunch was at a cozy little café, tucked away from the main street. You ordered a hearty bowl of seafood chowder, rich and warming, with fresh bread on the side. As you sat there savoring the meal, your phone buzzed. It was Cillian, asking if you wanted to grab drinks tonight. You hesitated, your mind running through a dozen reasons to say no, but in the end, you agreed. You wanted to see him again, even if you couldn’t quite admit how much.

Back at the cottage, you took your time getting ready. You set the atmosphere, lighting a few candles, playing some soft music in the background. It felt good to take care of yourself and put a little effort into how you looked. You chose a pair of jeans that fit just right, a black top, and your favorite leather jacket. Casual but confident. A swipe of red lipstick added a touch of boldness.

You didn’t know where the night would take you, but you felt ready.

Cillian arrived right on time, his car rolling up the gravel drive just as you slipped on your jacket. When you stepped outside, he was already out of the car, leaning casually against the door. He smiled when he saw you—a warm, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes flicking over your outfit with an appreciative glance.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, a hint of nerves bubbling up but quickly pushed aside.

The drive to the pub was easy, the conversation flowing effortlessly. You talked about your day, the town, the little things you’d picked up. He told you about his new movie coming out later this year, based on a novella set in the mid-1980s in a small Irish village. There was a comfort in the exchange, in the way your words mingled with the sound of the tires on the road.

When he pulled up outside the pub, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. It was a small, unassuming place, the kind of spot that felt like a well-kept secret. The sign above the door was weathered, the windows glowing warmly from the inside. It looked cozy, inviting.

“Do I need to bring out my disguise?” you asked, amused, as you glanced at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you’re safe here. No one’s going to bother us. I’ve been coming here for years. They don't give a shit about me.”

He was right. The pub was perfect—dimly lit, with a mix of old and new music playing in the background. The crowd was relaxed, more interested in their conversations than in who might be sitting at the next table. You found two empty stools at the bar and settled in.

Close to the drinks. Perfect.

You ordered beers—the kind that tasted awful but somehow fit the atmosphere. Cillian took a sip of his beer, and the reaction was immediate. He groaned, his head falling back as if in defeat, eyes closed as he savored—or perhaps endured—the taste. The dim light from the pub’s old-fashioned fixtures cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the shadow of stubble that had begun to form. His lips, still wet from the beer, parted in a wry smile that spoke volumes of his disdain for the drink. His brow furrowed slightly as he kept his eyes closed, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh as if the beer was the worst thing he’d ever tasted.

It was a dramatic performance, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how absurdly handsome he looked even in that moment. There was something endearing about it—the way he could make something so ordinary seem so intense. His dark hair, slightly tousled, fell over his forehead, and you found yourself staring longer than you meant to.

“Bloody hell, that’s awful,” he muttered, finally opening his eyes and giving you a side glance. His blue eyes sparkled with trouble, the corners crinkling as he caught the expression on your face. “You should’ve seen yourself, though. Looked like you were trying to swallow glass.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, please. You looked like you were about to keel over from one sip,” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your voice.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and the amusement in his eyes deepened. “Can’t argue with that,” he admitted, taking another sip with a grimace. “Piss beer, this is. I’d almost prefer water.”

“Almost,” you teased, lifting your glass to take another drink. The foam clung to the rim as you sipped, and you made a point to keep your expression neutral, though you could feel the bitterness spreading across your tongue.

Cillian leaned in a bit closer, his Irish accent growing thicker with each drink. “But then, what would we have to complain about, eh? I think the shite beer is half the charm of this place.” His voice was smoother, more relaxed, and you noticed the way his words seemed to roll off his tongue, rich with the lilting cadence of his heritage. It was endearing, undeniably so, and you found it increasingly hard to focus on anything else.

“Is that what they call charm here? I must’ve missed the memo,” you quipped, smirking as you met his gaze. The clever back-and-forth felt natural, easy, and it warmed you more than the alcohol ever could.

“You’re lucky I’m here to explain it to ya,” he said, leaning in just a bit more, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Otherwise, you might’ve gone your whole life without knowing the joys of terrible Irish beer.”

“Oh, I’m so grateful,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words, but your smile gave you away. “I’ll add it to the list of things you’ve taught me.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter, and you noticed how close he had gotten. His arm was now resting casually on the back of your seat, and every so often, your knees would brush, those accidental touches sending a small, electric thrill through you. The pub’s atmosphere, once filled with distant conversations and the clinking of glasses, now seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The world outside the booth blurred away, and all that was left was Cillian’s presence, the sound of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of him that mixed with the pub’s woody, earthy aroma.

The more you drank, the closer you both seemed to get, each sip loosening the barriers that had been in place. His laughter grew louder, more infectious, and his accent, more pronounced with every word, sent a shiver down your spine. It was more than just the alcohol—there was an ease between you that you hadn’t felt before, a sense of connection that went beyond the usual playful exchanges.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in even closer. “I think I’m starting to like this beer.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk, feeling a little more brave. “Is that so? Or is it just the company?”

He chuckled, his breath warm against your ear as he replied, “Maybe a bit of both.”

A familiar flutter stirred in your chest—the undeniable pull that you’d been trying to ignore for days. But tonight, in this pub, with its terrible beer and terrible lighting, you decided you didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not here, not with him.

You moved on to something stronger, whiskey that burned going down but left a warmth spreading through your chest that felt as intoxicating as the alcohol itself. With each sip, the edges of your nerves smoothed out, and you felt looser, braver, and a little sexier. You sat on the bar stool with your body angled slightly toward Cillian. The leather of your jacket creaked as you shifted, the red of your lipstick standing out against the dim light. You felt his gaze on you, not just looking, but really seeing you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck down to where your top dipped, lingering just a moment longer than usual.

His look was hungry, but it wasn’t just that—it was curious, intrigued. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning closer, his knee brushing against yours as he picked up his glass, watching you over the rim as he took a sip. The whiskey seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes, making them sharp and piercing, but there was softness there too, an openness that had grown.

“You know,” you began, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

His eyebrow arched in curiosity, and he leaned in a little closer, his interest piqued. “Oh yeah? That was… what, 7 years ago? At the Globes, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, taking another sip of your drink, the liquid courage giving you the confidence to broach the subject. “Yeah, that’s right. And you… well, let’s just say you weren’t exactly my biggest fan.”

Cillian looked taken aback, a surprised smile curving his lips. “What? I don’t remember it like that.”

“Oh, come on, Cill,” you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “You kind of hated me."

He laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t hate you. I just… I guess I had some preconceived notions about you."

“Preconceived notions?” you asked, a teasing glint in your eyes.

He hesitated, looking almost sheepish as he ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I thought you were this… I don’t know, shallow, self-absorbed person. Just someone who was there for the attention, you know?”

You let out a mock gasp, placing a hand over your heart in faux offense. “I’m wounded! I can’t believe you thought that about me, really.”

He chuckled, but there was a hint of regret in his voice as he added, “But I was wrong. I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, leaning in a little closer, your voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “When exactly did you figure that out?”

“The first time we really talked,” he said, his voice equally soft, the words carrying a weight they hadn’t before. “After I saw you in the hall, crying. I don't know. You were so real, and I realized you weren’t what I thought. Not even close.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Wow, so I had to have a full-on breakdown just to convince you I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed diva? Good to know, Cill. I’ll make sure to cry more often around you.”

He laughed, bringing his fingertips to his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Not quite what I meant, but I guess it did the trick, didn’t it?”

You remembered that night vividly, how everything had seemed to spiral downward so quickly. “I was having the worst night,” you said laughing, a slight bitterness creeping into your tone as the memories resurfaced. “I’d just been dumped by the world’s biggest asshole that morning, and then there you were, tearing down everything I said with some esoteric joke.”

Cillian winced slightly, the regret more pronounced now. “Yeah… I wasn’t exactly charming, was I?”

“You were a bit of a jerk,” you admitted, but there was no malice in your words. “But you made up for it with that burger offer.”

A grin spread across his face as he remembered. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

“Well, I figured a burger with you was better than sulking alone,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “And it was. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was exactly what I needed.”

His expression softened. “I’m glad I asked, then.”

The bartender interrupted your conversation to ask if you wanted another round, and without a second thought, you both nodded in agreement. It seemed neither of you were ready to call it a night. The place was warmer now. As you waited for your drinks, your eyes drifted to the ceiling. Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" played softly in the background, the gentle melody weaving through the low murmur of conversation.

You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that a few couples had begun to dance, swaying gently to the music. There was something so natural, so easy about it, that you couldn’t resist the urge that bubbled up inside you. Turning back to Cillian, who was taking a sip of his drink, you couldn’t help but smile. “Come on,” you said, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Dance with me.”

Cillian raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. He muttered something in reply but you couldn’t quite make it out. It only made you more determined.

“I didn’t catch that,” you teased, leaning in closer as if trying to decipher his words. “But I know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh, do you, piano woman?” he shot back, his tone light but with a challenging edge.

“Yes,” you said, grinning. “You’re going to say that you don’t dance.”

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You’re right about that. I don’t.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone. “I know, but you’ll indulge me anyway.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options. Then, with a small, resigned sigh, he downed the rest of his drink in one go and set the glass back on the bar with a decisive thud. Before you could react, he grabbed your hand and stood up, pulling you along with him.

It caught you by surprise, the suddenness of it, especially considering he had just insisted he wasn’t the dancing type. As he led you toward the makeshift dance floor, he leaned in and said with a grin, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You laughed, a loud, genuine sound that felt as freeing as the night itself. “Oh, am I now?”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, because otherwise, there’s no way I’d be making a fool of myself like this.”

You shot back with a playful, “Well, let’s see just how much of a fool you really are, then.”

As you reached the space where others were already swaying to the music, Cillian took your hand and pulled you in close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the solidity of his frame as he moved with you, the two of you finding a rhythm that was surprisingly in sync. It wasn’t anything fancy—just simple, slow movements to match the easy tempo of the song—but it felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room.

Cillian leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Did you know I'm a failed musician?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“Failed, huh? So, what happened? Couldn’t hack it with the rest of us rockstars?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. "Something like that. I was in a band, actually."

You leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “You? In a band? Color me shocked.”

It was kind of hot, imagining him on stage with a guitar in hand.

"We even had a record deal and everything."

"What happened?"

Cillian’s expression softened as he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of nostalgia. “My brother was still in school at the time, and my parents basically told me I could fuck up my life if I wanted, but I couldn’t take him down with me. So, it fell through.”

As you continued to sway together, the story of his past unraveled between you, each word carrying a hint of regret mixed with fond memories. “Those were great times, though,” he continued, his eyes distant as if he were seeing it all again. “I’d be out late, drinking, playing music in small pubs, thinking we were going to make it big. It was a bit of a rush, you know?”

You could imagine him there, young and reckless, with that same intensity in his eyes that he carried now, but wilder, untamed by the years. “So music was your first love, then?” you asked, your voice soft, genuinely curious.

