#its cold! they're sleepy!

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

Cold = Sleeby (sleepy)

[bleach-your-panties]

JJK Men: When You're Sleepy, But They're Horny🍒🎀

(a/n: i usually suck ass at headcanons but let's give this a whirl. characters aged 18+. nsfw mdni, sexual content. fem reader)

(characters: yuuji, megumi, nanami, toge, gojo)

dividers: glitter-graphics, @/cafekitsune

♥︎

Yuuji:

It's 9pm and you had just returned from a solo mission, finished your shower, hair routine, and climbed into bed. You hear the soft click of your room door opening and you know that it has to be none other than your boyfriend, Yuuji.

"Babe, are you still awake?" His soft voice whispers right beside your ear before he presses a kiss to the side of your head. You groan out something unintelligible and Yuuji's heart sinks a bit.

He's really hard and he was hoping that you might feel like 'playing' a little, but he also knows that you're probably really tired.

"I can feel you pouting, Yuu. Put it in my hand."

You stretch your palm out from under your covers and Yuuji is quickly shoving his pants down to free his hard dick.

"T-thank you, so much, cutie. Fuck, I love you!" He whimpers/whispers as you stroke him with your nice, warm fingers running all along his shaft.

He's so pent-up that it only takes a few rough tugs before he's spilling his seed into your hand.

"Promise to fuck you good when you wake up, baby. You're so good to me."

You were already snoring before he cleaned your hand off and left your room silently.

♥︎

Megumi:

You're curled up in bed with Megumi spooning while the two of you watch anime. You've finished nearly half the season in the last couple hours that you've been watching and now your eyes are drooping.

Megumi is still watching the TV but his eyes flit down to where your ass is pressed against his crotch. The sleep shorts you're wearing give him a perfect view of your thighs.

Being a semi-grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer, you have keen awareness and heightened senses, so you automatically feel Megumi's stone cold blue eyes boring into your back.

"What is it, Megara?" You yawn out, turning slightly to look at him over your shoulder. He rolls said eyes.

"Told you to stop calling me that."

He answers your question by rutting his hips forward and rubbing his hard-on against your ass.

"I'm tired, Megs. Here." You turn over halfway on to your stomach, fully presenting your ass to him and his eyes widen at the gap made by your thighs.

He sinks his dick into the makeshift hole and fucks it slowly, edging himself, until he feels his balls tighten and he's cumming into the opening.

A warm blush covers his cheeks but he dutifully grabs some wipes and cleans you off before kissing your head and pulling you into his chest.

♥︎

Nanami:

Kento is working another late shift and you just can't stay up waiting for him any longer.

You're quickly falling asleep in the armchair when the front door knob twists and he steps inside.

"Angel, are you asleep in the chair?"

"Mmm...Kento is that you?" You drawl with your head resting against the cushion. He chuckles at your cuteness.

"Yes, it's me, darling. Come on, let's get you to bed.

"Okay."

Once he's laid you on the bed, he can't help but begin to caress your smooth legs up to your thighs hidden beneath your nightgown.

His dick begins to strain against his dress pants but he looks up at your blissful face and dares not to ask you if you want to make love.

"Kento...what's wrong? Come on to bed, already."

"Do you mind if I eat you out, darling?"

Your heart swells ten times its size just knowing how much he cares for you.

"Mhmm, please..."

And he dives right in, sucking and licking you to Nirvana. It feels so good, your legs start shaking and you're cumming over his handsome face in record time.

Your orgasm completely knocks you out cold and he chuckles at your peaceful form before undressing to his boxers and climbing under the covers with you.

♥︎

Toge:

You're cuddled up in Toge's bed with him looking at memes and funny videos on his phone.

With a free day from classes, the two of you had been out all day exploring Tokyo and now you're absolutely exhausted.

You snuggle into his warm chest and inhale the scent of his laundry detergent. Toge kisses the top of your head, his lavender eyes then trailing down over your beautiful face....your lithe neck with the necklace he bought you for your birthday around it, and further down to your tits.

He softly inhales and wraps an arm around your back to press you further against him so he can feel your breasts squished against his hard chest.

You shuffle a bit in his hold and your sleepy eyes look up into his amethyst ones.

"Toge...?"

His dick is hard and swollen against his thigh, but you look so cute like this - he can't help but lean his head down to kiss each of your breasts.

"Sleep."

Your body can't do anything but obey.

That was probably the best sleep you'd gotten in a while.

♥︎

Gojo:

Satoru was away for the day on a field trip with his students and you decided to clean the entire house while he was away. You never had the time to do it when he was around because you'd either be holed up in the bedroom all day or pressed up against some random piece of furniture with him thrusting into you wildly.

When you finished the upstairs, you decided to go lie down and have a quick nap before he got back.

Hours later, you're still knocked out; the cleaning had really drained you more than you realized.

"Honeybun, I'm home and I brought you a souvenir!~"

Your joyful husband slams open the bedroom door with some shopping bags in tow.

The bags drop to the floor and he immediately hushes himself once he sees that you're asleep.

"Aww, look at my precious sleeping baby.." He slips off his blindfold, revealing his beautiful, crystalline blue eyes while he shreds himself of his work clothes and joins you in the bed.

The movements make you shift around a bit and then you feel warm breath over your neck and cheeks.

"Hm, Satoru.." Your hand tangles into his soft white locks while his lips press against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet, hungry kisses on your sweet-scented skin.

"Missed you so much, sweetie...need to have you right now."

There was rarely a time when this man wasn't horny for you, but if you refused and wanted to just sleep, he wouldn't object. He knows that even though you're not a sorcerer you still have a life and things that keep you occupied when he's away.

You shift until you're lying completely on your back and Satoru is spreading your thighs with his knees. He pulls out his cock and begins stroking it until it's hard and leaking pre-cum.

"I love you.." He murmurs into your hair once he's sunken all eight inches inside your tight cunt.

Your eyes close instinctively, but he pats your cheek before gripping your chin in his rough grip.

"Look at me. I want to watch your pretty eyes while I fuck you back to sleep."

----

i actually fell asleep while writing this loool. going back to sleep now, peace.

[angelbaby191]

Good Morning

Kirishima x Bakugo x Reader

Sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window, softened by the light gray curtains you’d pulled closed the night before, casting a gentle glow over the room. Katsuki let out a low groan, shifting beneath the covers as he squinted against the brightness, his hand rubbing at his eyes.

It took him a moment to register the warmth pressing against his side. Eijiro was curled up next to him, one arm slung around Katsuki’s waist, their legs tangled together beneath the blanket. For a second, Katsuki considered pushing him off—this wasn’t their usual sleeping position, after all—but the steady rise and fall of Eijiro’s breathing lulled him, making it easy to relax into the comfort of their shared warmth.

Eijiro stirred a moment later, his forehead pressing against Katsuki’s shoulder, a faint smile playing at his lips as he mumbled something unintelligible. His eyes fluttered open, and he let out a quiet laugh as he took in their position.

“Morning, Kat,” he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.

Katsuki scowled, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Don’t start with that cutesy morning crap.”

Eijiro just chuckled, though his hand gave Katsuki’s waist a little squeeze. “Whatever you say.” His gaze drifted to the bedside table, where two glasses of water sat waiting for them, already beaded with condensation. The sight made him smile, the thought of you anticipating their rough morning warming him from the inside.

Katsuki grabbed the glass, sitting up with a groan as he took a long drink. The water was cold, refreshing, and he could practically feel the relief washing over him with every sip. Eijiro reached for his own glass, mirroring him with a grateful sigh.

“You think they’re awake already?” Eijiro asked, glancing toward the door.

A faint clatter from the kitchen answered the question for him, and the two of them shared a knowing look. Even in the hazy aftermath of last night’s party, it didn’t surprise either of them that you’d be up first, taking care of things. Katsuki couldn’t help the little smirk that tugged at his lips as he ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to tame it a bit.

“Guess we should get up,” he muttered, though there was a reluctance in his tone. It was rare for them to have a lazy morning like this, waking up in a tangle of limbs and surrounded by the warmth of each other.

Eijiro grinned, stretching before throwing off the blankets. “Yeah, they're probably making breakfast, too. You know they always spoil us after nights like these.”

They shuffled out of the bedroom, bleary-eyed but a little more awake, the scent of something warm and savory drawing them toward the kitchen. As they approached, the comforting aroma of your cooking filled the apartment—eggs, a hint of melted cheese, and something else that made Katsuki’s stomach rumble, despite his lingering hangover.

There you were, standing at the stove, dressed in one of Eijiro’s oversized hoodies, its sleeves rolled up to keep out of the way as you carefully stirred a pan of scrambled eggs. A plate of toast was already stacked on the counter, along with two mugs of coffee waiting beside it.

Eijiro leaned against the doorframe, a fond smile on his face as he watched you. “Morning, baby.” he called softly.

You turned to look at them, smiling as they walked in, your eyes taking in their rumpled, sleepy forms. “Morning, sleepyheads,” you teased, turning back to the stove. “I figured you’d need a little fuel after last night.”

Katsuki’s smirk was barely hidden as he stepped closer, grabbing one of the mugs and taking a sip. “You know us too well,” he muttered, the warmth of the coffee soothing his throat.

Eijiro reached for the plate of toast, nibbling on a piece as he came up beside you. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know,” he said, though the grateful tone in his voice was unmistakable. “We’d have survived.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow. “Please. I know how you two get. Besides, I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.”

Katsuki looked away, hiding the hint of a smile that tugged at his lips as he settled into a chair at the kitchen island. There was something grounding, comforting, in the way you just knew them, how you anticipated these little needs without being asked. Eijiro slid into the seat beside him, his usual brightness subdued but still warm as he bit into his toast.

“Anything we can help with?” Eijiro asked, though his tone suggested he was perfectly content just to sit there, watching you.

You shook your head, plating the scrambled eggs and passing the dishes over to them. “Just eat. That’s help enough.”

Katsuki let out a contented hum as he dug in, the warm, cheesy eggs a perfect cure for his pounding headache. Eijiro was quieter than usual, his gaze drifting between you and Katsuki, a soft look in his eyes as he took in the peacefulness of the morning.

For a few minutes, the kitchen was filled with the quiet sounds of breakfast—mugs clinking, the scrape of forks against plates, and the gentle hum of the city outside the window. It was simple, but there was something about the routine that felt deeply satisfying, like an unspoken promise of many more mornings like this.

As you sat down with your own coffee, Katsuki caught your eye, his expression surprisingly soft. “Thanks, angel. For… you know, takin’ care of us.”

You waved off his gratitude, but the warmth in your smile gave you away. “Of course. I kind of like having you two around, after all.”

Eijiro’s hand found yours beneath the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Good. Because we’re not going anywhere.”

[buckyalpine]

Bucky in blue pjs who is soft and shy and so cute but sometimes sleeps naked when it gets too hot - I really love a happy, cuddly, shy Bucky. I thought this was adorable, I refuse to not make you all think about it too:

Bucky who got the softest pair of baby blue pj's for his birthday and it's all he wears to sleep. It's his favorite thing ever. He blushed when he saw the letters JBB sewed on the inside; he has no idea who got it for him and he's happy to let it remain a mystery though he secretly hopes they're from you. He saw you sneaking a peek at the size label of his t shirt before scurrying off out the door.

He looks so cozy when he's lounging in them, usually tucked in some corner with a book, a glass of milk and some chocolate chip cookies. He was also given a new pillow; a firm one that wasn't too soft. At first he was reluctant to use it but now he can't go anywhere without it. Imagine how precious he'd look trudging around with it on a moving night because he's sleepy but he doesn't want to miss out either. He starts off awake but seconds later, his face is smushed into the pillow and he's softly snoring. You always make sure to tuck him in with the throw blanket and it never fails to make him let out a content little sigh. Him being a soft, shy little cutie is exactly why the next part is everything.

Him sleeping naked.

As the weather warms up, the AC is on full blast and thank god for Stark technology because it can get as cold as winter if needed.

However.

It wasn't perfect.

It conked out and it leaves everyone as grumpy as ever because no one can sleep and Tony keeps insisting he'll figure it out any day now. Everyone looks miserable except Bucky. He looks as happy as a clam coming down for breakfast in his favorite pj's.

"How on earth did you get any sleep Bucky?" You can't believe he looks so well rested, especially when he has the serum that keeps him extra warm.

"And you're in full on pajamas, you slept in that?!" Steve gawks from the side while you also continue to look at him curiously, his cheeks tinting pink.

"I-

What no one knows is Bucky sleeps naked as the day he was born when it gets too hot. His body did a decent job of regulating heat on its own but throwing off the extra layers didn't hurt.

Of course, he didn't want to tell anyone that part.

The part where when it gets too warm, he starts off by shucking off his shirt. Then eventually his pants. He could keep his boxers on but his door was locked and it just feel so freeing-

"Buck?"

"I slept fine!" He blurts out hoping you wouldn't pry anymore while his best friend stares at him suspiciously. He races out of the kitchen as soon as he has his coffee and he hopes to drop the subject.

But he isn't so lucky.

Because on a particularly exhausting night, he doesn't realize he didn't fully shut his door. You were on your way to your room, peeking in to say goodnight seeing as he hadn't closed the door yet but-

You squeaked seeing his perfectly toned ass, thighs spread apart, back muscles relaxed, all on full display, blinking frozen on the spot before quickly slipping out of his room and shutting the door behind you.

You're beyond giddy for the rest night, unable to shake the image of a very naked, sleeping Bucky out of your mind; his pretty face relaxed, the gentle snores, his meaty legs, his cute butt-

stop.

You will yourself to think of something else but how could you when he looked so perfect. The next day Bucky notices you acting jumpy around him while making breakfast which is unusual for you...

"Everything okay, y/n?" He asks so gently and you nearly melt on the spot, biting back a smile.