He nodded, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I suppose it was. I had been playing instruments since I was little. There’s something about it that just… gets into your blood. But then, acting came along."

“When exactly did you know that's what you wanted?” you asked, wanting to peel back more layers of him.

His smile turned almost bashful, as if recalling a secret he hadn’t shared in a while. “There was this guy who ran the Cork theater company—had a huge man crush on him. He was brilliant, and I ended up doing a workshop with him. After that, I just pestered him for an audition until he gave in.”

You chuckled softly at the thought of a young Cillian, determined and probably a bit of a nuisance, chasing after something he wanted so badly. “And that was it?”

“Well, there was a drama module in school when I was about 16, 17—during the transition year. That’s when I first got the bug. Ended up starring in A Clockwork Orange. It was sexy, dangerous, unlike anything I’d ever seen. I loved playing someone else, losing myself in the character.”

He paused, then flashed a self-deprecating grin. “There’s not much to look at, but if you give me a minute…"

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his modesty. “You’re selling yourself short,” you teased, leaning in closer, your bodies moving in sync to the music. "Cill, you literally have an Oscar."

“Ah, the Oscar... just a glorified doorstop, really,” he quipped, his tone light but with that familiar undercurrent of humility.

"It's the work that matters, blah blah blah," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully. His eyes were crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Exactly," he agreed, before pulling you into a twirl.

"Do you miss it? you ask, hands circling his neck as you sway. "Music, I mean."

Cillian blew out a slow breath, his eyes growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “Sometimes,” he admitted. "But life has a way of taking you where you need to be, not where you want to be.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and heavy, as you mulled them over. Is this where I need to be? The question echoed in your mind, reverberating through the deeper corners of your thoughts. You weren’t sure you had an answer. You were a successful artist, living the dream so many could only imagine, but there was always that lingering sense of something missing, a quiet ache that you couldn’t quite place.

Where do I need to be?

The thought spiraled, unfurling like an endless thread, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. You started questioning everything—your choices, your path, the very essence of who you were. Those words seemed to tap into something deep inside, a reservoir of doubts and desires that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, almost like you were talking to yourself more than to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, swaying slowly. See, this is the thing about Cillian, he had a way of making you feel seen and understood, even when you didn't fully understand yourself, even without saying a single word.

The warmth of Cillian's arm around you, the subtle way he moved—it all felt so natural, like this was where you were supposed to be. But then, the memory of four nights ago crept in—the way his breath had hitched as you said you weren't going to stop him from going further, the tension that crackled between you both like a live wire.

The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Heat flushed through your body, a dizzying sensation that made it hard to focus on anything other than the way he was looking at you. A knot formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing pulse.

The memory was like a current running through you, making you hyper-aware of every point of contact with him. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Your mind was swirling with thoughts, the alcohol making you bolder, more aware of the things left unsaid.

"I can't stop thinking about what almost happened the other day."

“What almost happened?”

He let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle, his lips dangerously nuzzled in your hair. “Don’t play coy with me, love. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body reacted to his nearness. “I’ve tried to stop thinking about it,” he continued, his voice a hushed murmur that only you could hear, “but I can’t.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. You wanted to let go of the restraint you’d been holding onto all night, but you were still aware of where you were, of the people around you—even if they weren’t paying you any attention. The thought of crossing that line, right here in the middle of the pub, was both thrilling and terrifying.

But Cillian, sensing your hesitation, didn’t push.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression serious but laced with that familiar smirk. “Wanna head out of here?” he asked, his voice low but with a note of urgency.

You didn’t need to think twice. “Yes,” you breathed, the word escaping your lips before you could stop it.

The night air hit you like a shock to the system as you stepped outside, the cool breeze carrying with it the faint scent of rain. The streets were quieter now, the lively noise of the pub fading into the background. You were drunk, the world tilting slightly with each step, and neither of you could drive.

Cillian pulled out his phone, his fingers deftly dialing the number for a cab. You watched him as he made the call, the way his jaw tensed slightly as he spoke, his voice low and calm despite the alcohol humming through his veins. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he carried himself, even in this moment of mundane practicality.

“What about your car?” you asked, your words slightly slurred but still coherent.

He glanced over at you, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll pick it up in the morning,” he replied smoothly, his accent curling around the words in that familiar, endearing way. “Don’t worry, love.”

The cab arrived not long after, the headlights cutting through the night as it pulled up to the curb. Cillian opened the door for you, and the two of you slid into the backseat, sitting close together but not touching. Not yet. The space between you crackled with unspoken tension, the thrill of anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

You found yourself playing with your ring-clad fingers, the cool metal a small distraction as the silence stretched out between you. The driver turned up the music a bit, and the opening chords of Inhaler’s "Dublin in Ecstasy" filled the car. The song was somehow fitting, its pulsing beat and haunting lyrics adding to the electric atmosphere.

It started to rain, the droplets tapping against the windows and turning them foggy, adding a sense of intimacy to the small, enclosed space. The outside world became a blur of lights and shadows, the city fading away as the cab sped through the streets. You could feel Cillian’s gaze on you, the weight of it almost tangible as you sat there, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

You turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The music became more intoxicating, the beat syncing with the rapid thudding of your heart. He noticed you bopping your head slightly to the rhythm, and a small, surprised smile crossed his face.

“You know this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you replied with playful confidence, “I know every song ever made, actually.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Is that so? A human jukebox, then?”

“Something like that,” you teased, the conversation light but charged with something more, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

The cab’s interior felt smaller, more suffocating as you neared your destination. When you finally arrived at his place, Cillian paid the driver, and the two of you got out, raising your jackets over your heads to shield from the rain, which had grown heavier. You both ran to the entrance, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night as you giggled like teenagers, the spontaneity of it all making you feel light, carefree.

He fumbled with his keys for a moment, the sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air before he managed to unlock the door. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chill of the rain outside. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the faint glow of the night sky through the large windows. The shadows played across the walls, casting everything in a soft, almost ethereal light.

You tossed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, your clothes clinging to your skin from the rain. You could feel the fabric sticking to your body, the dampness making you shiver slightly, but the heat in the room—and the heat between the two of you—kept you from feeling cold. Cillian wandered off somewhere for a moment, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, the anticipation almost unbearable.

When he returned, his eyes locked onto yours, a predatory glint in his gaze that made your breath hitch. He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing as he asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of something dangerous, “What should we do now?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with suggestion, and you felt a rush of heat flood through you, your pulse quickening. You moved toward him, your steps slow and deliberate, closing the gap until you were inches away. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly despite the bravado in your words.

His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek before trailing down to remove a stray piece of hair stuck to your face. His touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent sparks of electricity through your skin, making you feel like you were on fire. His hand continued its path down your arm, and you followed it with your eyes, watching as his fingers traced the outline of your veins, the simple action making your breath catch in your throat.

He moved his hand up to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your top before slowly sliding it down, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your skin burned under his touch, a mix of desire and something else—something that felt like shame, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It felt too good, too right.

His hand slid up to your neck, his grip firm but not painful as he held you there, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. You clung to his black t-shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you tried to steady yourself, but the room seemed to spin around you, the intensity of the moment making you dizzy.

Cillian’s eyes bore into yours, his expression dark and filled with an unspoken promise as he whispered, his voice rough and filled with desire, “Tell me what you want.”

You wanted him—every part of him. You wanted to forget everything else, to lose yourself in this moment, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for days. And as his grip tightened slightly on your neck, pulling you closer until your lips were just a breath away from his, you knew there was no turning back.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

So he did. He kissed you, long and slow. His lips were soft yet urgent, and you melted into his touch. Your hands found their way to his damp hair, tangling in the strands as you deepened the kiss, savoring every moment. His breath mingled with yours, warm and laced with the faint taste of whiskey, his hands still cradling your face as if you were something fragile, something to be cherished.

But then the kiss deepened, the restraint unraveling as the need between you grew too powerful to contain. His hands slid from your face down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss became more urgent, more demanding, as if he was trying to consume you, to lose himself in you. You responded in kind, your own hands gripping his t-shirt, pulling him closer, wanting more—needing more. The heat between you intensified, the tenderness giving way to something hotter, something that felt like it had been a long time coming.

The rain continued to patter softly against the windows, a distant sound that seemed to fade into the background as your focus narrowed to just him—to the way his hands gripped your waist, to the way his breath hitched when you bit down softly on his lower lip.

You started moving backward, the need to feel him against you overwhelming any thought of where this might be going. Your feet stumbled slightly as you both moved toward the couch, the dim light from the windows casting your entwined shadows across the floor. He guided you, his hands firm and sure, but there was a tenderness in the way he led you, as if he was still holding back, still trying to keep a grasp on the control that was slipping away.

You reached the edge of the couch, and he paused for a moment, his gaze intense as he looked at you, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath. “You're in control here,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, thick with the weight of the question, with the possibility of what was about to happen. "We stop whenever you want to, okay?"

Ever so polite, you thought. You answered him by pulling him down with you, your lips finding his again with a renewed urgency. The cushions gave way beneath you, the soft fabric enveloping you both as you sank into it. His body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you.

As the kiss deepened, became more frantic, more desperate, you could feel the tension in him—the barely restrained control he was struggling to maintain. His hands roamed over your body, landing on your jeans and slowly playing with the button, a silent request for permission.

"Don't stop now," you teased, your voice barely audible against his lips. He responded by deepening the kiss even further, his hands moving with purpose as he unbuttoned your jeans. He stopped for a moment, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his hands taking off your shoes before sliding your jeans down your legs. He positioned himself between your legs once again, kissing you rough this time.

The couch was vast and soft underneath you as one of his hands traveled up your thigh—still not as high as you wanted it. You let out a needy moan, encouraging him. When his fingers brushed against the edge of your already wet panties, you couldn't help but arch your back in anticipation. He pushed them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. When his fingertips made contact with the wetness of your folds, he groaned too, in a way you found very satisfying.

"I've thought about this…a lot," he murmured, slipping a finger inside you, making you gasp with pleasure. "What you might sound like. What you might taste like. What you might feel like."

He pulled away from you swiftly, and you moaned at the loss. He kneeled down in front of you, his gaze intense as he leaned in to kiss your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine. He pulled down your panties. You went stiff, suddenly aware of how exposed you were. He opened your thighs a little more, as if he wanted to see more. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered. "Let me taste you."

"Yes," you breathed out.

You couldn't stop looking at him as he pleasured you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each flick of his tongue and gentle bite made you arch your back in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. He groaned in pleasure, and you opened your thighs wider. His tongue was thorough and deliberate, exploring every inch of you with precision. Your hands grabbed the couch cushions, trying to ground yourself as you felt yourself spiraling into pure bliss. And just when you started to roll your hips, he slid two fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you gasp and moan uncontrollably.

It was too much. Pleasure consumed you as you arched your back violently against his touch and you moaned his name over and over again, letting go. You were drunk on him— his touch, his mouth, his scent—lost in the euphoria of the moment.

"Fuckin' incredible."

Well, yes, fucking incredible indeed. But not as incredible as it would feel to have him inside you completely, filling every inch of you. To reduce him to the whimpering mess he had just turned you into.

Before Cillian could do anything, you sat up and pushed him flat to the floor. You were both drunk and too eager to make it to the bedroom, so you might as well just do it right there on the living room rug.

He grunted in surprise, but his hands quickly found their way to your hips as you straddled him, pulling you closer. You removed your top, your breasts spilling out as you leaned down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as you pull away from his mouth, pulling his black t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

He stopped breathing as you worked your way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and you eagerly slid them down his legs, revealing his growing arousal.

When your fingers wrapped around it—fuck—his skin felt hot and smooth against your touch, his breath hitching. You positioned yourself to take him in your mouth, savoring the taste of his desire as you licked a slow, teasing path along his cock. Cillian let out a ragged moan, his hands tangling in your hair.

You lifted your eyes. He had propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with his lips parted, pupils blown.

You had him.

You took him deeper, relishing the way he arched into your mouth, his groans spurring you on. With each flick of your tongue, you could feel him losing control, surrendering to the pleasure you were giving him. "Fuck, stop," he gasped, his voice strained with need. "I need to be inside you."

“Condom?” you asked, the question hanging in the thick air between you.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice rough, almost pleading.

You hesitated for just a second. “I don’t mind… if you don’t.”

For a moment, he froze, his blue eyes darkening as they searched yours, as if to make sure he’d heard you right. Then, with a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, he nodded.

You released him with a smirk and sat up, swung over him. You positioned yourself so that his hands were on your hips, guiding you down onto him. The anticipation was electric, every nerve in your body alive with the need to be closer to him, to feel him, completely and without anything between you.

As you sank onto him, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, a low moan escaping from both of you. The feeling of being filled by him sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire between you that burned hotter with each thrust. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you matched his rhythm, lost in the intensity of the moment.

This was going to end you.

His movements became more urgent, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name. The room was filled with the sound of your mingled gasps and moans, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo off the walls. He felt so good, so right. His thrusts became more deep and harsh—you wanted even more. As if he read your mind, he sat up against the couch and kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Bloody hell," he murmured against your lips, both his hands grabbed your face as he looked deeply into your eyes, and you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and circling your hips in rhythm with his. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the heat between you both rising as your bodies moved in perfect synchronization. He was close—you were close. His hands roamed your back, your ass, and your breasts, and you threw your head back when his mouth found its way to your nipples.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, "Yes, oh—" you screamed as white-hot pleasure shot through your body, causing you both to reach the peak of ecstasy together. You felt his cock swell, filling you completely as he released with a guttural groan.

The intensity of the moment left you both breathless, bodies entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. He had leaned back to the floor, and you had gone with him. He was rubbing your back, and your face was pressed to his chest.

"You okay, love?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You hummed, feeling content and safe in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

You stayed like that for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours. His fingers kept tracing those gentle patterns on your back, grounding you, reminding you that you were still here, still connected. The afterglow wrapped around you both, a warmth that made you feel safe, cherished. You could still feel him inside you.

“How bad would it be if we just stayed here?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the moment. There was a part of you that didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the spell.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you could feel the rumble against your cheek. “Well, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, “I’m not sure how comfortable the floor will be in about twenty minutes, but I’d say it’s worth a try if you are.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Fair point,” you conceded, shifting slightly to look up at him. His eyes were warm, a little teasing, but there was an underlying tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands sliding down your sides as he carefully helped you up. “Let’s get cleaned up. I promise the bed is much more inviting.”

He rose to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. You accepted, your legs feeling a little shaky as you stood, still a bit lightheaded from everything that had just happened. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the care in his touch.

Together, you made your way upstairs, his arm draped around your shoulders as he guided you toward his bedroom. The space was warm, cozy, with a lived-in feel that made it undeniably his. The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of it before coming to find you.

He led you to the bathroom, where the soft glow of a single light illuminated the space. He turned on the shower, testing the water temperature before gesturing for you to step inside. You did, letting the hot water cascade over you, washing away the remnants of the night, though the memory of it clung to your skin. He joined you a moment later, his hands gentle as he helped you rinse off, his touch tender, almost reverent. You stood under the water together, letting the steam envelope you both.

When you were both clean, he handed you a towel, wrapping another around his waist. He left the bathroom for a moment and returned with a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, offering them to you.

“Here,” he said with a soft smile. “This will do.”

You took the clothes, slipping them on. The fabric was soft, worn in, and it smelled like him—woodsy, with a hint of something earthy and warm. You found yourself breathing it in, the scent comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

When you were both dressed, he led you to the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside you. He held the blanket up for you, and you slid in next to him, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the warmth of his body. He immediately pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist as you nestled into his side, your head resting on his chest once more.

The room was dark, but the faint light from outside filtered in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the walls. You could hear the rain still pattering against the window, a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy between you. His hand found yours under the covers, fingers intertwining as he held you close, his breath warm against your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat under your palm, steady and reassuring, and it lulled you into a state of deep relaxation.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. You don't know for what exactly you were thanking him, but it felt like the right thing to say in that moment.

He responded with a gentle squeeze of your hand, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

You didn’t need to say anything more. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. You both knew that tonight had changed something between you, something profound and unnameable, but for now, it was enough to just be here, together.

a/n: there you have it, i hope you guys liked it!! please like, reblog and comment. i wanna hear your thoughts! and as always, thank you for the support <3

[xoxoxkisses]

“I’m not yours.”

Warnings: small angst, slight sanemi x reader, not proofread (sorry im too lazy)

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You have liked Tokito for a few months now. He had saved you in a previous battle and ever since you’ve fallen for him more and more. You were finally able to apply to be someone Tsuguko, so obviously you applied to become Tokito’s.

You had sent him a letter applying to become his Tsuguko and now you were waiting for his response. As you were washing up from a training session, Tokito’s crow brought a letter to you. As you reached for it you told her thank you and opened the letter.

“I apologize for taking a while to write back, I have been thinking about your application for a while now. I accept you as my Tsuguko. Meet me at my estate at dawn and bring all of your belongings as you will stay with me from now on. -Tokito”

You jumped with joy. You didn’t hesitate to go pack for the next day.

————————————————————————

As you walked to the Mist Hashira’s estate, your heart was beating fast. You were nervous you would disappoint him. As you entered the courtyard of the estate you could see Tokito waiting at the stairs for you. As you walked further he saw you and offered to help you with your bags.

Once you got your stuff settled, Tokito told you it was time for your first training session. As the two of you walked to the training area, he spoke up. “I’ve heard many good things about you which is why it took me a while to answer your letter. You are my first Tsuguko after all.” You were shocked when he said the last sentence. How could you be his first Tsuguko?

The two of you began to train. He had requested you to strike at the tree in front of you. He complimented you on your skills, but also told you a lot of things you need to work on. You were very appreciative for his help and advice. You both trained hard until the end of the day.

The two of you had went inside now. Your stomach growled, you were hungry. You haven’t ate since lunch and it was now dusk. “Master Tokito, would you like me to make dinner?” He looked at you and tilted his head, “I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad idea. Go ahead, i don’t care what you cook.” You smiled at him and started cooking. You had made some ramen as you were too tired to make anything big.

As you sat down to eat, Tokito ate with you. You two didn’t really talk much, just a few thanks and compliments on the food. Once you both were done, you cleaned the table and Tokito washed the dishes. When you were done, you told him goodnight and started towards your room. “Y/N.” You turned around confused. “Yes Master Tokito?” You looked at him with a confused look on your face. “I just wanted to say you did good today.” You smiled at him and said thank you. You turned and carried on to your room. ————————————————————————

It has been a few weeks since you have been training under Tokito, and it seems as your relationship with each other has grown. The two of you talked more and went everywhere together.

Tokito was sent on a mission a few days ago. You trained hard and took care of things around the estate. As you were making lunch, you heard the door opened and there Tokito stood. “Welcome back!” You said smiling. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.” You were nervous with the tone of his voice. He sounded serious. “Okay Master Tokito.” You stopped what you were doing and went to him. The two of you sat down and stared at each other.

“When I was gone on my mission I met a girl. And I need your help.” His face lit up with red. The blood drained from your face, you felt your chest get tight and you felt yourself shaking. “..Oh wow..! I’m happy for you, what can I do to help..?” You were trying to hold yourself up, you couldn’t break down in front of him. “Well I’d like advice to make a move on her.” He was looking at the ground now smiling. He’s never smiled like that at you.

“Well maybe you can ask her on a date and take her to one of your favorite spots.” Tears were threatening to come now. “That’s a good idea. Thanks Y/N, you’re the best Tsuguko I could ask for.” He smiled at you, and your heart fluttered. You excused yourself and went to your room.

Tokito noticed you haven’t been your outgoing self lately. You always brushed it off as you were tired. He started talking about her more and more. He talked about her at every chance he could, at dinner, lunch, training. You couldn’t take it anymore. As he was talking about her at dinner, you interrupted him and excused yourself. You washed your dishes and went to your room.

In your room you wrote a letter to your best friend, Mitsuri. The two of you became friends after seeing each other a lot once you became Tokito’s Tsuguko. After you sent the letter you started crying. You suppose Tokito heard you as his knocked on the door asking if you were okay. With muffled sniffles, you told him you were and he walked away.

He was confused on why you left. He noticed you had been acting different but he didn’t know why. Once he finished his food and washed his dishes, he went to his room. But on his way he heard sniffles coming from your room. When you said you were fine he knew you weren’t but didn’t want to bother you.

Mitsuri answered you back the next day. She asked for you to come hang out with her. You accepted and told Tokito about it and he let you go. As the two of you walked around, you saw Tokito and the girl he liked. The way they looked at each other was making you upset. You wanted him to look at you that way, not her. Mitsuri noticed and gasped, she looked at you to turn you away, but you were already crying. Tokito looked over and saw the two of you, and you crying. You ran off before he could come over.

He saw you run and he was concerned. He excused himself from the girl and went to Mitsuri. “What is wrong with Y/N?” He looked worried. “Well Tokito..Y/N likes you, and they have for a while.” His eyes went wide. “What?” He couldn’t believe it at all.

He knew where you were, without thinking he and the girl he was with went there. Once they arrived, he saw you sitting in the field of daisies crying. “Y/N?” You heard him call. You turned around and saw her. “Master Tokito, what is she doing here.” There was a hint of anger in your voice. Why would he bring her to your spot? “It would have been rude if I didn’t Y/N.” He tried to justify himself. “No, it’s rude you did bring her. This place is my secret, you know that.” You turned away from him. Both of them walked up to you he sat down next to you as the girl sat on the other side. “I’m sorry Y/N.” He said looking at you. You didn’t say anything. That’s when she spoke up. “Did you not hear him? He said he’s sorry. I’m sorry he likes me and not you, im just better.” Something inside you snapped. You slapped her and walked off, Tokito trying to stop you.