"I-I came by your room to say good night, thought you were still awake" You shrug, eyes flicking to his before looking back down at your feet, letting him piece together what you were hinting at. His brows furrow before his eyes grow wide, cheeks flushed down to his neck and up to his ears. You could have sworn you heard him squeak when he stammers out a response. Barely.

"Oh-I-when-what time did you come" He has no idea what you saw or didn't see but either way he knows you know. He hadn't even bothered with clothes the night before going right from the shower straight to bed, fuck what if you didn't want to speak to him again-

"I see why you're able to sleep so well now. It's our secret" You throw him a wink, giggling before running off and Bucky nearly faints himself, he thought he couldn't possibly fall in love more but-

Anyway idk what's wrong with me, my mind has been off the deep end somewhere.

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

How about the mk1 characters getting annoyed ( cause you know women like to sleep with pillows or blankets or something between their legs and just lay there cuddled up with a pillow) cause they're cuddling a pillow one I'm their arms and one between their legs

MK1 characters genuinely beefing with a pillow

(bi han, johnny cage, syzoth, tomas vrbada)

this is actually so real of you anon i cannot sleep unless i have 4 pillows with me (requests open as always :D)

Bi Han

-Is offended by the gratuitous amount of pillows you’ve managed to populate the already cramped bed with.

-In the beginning of sharing a bed with him he’d just sleep faced away from you so he never realized this was always something you did; and probably took it personally 

-He suggests that you are being childish and in a moment of mild embarrassment, says you can just hold onto him instead.

-Good on him for voicing his needs and opening up to his partner! But you don’t have the heart to tell him his arms are too muscly and less comfortable than your pillows. 

-In the mornings he stores the extra pillows under the bed or on the seats to make everything look neat because you DON'T no matter how much HE TELLS YOU.  

-In the warm summer months when shit is hot as hell you will forgo it because who needs them when you have the equivalent of “cold pillow side” all night! 

-It makes him feel like he’s the little spoon, which he doesn’t appreciate, and you get really sweaty at around 4am, which he appreciates even less, but it’s very grounding and the pressure makes it easy to sleep 

-He always wakes up really disoriented and mistakes you for the blanket (read: almost tosses you off the bed as he gets up)

 Johnny Cage

-This is equivalent to letting your dog sleep at the foot of the bed (except let's be real you’ve probably done something similar to him) 

-Thinks its super cute when he comes into the room after his shower and sees you all comfy and snuggled up, expecting you to reach for him all sleepy once he gets under the covers

-And when I tell you it hurts his pride like nothing else, when you turn around to get into a better position

-Babe i'm RIGHT here (gets a bolster thrown at his head)

-Out of spite he’ll copy you and sleep with the bolster instead of holding you, and immediately gets the appeal

-Because yes he loves you dearly, but he can’t exactly fold you three times to fit under his bad knee (as much as he wants to)

-As time goes on you both now have more extra pillows, bolsters and djungelskogs than you know what to do with.

-(you two both have one except he weighs like a brick shit ton so his is extremely disfigured and looks like a sack)

-He thinks you look really hot when you lay on your side cuddling all the pillows

-You’ll just be watching TV and he’s got the googly eyes ok calm down buddy not while you’re wearing the muumuu…

Syzoth

-Thinks you are building a nest because there is no other reason someone needs five pillows and two throw blankets

-Though this is coming from a man who spent most of his life sleeping on the cobblestone floor 

-Over the next few weeks he comes back to you with an assortment of sort fluffy…things

-You don’t have the heart to ask why he’s suddenly showering you with gifts, initially thinking it’s good nature but hey ok there’s a limit to your patience AND space on this bed. 

-The teddy bears are adorable, but spa…towels? Does he know what a spa is? You have more questions than answers.

-Every time you thank him he gets quietly excited since he thinks this is confirmation that you are nesting and possibly want to start a family with him

-Doesn’t actually mind the part with you not cuddling with him as often, he usually just lightly holds your hand or big spoons you 

-The day you actually ask him about it, and eventually have to break the news that no you are not nesting and that it’s just for your comfort, he deflates like a balloon

-Bless his heart you spend the rest of the day begging for forgiveness and clinging onto him like a koala explaining your side

-“Does that mean… you are uncomfortable with me?” NO IT’S JUST SECOND NATURE SYZOTH!! LIKE WHEN YOU WANT TO BASK ON A ROCK!! SECOND NATURE!

-He looks at you pointedly. Just because he’s zaterran doesn’t mean he’s going to behave like an iguana…. Not the zaterran discrimination…

-You compromise using him in replacement, and grow to enjoy the feeling of your new pillows occasionally squirming under your iron death grip.

Tomas Vrbada

-Will cheerfully use his herculean strength to just wriggle through your grip so you hold him and not the pillows. 

-Wiggles up like a snake coming out a pot until he can wrangle his arms above yours and hug you

-Just starts telling you about his day like its a normal conversation while you lay there completely stunlocked 

-It’s also just a reminder that as sweet and kind your partner is, he is also insanely strong and is just careful to be soft with you 

-If you’re both laying in bed and you prefer to cuddle up with pillows he’ll just stare at you with the saddest, wettest boba eyes using his curled up forearm as a pillow 

-And since you are merely a mortal man you relent and cling onto him instead

-At the same time he likes when you rest your head on his chest and hold onto a bolster, a perfect combination of not overheating and physical touch

-Biggest flaw is that he tends to spook you with how quietly he enters the room, so more often than not he is getting PELTED by that soft Egyptian cotton pillow at light speeds

-He’ll catch it 80% of the time and laugh, the other 20% he’s equally scared and the thing takes him down like it’s Sisyphus’ boulder and he’s the hill

[psychemochanight]

That lovely fan mini comic made me think-

Headcanon time ✨

Dick definitely doesn't cry often, not even as a child.

However, being a crime-fighting kid has its perks, such as making criminals let their guard down with him, especially being so small.

So, Batman and him definitely take advantage of this. How? Easy: crocodile tears. A few fake tears, nothing difficult for an performer like him.

But one day, it just happens.

Dick is hurt, it definitely doesn't hurt much, much less with his high pain tolerance... In any case, it was more out of surprise that he remained silent, he didn't expect to be hit like that.

Suddenly, he becomes overly aware of his surroundings. It's colder now because he's been sweating, and the cold air becomes more apparent, his clothes are dirty from the fight, it itches. He's tired, it's later than usual, so it actually becomes too obvious to him that he's sleepy. In the morning he got up early because he didn't know he was going to patrol that day, and there were more sudden changes all the time.

It's cold, the warehouse lights keep flickering, there's a lot of noise.

And now he's hurt. He's bleeding, not too much, but he can feel the blood running on his skin.

He is genuinely overstimulated.

And he cries.

Suddenly, everything stops, the fight slows down because no one, literally no one was expecting that.

It's not your usual fake whining that fools everyone, sure, but this is just different.

Dick is crying for real, and he doesn't even think when he shouts "DAD".

And Dick has never called Batman "Dad" before.

Everyone knows they're just screwed, pretty bad.

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — loss of my life | charles leclerc

Description: You're the biggest superstar in the world. You break up with your longterm boyfriend. It's lonely at the top.

Pairing: singer!reader/charles leclerc

yourname: the love of my life. ❤️ @charles_leclerc

liked by 2,391,039 others

>comments

charles_leclerc: ❤️

yournameuniverse: ok drop the album its been 3 yrs

BirdsofAFeather: OMG OMG SHE'S A SINGER, HE'S A RACECAR DRIVER IT'S A WATTPAD BOOK.

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yourname: short n' sweet is out now 🍭

this feels really surreal, i kind of had to unlearn myself and learn myself again in order to make this album. it's the one i'm most proud of thus far in my life. it's the one i hope you listen to and feel like we were hanging and confiding in each other for an hour. me and the mic were like this the whoole time 🤞🏻 i never thought i would finish it because it was really scary to close the chapter. but i closed it so you can open it! and i hope you do. i hope you love it.

rant over now please stream this shit a lot if you don't mind, it took me years to make lol.

liked by charles_leclerc and 4,698,349 others

>comments

charles_leclerc: ❤️

jaylahespy: crying real tears

ynlnnation: WE'RE LOVING IT

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charles_leclerc: Happy 7th! @yourname

liked by 231,382 others

>comments

yourname: Happy 7th lovey! ❤️🥺

charlesuniverse: THE PERFECT COUPLE

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(MONACO, 2023)

You felt like Elvis Presley. Singing in sold-out arenas and having millions of fans that would constantly stream your songs. It was exhilarating. It was a different type of high. Being famous was 100x better than narcotics, because it gave you money.

Money that afforded lazy days like this.

Both sides of your pillow remained cold. The air-conditioning was in optimal condition. Charles' warm arms were wrapped around you, caging you in his warm embrace. "What time are we gonna get up?" you asked with a chuckle, seeing that his eyes remained closed.

"Brunch," he mumbled weakly - fighting against the sleepiness. "- now let's please get back to sleep." he pleaded, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist. A small giggle escapes your mouth.

"Okay, Mr. Leclerc."

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yourname: liverpool you're the apple of my eye ❤️🥺 thank you for being such a wonderful crowd!!

liked by 2,128,192 others

>comments

YourNameWorld: I LOVE YOU PLEASE NOTICE ME

allatflipflops: LIVERPOOL!

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liked by yourname

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yournamenation: Y/N L/N sings Miss American Pie.

liked by 128,392 others

prongsmoony: Oh it's confirmed

Headoverheels: She also liked that twitter post that's speculating over their breakup...💀

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Y/N L/N and CHARLES LECLERC: ALL WE KNOW ABOUT THE BREAKUP SO FAR. by Poppy Corinthia

When Y/N L/N first began dating Formula One racer Charles Leclerc more than seven years ago, the internet was not shocked. The pair first introduced each other as childhood best-friends, both growing up in Monaco, until L/N's eventual leave to NYC.

A love story like theirs did not stay behind closed doors.

Their relationship was first confirmed by an instagram post made by Y/N L/N (which has since been deleted following her karma album) that is captioned "the love of my life" with a picture of her and Charles Leclerc kissing passionately in Turks and Caicos.

This was followed by back-to-back appearances in the racing paddock, as well as Leclerc's attendance in all of L/N's concerts. July 10, 2024 the streak of attendance has been ruined. Leclerc has also not liked any of L/N's post about her Liverpool concert. Y/N L/N also liked a twitter post speculating their breakup.

But what do you think, reader? Is the IT Couple broken up? or are they simply taking a step back on their public appearances?

>comments

valenciaschitt: Yep I think they're over

HollaParker: I refuse to believe it :(

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yourname: Edinburg, you're the one for me! 🥺 thank you for listening to 'loml' for the first time. the song will be released...an hour after this post. loml is really personal to me, but please always choose to be kind and gentle.

liked by 4,213,912 others

>comments

CharlesandY/N: "Please always choose to be kind and gentle" THIS IS DEFINITELY ABOUT CHARLES 😭

charlesuniverse: YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE

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Y/NUniverse: When I remember that Y/N got the breakup text 30mins before her show in Liverpool...

liked by 182 others

comments have been restricted.

[redr0sewrites]

Cuddling with Touya is a must during the winter. He's soo warm

-B3an

🎀A/n: bean. ily. this made me giggle and cackle like a FREAK hes so silly ☹️

🎀Cw: none, just fluff !!!

you are so sosososoos sooooo right !!! Touya is genuinely so cozy to cuddle with, for a multitude of reasons. i headcanon that his hands and limbs are always really cold, but his chest is really warm, so the best way to warm up is to snuggle close. he also loves putting his cold hands under your shirt to warm them up, and just ends up pressing himself as close to you as possible

because of this, he's pretty clingy !! even when he isn't intending to, Touya always ends up gravitating towards you in search of both body heat and comfort. he's definitely very touch starved and is unused to gentle affection, so it takes him a while to let his guard down. probably very much against touching you early on in any sort of relationship with you, but overtime becomes more inclined to touch as he trusts you more

i wouldnt say he's self conscious per se, but he's definitely aware that his rough scars and piercings may make him a bit uncomfortable to hold. even if he swears it doesn't bother him, please reassure him that you don't mind :( it definitely eases some of his apprehension about touching you

i also think he's simply not used to non-violent physical touch as a concept. Touya grew up with Endeavor as a father, and i just don't think he received enough affection in his childhood or adulthood to be comfortable with it, so it definitely takes some time to adjust. obviously this transfers over into cuddling, so he has a hard time asking to cuddle at first. he will probably just act indifferent about it but in reality he desperately wants you to ask him to cuddle so he can say yes,,,

Touya is one of those people who will say that they're cold, and then physically be warm if that makes sense. like he could be shivering and whining about how he's literally freezing.... but then you touch him and he's burning up!!! as we know from his childhood, his body supports freezing temperatures, and so he's better at handling being cold than warm, but it still pisses him off because he's CONSTANTLY cold !!!!

likes when you play with his hair, it makes him really sleepy

also ??? expect him to absolutely melt if you kiss his scars or praise him when he's feeling vulnerable enough to cuddle. there aren't many times where you can see behind his facade, at least at first, but this is the quickest way to do so. as previously mentioned, he's horrendously starved for affection, and really enjoys your praise

no matter your size, Touya prefers having you lay on top of him. it both allows you to rest against his chest and for him to hold you close, which is optimal for both of you, especially at first when he's still getting the feel of physical touch. it allows him to be in control and feel secure, while also giving you the affection you need as well.

another pro of getting to lay on his chest is listening to his heart beat. especially if its post war Touya, he knows that listening to his heartbeat and knowing that he's still alive and still here is reassuring to you. this also helps him as he gets nightmares or night terrors a lot, and just listening to your breathing and knowing your safe and staying with him helps calm him down.

this is another personal headcanon, but i think once he trusts you enough, Touya would secretly prefer to be the little spoon rather than the big spoon. he really wants to be held, and like i said, likes when you play with his hair, but most of all... neck kisses. he adores them. you press a sweet little kiss to the back of his neck while cuddling?? boom he's yours forever

he does enjoy holding you though, and i feel like he'd tap your body or rub little messages into your skin subconsciously. maybe i'm just projecting my own neurodivergent stims onto him, but i truly think he's also neurodivergent in some way and would be super touchy in the sense that he'd tap out little patterns on your skin, rub his name onto you as he holds you, stuff like that. most of the time he doesn't even realize, he just needs something to do with his hands. definitely rubs your hand with his thumb while holding hands too,,,

huge fan of pda- Touya wants everyone to know that your together. when your cold in public, he literally just slides a hand under your shirt or skirt or anything he can reach, and warms you up with his quirk. to onlookers it looks more risqué then it actually is, but that's the best part in his eyes

Touya isnt a very deep sleeper, he has nightmares and night terrors a lot and overall it takes him a while to fall asleep. when it's chilly out this is especially amplified as he CANNOT sleep when its cold, so he loves sleeping and cuddling with you because A) it warms him up and B) it soothes his anxieties

overall, Touya both loves and hates when your cold. he hates it because he can't stand when your uncomfortable,,, but also loves it because it means he gets to cuddle with you !!!