You arrived at his estate and packed your belongings. You were going back to your estate. You didn’t regret anything you did. In your eyes she deserved it. ————————————————————————

It had been a few days since you spoke to Tokito. You had been sent on a mission. As you arrived, you were instantly surrounded by demons. You tried to fight back but there was too many and just one of you. You held them off as long as you could but they were all attacking you. You couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when the Wind Hashira showed up. He couldn’t even belittle you as he could tell you tried your best. Once he finished the rest of them, he picked you up and ran you back to the Butterfly Mansion.

Shinobu had told him your injuries were severe and you may not make it. Sanemi stayed with you, hoping you’d wake up. It had been a month and there was still no signs of you waking up. Until one day you hand twitched. Sanemi saw and ran to get Shinobu. You woke up not too long after and she did a check up on you.

You stayed there for a few weeks. Sanemi was always there for you. When you were able to leave, you went to your estate. Sanemi went with you to make sure you made it safely. At your estate, you saw Tokito. When he saw you his face lit up and he ran to you. “Y/N, you’re alive! I thought I lost you!” He hugged you. You tried pushing him away but you were too weak. Sanemi noticed this and pushed him away for you. “You aren’t needed here Tokito. Go home.” Tokito looked at you guys. “But shes mine.” He said with a glare. “I’m not yours. I never was.” You looked at him with tears in your eyes. He looked at you and started crying. After that he left.

Sanemi stayed with you for a few days. Although you were better and got sent home, you were coming down with a fever. He tried helping you but you continued to get worse. Shinobu would come to you to try to treat you, but nothing worked.

A few days later Sanemi was at your side holding your hand. You looked at him. “Sanemi, thank you for being there for me when I needed it. But I think it’s time.” You had tears in your eyes. “Y/N, you’re going to be fine, I’ll call Shinobu.” He tried to get up to call her. “No Sanemi. She wont make it in time. Please just stay here and hold me.” And so he did. He picked you up and held you. That’s when you took your last breath.

Sanemi always blamed Tokito for your death. If it wasn’t for him you would’ve been ready to fight those demons. Sanemi would always see you in his dreams, he missed you dearly. And so did you. ————————————————————————

a/n: I know I said I only write for Muichiro, but I couldn’t help but add a small Sanemi x reader 😖

[rvzcvx]

HEYYY i dont really fanfictions but idk,I really liked one of your fanfictions ,is it possible to have a FanFiction with bill x m!reader Or reader non gender ?🎀 With 2005 bill cause he's my favorite Era,I want something cute and fluff cause he was 16..I just had the idea that bill and reader don't really understand it because like bill speak.german and he doesn't understand english and reader doesn't understand german😭!Afterwards for the rest I leave you free ideas! because I trust you

Love you🫶

THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE

pairing: 2005 bill x male reader

warnings: nothing, just fluff

a/n: im sorry for not posting for so long but i had to focus on school. i promise that i will try to post more often!! and btw i love you too, i hope youre gonna like what i wrote

I still couldn't believe it, I was sitting in the living room of Bill Kaulitz, my boyfriend, from my favorite band. It felt surreal, like a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

The room was filled with posters, CDs, and personal items that gave it a cozy vibe. Bill was in the kitchen, making us some tea. I could hear him humming softly, his voice always managing to soothe my nerves.

We met a few months ago after one of his concerts. I had been a fan for years, and the opportunity to see him perform live was a dream come true. I never imagined that I would actually meet him, let alone start a relationship with him. It was hard at first, with him speaking mainly German and me only knowing English, but we found ways to communicate.

Bill walked back into the room, holding two steaming cups of tea. He smiled warmly and handed me one. "Hier, für dich." he said, his accent making the words sound even more special.

"Danke." I replied, one of the few German words I had mastered. I smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spread through me.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, sipping our tea. Bill looked at me, his eyes full of affection and something else I couldn't quite place.

"You... like the tea?" he asked, his English slow but deliberate. "Yes" I nodded, "It's perfect, just like everything you do."

Bill blushed, a soft pink tint coloring his cheeks. "Danke, mein liebling." he said, reaching out to take my hand. His touch was gentle and reassuring, a silent promise that everything was going to be okay.

We had learned to bridge the gap between our languages with gestures, smiles, and a lot of patience. Bill would teach me simple German phrases, and I would help him with his English. It was a process, but one that brought us even closer.

Bill set his cup down and moved closer to me on the couch. He pulled me into a warm embrace, and I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, letting the unspoken words fill the space between us. His arms around me were my safe haven, a place where I felt completely at home.

After a while, Bill pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. "You... make me very happy." he said, his English improving day by day.

"You make me happy too, Bill." I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "More than you'll ever know."

Bill's smile widened, and he leaned in for a kiss. Our lips met in a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of all the things we couldn't yet say in words. When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, but content.

He wrapped his arms around me again, pulling me close. "Ich liebe dich." he whispered into my ear. I had learned that phrase early on. "I love you too, Bill" I replied.

As the evening turned into night, we continued to talk, laugh, and simply enjoy each other's company. It didn't matter that we spoke different languages; what mattered was the love we shared and the bond that grew stronger every day.

By the time we decided to call it a night, I felt more connected to Bill than ever. We climbed into bed, cuddling close under the warm blankets. Bill held me tight, his presence a comforting weight next to me.

"Gute nacht , mein Liebling." he murmured sleepily. "Goodnight, Billy." I replied, feeling my eyes grow heavy.

As I drifted off to sleep, I knew that whatever challenges we faced, we would face them together. Our love was stronger than any language barrier, and that was all that mattered. In Bill's arms, I felt at home, loved, and understood. And that was a feeling that needed no translation.

[alltoomaples]

love.jpg - LN

pairing: fem!uni student x lando norris

synopsis: lando gets invested in working with cameras after you talk about your day in photography class and you two discover a new language of love <;33

type: writing + instagram au

a/n: finally writing up the very first writing for my new series until i found you. and ik i have been super super lacked in writing. you guys have no idea how much and many ideas ive got but procastination takes the most of it! im trying my best to work upon it and now that my finals are nearing, i may try to write as a stress breaker soo fingers crossed.

until next one, happy reading <;33

part 2 is out now!! check it out :))

. . . .

You came home from your last class of the semester from uni. As much as you love photography and graphic design, its definitely tiresome when being pursued as a Masters degree. But you won't complain much about it cause at the end of the day, you love what you do. And so does your boyfriend.

"Congrats on completing another semester, bubba!" Lando greets as he speed walks to you and engulfs you in a hug.

You drop your bags carefully and hug him back tight as you mourn in exhaustion. Your whole body gives up that Lando was quick to pick you up and let the both of you fall on the couch. Chuckles leave from your mouth as he leans in and kissed your forehead.

"I'm so so proud of you, Y/N/N" He says, looking into your eye, pinning your hair behind the ear as he rests his hand on your cheek.

"I haven't completed my course, Lan"

"Yet. And soon you will be my personal photographer and designer for Quadrant" Lando says very proudly.

"Well in that case, be ready to say goodbye to your bank accounts" you say, smirking at him as you squish his cheeks.

"I'll be happy to make our joint accounts"

"It's a deal then!"

. . . .

"So tell me about your project?" Lando asks as we clean dishes after dinner.

"Well, basically, we have to make a portfolio for photography class. We need to select a theme and shoot pictures showcasing that theme" you say, as you dried the final plate.

"That sounds so much fun and creative!"

"It is actually! till you finalize the theme cause that's the main brainers" you say as you place the dishes back to the shelves and lando keeps the leftovers in fridge.

"And that's what i'm here for! Let me help you with the picture and theme and stuff" Lando says, being very supportive and super excited like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Bubba, i appreciate you and your help but you'll be busy with race weekends, PR promos and Quadrant stuff. Do you really wanna squish mine on top of this busy business??" you ask, being concerned about him.

He walks over to you, grabbing your face in his and leans in.

"Let me be a part of your project. Think of me as your project buddy who also happens to be your boyfriend" Lando says, making puppy eyes which makes harder to say no to him.

"Alrighty love. You're in!"

"Wooohoooo!!! Let's goooo babyyyy!!" He does his small victory dance as he sung to HSM: we're all in this together

You laughed silently as you walked into your work room and picked up a camera. Lando eventually followed you and found you holding the camera.

"Wait- we are already starting with the work??"

"We haven't even chosen a theme, you dum dums" you say, ruffling his head which messes the small curls a bit.

"Ohh yeah. I'd suggest you to do some trial run shots, like you know, play around capturing day to day events. Maybe something will spark and voila, you'll have a theme ready!" Lando says, as he fixed his hair while looking in the mirror.

"That's actually a great idea bubs!!! I'm gonna do that now. You really do love this subject of mine, don't you??" You ask, as you really loved his input he just gave and you're quite impressed with it.

His level of creativity is something you've always loved and appreciated his talents. And isn't it just lovely to see people talk about their passions!

And this just made you think it's time to finally give him one of your passions.

"This camera is yours from today. I've been wanting to give you this as I've seen you've been very much interested in photography and something you can take along with you and remind you of me" you say, whispering at the end as you felt your cheeks heat up due to the cliché that you just happen to say which isn't a very you thing to do.

Lando stood there with the camera in his hands, in complete awe at the gesture of yours.

"Y/N! you have no idea how much this means to me!! This isn't just any camera, this is one you truly used for your good works" He says, pulling you closer to his. He makes you look up to him, leaning in close as he kisses you softly yet lovingly. Your hands make their way behind his neck, pulling him close to you.

"I love you, so much y/n/n" Lando says, almost as a whisper as he rests his nose with yours.

"and i love you, much more lan" you whisper back with a smile as you do the eskimos kiss.

. . . .

Instagram

lando.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, charlesleclerc, y/n.clicks and 3,566,962 others

landonorris: your fellow neighborhood cameraman📸

the best gift from the best <;33 y/n.clicks

view 41,06,765 comments

username1: wait Y/N gave her VERY OWN CAMERA TO LANDO!?!?

y/n.clicks: not bad for a beginner! have fun bubby🫶🏼

lando.jpg: learnt from the best ;)) will do!❤️

username2: he learnt with her?! talk about couple goals💗💖💞

charlesleclerc_: well i guess we'll say goodbye to this camera eventually. have you thought this through y/n.clicks 🤔🤔

y/n.clicks: i had a really good run with it soo if it breaks its alright, I'll get a new one 😙

lando.jpg: you two know that i can read your comments right?? hah RUDE😡

username3: i cant- 🤣🤣🤣🤣

username4: we're gonna be seeing what lando wants people to see. I LOVE IT!!!

y/n.clicks

liked by charlesleclerc_, maxfewtrell, landonorris and 1,609,992 others

y/n_l/n: handing over ceremony📷

lando 🤝 lando.jpg

tagged: landonorris

view 105,020 comments

lanndonorris: key moment of my life and career❤️

y/n.clicks: landonorris bubbaaa🥺💗

username1: i want what they have😭😭💛

carlossainz55: wow, he is growing up🥹🥹

y/n.clicks: ikr!!!🤧🤧

landonorris: you two ughhhhh🙄🙄

username2: this is sooo adorable ahhh!!

username3: thanks to y/n now we're gonna embark the cameraman lando era!

y/n.clicks: this is just the beginning of the era!!

lando.jpg

liked by ciscanorris, y/n.clicks and 2,954,755 others

landonorris: day at the bay with my bae

tagged: y/n.clicks

view 957,542 comments

username1: oh my. oH mY! OhOh MymY!!😍🤩

y/n.clicks: caption might be chessy af but the pictures, mamma mia🥵😍

liked by lando.jpg

maxfewtrell: now i get it why you ditched for golfing, you simp!

y/n.clicks: wait what!?! lando did that??

lando.jpg: 😳😳😳😳 busted?

ciscanorris: lando ditching golf?? he's soo into his cameraman era!!!🫡💗

username3: everyone say thank you y/n for getting lando a camera

username4: seriously! THANK YOU QUEEN Y/N

lando.jpg: FACTS!! thank you y/n.clicks 🫂🫶🏼

liked by y/n.clicks

y/n.clicks

liked by ciscanorris, pierregasly, olivernorris and 10,954,755 others

y/n_l/n: my favourite kind of cheese🧀 landonorris

tagged: lando.jpg

view 45,998,972 comments

username1: the caption🥹😭💖💞💗✨️

username2: them>>>>>>

riabish: LOVE IS IN THE AIR🫶🏼✨️

danielricciardo: you guys are so disgustingly adorable🫡💖

landonorris: now who's the chessier one??😏😏

y/n.clicks: landonorris still YOU🫣

landonorris: 😂😂😂

. . . .

also I'm thinking for a part 2 for this, lemme know if you're interested too :))

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

part 2 is out now!! check it out :))

[ghostieyanyan]

Hey I really like the secret musician Mc, could I request Yan Jamil and Azul reacting?

yesss i love those two so much. But since I just did the octavinelle, I’m gonna to do scarabia, if that’s okay.

i admit that this is probably not my proudest work but i do like the ideas in it. maybe ill re write it in the future but honestly i don't have much brain capacity to re read this again and check it again. (I've done that so many time that im so tired of see this in my drafts, im so sorry xD

~Musical!mc~

Yan!Kalim x mc

Yan!Jamil x mc

Warning: yandere, obsessive nature, slight-nsfw, drugs mention (in art form), kidnapping mention,

~~~~~

Kalim

Kalim actual found out that you can sing first, Jamil wasnt happy that kalim found out first but what can you do?

He was on his way to the ramshackle dorm to invite you and Grim to a party he was throwing at Scarabia. He was really excited about it. Going through all his plans in his head. They were gonna get colorful balloons and fun games, lots of food and dancing.

But in the middle of his through, he stopped and heard something, a sweet melody. He's heard the melody before but the lyrics were new. but where is it coming from?

Like having no sense of dangerous, he started to look around for the reason. And then he saw you… through a window.

You were cleaning in the Ramshackle and singing as you did so. He was mesmerized, like he was getting hypnotized or charmed. then it clicked! That’s why he’s heard it before! He caught you humming the melody before when you and grim decided to support Ace, Jamil, and Floyd in their basketball game.

It’s was before they were playing and everyone was just getting into their seats. Since he got a special seating, where there's lot of room, vip seating, he offered a seat or 2 for you and grim. He was playing with grim when he heard it for a second. It was too short and too loud in the gym to process the melody but boy does it sounded nice. And its been in his head for a long while. He might have even tried to copy the melody or try to continue but he couldn’t, it didn’t feel right. But with how you sang it, it was just perfect! Your melody to him was like a siren calling him closer, until it’s practically trying to crawl inside.

When you finally noticed him with a quick scream. Kalim had to apologize and had to ask how you didn’t tell him about your musical talents? You should join the music club! Everyone will love you. If you tell him you were shy or that you don’t like the idea of performing in front of others. He’ll be insistent on helping you and tell you that you’re amazing. He’ll even bring the music club to show you. You be a star!

To be honest, he was 50/50 on wanting you to share you talent but he also want you to be his personal song bird. He’ll feel guilty about keeping you to himself but he’s spoiled… he doesn’t know what to do~~~

He asked Jamil on what he thoughts, can who would know him better than his best friend!!

~~~~~

Jamil

Jamil hated everything of this. How didn’t he noticed you could sing?! And how did Kalim find out before him? Has he been that busy and oblivious? Not fair. But he can’t worry about that now, now he has to worry about kalim wanting you! No, you are his! But he did want to hear you sing… he had to make a plan.

He decided that he’ll “stop by” just to see if you’ll sing for him. Which is very childish but he'd rather do a 1 on 1 sessions than the entirety of the music club taking you or even kalim being near you. Kalim has had you long enough!

If you are too shy to sing in front of jamil, he might encourage you by singing together. He does know he has a pretty silky smooth singing voice. You two would sound perfect together, like it was meant to be.

Your voice is like a snake charmer to him. Hell, do whatever you want and take care of you. He'd honestly wish you were his master instead. But he also like the idea of being the one in control. You're his so its only fair of you'll only sing for him. He'll love to sing more together. He'll love to fall asleep with you in his arms, singing him a melody that will melt his stress away as he dreams about having a life with you in his dreams

He has fallen for you so hard that he just wants to run away with you. Travel the world and see amazing places. You two will be a power couple! If there’s trouble, he’s prefect to fix it. Food, safety, awareness, smart, good looking, handsome, is there anything Jamil cant do? The only problem is that he needs you to fall for him. If you fall for him then everything will fall to place, perfectly. He would have to be tempted to hurt anyone who got too close. But thats a lot of variables in this situation, but he can handle it. He will handle anything for you. Jamil will move mountains for you. Or mind control someone strong enough to move it.

But for right now, what he allows himself to do, without being too suspicious, is whenever you come over to Kalim’s crazy childish parties, he’ll take you away for the last quarter of the party and have you sing for him. Just him. It’s enough time for no one to notice and if anyone ask? You’re using the restroom. Or you went to get some food or a drink. No one will notice a thing. Even kalim, with his puppy dog personality, will be distracted by the party. Kalim won't mind if you become his...

[yanderefarm]

Doll anon here this me when people compliment me: ( 〃▽〃) seriously it makes me happy that we all similarly want to treat Silvan like a stress ball, idk if this will be as good but more doll thoughts

Imagine someone somehow accidentally or even purposefully scarring Silvan, im thinking like large gash or burn over one of his eyes, and when Silvan awakes and realizes i can only imagine the absolute despair especially with his master being nowhere to be seen, just the maids and doctor, eventually there's no choice but for him to be completely strapped to his bed, both for the safety of others and especially himself, he still tries of course, wailing until his voice is gone the entire time, eventually he just stops and becomes completely unresponsive, well until his master finally comes back, maids in toe, with loads of new clothes and makeup, masks, eyepatches, and matching outfits for every occasion, he probably wont realize the truth at first, assuming his master is just getting an idea of how he will be posed and clothed while displayed with the others, and yet even in the face of such things, part of him is overjoyed, his master isnt throwing him away!!! He can still be a decent doll for his master!!!! It isnt until reader throws a party dressing Silvan to the nines, the purpose of the party being for reader to show off how exactly they make their dolls, of course to Silvan's suprise he's not the one being used as an example, no insteads its the person who hurt him, and as Silvan watches in both a bit of horror and awe, he notices something, your going out of your way to make this as painful for the person as possible, this isnt just a matter of showing off your skills, its a warning, anyone who touches whats yours will live to regret it, if its the last thing you do, Silvan is practically starstruck through the whole party, but he swears his heart might beat out of his chest after its over, when you sit him down and kiss and hold his smaller hands in yours, when you apologize! For leaving him for so long, reader explains they had to go a decent distance to custom order Silvans new clothes and accessories, especially the makeup really its practically a crime how far away you have to go for that particular brand, but of course, its all worth it in the end, anything for your favorite doll :) and as unfortunate as this all is really, he does look quite cute with his new lacy eyepatches and porcelain masks, if anything it just makes him look more and more like a real doll, your precious doll :)

THIS IS SO CUTE AAAAAAAA

i think he'd have some lasting insecurities about it too. he has to be supervised at all times because if he looks in the mirror when he's alone he'll start to panic and he'll end up hurting himself. with some constant escort like a maid or a guard he can't get the chance to.

sometimes it hurts too especially if its a burn he can feel the phantom pain in his face and it's terrible. he's waking up in the middle of the night screaming and crying in pain and fear because not only does it hurt but it reminds him that he's ugly. the only traits he's good for and one of them is ruined!! he needs lots of late night cuddles

[onskepa]

Heyyy! What do you think of a shy na’vi reader who’s terrified of flying with Neteyam taking her for a flight on his ikran? Change whatever you want

Lots of love!! <333

Helloooooooooooo darling! This is a cute idea! Hope you enjoy this one~!!

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Tswayon

Ikrans, banshees, predators, dangerous, beautiful, and fierce. They are essential the omaticaya clan. It is part of their world, their life, their need to live another day in the dangerous world of pandora. So when it is time for a young na'vi to claim one, obviously it is a risky thing to do as many have died, But once an ikran is tamed, success.

So why, in the world is this young na'vi girl so afraid of ikrans? Neteyam held his ikran, zeze, named after his mother's first ikran, while his dear beloved was walking back and forth.

"Not even for a little spin?" he asks while grinning. He dear beloved, Tswayon, was not a big fan of flying. Which is odd since they are masters of the sky.

Fidgeting around, tswayon was hesitant to look at neteyam straight in the eye. "I am....not f-fond of flying..." she answers shyly. Neteyam smiles even wider, his beloved was so cute. Yet it wont do him good if she keeps rejecting his invitation. He has something secret in plan. A special surprise. But it cant happen unless she flies with him.

"You are literally given the name 'fly', yet you fear it" neteyam teases. Tswayon inwardly groans, but gets closer to neteyam, taking his hands onto hers. "Please neteyam....I really really don't want to....im scared" her voice cracks and buries herself into his chest.

Neteyam caresses her head, as means to comfort her. Inwardly sighing, he wants to show her around but how when her fear is taking over?

"Tswayon...why are you scared of flying? It is part of our way of life" neteyam says. He always did tease her about the whole flying thing but never truly stopped to think why. Tswayon was playing with her hands, her tail swaying low and ears pinned down.

"....my dad didn't mean to but...one time he took me flying, I was a kid. Was my first time on his ikran. I remember it very clearly, he wanted to show me what is was like. But it was a really windy day, my dad made a sharp turn and his arm around me loosened, thus I feel...."

Neteyam inwardly gasped. To fall at such heights, and a child no less. Tswayon continued, "I feel and got hurt really bad...luckily my dad landed down quickly and carefully took me to get treated. Was lucky but took time to heal all my bones. Ever since that day....I was scared to fly again".

Neteyam hugged Tswayon silently, what she explained would traumatize anyone for life. But then he remembered, his parents always taught him to overcome his fears no matter what. So that is what he wants to do. Help his beloved over come the fear that stops her from fully enjoying flight.