"why are you so far away?" you grumble, reaching out in search of your lover. Touya lets out a disgruntled whine as an arm snakes around his waist, pulling him up against your body. his tension involuntarily melts as you brush away the small hairs at the base of his neck, before pressing a small kiss to the now exposed skin and watching his ears redden.

"you're so cold... s'too cold. must've pulled away in my sleep. 'sorry babe." he mumbles, and you let out a giggle at his sleepy tone.

"s'ok Touya. y'know, i have to get up soon.."

he immediately perks up, squirming in your grasp until he's facing you, before wrapping is arms around your waist and burying his head in your hair.

"no. it's too cold to even go out."

"Touyaa!"

"stay here. we have to make up for lost time, since i didn't get to lay with you as much.. besides, missing one day of work/school isn't that bad, right?" a scarred hand creeps under your sleep shirt to caress your chilled skin.

"besides," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple as he speaks, "you deserve the rest."

☹️

maybe this is ooc but idc i love him sooo much AND im picturing postwar!Touya so,,,, shh. pls send in more Touya asks. hes so silly.

[icanseethefuture333]

How your voice sounds like & how you talk according to your 2nd & 3rd house 🗣:

Aries in the 2nd house & Taurus in the 3rd House:

Aries 2nd house people usually have a very husky/raspy voice and can talk pretty fast when they're excited or angry. Although, their Taurus in the 3rd house can make them more soft spoken in everyday life. If you get on their good side they will be sweet to you but if you piss them off they won't hestitate to drag you. They can be slick with their words. They are the type to be sneaky with their jokes and tease you without you even noticing till later what they said 💀 (Michael Jackson has this placement and everyone thinks he was so sweet but would literally sing 50 Cent in his car, cuss words and all lmao 😂)

Taurus in the 2nd house & Gemini in the 3rd house:

I know this sounds weird but Taurus 2nd house people talk more with their throat. Their voice sounds either very throaty or very nasally (I mean come on now - Shakira, Rihanna, G-Eazy, Cardi B, Heath Ledger, Stevie Nicks, AND Andrew Garfield. The proof is in the pudding). Their tone of voice is very unique but it's also attractive? They cound sound a little bit like they have a cold, its cute. If they are singers they use a lot of vibratto (don't worry I'll do a post on this too 🙄). Gemini in the 3rd house people could be very expressive with their faces when they talk and show a duality. They could also talk with different accents depending on who they are with.

Gemini in the 2nd house & Cancer in the 3rd house:

These people are very chatty around those they feel comfortable with. If they have a lot of air or fire in their birth chart they are friendly and love to socialize. If there is more earth and water they are shy but like to converse with whoever they are close to. Gemini 2nd house people tend to speak with a vocal fry. They could be emotional speakers as well with their Cancer in the 3rd house or they are good at making people feel heard during a conversation.

Cancer in the 2nd house & Leo in the 3rd house:

Their voices sound as if they're sleepy. Cancer 2nd house people's voices sound soft and airy. With a Leo in the 3rd house, they put some bass in their voice when they yell or get mad. Similar to a cat, they might be chill at first, and pur and meow, but if you piss them off they'll roar. They are very passionate and could choke up a bit or cry if they talk about a sensitive subject.

Leo in the 2nd house & Virgo in the 3rd house:

Leo 2nd house people growl as they talk, sing, or rap. Might even clear their throat before speaking. Could have some health problems with their throat or nose. They have the tendency to be congested. Virgo in the 3rd house could make them sound like a nerd when they talk about their interests 🤓

Virgo in the 2nd house & Libra in the 3rd house:

Virgo 2nd house people have very thin voices and typically sound high pitched, it's like their voices sound like it's struggling to come out (if their is voice is deeper it will sound gravely like Tyler, The Creator). They could require voice lessons or speech therapy at some point in their life. Possibly has social anxiety. Has or could develop a lisp. Talented when it comes to using their voice for entertainment like voice acting, reporting, speeches, singing, rapping, etc. (Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn or Eddie Murphy as Mushu and Donkey). With their Libra in the 3rd house they could have a way with words. They could be very charming when they speak and like to flirt. Might even turn on the charm to get what they want (I'm guilty of this).

Libra in the 2rd house & Scorpio in the 3rd house:

There is two spectrums with these people. On one hand their voices are very attractive and the way they speak can be sensual... or they can be vulgar and/or hilarious (1. Ice Spice, Michael B. Jordan, Usher, Lauren Jauregui, Keanu Reeves, Meagan Good, & Idris Elba 2. Dave Chapelle, Will Ferrell, Tom Hanks, Kevin Hart, & Ryan Reynolds 3. Dolly Parton & Childish Gambino are both great at singing and know how to do comedy). They are great at entertaining a crowd and could be the host at parties. They know how to make people laugh and blush, it's their way of seducing.

Scorpio in the 2nd house & Sagittarius in the 3rd house:

This combination can cause them to be poetic and philosophical. They are great when it comes it expressing their inner most personal thoughts. When angered, they will let you let you feel their wraith (I mean have you heard Beyoncé on her Lemonade album or Doja Cat on her lives? Lmao they do not fuck around). Their language is very blunt and they cuss a lot (Britney Spears: "Holy shitballs!" 😃 *starts spinning*). Scorpio 2nd house people voices are clear and deep (yes, like the ocean) but if they are around someone they talk in a baby voice. It's so funny too it's like they're usually this badass but then out of nowhere there's this silly high pitched voice 😭 (Kendrick Lamar: "put the pussy on a pedestal ~ put the pussy on a high stool ~ that pussy to die for, yeah that pussy to DIE for ~🎵") Honestly they're just crazy lmao

Sagittarius in the 2nd house & Capricorn in the 3rd house:

These people are SHADYYY. They love to throw shade (Prince) or air out people's dirty laundry if you do them wrong (Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, & Halsey have some of their biggest songs about their exes lol). These people are petty as hell! Sagittarius 2nd house can also give good advice and with their Capricorn in the 3rd house, they have a lot of wisdom to share. A teacher to those around. They will also tell you things about themselves but know not to overshare. They like to have the upperhand in a conversation and keep their next move a secret. They tend to speak "as a matter of factually" and come off as having a careless attitude if they smile. A lot of them speak with a similar tone as well (Anne Hathaway, Jada Pinkett Smith, Mila Kunis, Scarlett Johansson, Winona Ryder, and Kim Kardashian don't have the same voice but their Capricorn tone and Aquarius speech pattern is obvious to me). The men can seem very cool and relaxed, almost the bad boy type (Justin Bieber, Brad Pitt, Nicolas Cage, Eminem, & Elvis Presley).

Capricorn in the 2nd house and Aquarius in the 3rd:

These people are eccentric and are unique. They like to have a persona so they can keep their personal lives private. Their voices sound a bit quirky (I remember watching a interview with Adriana Lima and a lot of people were surprised to hear how she actually sounded).

Aquarius in the 2nd house and Pisces in the 3rd:

These people sound so cute imo??? Jimin from BTS, Ariana Grande, Zac Efron, Ashanti, & Jordin Sparks all have this placement and their voice is so soft like a cloud. Their sense of humor is weird and silly. They are quiet in comparison to others and are probably told often to speak louder. Or they could be slow talkers. Overall just really mellow people lol

Pisces in the 2nd house and Aries in the 3rd house:

These people are motivational speakers (Barack Obama) and are often being quoted for their iconic sayings (Nicki Minaj, Naomi Campbell, Zendaya, & Alicia Silverstone). They know how to connect to people and they are passionate when it comes to helping others. Most likely will be the person to stand up to a bully and defend the person being picked on. Pisces is caring while Aries is bold yet impulsive. These people need to practice "thinking before speaking" because it has a greater affect on not just themself but those around them.

[seoliee]

LAD Men as Cats

Here again to serve pure fluffiness. I love cats and I love LAD Men. So, I thought, why don't I try to mix the two together and here we are.

Kind of weird to make my precious fishy; Rafayel into a cat though because he absolutely hates them.

Oh and no, Caleb in this one. I might make a separate one for him though like I did last time. I'LL STOP NOW SORRY.

What if they're your pet cats?

Word Count: 1.5k words

— RAFAYEL : Grey Birman

• Rafayel was a birthday gift from your best friend. You were immediately pulled in by his mesmerizing eyes that seemed to shine and bore deep within you. The first time you took him into your arms, he looks up at you with a guarded gaze followed up with a low growl.

• It didn't take long for Rafayel to get used to you and his new surroundings, his bursts of energy zooming all over the place that you sometimes can't keep up with him.

• Being an office worker and situated to work from home. You're always confined in your study and in front of a computer often leaving Rafayel on his own company.

• There was a time that you were in a zoom call with your bosses when Rafayel leaps up on your computer desk. He meows softly, trying to get your attention but you were far too focused on your work. He rubs the side of his face on your hand that rests on top of the mouse, and you returned the gesture by petting his cheek in which he purrs at.

• Rafayel walks in front of you, blocking your vision with his built and his fluffy fur as his long puffy tail glides under your chin in the playful manner. You excused yourself from the call and places him down. "Not now, Rafayel. Be patient." You gave him a quick pet before returning to your call.

• Being a very affectionate and somewhat mischievous cat. Rafayel wouldn't let that slide. He leaps up on top of a drawer where one of your mini ornaments were located, eyeing one of them. He heard you calling him, mouthing words that says 'Don't think about it.' So now you finally gave him the attention he wants. His paw gently hits the ornament off of the drawer as it fell down on the carpet flooring and he scurries away.

• After the call ended. You went to pick up the fallen ornament and much to your relief it wasn't broken. When you went downstairs, you saw Rafayel perched down on the armrest of your couch, his eyes on you. He jumped off, running up to you and rubbing himself and subtly wrapping his tail around your legs while purring. Acting as if nothing happened.

• You sigh, picking him up into your arms. You can't stay mad at him. "You're a very naughty kitty, y'know that?" You pull him into your arms, hugging him as he leans into your touch. "But it's part of your charm." Though, you still have to reprimand his actions by not giving him any treats in the next few days.

— XAVIER : White Turkish Angora

• You arrived home from work only to see a puff of white ball on your porch. You slowly got closer, realizing it's a cat curled into a ball and sleeping. You crouched down to take a closer look.

• The cat wakes up, stretching its limps then looking up at you with narrowed sleepy eyes, blinking slowly. You were sure it would scurry away, but it didn't even moved an inch from its spot.

• You reached your hand out to it, waiting for it to do something, but it only watches as your hand gets closer, letting you scratch the side of its head and leaning into your hand which melted your heart immediately. The cat got up on its four legs, and goes to rub against you. There you noticed it doesn't have a collar on. You obviously can't leave it to fend for itself out in the coldness of the night so you did the most reasonable thing and let it inside. The cat immediately went over to your couch, finding a good spot and going back to sleep. It's as if it already owns your place, you think.

• The next morning. You visit the local veterinary clinic to get the cat checked. There, you found out it's a male cat. You made eye contact with him, silently apologizing for calling him a 'she' last night. The vet also said he doesn't have a microchip on him, but is a very healthy cat, adding that he's also very friendly and calm.

• Once both of you are home. You took decent pictures of him, deciding to make posters and spread it around the neighborhood in case he has a family. After all, he might've had a collar, but lost it somewhere. You heard a low meowing sound, switching your gaze down and there he is looking up at you expectedly. "You're hungry, aren't you?" You chuckled, going into the kitchen and him following you. You open the cupboard, taking out a can of wet catfood and transferring its contents on his bowl afterwards setting it down, allowing him to eat. You decide to keep him until his owners claim him. If nobody comes for him in a month, you're going to keep him.

• The next days were quite eventful. You came home to him waiting for you by the door, greeting you with a very happy meow which dissipates all your fatigue away. Ever since having him, you no longer felt lonely and you always looked forward to coming home. He always slept next to you, and wakes up at the same time as you. He practically follows you everywhere in the house which you found adorable and endearing.

• You sat down on your couch with him laying comfortably on your lap as you pet his fur. Instead of watching whatever is on the television, your eyes are on him. A thought came into your mind, and that's naming him. But, you quickly tossed the thought away as naming him would only make you more attached to him and by then, letting him go would hurt you than it should've. Your chest felt tight at the thought of losing his companionship. It may sound selfish, but you silently prayed that nobody would come to claim him.

• One day, you came home from work and as usual he's there at the door step waiting for her like he always does. You pick him up into your arms, then setting him down on the couch and kneeling in front of him. You open your bag to take something out and reaches your hands to the back of his head. You retreat your hands away, letting the light tag rest on his neck and engraved with the name 'Xavier'.

• Indeed, a month has already passed and thankfully, nobody came. "Xavier. Do you like that name?" As if responding to her. Xavier goes up to you and gently licked your chin, you melt and nuzzles against him which he reciprocates with a loud purr. You will no longer feel lonely with Xavier around.

— ZAYNE : Black Persian

• Zayne was given to you by your cousin who told you she couldn't keep him anymore because him and her other male cat kept attacking each other. You, on the other hand have no qualms on adopting him. The thought of having a non-human companion is better than having an actual human.

• Zayne is a very quiet and aloof cat. Very quiet. At first, you thought that all cats are like him, but you watched a few cat videos where some of them would act like him, but have random bursts of energy at times and are playful. Zayne on the other hand, you looked at him at the other end of the couch, he seemed to mind his own business and is very cold.

• You tried to play with the toy stick with a mouse attached on the end only for him to ignore you completely. He didn't even spared you a single glance. You never thought there will be a time where your heart was broken by a cat. From that moment, you made a vow to yourself that you would make him love you.

• You started by inching closer, petting his head. At first, he moved away from your hand and ran off. But, you didn't stop and kept on trying until he would only flinch for a bit, but never run away. Though, he never purred.

• Then one day, you came home later than usual from work. To your surprise, you saw Zayne by the porch of your front door, as if waiting for you. You took him into your arms, snuggling him close. "You must've been worried. I'm sorry." Once they're inside, he jumped out of your arms and went back to his usual self. You only chuckled, this is the most affection you can get from him and you won't complain anymore.

• The next morning. You slowly opened your eyes, expecting to see what she always sees in the morning, but a tuff of black fur blocks your vision. Your heart warms and melts. This is the first time Zayne has slept on your bed and right next to you. Most importantly, he's purring. Your hand moves on its own and gently pets his head, he slightly opens his eyes, his gaze on you for a bit and went back to sleep, purring even louder.

Writing is very therapeutic to me. I can freely write down my ideas and let them unfold.

Thank you for reading until the end.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 40

part 1 | part 39 | ao3

They're lying on their backs, Steve's head on Eddie's shoulder, Eddie running absent-minded fingers through Steve's hair. Led Zeppelin plays on low from the radio beside them, and the conversation ebbs and flows in sleepy bursts of disjointed thought. Talking just to talk. Because they like it; because they can.

"...Did you see Wheeler almost eat shit in the paint aisle this morning?"

"We should paint some stars on my ceiling. Make 'em glow in the dark..."

"God, what I would not give for more pizza."

"Who even eats cold pizza?"

Eddie shifts beneath him after a while, sitting up to bounce his legs and get the blood flowing again. With his weight leaned back on his hands, Steve can't help but notice the long line of his torso. Everything on display through the thin undershirt: the smattering of dark ink, the outline of his ribs, the cut of his slim waist. Steve wants to touch him.

"You know," Eddie says, surveying the empty room, the vinyl glinting in the lamp light, "it's really not half bad for a bunch of kids who thought they were gonna be hanging ornaments all day." He knocks his knee against Steve's leg. "I'd say you're well on your way to making this mobile house a mobile home."

Steve snorts at that, and Eddie pinches playfully at his side until the snort turns into a really undignified laugh and Steve rolls in on himself, curling toward Eddie, begging for mercy.

"You want to tell me what brought all this on?" Eddie asks. His voice is quiet and welcoming, eyes sparkling with some gentle offer of reprieve. The first rest stop sign after a hundred mile stretch of empty road.

Steve's mouth works; opens and closes and opens again, like it'll prompt his voice to sound or his brain to figure out the words. He still doesn't know how to explain — the fear, the paranoia, the way this place was starting to cling to him like black mold. "Just..." he shrugs. "Needed it, I guess."

Eddie gives him a long look. Unwavering and piercing; there's more pus in the wound that he's trying to lance, but he doesn't seem interested in drawing blood tonight.

He releases Steve from his gaze and goes back to his casual stretching — rolling his neck, popping his shoulders, shaking out his legs, his ankles, his feet — and then he gasps "Steve!" in a delighted tone that Steve does not care for at all. Usually means he’s about to get teased within an inch of his life.

"Hmm?" Steve lifts his head to look.

Eddie’s wiggling his right foot, drawing attention to the outer edge of his borrowed sock. "Is that a hole I see?"

Steve follows his line of sight, and sure enough, there's the smallest little tear by Eddie's pinky toe. “Oh, fuck off,” Steve rolls his eyes, “you can barely even see that.”

Eddie spreads his toes out wide, making the hole more obvious. "My, my, my,” he tuts, shaking his head with a big, disappointed sigh.

"You're such an asshole,” Steve mutters. Eddie's beaming; Steve flips him off.

"Well congrats, baby boy,” he drawls like a fucking pest, “now you're officially trailer trash."

"Hey!" Steve’s not sure if he likes that. Makes him blush to his ears; makes something sour roll in his gut.

Unfortunately it also kind of makes his dick twitch.

"Oh?" Eddie leers. His eyes dart to Steve's crotch, and then he shifts so he's hovering over Steve with Steve flat on his back, face on fire, pulse kicking hard. A vein throbs in his inner thigh. "Don't worry, Stevie." Eddie bends to nip at his jaw. "I meant it as a compliment."

"How is that a compliment?" Steve wants to sound annoyed. Is annoyed. But Eddie's skimming a light hand up his side, barest pressure that leaves a trail of tingling warmth in its wake, so the words come out more breathy than he intends.

"Because," Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his smile pressed against his skin. Eddie kisses up his jawline until he reaches his ear; mouths at the lobe and sucks it between his teeth, a sharp bite that makes Steve hiss. "All my favorite things are."

Steve bucks under him. "Trash?" he asks, breath catching.

Eddie's tongue traces his ear. "Mhmm."

His hand wanders to the hem of Steve's shirt, worming his fingers underneath, tickling the trail of hair below Steve’s belly button as he explains that all his favorite things are second-hand. Recycled and discarded items he’s restored with loving care.

Steve’s breath goes harsh and ragged, and he tries not to think about how that might apply to him.

Discarded.

Restored.

Favorite.

Maybe even—

He can’t let himself think the word.

—

part 41!

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[itsabouttimex2]

Inky Clutches

“You were good today, weren’t you?”

The world suddenly snaps back to color, leaving you dazed and unsteady- just seconds ago you had been on the verge of the sleep, and now-

“Someone’s a tired little bug, aren’t they?” The curse’s hand prods and pokes at your cheek to trail a cold string of ink across it, prompting you to squeak and squirm away to escape the freezing touch.

“Stop stop stop!” You squeal in mild distress, writhing under your covers and scooting your back to the wooden bedrest. “Baba, stop!”

“My poor little Squiggle,” it lowly chuckles, pulling away the bedsheets. “Always so sleepy, aren’t you?” There’s always a strange note of warmth under their condescending tone, striking in its sincerity.

“I… I hadn’t meant to fall asleep,” you admit, looking away with a frown. “But you had been gone for so long…”

“Ahahahaha! What a cute pouty face! C’mon, drop that pout… be a good little ward and smile already,” it laughs, one hand pressing harshly down on your head, mussing your hair.

The curse is hardly apologetic for their lateness. But then, the Ink Curse never apologizes. They're cruel and wicked, only caring for how much misery they can spread to anyone caught inside this cursed scroll-

Except for you, that is.

It’s almost strange how doting the abomination can be, almost affectionate- though it’s unclear how much they actually care for you, given the frequent switching between treating you like their own child and treating you like a clingy little pet.

"I was busy,” it sighs, shifting to stand a good few feet taller than you. “You’re a big kid now, Y/N. You can look after yourself, can’t you?" The blobbish thing lightly scolds, as it reaches out to pat your head in a half-assed attempt to be comforting.

“But… if you want to act like a little baby, fine.”

You’re far too used to their antics by now. The constant taunting and belittling that comes naturally with the Ink Curse, the nicknames they call you- ‘Squiggle’ and ‘Inkblot’ are two of their gentler ones- it’s nothing new. But shows of physical affection are just rare enough to get you excited, prompting you to spring off the bed and reach out to be held.

The ink homunculus scoops you up with a huff, holding you close to their chest.

“…you’ve grown, Squiggle.”

It’s a quiet and sudden confession, as the curse buries their face against your shoulder with a sigh. For a change, you can’t hear the usual barely-restrained mockery. The teasing. The taunting.

The sort of thing it relishes in delivering to all the lost souls trapped in the confines of the cursed scroll.

But for you? There’s only a quiet grumble as cold arms wrap around you with an odd kind of gentleness in their grip.

“When did you get so tall?” They murmur against your hair, their voice a low grumble, but lacking all of the usual mockery.

But even in a moment as soft as this, there’s still a hint of condescension in their voice. The curse lets out another sigh, softer this time, and it pulls away to themselves, tilting your head from side to side as it studies you.

For an artificial being made entirely of ink and spite, the look in their eyes is downright warm.

“You were so small when we first met…”

Back when you first entered the scroll, you had been barely a toddler, not even old enough to speak in anything more than gurgles. Too young to have been counted as a “sinner”, the Ink Curse had instead taken you under it’s wing as a potential “heir” to one day assist it in punishing all those caught in the hellish recesses of this twisted artifact.

And in the years that had come and pass, you had grown in more ways than one. You’d grown older. Stronger. More self-reliant. You’d learned to read and write. Learned to control yourself, and in many ways, learned to control the ink hellscape around you.

…and the thought of you growing leads the Ink Curse to wonder if one day you’ll grow to long for a world you had been cast away from.

“Soon you'll be all grown up and leaving me behind, hm?"A clawed finger pokes your cheek, squishing the softness of your skin as it tips up your chin. “You'll forget all about old Inky, won't you? Find yourself a new Baba?"

“…you ask me this too much, Baba. You know that I can’t leave.”

“And yet, one day you will.” The curse bluntly retorts, expression turning cold in a flash.“One day you’ll grow up big and strong, and you’ll find your way back to the real world… and forget all about me.”

They play this “game” frequently- making you comfort them by insinuating that they have some deep-seated fear of you magically finding a way to escape this divine scroll of punishment.

“You’ll leave, and all those memories, all the things we shared together…”

As had come to be a norm, they were playing up the part of the overly-attached parent, and they were doing it well, voice growing just shaky enough to sound vulnerable, even managing to drop their smug smile for a minute.

“…you’ll forget all about them, and then all about me.”

“I- I would never! Baba, how could you say that I would-“

The curse is immediately flooded with a strange sense of satisfaction at your sudden and utterly panicked reaction, forcing down a gleeful grin.

“How could I say it?” They echo, suddenly growing colder in tone and slower in cadence. “Because you will. That’s how little children are- they grow up, and they forget all the things they once loved so dearly.”

“And I will be one of those things.”

The Ink Curse’s voice drops to a murmur as it continues, their cyan gaze locked on you. And even though you know by now that they’re just playing this cruel “game” once again, their words manage to send a chill down your spine.

“And you’ll forget my voice. Forget my face. Forget my love. You’ll forget everything about me. And then I’ll be nothing more than a little shadowy blob in the darkest corners of your mind.

As usual, tears bead up in your eyes at these harsh accusations, feeling shamed that your guardian would still believe you to have so little faith in them.

The abomination stares down at you as you begin to cry, a wicked sense of pleasure shooting through their pitch veins at the sight of your tears.

As cruel as it seems, the Ink Curse loves nothing more than putting your loyalty to the test- they love finding ways to make you reassure them time and time again that you won’t ever abandon them. And though they know that you’ll never do such a thing, they love to hear you say it over and over.

After all, it’s “just a game”. A little “make sure you still love me” test. Maybe you’re too empathetic. Too sensitive. Too naive.

You’re something that it counts as “frail”, though it wouldn’t be able to put a name to the trait.

And the curse uses that “weakness” frequently. Playing up how they “know” you will easily forget them, how you’re going to grow up and leave them in the dust, how you’ll eventually be consumed with the desire to escape from the hellish scroll and the “affectionate” curse within.

And you’ve never once failed to fall for it. Just as they had hoped. Each and every time, their plan has worked flawlessly.

This time, of course, is no different. You’re blinking back tears, on the verge of breaking down entirely, and the curse revels in every moment of it- the rush of power and joy that comes with the knowledge that you actually care about them.

That someone cares about them.

“Oh, my poor Squiggle… do you want me to take you to the swings again?”

The words are enough to make you jerk slightly, head lifting to stare at the curse with wet and wide eyes. It’s almost funny, how even in a moment as vulnerable as this, you’re still so eager and quick to respond to their hints of affection.

You had basically grown up in that little corner of the scroll, a little slice of history containing a quiet park, set on a cozy afternoon. Being “good” earned you visits there, a break from the monotony of traveling through the scroll and waiting for your guardian to finish punishing “sinners” as it found them before moving to the next section.

To be offered that trip again…

“Do you want a little break from all the heavy thinking?” It continues, shifting to hold you a little tighter. “A little break from being such a big, tough kid?”

(Kid. Are you a kid? You were at a stage between infant and toddler when you came, and it had been… how many years since then? How old were you?)

The curse watches carefully as you consider the offer. The promise of being taken outside for something as childish as a little swing session. It's a bribe like usual- a promise of something sweet in exchange for a little more manipulation of your emotions.

But they know how much you love the little park memory they set aside for you in the center of their little hell. And they know how effective it is at soothing your mood.

“…we can really… we’ll actually go back to that memory? Like we used to?”

The curse grins again, all traces of fake vulnerability gone from their expression. The tone of their voice is once again condescending, smug, and laced with a hint of mockery.

“Of course we can, Y/N. We’ll take a little trip to our old grounds, and I’ll try to forget all that cruel nonsense you were spouting.”

With a rictus grin, the ink demon offers you their pitch hand.

And, as always, you accept it.