"Let me help you Tswayon. I want to help you over come your fear", neteyam says as he looks into her eyes. Tswayon was ready to say something but he gently placed his finger on her lips. "I mean it, I was to help you. Don't let your fear take over your life. We can do this slowly. I wont rush you, we can do this step by step. Trust me love, I want you to know and love of riding an ikran. To feel the wing against your fact, the thrill of it".

Tswayon was skeptical but was nervous and having doubts. "Trust me my love, I want to fly with you, share the experience with you". Tswayon could resist his charming golden eyes. Who could say no to such a handsome man?

She finally nodded, feeling hopeful, "Alright, lets do it". Smiling and getting excited again, neteyam takes her hand and brings her closer to his ikran. "First, try to get to know zeze. A wonderful ikran I am happy to bond with" he explains while petting his ikran. Zeze nuzzles happily at his touch and turns to Tswayon.

"She want you to pet her" neteyam says, Tswayon was hesitant, so neteyam grabs her hand gently, and guided her to the head center of zeze's. The ikran makes a pleased sound, encouraging Tswayon to pet her more. Neteyam sees this and smiles. "See? She likes you" he comments.

Tswayon smiles, gaining more confident and caresses zeze more. The ikran enjoys the attention she is receiving, likes to be the center of everything. Chuckling a bit, still petting zeze, she comments, "she is very beautiful".

"Yes...very beautiful" neteyam says but was looking at the girl in front of him rather than his ikran. Zeze makes a noise, using her head to nudge tswayon closer. "O-oh! she must really like me" the girl giggles in amusement.

"She wants you to ride on her..." neteyam says, making tswayon look at him with wide eyes. Quickly he goes to her side and places his warm hand on her shoulder. "I promise, I will hold you tightly. Never ever will I let you go" he swears. Looking between zeze and neteyam, tswayon replies, "you promise...?" her eyes looking straight into his.

"With my life" he says with no hesitation. Taking a deep breathe, tswayon nods, "I'm ready".

Neteyam wasted no time, feeling happy he gently grabs tswayon and places her up on zeze, making her release a small squeal in surprise. Getting on zeze and behind tswayon. Gently yet firmly, he wraps an arm around her waist and his tail around her thigh, while holding on to zeze.

"Ready tswayon?" he asks softly in her ear. That caused Tswayon to blush madly, unable to speak at the moment, she nods. Linking his queue with zeze, sharing the same thoughts. "Brace yourself!" he warns and zeze takes a leap.

Tswayon screamed at the top of her lungs. Clinging tightly to neteyam, closing her eyes. Every dive, loop, sharp turns, neteyam chuckles at tswayon screams.

Finally what felt like forever, zeze was flying steadily. "Tswayon, open your eyes, look" gently nudging her. Tswayon slowly opens her eyes and gasps.

The view was lovely. The floating mountains, wild ikrans passing by, waterfalls everywhere, mist hitting her face. And the sun shinning its full glory across the forest. Has pandora looked this beautiful up high?

"oh neteyam......this is beautiful!!" Tswayon shouts out in happiness. Neteyam grins in joy. Success!

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I still didn't like those tricks you pulled" tswayon warns. Neteyam was quick to agree and continues to so steady flights.

"I am so happy you didn't backout. There is something I want to show you, I promise you, you will like it a lot". Without saying much, neteyam in link with zeze, the ikran takes lead to somewhere a bit to the north of the forest. Neteyam knew his beloved would like it.

Night arrived and all na'vi's were preparing for another night to rest. Tswayon entered her home with a bright smile on her face. Her parents noticed and were curious.

"what has got you smiling my child?" her mother asked, giggling, tswayon skips over to her father and hugs him. "Ma'sempu, tomorrow if you are not busy....can you take me to ride on your ikran?" tswayon asks nervously.

Both of her parents were silence in shock. Ever since that accident, their daughter never wanted to be near anything related to flying...

The father smiled wide and happily replied, "yes of course, first thing in the morning!". He hugged his daughter and their mother joined. Laughter filling their home.

AT LAST I AM FINISHED! sorry it took me days for this one! Stuff got in my way! but I hope you all enjoyed it! until next time! see ya!

Tswayon = fly

[candy8448]

Nothing like opening my eyes to a new linked universe update

Dawn pt8

My occasional source of dopamine XD

Its very satisfying seeing how all the traveling layers are put on. You can really imagine this scene animated

So a lot of important things were discussed, stuff the fandom have noticed before but its good that jojo finally mentioned them herself:

Shadow is the only this associated with the portals (pg1)

I LOVE how so many traits and experiences of the characters are shown here!!

Wild taking the blame first, he's got one heck a guilt complex (pg2)

We are just hit with everyone's emotions right off the bat and i love that!

I kinda like how blunt Time is

Wars talking about how "helping the wound isn't an option," things they must consider during war (pg3)

Legend trying to lighten the mood again like he always does (pg4)

I like to see how what they think of wolfie has changed now that they know it was twilight. Wars thinking its fine if the animal goes off alone cuz it doesnt understand but now making it clear that he doesn't like it

Secrets are getting in the way (such as wolfie) and hindering their process. Maybe it wouldn't have been so clunky if tgey knew exactly who wolfie is

WARS' SCARF IS BACK BABY! I got so excited when i saw it that page, dont worry guys, he has it back now!

Legend with his puzzle mind :))) my legend-centric brain is happy (pg5)

But his teasing almost boastfullness ("it just got lucky") but then turning in to actual contemplation, i love that he is also taking things seriously

Its actively seeking them out, Hyrule is wary that it will find them, like in his adventure (pg6)

They need to get better at teamwork

Four bringing in the joke about friendly fire. He definetly knows a lot about that (im reading the four swords manga for the first time and am near the begining sooo)

They need to use their arsenal

I just gotta say that i love this shot, very pleasing to my eye for some reason. But im so excited to see how everything goes with this! Im guessing in the near future, they will be taking these but to the extreme that it hinders them so they need to practice or something

Oof poor hyrule so tired of strong monsters, his games were HARD (pg7)

The power up on the sword! Ive seen a post about it before so its cool that they are noticing it, very important too!

I like the firmness with sky and time's ideas of the sword. Even though time says nothing about her we can see it, and the fact that she still sees him as her master (obviously!) It seems like they both need to sort out this dissagreement in order to not impact them even more (Pg8)

I love this especially because i just made a fic about exploring sky's and others' relationship with the master sword

I can't help but think that sky is thinking about more than just this quest in this update and back to his own adventure and maybe ghirahim. More bits in this update also make me think that ("he wants to fight" "yeah, 'cause he wont")

Wind being the one most eagre to fight! And Hyrule being the one most ready to go! I love that!

I was just thinking a few bays ago about what happened to those letters, i guess we get to see now! It seems like it might be one more update before we set off properly again (pg9)

Sky looking so happy about the mail at the end :)))

We really do get a piece of everyone and their personalities in this one

Im so excited for them to be on the road again!

[wannaeatramyeon]

mooooom! i got a request for youuu~ 💌

-young reader learned taekwondo from hansu, but never got to meet his son. so, she only knew taehoon from hansu's stories and cute photos of him aaand that's how she developed a crush on taehoon. years later, she finally meets him... but her "cute" image of him immediately shattered the moment he opened his mouth; chaos ensues 💀

this scenario has been on my mind for a while now and it makes me giggle to an unhealthy degree that i want an entire fic of it 😭 also if it wasn't obvious, i thirst for hansu content 🥺🫶 tysm in advance 🤧

p.s. i really REALLY love your fics and your writing aaaaaa 🫠 ik i already told you before and but im saying it again hehe hope you have a great day! ilyy~~ 💖💖

My dear lovely baby Rie! I saw this and thought yes, let's drop everything INCLUDING Tears of The Kingdom and write this.

But... I'm sorry, there really isn't much Hansu in this, it's very very Taehoon centric.

One of the best things about fandom is bringing people together and I'm so happy to have met you!

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Strangers to... a Not-Crush

Follow up with Hansu and Taehoon here

You're pretty sure you're in love with this Taehoon.

The first time you heard his name was during your very first Taekwondo lessons, many many years ago

Schedules, circumstances, situtations; all the usual life happenings has stopped you both from actually meeting.

But Hansu waxes lyrical about his son. You must have heard for the hundredth time how he is a spinning prodigy, how he has surpassed Hansu at a similar age, how he will be one of the best. His name destined to be written in the history books.

As Hansu talks about his son with stars in his eyes, you can't help the shine rubbing off on you too.

.

.

"Y/N, this is Taehoon."

Your jaw drops. Sure, Hansu has shown you countless pictures. Compared to the real living thing though, the gap is so vast you might as well say he's the least photogenic person alive. That's really saying something, because Taehoon photographs well.

He's one of the prettiest boys you've ever seen.

With his lips and eyes and even his goddamn hair. Are those lashes even for real? And then you notice his stature and his muscles, his rock-solid chest and abs peeking through.

Maybe he's not pretty at all. He's fucking hot.

You jaw drops even further.

Why on earth hasn't Hansu ever shown you a full body picture, he could have at least prepared you. Like a cliche, you feel weak at the knees. You feel light-headed-

Then Taehoon opens his mouth and the illusion shatters. Splinters into a hundred million little pieces. With his next words, you've never felt more pissed off in your life.

"Keep looking pervert, and I'll pluck your eyes out,"

What the fuck is this guy's problem.

.

.

For once, the stars align, and you see each other constantly.

You curse the damn stars. You curse Hansu for passing your tutelage to Taehoon. Most of all, you curse Hansu for creating this.

The idea of Taehoon is much better than this... this fucking menace you have to see day in day out.

Taehoon makes you address him as Master. He hits you on the head for stepping out of line (you bite your tongue every goddamn time), he takes no prisoners during your spars together, makes you repeat exercises over and over until you're on all fours and trying not to throw up.

And infuriatingly, he touches you.

Little corrections with his hands, his elbows, his knees, his legs, his foot. "Your stance is shit," he tells you, "your technique is still off," as he taps the offending body parts, mere millimetres out of place. Your cheeks burn every time and your skin is on fire even hours later.

What's worse is your head swims every night with Taekwondo and Taehoon.

Lying in bed, all you can see is him. That antagonising smug smile on his lips. You want to wipe it off his stupidly handsome face.

See if he has any cutting words left when, not if, you beat him in a spar, and you gloat over him, straddling his hips, trapping him between your thighs and you can feel how aroused he is-

Oh.

Shit.

You hug your pillow tighter to your body.

This relevation is a fucking nightmare.

.

.

Taehoon reckons your skills are average at best. What he's most impressed with is your dedication and tenacity.

No matter how many times he kicks your ass, you still get back up for more. Regardless of all his nitpicking and corrections with your form, you take onboard his words and listen.

He hasn't missed that it's all through gritted teeth. Still.

He also hasn't missed you blushing and your breath catching in your throat when he touches you.

Nothing not out of necessity, all completely above board. But it's still funny. Messing with you.