[tinycozycomfort]

i found the door

pairing: jackson era!joel miller x f!reader

day seven of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: edging -> read her day seven here

summary: Joel is a beacon, the warmth sloughing off his chest keeping you in that hazy place between tired and restless—the brightest slice of your vision.

warnings/tags: edging, daddy kink, c*ckwarming, touch of somno, unprotected piv, age gap (joel is 50s, reader is not), dom/sub dynamics, the tone of this is: they're in love, bulge kink, name calling (slut) + pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc)

word count: 1.8k

rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni

a/n: i am so hashtag nervous about this one but very big thank you to @pascalisbaby for encouraging me and listening to me complain every day 🖤

main masterlist

“What is she, sweetheart? What do we call her when she’s drooling like that?” 

Joel noses at your chin, puffy stripe of scarring across the bridge dragging colder than the rest, lifting a field of goosebumps in its wake.

You can barely mumble at first, the swipe of his thumbs along your ribcage doing little to ground you, focus washed out with the low light that pools in from the window. His hands are firm—even in their spread—pinkies dipping into the crease of your side as he keeps you seated atop him, sweat-damp sheets taut where they weave between the folds of your knees. 

You’re pliable over him, hiked up and lopsided where he’s fixed you high in his lap, the shape of his cock outlined inside you to the hilt. 

Nights like this—right before the onslaught of Wyoming winter—he likes to just let the time pass, to make use of his body while it’s still skin-warm, no cold to slow his joints or frost to stiffen his muscle. He wants to prove himself capable, spry, even in his climbing age, to make sure you both know how in control he still is of this vessel, of your pleasure. 

He does it in the slowest way—the only way he sees appropriate—unwrapping you in pieces, biting away at the minutes like they’re endless, peeling away at the doubts he only thinks you have for him. 

Joel is a beacon, the warmth sloughing off his chest keeping you in that hazy place between tired and restless—the brightest slice of your vision. The valleys of his hollowed cheeks are deep, his restraint bound there in the tense sinew between his molars.

Only when he feels you deflate does he rock up gently, nudging at the apex of your womb, never touching—just the suggestion of what he’s able to find within you. He lets you whine and plead until you’re at the steep slope of your orgasm before stopping altogether, letting it wane, over and over, the pause to recoup shortening with each near-miss—a loop of ‘almost’s and ‘just-so’s that remind you he can take away as much as he can give.

“Hm?” He’s encouraging as he draws you from your stupor, a lapse in his unkindness—some space for you to right your wrong.

“A slut.”

Joel rolls back on the knob of bone that ends his spine, curling his hips up to give you just the slightest bit of friction. 

“That’s right. Little pussy’s being such a slut for me.” He shifts up again, just a beat to punctuate his point, the squelch that follows sounding out in the silence as if on cue. “Don’t know how you don’t fall all over yourself dripping like that.” 

You’re humming again in response, the last two full words taking more of a toll than they’re worth, voice scratchy from just how much crying you’ve done. The little analog clock on the nightstand ticks, tallying the painfully long stretch that’s passed since he promised to fuck you; that and the hour, maybe—or well over—since he decided he was going to make you wait for it instead. 

He savors this—the chance to make you up like some sleepy, weak thing that he can dote on, that he can thaw between his hands and mold into all of his beloved shapes, syrupy and unwound and enamored. He loves you like this, at his mercy, the heft of his strength and his promise enough to carry you through to the other side of content. 

He needs you like this. 

Joel reaches down to where your middle scrapes the start of his chest, grazing his knuckles over the swell in your lower tummy, rubbing at the wide protrusion that evidences his excitement. He flattens his palm over it like a bandage, uses it as leverage to put some space between you so he can get a better view, carving out more room where he’s hooking into you.

“Look at that. Got me so deep inside you it’s trying to come out. You gonna keep it in for me?” 

You’re nodding before he’s even finished, ready for him to bring you to another barely-peak, shoulders slack so as to not work yourself up, hope strapped to the last notch. 

“Poor thing. Had enough, honey? Ready to beg for it?” 

You huff before thinking, “I have been.” 

“No—crying at me isn’t begging. You have to ask.” 

“Please.” 

“Please…?” 

“Joel, can you pl–” 

He scoops up the meat of your cheeks with his free hand, fingers scalloping the flesh in a tight grip, wedging the points between your teeth until it feels like he’s inside you; he has you by your soul at this point, his hold runs so deep. 

“I know my girl isn’t that dim. How many times have we practiced this, sweetheart? Still can’t get it right on the first try?” 

He’s dead serious—frown severe—but you can’t help the curl of your mouth, laughter bubbling at the base of your throat. What a horrible, mean man he wants to be. In reality, he loves you more than he’s able to say most days, only leaning back on this game of obedience and correction and reward as a crutch when he can’t find the words. 

“Sorry, daddy.” 

Joel angles his fingers back so that he’s hanging onto the hinges of your jaw, the broad U of his middle-to-thumb long enough to give you room to speak and breathe and scream. 

His hips start to cant, the sticky swing of his cock inside you pulsing outwards, a fresh wave of arousal pooling at the joint. 

“There we go. Go ahead with the rest, then.”

“Daddy—fuck, please.” 

His resolve begins to melt at just the mention of his newly-appointed favorite title, a thing that slides between completely earnest and a silly pass at something new, not completely settled into habit. Even so, it’s sticking fast, the sheen over his eyes and abnormal measure of his breathing proof enough. 

“Please, what, sweet girl? You need daddy to make that slut pussy happy? You need to come?” 

Your mouth is wide open, nothing coming out but brief, irregular puffs of air that keep you conscious. He’s enjoying it—hoists his chest up so he can get close to your face, unhinge his own jaw, mock you that much more. He fails to not smile, head bobbing has he continues to fuck up into you with all the effort his body, and this position, are willing to allow. 

The hand pushing into your stomach falls, twisting at the wrist so he can toy with your clit, struggling not to slip in the web of slick that’s yet to dry where you’re connected. He’s determined, though—switches his thumb for the flat section of skin between his last two knuckles, gliding along the bead of skin at your core until you’re slumping forward, unable to take the whole brunt of him at full mast. 

���Oh, honey. Can’t even get fucked right anymore, can you? What’s gonna happen when you can’t take this cock? What do you suppose I do with you, then?” 

“No, daddy. ‘M just tired. Don’t stop, please.”

“Half-awake and the only thing you can think to do is ask for more. Now we’re getting somewhere.” 

“Yes, more, more.” 

“That’s right. Tell daddy how grateful you are. Tell me how much you need it.” 

“Fuck, yes. I need you.”

The fingers on your face pinch harder, throbbing as your cheek contours to the line of your teeth. Joel shakes his wrist, your neck lolling in his clutch as he commands your attention.

“Hey, I let it slide the first time. Don’t use that kind of language with me, girl. Be polite to me for all I do for you.” 

You’re too close to the end to say anything other than sorry, sorry daddy, the pitch rising in time with his movements, the burn of your climax worming its way up your spine. He’s equally as close, descending into the force of his movements so quickly he abandons his half-hearted reprimand, lashes clumping and wet, the line of his brow shining with sweat. He works at your clit with unwavering effort, sliding ten-fold as you begin to meet his thrusts, the two of you fighting to be on-beat in the work-up.

“I’m gonna come. Please. Please, can I?” 

“What am I going to want to hear from you before you do, sweetheart?” He tucks the bow of tissue that separates his thumb to your chin, his longer fingers plucking at some of the hair that's tacked down with wet—another show of sympathy.

“I love you.” 

“How sweet are you, hm—when you want to be? That’s my perfect girl. Just one more time, now.”

“Joel, I love you. More than f—more than anything.” 

He manages a exhale—his best attempt at amusement in this state—at the way you fumble to catch your own error, too close to the edge to afford another mistake. 

You clamp down with both hands on the forearm clutching your face, like more of you on him can better emphasize your statement and he moans, a high, ragged thing that falls out before he can contain it. 

Eventually, he accepts, “I love you, too, honey. More than you know.” 

You’re right at the cusp now, cunt seizing around where he’s driving up into you and he aims to bring you there before he falters, “Come on, let me have it. Show me just how much you love me.“

It's just a slew of yes’s after that, body locking up as the crest of your orgasm washes over you in flashes of white, so intertwined with him you don’t realize he’s made his way there as well, the sear of his release a welcome addition to the flurry. 

He doesn’t stop until your breathing evens, dropping his grip to wind his arms at the small of your back. He envelops you the way he wishes he could have to begin with, with all of the raw affection he needs courage to produce. 

“I mean it. Really.” He thumbs at the bumps of your spine, a swirl of something like guilt threading through his voice. 

You’re quick to dismiss it, dropping your head into the slope of his neck, the chill of September flooding in now that you’ve halted. You bring an arm up, fingers pleating into the hair he’s grown out in preparation for the season—a cut you suspect he’s kept because you’d mentioned taking a liking to it. You shuffle closer, knees slanted inwards to cradle him.

“I know, Joel. I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

[dawnoftime22]

can i get a fluffy taylor request where reader(who is in a established relationship with tay) is bipolar and like- they are starting to hit a depressive phase? its not too bad or serious they're just numb and sleeping a lot and needing comfort and support? its fine if not. just know you're loved, take care of yourself

just be here.

| T.S

Warnings: Numbness / dissociation, R being stuck in bed and sleeping a lot, feeling guilt / small anxiety, more non verbal reassurances than verbal, shower scene with tay; sweet details only

Summary: As an empty day hits you, you end up with lots of sleep, and no productive things done. Taylor gets concerned, but takes loving care of you, with kisses and reassuring touches.

Word Count: 5.8k

Category: fluff, comfort, hurt/comfort (at the beginning if you squint?)

A/N: this isn't really a work of mine I'd say I like because it feels like a mess, but its the best I can do :') starting is a little slow, but it dives into the full comfort in the midday cut if you only want to read that<3

Request A/N: hey, if you're going through this, I understand. just know it won't last forever. I've gotten out of it just recently, it just takes time and care. sit and enjoy the little things for now :] I don't know much about bipolar disorder, but I am familiar with what you described, so this is mostly focused on that part<3 thank you so much for requesting with your lovely words! you're just as loved, if not, more!!

| Started on 08/11/2024, 10:32 AM |

| Finished on 12/11/2024, 12:13 AM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Request Guidelines | Part Two, 'look after you.'

“I'll hold your hand through it.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

The windows only had a dark blue color. Where the curtains were once covering the view of the dusk sky, they had been draped aside by gentle hands.

It was warm, and perfectly cold at the same time. You could feel the covers cozily upon your body. There was some more time to relish it in, right?

Your vision had caught only a glimpse of the blonde, going into the bathroom for perhaps a shower, just before you let yourself surrender to the void of darkness, once more.

When you woke up again, you realize the brighter light shining through the window, white and gleaming instead of the blue dusk color, and you knew what had happened.

You had slept in the day, once again.

A sigh leaves your lips and you reach for your phone by the nightstand, checking the time. It was 9:30 in the morning, where any minutes later, it would have been double digits on the screen.

You slumped into the mattress, your cheek getting squished against the pillow. That was it, your morning routine had fallen down.

There was nearly enough time for you to set your phone back down and close your eyes again, just to avoid even dealing with it all. Nearly. At least, until a gentlefamiliar voice sounds out from behind you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Taylor softly calls from the doorway, her hand going to rest on the doorframe after making her way from the kitchen. She could just barely see you, holding your phone rather than having your arms curled up as earlier, when you were sleeping.

"You're up?" she continued, tilting her head, but her voice questioned her own observations. It wasn't until you soon turned to face her that she could see you were awake. You shifted groggily, staying under the covers and pulling it up to keep yourself warm.

She smiles softly at you as her heart swells, her eyes traveling your sleepy face. You let out a slow breath, blinking drowzily at her, but soon, Taylor gently pushes herself off the doorframe, making her way to you.

"I didn't have the heart to wake you baby, you looked so adorably peaceful," she murmurs, going to crawl into bed to join you. She lays down beside you, gently pulling you closer to snuggle.

"...and cuddly," she adds, getting under the covers too, because it was getting cold, even with just the ceiling fan on.

You stretched your legs under the blanket with your body, eyes closed to then go into her embrace, burying your face into her chest.

Her hand comes into contact with your hair, fingers going through your strands soothingly. She gazes at you, noticing your quietness.

"I made us some breakfast," she whispered, staying in the cuddle for a little while before she shifts her position, her elbow resting on the pillow to prop herself up in a sitting position.

It was quiet for a moment, the fan humming gently in the silence. You wanted to respond, but it felt too early in the morning to even speak.

Taylor didn't mind though. She gently smooths your hair back, her hands being gentle with affection. "Theres eggs and bacon...some cut up apples..." she says slowly, pausing her movement. She could feel you burying your face further into her chest.

"I would ask if you wanna shower first...but the food would go cold," she adds, continuing the motion in your hair and leaning down to lay a soft kiss to your head.

She was about to think that you had fallen asleep, but then she sees you peeking your face out slightly, your cheek against her chest now.

Her lips raise up into the softest smile at the sight of you. "...Ready to get up yet?" she murmurs, seeing the way you haven't moved at all, other than your little head turn.

A yawn passes by your lips, but you let out the quietest protest of an elongated hum, nuzzling back into her. Definitely not because of a shower, and especially not because of the food your lovely girlfriend's told you she's made, but to getting out of bed.

"You're so comfy, huh?" She chuckles, seeing your pout, although there was a slight difference upon it that tugged at her curiosities.

She shifts slightly, trying to move and get up a little more. "Just a few minutes baby...then we can be all warm again, okay?" she says gently.

You melted into her, slumping further into her embrace and nearly holding on. Her eyes soften sympathetically at your stubbornness, but eventually saw the smallest, little nod.

She took that as a sign to get up, and she felt relief flow through her. Although she would have carried you out from bed anyway. Slowly, she untangles herself from you, moving to help you sit up.

She keeps her eyes on you as the both of you got out of bed. Standing up was groggy, but you managed it with her beside you, eventually making your way out the bedroom.

Her cats were hanging around, Olivia by the kitchen, eating out her cat bowl, finishing her food. The other two bowls were empty, Benjamin laying on the carpet while Meredith was probably somewhere in the music room instead of the living area.

You got to the dining table, seeing the plates had your breakfast all ready. The chair gently scrapes the floor, and you sat down, while Taylor went to pour some orange juice into some glasses— one for you and one for her.

When she comes back, you shifted in your seat to get comfortable, then picked up your fork, starting with the apple slices. She places your drinks on the table before she sat down herself.

You took a bite of a slice, and put the rest on your plate. She smiles softly, content in the moment. Her hand reaches out to grasp her drink, taking a sip and relishing the taste, then looking at you after she put it back down.

She watches for a bit, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "You're quiet..." she whispers softly, the words slipping out faster than her mind can reach. She noticed the way your eyes went to her instantly, flickering with a milisecond of emotion.

"I'm sorry, its just..." you whisper, having had no intention to make her feel like you were treating her any differently. Or, anything. It might've been the only thing that could make your heart feel like sinking for the present moment.

"I don't have anything on my mind right now..." you mumble, staring down to your plate, pausing your eating. Taylor shook her head gently, quickly taking back her words.

"No, I don't mean it like that," she whispers. Her shoulders fell ever so slightly in regret, and a frown was on her face at how your mind jumped straight to thinking she meant it in a bad way.

She reaches out to gently grasp your hand, assuring you softly. "I don't mind it when you're quiet." Her eyes search yours, finding there to be a certain blankness within.

"I'm just...concerned, baby," she adds, worry growing into her heart. She gives your hand a gentle squeeze, starting to feel that something was off.

She then takes in a breath. "...You know, Olivia was in space yesterday," Taylor says suddenly, gently cutting the quietness and returning her hand back to herself. You missed the embrace of her warmth already, but you didn't say anything.

You blink at the sentence though, wondering if she thought of it due to you zoning out, or if it was just the first thing she thought of to say next.

"What?" you whisper under your breath, looking at her. She returns your gaze, hers softening instead of being fully concerned.

A chuckle leaves her raised lips. "Yeah, looking like shes flying through space. I mean, I took some photos if you wanna see..." she murmurs, grabbing her phone from the table, just beside her plate, flipping it to the front to unlock her screen.

You wait patiently, a setting your fork down to lean against the dining table, watching as she goes to her photos to find it.

She stifles a giggle when she did, then turned her phone to show you it.

Your eyes widened, and a smile, for once, rose up from your lips, joined in with a giggle. "Tay..." you whisper, all while she was laughing off her heart.

"Amazing, right? Like...that one rainbow cat. The nyan...nyan cat?" she adds, grinning widely at you. Your giggles turned into a laugh as you nod, agreeing with her reference.

Her heart swells at your joyous sounds, finally getting at least a single full smile out of you in success.

When you both soon finished up breakfast with some passing time, you had stood up, taking the plates to the sink to start cleaning them.

Taylor was finishing off her drink before she steps off to you and leans over to put the glass in the sink.

She then gently wraps her arms around your waist from behind, giving a small, gentle kiss to your shoulder before resting her chin atop it.

Your heart warmed at the sweet gesture. Her eyes watch you put the soap on the plates, cleaning off the grime and dust.

"...How about a warm shower later?" she whispers softly, her voice near your ear, her warm breath nearly tickling your skin.

You thought about it for a moment, then gave way to a gentle, "Yeah...sure." Taylor was smiling softly, resting her cheek then to the back of your shoulder.

You turn your body slightly, pausing the washing to give her a gentle kiss. Her smile grew wider, and she met you halfway in a tender gesture.

The shower later was warm, a slow, affectionate atmosphere. It kind of left you feeling unreal, like you weren't even in your current reality.

As Taylor gently puts the shower gel on your skin, you were spaced out, off onto the shower wall. You had already helped her clean, and now she was returning the gesture, which usually you would be adoring her features as she focused, but your mind was off, and it couldn't at the moment.

She notices your expression, unbothered, but not enough to count as nonchalant. You felt like you were a car, always set to neutral mode all the time, and the world seemed gray along with your feelings, aside from Taylor, being sweet with her love and radiating the golden sun's warmth.

Her hand carefully roams your skin, fingertips brushing by every part of you as the running shower's sound echoes through the bathroom.

Taylor then leans in to give your cheek a kiss, as soft as the warm steam going up. "You okay, sweetheart?" she whispers softly.

Your eyes travel to her, catching smoothly with ease. "...Yeah..." you whispered back, trying to give her a small smile, but even she could see through it, see the slightest hint of a stoic look in your expression.

Her lips turn to the smallest of frowns, but she gives you another kiss, this time on your shoulder once the shower gel was rinsed off, her eyes going down to focus back to cleaning your body. "Okay..."

When she finishes up rinsing off the last of the shower gel on your body, then letting you both soak in a bit longer in the warmth, she soon turns off the shower, the water no longer felt cascading down your body.

You reach for the towel, drying yourself off before stepping out the shower with the towel around you. Taylor did the same, following you, and slipping her hand to yours, intertwining your fingers before you go to the bedroom.

You get your clothes on, after the tensing of the cold air. As you adjusted the hem of your shirt to fit completely so it wasn't bundled up, Taylor came up behind you, since you were standing facing the bed.

Her finger comes up, giving a gentle tap to your shoulder. The touch was light, but it got your attention enough to turn around.

She held up one of her hoodies, which was her lover hoodie that she loved wearing often, now offering it to you for today.

Your expressions softened, and you nod, letting her help you slip it on, getting your head up the neckline and pulling the sleeves on your arms.

She smiles once she was done, stepping back with a proudness in her heart of you in her hoodie. It was a usual sight, but it never failed to reach her precious heart.

The smallest hint of a pink tint came up in your cheeks, and Taylor went to sit down at the edge of the bed, still looking at you.

You go to get in bed, but going to the pillows, laying down and pulling the covers back up your body.

Her gaze softens when she follows your trail, and she joins you, scooting beside you, finding that you were spending much more time being cozy.

She wraps her arms around you, pulling you in closer. A small silence, at least, goes for a little moment.

"...Do you wanna watch a movie with me? Or...come join me in the music room?" she whispers. The windows were still bright with the daylight, shining in through and making the room glow, but cozy enough to send you into a dozy state.

"I...kind of just wanna be in bed..." you whisper softly back, curling into her. She could feel your nose ever so slightly brush against her shirt.

"You sure, baby?" Taylor asks, her eyes searching your body language, and just a bit of your eyes she could see.

"Yeah...its okay, you can go write..." you say softly, pursing your lip. Then a soft yawn escapes your mouth that you had to cover with your hand.

"I'm sleepy..." you murmured then, snuggling closer to her and slowly letting your eyes close.

Taylor looks down with concern growing on her expressions, but her hand gently rubs your back. "Well...okay, sweetie," she whispers back.

The fan was humming with wind, keeping the room filled with air and a certain coldness. You couldn't tell if it was because of your dust colored blue walls, or if the fan was just too cold.

Another yawn passes by your lips, and you curled up further. You wanted to go back to sleep. It was so tempting. So cozy and cold, even if it was the afternoon already.

You couldn't resist...

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

Taylor sat beside you after coming back from some songwriting.

She settled with nothing but only her own presence and your sleeping one. Her phone was on the nightstand. A book she was reading, was sitting over by the desk, and her guitar, was on its stand.

Her eyes search your figure from behind. You weren't even on the pillows anymore, you were in an odd horizontal position, curled up, like you were a cat.

She guessed you had been in and out of sleep, changing positions from the ruffled up look of the blanket and sheets.

She could see the dishelved look on your hair, and you didn't even have the blanket up your body.

A small breath leaves her soft lips. Her hand reaches for the covers, and she pulled them up, gently warming you up so you weren't going cold.

Before she could return back to her comfortable position, she soon heard some rustling from you stirring. She held her breath, freezing. But you were just turning around with your eyes still closed. Your arm had fallen to the bed once more in the roll of your body.

She lets her breath release in relief, realizing you were only moving in your sleep, your body urging to get comfortable.

When she leans back to the pillows, she gazes your face, her arm draped around your body. You seemed so sweet and peaceful, she almost didn't want to wake you at all.

But as much as she loved seeing you asleep and wondering what you were dreaming, she couldn't help the concern poking her heart. You may have simply needed the rest, but shutting down the whole day certainly wasn't something usual of you.

She wasn't upset with you. Not at all. She was simply aching at the thought that you were possibly struggling with something, but not wanting to tell her, or even maybe unable to describe it.

Sometime soon, the way your soft breaths turned more noticeable was a tell that you were waking up, along with your slowly opening eyes.

You let out a slow huff of a breath. Your body felt heavy. Your limbs were sore, and especially your legs and feet. You had been staying in bed for too long.

The feeling was still there. The blank feel of your own eyes, the feel of your heart. You swallowed the sleep in your throat, turning your head groggily, and your face peeking out from Taylor's chest.

She notices the movement, and looks down, tilting her head to see you. "...Sweetheart?" she whispers softly, her thumb going to gently rub your back.

You look up at her, a stoic looking expression on your face. You took a deep breath, then sighed softly, feeling the way your body sinks at the exhale.

She could see it. That faraway, distant look. Her eyebrows furrow, trying to put pieces together, of what could possibly have reason to your change of behaviour. But she stopped her mind, because maybe she didn't need to put a reason to it. Maybe she could just provide you your comfort and warmth.

What made it even worse was, you didn't even feel heavy. Maybe even floating, but you didn't feel like that either. You were grounded, present, but everything was like white noise.

You had showered in the morning, but because you had been napping, you didn't even feel clean anymore. Definitely not refreshed, either, even though you've caught all the sleep in the world.

"I'm sorry," you whispered softly, nuzzling into her. Her eyebrows furrow, and she looks down at you.

Taylor took in her own breath, pulling you in closer. "...Shh...It's okay...what are you sorry of...?" she whispers softly, knowing your lack of communication, meant something was off.

"Whats wrong, baby?" she asks softly, moving your stray strands of hair aside, keeping them clear from your eyes.

You curl up into her, snuggling in to find comfort in her embrace. You wanted to tell her. But the room was quiet. You could only feel the coldness of the wind, coming from the ceiling fan above you, brushing against your skin.

Everything seemed bare, felt like it was dull arrows piercing through an empty heart. You rest your head against the front of Taylor's shoulder, one arm around her while your other hand was fiddling with the fabric of her shirt.

Her hands go through your hair soothingly, waiting patiently for any sign that you would perhaps talk, but didn't mind not having an answer, at least knowing you were relishing all the comfort in her embrace.

She nuzzles into your hair, breathing in the scent of shampoo from the shower earlier, then contently sighed, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against you.

Your finger drew mindless circles, and your thumb went in a back and forth position here and there. "...What if it stays like this...?" you whispered. You then took a breath in, wanting to say further, but then you just exhaled it out shortly after, too tired to even say anything else.

She looks down at you, leaning back slightly. "Us, baby...?" she asks, wondering if you were relishing in the quietness. You shook your head.

"Me, sleeping constantly..." you murmur, the slight guilt etching into your voice. You hadn't done anything for the whole day,

"Oh...it won't, darling..." Her arms around you tightened, pulling you in closer. You lean into her, feeling the water in your eyes blur your vision, but you blink a little, and they were gone the second they came.

"...Just...I feel useless...and I didn't do anything today, or hung out with you." Your voice was getting quieter, smaller, possibly even along with how you were shrinking into her, burying your face into the crook of her neck.

She brings her attention to her thoughts, going through all the words in her mind. "You did things with me today. You got up from bed, ate your breakfast, showered...thats enough for me," she reassures you, letting out a soft breath.

"...You know, its normal to get some extra rest...even if you feel like you haven't 'done enough' to get up to that point," she whispers, laying a kiss atop your head.

"Its okay. You can just stay here with me for now," She whispers, resting her chin where she kissed afterwards, making you feel the warmth of her embrace enveloping you.

You heard her murmur, but you slump ever so slightly. "But when will it stop?" you whisper, one of the other problems tugging at the veins of your heart.

Her soft, non audible sigh was provided with an ache in her heart. "I don't know either, sweetheart..." she tilts her head down, looking into your eyes. "And thats okay. You don't always have to worry when it ends, maybe it'll just...happen," she whispers, nuzzling into your nose.

"...It happens with me too, you know..." she says, remembering all the times shes come back home from her shows, or an interview. You look up at her, searching her eyes. She smiles softly, giving you a gentle kiss. "And you've seen that I always turn out better...because you were always beside me."

The quietness goes for a moment, but now with a small drop of comfort, filling the space, some minutes for you to linger on her words. She gazes off to the doorway of your shared bedroom, deep in thought.

"Do you want something to eat...?" she whispers slowly, leaning back slightly to see your face. It had been hours since breakfast already, and she knew lunch was coming around.

Your stomach did feel empty. You hadn't noticed it until now. But you nuzzle back into her. Her arms instinctively tighten around you, a smile tugging on her lips.

"Its comfy..." you murmured. You certainly didn't want to let go, especially with the covers being as warm as Taylor, acting like a shield to the cold.

She gives another kiss to the top of your head, struggling to resist her smile. "Baby...as much as you look adorable, buried in the covers looking like a teddy bear..." she trails off, her eyes traveling down to you.

"Maybe you can be just as cozy when you're out of bed?" she suggests gently, tilting her head. Her thumb gave a sweet caress on your back.

You look into her eyes, hesitant on her gentle urging. The floor seemed too grounded for your feet, but the bed was also too soft for you to stay any longer without feeling the soreness.

After some consideration, you soon accept it with a gentle nod, the churning in your stomach unable to stay unnoticed anymore.