Taehoon tells himself he is completely unaffected. People fawn over him all the time, you looking at him with hearts in your eyes is nothing new.

It's just amusing, that's all.

.

.

You don't know whether this is heaven or hell.

Taehoon piggybacks you all the way from the studio to the emergency room. You're so close you can almost taste him, see all his faint freckles, the vein in his temple from the exertion and concern.

All this proximity is doing nothing for your crush. Which you are determined to get over, by the way. Because this guy is a goddamn asshole and nothing else.

It was a silly accident, really. You went for an opening when there was none, causing Taehoon to mistime his kick. You collapsed like a sack of shit.

Worried hands check up on you even as his mouth runs.

"It's fine," you say, waving off his concern. When you tried to stand up, your ankle is in no mood to bear any weight.

You go down for a second time.

Taehoon's patience is unexpected. He waits with you until you are seen to.

Conversation is strained, and he doesn't talk much, just giving you wary glances every now and then.

But you fill the silence, telling him little anecdotes from your life and your day. Bridging the gap between Taekwondo and the little pieces that make up the rest of your life.

His lips quirk as you speak. The smiles aren't condescending.

Eventually, when the nurse tells you it's just a simple strain and will heal if you keep off it, Taehoon is the one that nods and asks follow up questions.

At the end of the day, after another piggyback this time to your home, you thank him for his time and he is surprised at your sincerity.

.

.

Taehoon doesn't miss you. Definitely not.

The only reason he is at your door with stew and kimchi is because his old man told him to check up on you.

You're not able to attend any lessons while you recover, and Hansu wanted to make sure you're ok. Not Taehoon. Taehoon could not care less. He also did not jump at the chance of seeing you again, so much so that even Hansu gives him a questioning look. Ridiculous.

Why is his palm sweaty? Must just be the heat. Taehoon wipes it on his jeans before knocking twice on your door.

"Come in," you call out, and Taehoon hasn't missed your voice. And he hasn't missed the sight of your face neither.

He doesn't greedily take in the colours of your bedroom, the pictures on your wall, the books on your shelf.

He doesn't memorise your handwriting when he walks past your desk, something that is so uniquely you, like a fingerprint.

And when you give him a shy smile and apologise for the mess, it doesn't affect him.

Nor when you take the proffered food and have a mouthful, Taehoon doesn't soften at this.

The ensuing silence is not comfortable. He doesn't want to stay longer. His fingers don't twitch in your presence, having grown used to casual touches with you.

.

.

This song and dance is continued for the next few weeks only because Taehoon is a good son, and an even better teacher.

He needs to check up on the welfare of his student.

And then finally, after too long, when you show up at the studio again, Taehoon's heart absolutely does not soar.

[hazyskyline]

poukie | n. kamden

desc. | kamden and (y/n) have been in a long distance relationship for 2 years, and (y/n) plans a little surprise for kamden.

pairing | boyfriend!kamden x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

word count | 659

genre | fluff

warnings | none

bold text - (y/n)’s messages | italicized text - kamden’s messages

——————————————————————————

kam, i miss u 😕😕

i miss you too 😔😢

it had been 1 year since kamden went back to korea, 2 years since you got together, and 3 years since you first met him. you met him in a dance class back in the states and the two of you hit it off immediately. the day ended with both of you getting each other’s number.

if i go to korea.. can we binge watch boys planet and ur fancams?

if u come, ill make sure to block all the videos on every device when u walk into the airport

wow, youre just the master of sarcasm arent u

guilty as charged 🫡

you have to say, he was good at making you happy. he was even better at making you miss him. if only you could actually go to korea.. wait.

“why don’t i go to korea?!” you said, having an eureka moment.

you quickly opened your browser and looked up flights to korea. a flight to korea in two days. you booked the flight and the countdown started.

always found guilty of that charge mr. na

sry kamden but i have to go now, i love u poukie 😍😍)

not that nickname again.. i love u too (y/n) 🫶

you shut off your phone and grabbed your luggage. though it was two days away, a little early packing never hurt anyone..

——————————————————————————

it was the day. the day! you grabbed the luggage you packed when you pulled an allnighter, too excited to fall asleep that night. you literally, LITERALLY, ran out your door. you rushed to put your luggage and get into you uber.

you sat down and pulled out your phone, instantly pulling up your texts with “poukie ❤️”

ill see u in 12 hours 😘😘

hm? what do you mean? do you want to facetime? im free right now if you want

you’ll see, oh btw are u free in 12 hours?

yes… why?

no particular reason! ☺️

im slightly concerned babe..

your uber arrived at the airport. you grabbed your luggage from the trunk and walked into the airport. you slowly went through the process. security, walking to your gate, and waiting. pulling up kamden’s texts again, you messaged him.

i do wanna facetime but ill be busy for like 12 hours, so ill text u when im done!!

awh, i wanted to see u :c, have a nice 12 hours :p

your boarding group was called and you quickly went onto the plane. you practically sprinted to your seat, stowed away your carry-on, and sat in your seat. you eagerly awaited for the plane to take off and for you to finally see your boyfriend again.

——————————————————————————

“- please fasten your seatbelt, put your tray up, and prepare for landing”

you rubbed your eyes before a flight attendant came to tell you to buckle up. you groggily obliged before remembering where you were.

kamden!

you got a burst of energy, your brain now bouncing off the walls of your skull with excitement.

the plane landed and you and the other passengers slowly siphoned out of the plane.

as soon as you got to the waiting area where the next group was waiting to board, you pulled out your phone.

kamden

no response.

kamden!

no new messages.

poukie!

hm? yeah whats up?

can you pick me up?

what? i mean unless i can drive across an ocean, im afraid i cant

check my location 🤭🤭

…what are you doing in korea?

you laughed, drawing attention from the people getting on the plane. you excused yourself and walked to the exits of incheon airport.

well.. remember when i said i missed you. i got an amazing idea, to go to korea!

why would you do that! it’s so.. impulsive! 🫠🫠

well theres no avoiding it now so.. can you pick me up from the airport :D

… of course i can love.

you were extremely happy and excited to spend the next two weeks with your lovely poukie.

——————————————————————————

a.n | please tell me y’all get the pun with poukie 🙏🙏 (pou as in the character he looks like and pookie as in the silly little nickname) i love kamden. also you cannot convince me otherwise that kamden wouldn’t use emoticons in his texts, ESPECIALLY “:p”

feel free to leave criticism in the comments!!

[crookednachogalaxy]

HI so im just gonna throw out a random idea and see if it sticks, cause i have Thoughts once again and i refuse to keep them to myself.

(also, this is long as hell, you have been warned.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

give me Mario and Luigi as a broken family. from the outside in they look almost perfect, the wacky brother duo who could do it all from princess saving to ghost hunting to plumbing.

Mario is the older brother, by 8 or so years, the extraverted and energetic hero who is always ready to go save the princess or lend a helping hand. he's the one who's got every situation under control, his confidence and happy demeanor bringing smiles to every toad around.

his younger brother Luigi, on the other hand, seems much more like an introverted homebody than anything else. he's the one staying behind when Mario goes on his big missions, helping to rebuild the Mushroom Kingdom after each kidnapping. he's the one doing most of the actual plumbing, his anxious and quiet personality keeping him distant from everyone. despite that, he's successfully faced off King Boo three separate times.

behind the outside facade, however, things aren't as shiny between the brothers as they may seem.

their upbringing in Brooklyn was rough. they spent most of their younger years homeless, and given their age gap, it was Mario who had to provide for Luigi in any way he could. that meant stealing food to eat, but also fighting those that wanted to harm them - and Luigi's trusting nature made it a common occurrence. it's due to this that Mario was forced to control both his and Luigi's life to the fullest, and this behaviour, born out of fear for their very lives, became so engrained in him that he never let it go even when they were finally safe after being transported to the mushroom kingdom.

for Luigi, this complete control from Mario meant that he was never really able to develop his own personality. he never went anywhere without Mario, never did anything without Mario; and while his brother liked to believe that he was keeping his baby brother safe in their little bubble, unknowing of the hardships they were facing, Luigi knew.

he only really noticed it when he started to attend school (after his brother learned a trade and managed to find a stable job). he saw it in the way the other children sneered at his worn clothes, heard it in the way they would whisper about him when they thought he couldn't hear. Luigi was never outright bullied, but he was definitely Othered by his peers, and coupling that with his brother's iron grip on everything he did, being unable to explore any part of himself, and the deep-seated paranoia that Mario let slip in any of their conversation messed with his head. it's how he became so anxious, so deeply afraid of everything around him, and how he ultimately ended up tying his worth as a person to his brother's existence. he was absolutely dependent on Mario.

when Luigi graduated, he learned the same trade his brother had, and worked at the same company as well. they continued this co-dependency for a few years; during one job they did together they were transported to the mushroom kingdom - Luigi in his early 20s and Mario approaching 30 - and they were taken in by Princess Peach.

they were offered a nice little house to live in, just outside the capital. their plumbing skills were helpful, as they quickly started to earn their keep. Mario especially became a well-liked figure among toads, being a master at hiding any negative emotion inside him to keep a calm and happy front. he made sure to be the one to gain every toad's favour, so that they wouldn't be forced out of the home they were given, and so that Luigi would, by pure association, never face any trouble here.

when the kidnappings started, Mario quickly became the mushroom kingdom's hero. his survival and fighting skills led to a quick rescue, and it paved the way for friendship between the Princess and the brothers (Peach being the first friend that Mario truly allowed Luigi to have, eventually extending that grace to Peach's cousin, Daisy).

Peach and Luigi's friendship had a slow beginning, with Luigi having close to no social skills or hobbies that they could talk about. but as she gained Mario's trust over time, he started allowing Luigi to be alone with her for short periods of time; and those were just what she needed to help him get to know himself.

it started with baking, and then later on cooking. sewing, piano, singing, painting - bit by bit she introduced the younger brother to various hobbies to help him find out what he liked to do. aside from these activities, the longer they spent together the deeper their friendship ran. Peach was a healing presence to be around, and Luigi proved himself to be a caring and immensely loyal friend to her.

their friendship also meant, however, that Luigi started insisting on joining Mario in his rescue missions, something Mario absolutely hated the thought of. it's too dangerous for you to go, he would say. she's my best friend, Mario, i can't take being left alone to worry.