She smiles, ever so slightly, sitting up to start getting up from the bed. You felt a twinge of disappointment at the loss of warmth, but you follow her as she helps you.

You let out a gentle sigh when you sat at the edge of the bed. Taylor waited patiently when she stood up, her gaze gentle over your face. Her hand held yours, keeping touch.

You could feel a gentle squeeze, giving you reassurance before you finally will yourself to stand up. Although maybe a little too fast, causing you to blink at the dizziness and lean yourself against her.

She held you gently, her hand slipping out of yours quickly to wrap her arms around your waist, keeping you steady.

Whats worse is, you didn't even feel tired. You had feelings, but they weren't felt in your heart. There was sleepiness evident, but not tiredness evident. You were simply living in your body and drifting through time.

The world fell quiet, for once. But almost too quiet. Your ankle had pressure as you took your steps forward, and Taylor could see the slight disorientation mustered on your face, so she kept her eye on you, walking with you.

"Slow steps, baby," she whispers, concern etched on her face as she guides you. The deja vu of the moment was starting to run over your mind.

When you got to the kitchen, you sat at the barstool, while Taylor went off to open the cabinets, looking at the options to then take a glance to you.

"Toast or something else, baby?" she asks softly, her hand still holding on the handle of the cabinet. You turn your head up to her, blinking.

"Toast," you answered quietly. Taylor nods, and grabbed a plate, preparing it for you with your favorite spread on the bread.

Once she was done carefully setting it, she sets the plate down in front of you with a gentle clink, then smiled softly, leaning against the kitchen island.

You look to it, then lean forward a little, reaching out to take the toast into your grasp and put a bite into it.

As you chewed, you stare down at your sandwich in your hand, but couldn't help space off to the side a little, or the marble top of the island. You couldn't tell.

A quietness overlays the room. Taylor's eyes roam your expression before she rounds the island to your side, sitting beside you on another barstool.

"Maybe, if you want, we can sit outside for a little bit, you know?" she says softly, resting her arm on the kitchen island, along with her cheek against her palm.

You look at her, getting out of the zoned out state as she gently pulls you back to reality. At the same time, needing to swallow the bread in your mouth and take another bite as she watches.

"Have some hot chocolate..." she suggests softly, trailing off with a gentle smile growing on her face, her eyes going to you. She had made the corner of your lips have the smallest raise.

Taylor waits a little longer, seeing the wheels turning in your mind. "...Hm...?...is that okay with you?" she murmurs softly, in search of confirmation.

You think about it for a moment. Going back to bed seemed so nice. But having hot chocolate in the sun with Taylor? It was...an equal deal. Most times you didn't even need to think about such an offer like that, but even you couldn't figure out what was wrong with your current mind, if there was anything that needed to be identified.

A breath slowly leaves you, and you gave in with a nod, along with a small raise on the corner of your lips that didn't reach your eyes. "Sure."

She fully smiles now, and gives a nod of her own. "Good, I'll make the hot chocolate while you eat," she says, getting up to return to the kitchen counters.

You could hear the creaking of the cabinets, the pouring of hot water, and the gentle clinking of small spoons, stirring against the mugs.

It kept you focused on her, seeing her every move as she made the simple recipe of a warm beverage, easily fit for the midst of days like these.

Once you finish your sandwich, you put away the plate in the sink, although deciding to wash it later since there will be mugs too, now.

Just as you were finished, Taylor was too, and she had gestured to you your drink beside her on the counter, her hand still stirring her own.

You take some steps over to her, your hand about to reach out for the drink. "Careful, baby...its hot," she warned gently, wanting you to be careful.

You look to her, but then gently wrapping your fingers around the mug's handle. "Its called hot chocolate, anyway..." you say, the smallest smile on the corners of your lips, but it elicited a giggle out of Taylor, her head nodding in agreement. "True," she says.

You walked over to the front door, unlocking it and opening it slowly. The sunlight was shining down on everything, making a bright glow against the wooden porch. It was also going to be the sunset soon, too.

Taylor was about to join you in going outside as she followed, but got distracted by a nearby Benjamin, who had gotten curious of the front door opening.

His blue eyes stared gently right back up to her own, and she couldn't help but smile, bending down to gently pick his body up with her free hand.

Then, she joins you, stepping out the house and sitting down beside you on the clean steps of the porch. You were gently blowing on your hot chocolate, although there was a part in you that had an urge to simply take a sip, you remember Taylor's sweet warning.

She settled down with Benjamin, now laid down on her lap comfortably. Once she got comfortable, she puts down her mug, making sure it wasn't in a place where it could be knocked over.

You took some gentle sips, although it was still steaming hot, you could feel the warmth of the hot chocolate, running down easily through your throat, a soothing feeling that sank to your body.

Taylor glances to you, her eyes gently roaming your features and expression. She takes a moment, just a few, before she shifts closer and reaches her arm around you, pulling you closer just a little.

You blink slightly at the pull, but you lean into it eventually, melting into the side of her shoulder. Benjamin noticed, his ears tilting a little, but then he goes into your lap instead, resting cozily, purring. You could feel it.

It almost only made you feel sleepier. But in the comforting way, like the sunshine on your face, melting away the cold.

A gentle smile turns up on her face as she looks at you, then wraps her arm around you, comforting you with her touch.

She could see the relaxation going through you, finding solace in her presence as she simply sits there, peacefully with you. Maybe you didn't need anything else right now. Maybe you didn't have to do anything, but just be present.

Her thumb gently rubs your shoulder through your shirt, and she leans her head against yours, turning to give a lingering kiss before getting comfortable again.

She watches the birds fly in the sky, returning to their home or go to find food. "...Baby?" she starts with a whisper, gently catching your attention to her.

You turn your head to look at her, seeing she had leaned back slightly to look at you properly. "...Mm?" you responded with a questioning hum.

She stays quiet for a moment, simply searching your eyes, as if she was trying to read your thoughts.

"...Can you tell me something, honey?" she asks softly, her other hand coming down to gently slip into your own hand, intertwining your fingers. You gave her a gentle nod, wanting her to continue.

A bit of her lip gets captured by her teeth, but then she lets go to speak quietly, treading carefully. "Do you need anything?"

You thought about the question, your eyes slowly blinking through it, and there was a near furrow in your eyebrows, but eventually her question was answered. "...Just you."

A small smile grew on her lips, but the breath in she took told that she had more to say. "Okay, then be honest with me on this one," she continued, her voice a little more serious, but still soft and sweet.

You stay quiet, waiting for her next words. "What's going on...hm?" she asks with a slight tilt of her head, her hand that was on your shoulder going down to find ground on the wood of the porch.

Your eyes divert from her gaze the second her question came out, a small breath escaping you slowly, but your free hand went to Benjamin's soft fur.

Her face softens, seeing the way you turned away, and she gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. "You don't have to tell, and I won't judge...but I'm worried. I mean, aside from all the sleeping..." she murmurs, knowing there was something else.

You take a moment to respond, your teeth sinking into the side of your lip. You didn't want to answer. You didn't know how to. But it was Taylor, and if anyone could understand your feelings the most, it was her.

Your shoulders lowered slowly with a breath, your eyes downcast. You gathered your words before you softly spoke. "...I don't know whats happening anymore, Tay."

Your gaze returned to her, your eyes squeezing slightly in sadness as you then lean your head against her shoulder. "I feel so...sleepy...but I've gotten so much sleep."

Her hand rubs in a soothing up and down motion on your shoulder, pulling you closer before she gives a kiss to your head, listening closely.

You sighed. "...I don't know. Its...everything is just...gray. I can't find...passion. And not even music helps..." you continued, with your last words being quiet, and then you slumping into her in defeat.

Taylor's heart broke at the heaviness your shoulders seemed to be holding, even if it didn't show, or didn't felt like it was there.

But she took her heart's love, trying to help you find your way back. "Its okay if you end up not being able to feel things sometimes, you know..." she whispers softly.

"I mean, its...not great, but you're still here, aren't you? Being present, still giggling every once in a while even if its hard." she says softly, a small smile coming up on her face to reassure you, and you did feel your heart soften.

"Maybe your brain's just trying to protect you, from big feelings, but it doesn't know how much to reduce?" she pauses for a moment, her mind wanting to be careful with her words. A breath of air goes through her lips.

You frown, hugging her closer and going closer the best you could with Benjamin in your lap. You could still feel the purring. "I don't like it..." you murmur, hating that you couldn't seem to feel anything, nearly to the point that you were even beginning to think it was becoming your personality. But Taylor knew it wasn't that.

"I know...but it won't last forever, sweetheart," she reassures you softly, her arms tightening around you. Her embrace held her love.

"Your passion will come right back to you sometime soon, and maybe you'll even blink and its right there again." The words were simple, a gentle but clear meaning to you in your mind as Taylor gazes off to the neighbourhood.

"Maybe we don't have to...do anything...we can just...sit," she whispers, relaxing slowly with you. She could feel your own body, melting away the tension.

"...And I'll be right here, beside you." Her murmur was quiet, leaning back and tilting her head to look at you, then kiss your cheek, a breath of near relief escaping you as you bury your face into her.

"Its okay."

"We're gonna be okay, baby."

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

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[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Cale blinks, eyes bleary. He's being held in Choi Han's arms, tucked close to his chest. Wince. Not only does his head hurt, his body hurts now too.

Being ten is strange. Strange in the way that his body doesn't match his mind anymore. Strange in the way that he feels like a stranger in someone else's home. It reminds him of a memory, older than he is, of when he first walked into the orphanage. Out of place. The kids already there looked at him like he was no different from them, but it was strange to finally be labeled an orphan despite having been without parents for most of his life, now.

The 7 year olds memories tucked away in his mind welcome the 10 year old in. Cale frowns.

A habit from his older years, and younger ones, has him checking his environment before his condition.

"I will go to Duke Fredo." He hears Eruhaben declare to everyone in the room, clearly having a meeting of sorts. Cale is tucked so close to Choi Han that his being awake goes unnoticed. Or, if it is noticed, no one says anything about Cale listening in.

Rosalyn nods. "The White Star is planning something in Cale's absence. We need to find out what that is," somberly, she adds, "Before 'he' decides to do something about it first."

Cale yawns in the middle of her talking, and the buzzing in his ears prevents him from hearing the last part. Duke Fredo... Cale remembers being Naru, for a time. Cookies and the White Star... his head aches. It feels, very accurately, like a long needle is being inserted into his skull and poking around in his brain.

"Cale?" Choi Han squeezes his shoulder. The 10 year old in his arms frowns more at how comfortably he's being held. How long has Choi Han been carrying him? He recalls being carried by Choi Han many times. It makes him recall other things, such as pain and coughing up blood. He assertively stops thinking about it.

The meeting on the other side of the room comes to an end at Cale's emerging consciousness. The eyes on him feel familiar. It reminds him of the pitiful looks he got when he wandered the cold streets in nothing but a school uniform. His memory flickers and it suddenly reminds him again of the team, when they looked at him as the Team Leader.

Though, he can't think of any reason why they're staring at him like that.

Finally, with a twang of pain in his skull, he realizes that they're looking at him with expectation... he doesn't connect the dots that their expressions are that of worry. Was there something he missed? He yawns again, tears coming to his eyes, and he calmly wipes them away before kicking his legs.

"I want down."

Choi Han sets him on the ground, steadying him on his wobbly, sleepy legs. Cale is thinking about the conversation that Eruhanen and Rosalyn just had when hunger pains radiate from his stomach like twisting tendrils.

-Sorry Cale! I took longer to heal your body because of the curse, but it's fixed now!

Clutching his stomach with one hand, he covers his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep the blood in his hand as he coughs wetly. It tastes familiar, beyond the familiarity he had with it at 10, but rather its a lifetime of familiarity that cannot be contained in just the words, 'he tasted blood.' It was a taste he knew better than food or water.

His chest feels better, he notes. His head still hurts, unfortunately, but he shouldn't expect too much.

It also came out of his nose. Gross.

With that underwhelming thought, he keeps the blood carefully cupped in his hand. Uncle hated when he got blood on the-

Uncle is...

Right.

But still... he shouldn't get blood on his Hyung-nim's nice carpet. It's probably... expen... sive.

Noise buzzes around him, someone is touching his shoulder, but he's coughing blood again, again, and again, and it feels awful as his stomach twists and writhes with the hunger and pain that he's felt before, but it makes him ravenous all the same.

Hungry. He could eat anything right now. He remembers the tasteless rock he ate to get Super Rock's Ancient Power. He'd even eat a normal rock.

But still, even in his hunger, he keeps his mouth closed.

He can't bring himself to ask for food.

Not even from Raon. Something in his core, in his gut and his heart and his soul, tells him that he shouldn't ask. How could he take food from Raon? Well, it's Raon's supply of food for Cale anyway, so it's okay. But taking food from a child? But Cale is a child too--

"Human! That's your hungry face! Quickly eat this pie!" Raon cries out and there's suddenly a slightly smashed slice of apple pie in his face. How are there already tears on it...?

He grabs it without thinking hard.

The hunger doesn't care about tears, and soon Cale is stuffing his face with the salty apple pie with a fervor that he, at 10, would normally never have shown to anyone. He eats without chewing with a familiarity that makes him want to cry.

Choi Han's hand shakes on Cale's shoulder.

He should've checked Cale's condition beforehand. He saw that Cale used the ancient powers but still, Cale only got his external wounds treated. Why did he let his happen? He thought that it would be okay this time. Cale was young now and he wasn't showing a response for a long time, so he didn't think. There's no excuse for this.

Cale eats desperately, as if his life depends on it, and Choi Han can't help the way his heart cracks at the sight. And burns with frustration at his own uselessness.

Drip.

The room is quiet.

Drop.

"Human! Do-do you need more apple pie?!" Raon yells, panicking, bringing out more apple pie as Cale's cheeks become wet with silent tears. He reaches for a pie in the air and scarfs it down, uncaring of the sticky fingers covered in sweet apple filling and flaky, crumbling bits of crust.