Mario would always put his foot down in the end.

this power struggle between the two would only grow bigger and bigger. Luigi wanted more independence, to make his own decisions, and Mario always denied him, telling him that it was to keep him safe. arguments became more and more frequent, and they both became angrier at the other for their behaviour. it all came to a head when Luigi, furious at having been left behind again, left the house in the middle if the night following after his brother in an attempt to help with the rescue.

it took him much longer to traverse the plains towards the koopa kingdom than it did Mario; after all, he had never left Toad Town before, nor travelled this far on foot on only survival equipment. he did reach Bowser's castle eventually, finding a way to sneak in unseen. in the chaos that ensued within the castle, Luigi found a way to help his brother out but paid the price of being caught by him, too. it infuriated the older brother to no end.

the walk back to the mushroom kingdom was tense, and largely silent. Mario was refusing to look at anyone or even say a single word, only keeping a tight grip on Luigi's wrist as they walked. Luigi was deeply afraid of Mario's wrath in that moment, knowing he was in for it when they got back home. Peach tried to fill the silence somehow, keep both brothers distracted, but the older one stayed unreactive whereas any light conversation from the younger was short.

the two dropped the Princess off at the castle, and she watched pale and afraid as Mario dragged Luigi back to their home without so much as a goodbye.

the fight that started when the front door closed was the worst one yet. Mario was yelling, gesturing wildly as he reiterated the thongs he's told Luigi a million times over. his brother was trying to defend himself, for the first time truly trying to air out his grievances and get him to see his perspective. but Mario would barely let him get a word in, not even looking at him as he continued. it culminated in Mario telling Luigi in anger the very thing he had been afraid of his whole life: that he was to blame for what happened to them, that their hardships were his fault, that he was a burden to his brother.

it broke something inside of Luigi.

Mario continued screaming out every thought that came to his head, not noticing the way his brother had gone quiet, the way tears were rapidly streaming down his face. in fact, the older brother wouldn't notice it at all for the rest of the conversation, instead banishing his brother to his room to reflect on what he's done before leaving the house to cool off.

Luigi felt numb, and out of place. his brother had just told him he hated him (using different words) and then left him. it almost seemed like the walls were closing on him the longer he stayed in this room, suffocating him with every memory that existed here. it took him a few hours before he could move his stiff and tired body - but when he did it was dead of night, and Mario was still gone. the words he had said echoed through his head relentlessy. and as if he were on auto-pilot, he packed up a few sets of clothes, some non-perishables from the pantry, and whatever other thing his fried brain could think of. with only a short note, he left behind the life he knew.

Luigi ran away.

he didn't care to notice which way he went as he ran, all he wanted at that moment is to run as far away as possible and for as long as he could. he had to get away, no matter where the road took him. the road he had taken, however, was the one leading straight to the koopa kingdom; his brain having defaulted to the only familiar route it knew in the darkness.

and so the plumber found himself disheveled and dirty as he faced the koopa capital, having spent a night or two on unfamiliar roads with nightmares to boot. his eyes were bloodshot, dark circles under his eyes, and his body all kinds of exhausted.

he spent a few more nights camping just outside the town, during the day trying to get any odd job that would pay. he needed the money to afford a temporary stay and food, as his rations were depleting at a quicker rate than expected. it was hard to find those odd jobs, however, as no one seemed willing to trust a disheveled, dirty, unknown human who only appeared days ago. fair, he thought, not being able to really bring himself to care.

soldiers patrolling the border of the capital caught sight of him, and, after realizing he posed no threat, took pity on him. they brought him to the castle for an audience with the king, hoping that he may give this human a second chance at life that he so clearly needed.

when Luigi saw Bowser, he felt that familiar fear creep in. it lasted only for a single moment, as his brain decided to harshly remind him that Bowser was Mario's enemy, not his. and he couldn't take the Peach justification as he had left her behind without a second thought as well. so why should he care? it made no difference after all.

the plumber spoke to the king with utmost politeness, yet the numbness was easily recognizable by anyone who saw him. when Bowser, who evidently didn't see or remember him from the last rescue, questioned him, Luigi said he had nowhere to return to, no home to call his; that he was a plumber by trade looking for work anywhere it was available. Bowser offered him a deal: become the official castle plumber (and pick up some other skills along the way to be useful), and in exchange he would be given a staff bedroom and be fed 3 meals a day. Luigi accepted.

the first few weeks passed with no issue. the plumber did his work quietly and efficiently, staying respectful to any other caste staff and nodding to the King when they passed each other. one night, however, King Bowser found the plumber staring out at the rivers of lava in the dead of night, tears rolling down his cheeks and sniffling. when the koopa approached him, Luigi went back to that neutrality/apathy that Bowser was used to seeing from him; but their conversation, brief and guarded, brought out a tiny shred of understanding for the other. there was more to the man in green than the koopa had thought, and now he felt interest in getting to know him. Luigi, in turn, realized that Bowser may not be as monstrous or power hungry as he had heard before. the smallest of olive branches had been extended.

over the coming time, Bowser would be the one to make an effort for friendship/companionship. he would slowly start breaking down the walls that Luigi had built to protect himself from the world and his own thoughts. the process required a lot of patience, something Bowser struggles with, but seeing how Luigi treats him so normally, as if he were any other person and not a monster made it worth it.

meanwhile, Mario was going crazy in the mushroom kingdom. the first 2 days after their fight he had refused to enter Luigi's room, believing that he was in one of his moods and thats why he didn't respond to Mario's calls for food. by the third morning his anger had faded and worry set in. he knocked on his brother's door, gently calling to him that he wants to talk and apologize, and to come out and eat. when he received no reply, he opened the door himself to see the room empty, no sign of Luigi, his essentials packed and bed made. his blood ran cold as the realization swept in that his brother had run away.

in a panic, he ran to Peach's castle. when he found her, he barely got the words out of Luigi's disappearance before he had a panic attack, his head filling with self-loathing thoughts. he's not aware as he's taken to the infirmary and seen by the castle's doctor, and it takes him a while to come back down again. Peach is by his side the entire time, teary-eyed, as she watched over Mario and prayed for Luigi's safety.

for the first time in their lives, the brothers have been completely separated from one another. Mario spent his days in grief, staying in the castle, trying to break out every night to go find Luigi himself. Peach increased security around the castle, holding him back, saying that Mario would make no progress in the state he was in. she sent out several scout groups to search the entire kingdom for her friend, but the results stayed fruitless.

Luigi and Bowser's friendship deepens in the meantime. slowly but sure his walls start to come down, he showed more emotions, smiling and laughing just the smallest bit as he gets to know Bowser. he also met the King's son, Junior, whom he got along great with. things seemed to be looking up for him; he had found a new home, he was making new friends apart from the King as well, and the townspeople started welcoming him.

then, for the first time in a while, Bowser kidnapped Peach once more.

if truth be told, the day started like any other for Luigi. he was told by Kamek that Bowser was busy with his kingly duties, so he spent the morning helping the kitchen staff prep for lunch and then read a book in the library. by early afternoon, Junior had come looking for him to play a while, and after that Luigi went into the city for a small job or two, exchanging pleasantries with the citizens of the capital. by the time he was back in the castle, the day was over and the prince was asleep. he came across the King by complete accident, greeting him as he usually did when both he and Bowser froze at the heartbreaking cry of Luigi's name.

hesitantly looking up at the cage he hadn't seen before, he saw a person he thought he'd never see again. in that cage stood Peach, holding on tightly to the bars as she cried. Luigi's small whisper of Peachie...? told Bowser all he needed to know in that moment. when the plumber started walking towards the cage, picking up speed with every step and reaching for it, Bowser quietly opened and lowered the cage. he watched in shock and surprise as the Princess threw herself at the plumber, sobbing, and told him how worried she was about him, how glad she was that he was safe. it took him a moment to react, but when he did, Luigi broke down completely in her arms, both sinking to the ground in their embrace.

Kamek ended up leading them all to the study to talk it out. Luigi had clammed up again, refusing to talk to Bowser or Peach. Bowser put a gentle hand to Luigi's back; when he hesitantly looked up at the koopa, he saw no sign of betrayal, or hurt. just gentle concern, and a quiet promise of i'm here. he explained to them both the fight he had with Mario, how he had come to the koopa kingdom and how he found his place here. all Peach cared to know was if he was safe and happy. Luigi's affirmation of that had Bowser happier than he wanted to admit. out of that conversation also came the reason Bowser was kidnapping the princess in the first place; that being resources. the vulnerability of that conversation and Luigi's question of helping the koopa kingdom has Peach and Bowser agreeing to start peace negotiations.

as always, Mario came to rescue Peach. upon Luigi's insistence, she didn't tell Mario that his brother was there, and she did her best to try and get Luigi's perspective through his head - hoping that eventually the brothers could meet again and work out their issues. for now, she could only see her dear friend when negotiations were happening.

on the koopa end of things, that vulnerability from the conversation with peach paved the way for a deeper relationship between Bowser and Luigi. things developed slowly between them, as the plumber would need time before he can truly trust again, but the affection and the intentions were there. they were both happy to explore this new dynamic at a slow pace, both wanting to do right by the other. very fluffy.

when Luigi felt ready for it, he asked Daisy to tell his brother that he was well. he didn't want to reveal his location, or say anything else; but he was starting to heal, and a part of him missed his brother dearly, and so he figured letting him know hey, i'm okay, and when i'm ready for it i'll see you again was alright. when Daisy delivered the message per phone call, Mario was frantic to know more, but Peach and Daisy both talked him down. Mario was slowly starting to accept that he had to go at Luigi's pace, let him make his own decisions. it pained him, but he agreed. he told Daisy to tell Luigi that he was glad he was well, and that he would wait.

the response from his brother had Luigi in shambles for a day, one part happy that his brother was finally coming around and the other furious that it took him running away for it to happen. Bowser stayed beside him throughout that day, offering his comfort to his sweetheart.

and so, the years started passing. peace was signed between the two kingdoms, and small steps were taken every once in a while by the brothers to slowly repair their relationship. it started with the passing of messages through Daisy, and it would turn into letters updating the other on their lives. Mario told Luigi that he was with Peach, and in turn Luigi was honest about his relationship with Bowser (that one took Mario a while to process, but he was learning to let go of that need for control; Luigi told him he was happy and that's all that mattered).

the first time they meet in person again is a few years after their fight and the peace treaty. Peach and Mario made their way to the koopa kingdom on Luigi's invitation, and the reunion in the throne room was tense at first. Peach and Bowser both kept watch over the brothers, ready to step in at any moment.

the brothers themselves were frozen in place, staring at one another. it felt so foreign to stand in front of each other, after years apart and limited communication. Mario took the first steps, placing a hesitant hand to Luigi's cheek. when he responded to the soft call of his name, both brothers hugged each other tightly, crying openly and loudly. over the two days that he and Peach were in the koopa kingdom, that is all Mario and Luigi did - no words were exchanged between them, but they did not let go of the other, catching up on the lost affection.

it would take many more years for their relationship to become "normal" again. many arguments, periods of no contact, and apologies. they were both healing from a lifetime of hurt at their own paces, but ultimately they both made the effort to repair their relationship. when Mario and Peach married, Luigi was there as best man, and the same was said for Luigi and Bowser's wedding. Junior would eventually come to adore his uncle Mario, and his children would enjoy many vacations in the koopa kingdom with uncle Luigi. they both chose different paths for themselves, but what mattered most was that they both chose a path of love and healing, one that they could walk together in time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

so that's it i guess. now that i've written it out, this turned into a whole ass fic idea when that wasn't the case originally, CLEARLY i don't know how to be concise. oh well.

if anyone wants to pick this up, feel free! just let me know if you do something with it because i wanna see the results of it :D