It tastes like home.

It doesn't taste like Uncles house, or blood, or school hallways or alleys or scraps.

He sobs miserably, wanting to hide. He isn't crying over apple pie, he isn't! From his memories, he definitely shouldn't be crying over this much- it didn't even hurt enough to cry!

Thunder crackles outside the castle. Cale remains hunched over a new slice of apple pie, curling into himself in a very not-Cale like manner.

Another crack of lightning outside.

Eruhaben steps in front of Cale. He brushes Choi Han, frozen in his shock, away from the scene. Raon brings more apple pie out, even as he sees that Cale isn't so much eating the pie as he is holding it.

"Human, I will- I will destroy the world! You can't go into a coma again, I will- I will," Raon's voice cracks. Choi Han gathers himself. He looks at Cale, before calmly standing next to Raon and touching his paw in the air. "Human..."

"Cale," Eruhaben speaks calmly. "Look at me."

Cake shakes his head, fingers trembling. Something's wrong with him, inside of him, and the panic gets to his chest as he starts to take quicker breaths. Cale looks through his memories to fix himself but they blur in a cacophony of sounds and words and frames.

"Cale Henituse, you need to relax. Everything is okay. No one is taking anything from you. Calm down."

They weren't inspirational and comforting words. No, the words could even be considered a little cold, for an adult speaking to what appears to be a 7 year old. But it was necessary for Cale, who was 10 and not 7, and Kim Rok Soo, who was orphaned at a young age and abused and abandoned, and a little boy who went through both child and teenage years without anyone he could call family.

Cale opens his eyes. Were they closed? Eruhaben is in front of him.

Calm down.

Why did Lee Soo Hyuk come to mind when he heard that? A distant, dusty memory falls through his mind, so he picks it up and watches it. The Record plays out.

Something happened like this, once.

It was the only time he came close to crying in front of the Team Leader. Lee Soo Hyuk brought him out of it. The Record, though the reason why he almost cried was somehow forgotten(lost?), always played when he needed to put himself together in a moment of weakness.

Even now. When he is 10 years old in a 7 year olds body. The voice brings back the feeling of calm.

His memories settle.

Right. This is more like him. More like himself.

His face levels out into something neutral.

It feels like an older version of himself, somewhere between 38 and 20, is stroking the top of his head. Cale wonders if hallucinations are part of the curse.

"Good job." Lee Soo Hyuk in the Record and Eruhaben's words overlap for a moment but Cale ignores it.

It takes mental strength to stand straight again, but he manages it with a stiff expression. His hands are a mess, a gross mix of blood and the smushed flesh of what used to be a perfect apple pie.

He's never been more ashamed and embarrassed in his life. Old memories come to mind, reminding him that he's done worse, but the 10 year old in a 7 year olds body feels mortified. If he'd done this in front of his uncle...

"I'm sorry." Cale apologizes. It comes out of his mouth naturally. He has a lot that he could be apologizing for. The floor, which surely has blood and messy apple pie on it now. The pie, which is as ruined as his shirt. The weird hyperventilating thing he did. He recalls his memories. Maybe it wasn't what Lee Soo Hyuk called it, a 'panic attack,' but something different, more sinister.

He convinces himself that it is.

Red flag number 6 it is.

"Cale, you have nothing to be sorry for." Eruhaben states clearly. Cale looks him in the eyes. Strangely, he feels compelled to believe the Ancient Dragon.

.... Red Flag number 7?

Cale backs away on instinct.

Eruhaben sighs.

"Unlucky bas... hah." Standing up from where he had apparently gotten on his knees, Eruhaben waves his hand. The gross feeling on Cale's hands disappears effortlessly, and the stain on his shirt vanishes too. "It'll still be better to wash your hands, at least. Though that doesn't mean you're dirty... it means you were attacked by apple pie." Eruhaben tells him seriously. He lowers himself to his height and makes eye contact. "So it's best to wash it off, just in case some of it is still on you. It could... attack again."

The other people in the room, notably missing Bud and the mage Glenn now, stare at Eruhaben. He pointedly ignores their gazes.

Cale nods.

Eruhaben covers his rising smile.

"Off you go now," he lowers the hand, looking serious again. Struggling, he continues,"... Be careful." Like sending off a soldier, he stands up and looks away from Cale.

Choi Han covers his own face and fights to not laugh.

Somehow, despite the fact that Cale technically has all of his memories, the explanation works for him. He goes into the bathroom, escorted by Ron, who helps wash his hands at the sink. Ron also has him change his clothes, despite their clean appearance.

Ron assures him that it's due to the risk of another apple attack. It could be stuck to the clothes as well. Cale frowns. Ron smiles at the pouting 7 year old.

The 10 year old starts changing his clothes obediently.

Cale's muscles ache and burn. Even his bones hurt.

His head is in so much pain, especially when he focuses, but he draws in his willpower to think very hard about the reason why he might be in this condition.

Cale winces as the needle in his brain digs in deep and drags itself over his frontal lobe, and he visibly shudders, trying not to grimace.

10 year olds are supposed to be bigger than 7 year olds, is the conclusion he comes to.

...

Cale gets chill on the back of his neck.

Surely he isn't going to grow... right? No, no way. If he is, surely he shouldn't be in pain, right? He became 7 years old in a flash and it didn't hurt, so why now?

The pain alleviates for a second. In feels like whatever is causing the pain is given a revelation.

In his undergarments, Cale is enveloped in a white light.

This is...

Definitely red flag number 8.

Definitely, he thinks, suddenly 12 years old in a 12 year olds body. The needle painfully digging into his brain burns and yet feels cold at the same time. It spreads like an infection, and he immediately covers his right eye as it becomes numb with a sharp, icy sensation. Strangely, his hand warms up.

Ron, who innocently retrieved a garment from the crown prince Alberu's younger days, drops it. The assassins hands, which never tremble, shake more than they would if Cale had been an adult. Seeing a newly 12 Cale bleeding from his eye...

Blood seeps through the gap between Cale's hand and his face, which is now suddenly 12 years old.

Cale-- Ron realizes as he calls, as calmly as he can, for the ancient dragon and rushes in a not-so-calm manner to the young masters side-- has yet to realize that his eye is gushing blood. The 12 year old looks at Ron, confused.

Ron's expression is stiff.

"Ron?" Cale asks.

Eruhaben enters the room alongside Raon and Choi Han, but Ron focuses on relaxing his expression, and carefully holding Cale's hand to his eye, keeping it there so he doesn't remove it.

"Young Master... Do you remember the song, Dark Night Moon Light?"

Cale frowns. His head hurts.

"No." He says honestly. Why is everyone in here all of a sudden? Cale was barely dressed in some now too-small shorts. It's cold, he thinks through the pain.

"Then I will remind you, Young Master. It's a children's song that parents or butlers like me sing at a child's bedside. The child will close their eyes and listen to the song. Would you allow this butler to sing it to you?"

All of a sudden?

Cale feels uncomfortable, but his head hurts so much that he can't think about it a lot, so he closes his eyes.

Ron sings, in his calm and low voice, a common children's melody. He himself had once sung it for Beacrox, a long time ago.

It's supposed to help children who find themselves terrified of the dark. As far as Ron knows, Cale was never been so afraid of the dark to have this song sung to him... but, he understands with a bitter heart, even if he had been scared, the song would've been sung by his mother. Not his father, who was too sucked in by his grief after her passing.

He realizes that Cale, being 12 now, must no longer have the memories of his mother singing to him.

Eruhaben has Ron carefully remove Cale's hand, which had been pooling blood inside, spilling onto the floor.

Branded under his eye, looking like a burn in the soft and thin skin, is a number.

'12'

Eruhaben waves away the blood.

"Young Master, open your eyes now. The song is over." Ron doesn't react to the number, and when Cale opens his eyes, hides his relief that his eye is not damaged. Just bleeding. "Do you know how old you are now?" Though, Ron had a strong suspicion that they already knew.

"... 12, I think."

"Cale, you've been fighting off the curse, haven't you?" Eruhaben asks. It feels angry. Cale shrinks in on himself.

"It's fine, isn't it? It's better if I'm older."

He won't cry anymore. He can bathe again, since he can now handle the phantom sensations of blood and scars and dirt. He won't ignorantly use his ancient powers. Off the top of his head, there are more reasons that he should be older than there are reasons to go back to being young.

He is a better slacker when he isn't being whiny and childish.

"... Cale-nim." Choi Han groans.

"You knew that you were fighting off the curse, right?" Eruhaben asks again, but it's calculating.

"... Yes," but how could he not? He could always feel when he grew older, smarter. Not to mention the cracking like pain of his skull being hammered in, worse and worse as he ages. Even now, he can only tell the honest and not altered truth, simply because he is in too much pain.

Choi Han wants to ask. 'Is it because you don't trust us?'

But he holds his tongue.

Eruhaben sighs. He nods at Ron.

"Get dressed." Eruhaben rubs the top of Cales red hair, leaving him frazzled, before leaving the room. Choi Han clutches his sword and restrains his rampant emotions.

"You aren't in trouble human! The great and mighty Raon will help you become a child again!" Raon flies around Cale. Ron, observing Choi Han and Raon, leaves to rob the crown prince of more clothes.

Sigh. Cale shivers.

His head hurts.

[heyitsme1040]

Hiii! I just saw your repost, where you said you're going through writers block, and I want to request an mcu headcanons about

Tony Stark / Bucky Barnes / and Loki Laufeyson (all seperate) X a gn reader who gets extra clingy when they're sleepy/tired!

Have a good night!

This is so cute! Thank you for the request, it was super fun to write.

How Marvel Men Would React to: You Being Clingy When Tired

feat. Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, and Loki Laufeyson

AO3 (x)

Tony Stark

He hates how little sleep you get, but he also loves how accepting of his affection you are. Tony hates when you don't get enough sleep. He's no example of a healthy sleep schedule, but you're just barely doing better than he is. It's obvious when it happens. You rub your eyes harshly throughout the day, words seem to escape your thoughts when explaining your latest idea, and you become clumsy.  When well rested you enjoy Tony's company. Always greeting each other with kisses, spending most of the day together, but still managing to do your own things. But when you're tired, you crave his presence. You'll slip in front of him when he tinkers and wrap your arms around him. You'll settle into his space and he'll continue working. It isn't an uncommon sight for you to be straddling his lap, face against his shoulder, while he sits in an office chair. Right now Tony wants nothing more than to scoop you up and carry you to bed, except he's in important meetings that have already been rescheduled four times. He kisses you before going into his office to be ready for the video conferences. You pout as he crosses the hall.  Not wanting to go far away, you work on the project you've been thinking over. It's as you're writing down the last portion of your formula that your focus is gone. Frustration builds as you cross out more and more of what you'd just written. Slowly, the lack of sleep catches up to you. You were crashing, and any more coffee was a bad idea. Finally giving in you drop the pen. You unlocked your phone, squinting at the harsh brightness of the screen, and sent Tony a text. You didn't want to interrupt his meetings, but you also knew trying to fall asleep without him would be difficult. Tony is relieved when the meetings go by faster than he was expecting them to. Once he disconnects from the last video conference, he goes across the hall to the workshop. Surprised by its emptiness, he grabs his phone to call you only to see your text. He smiles, rushing upstairs to the bedroom. You're curled up in one of his sweatshirts while laying on his side of the bed, face squished against his pillow. He steps out of his shoes while crossing the room. You lift your head as soon as his steps ring through the room. The moment he sits on the bed to lay down, you move to wrap your arms around his waist with a huff. Tony can't help the fond chuckle that escapes him. He'll pull your hands away for a moment, a quiet whine escaping you, before scooping you into his lap. He'll lay down, shifting you so that his chin is just above your head. His breaths cause you to be gently rocked. Your legs tangle together, and he makes a dramatic gasp when your cold toes press against his ankles.  "Not close enough,” you mumble against the column of his throat. His responding hum vibrates against your lips. You bury your head further into his neck. Tony's arms slip beneath his hoodie you're wearing and rub your back while holding you tighter to him. The content sigh you release makes him feel more accomplished than any of those meetings did. He presses his lips against your hair. He doesn't pull away, just enjoying having his lips against you while feeling the warmth of your skin. "You should sleep,” he mumbles against you. You fight off a yawn before replying, "You should, too.” "Deal. JARVIS, enter black out mode.” "Certainly sir,” the robotic voice acknowledges. "Black out mode engaged.” The lights turn off and the shutters close, plunging the room into darkness. A projection of the stars dimly covers the ceiling. Tony pulls a cover over the both of you. 

Bucky Barnes

You sat in the living room, nursing a cup of coffee, and watching the sun rise higher by the hour. Your nightmares were getting worse. You were glad Bucky was on a mission until this afternoon, not wanting to disturb the little sleep he could get. It was a long week, but you could manage. You couldn't help the nightmares that plagued your sleeping mind. They left their mark against you, the dark circles under your eyes anything but subtle. It was a surprise when you heard the lock in the door. Just as you whipped around to look, the door swung open, revealing Bucky. He dropped his bag as you hurried across the room. In your rush, you tripped over the small rug in your hallway. Bucky's arms were quick to be around you. He picked you up, your legs going around his waist. "Hi,” you breathed out. "I've got you,” Bucky kissed you while kicking the door closed. "What are you doing up?” "Couldn't sleep.” You felt Bucky's shoulders slump as he gently traced the circles under your eyes.  "How many?” You bit your lip, not wanting to worry him. But you also knew he understood. While you debated, Bucky sat on the couch. The sunlight cast golden beams into the room, making you feel safe. "It was just eleven…” you trailed off. Bucky frowned, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Sweetheart, why didn't you let me know you needed me? I would have been here as fast as possible.” You sagged against him, using his large frame as your personal pillow. “Because I didn't want to worry you, and your mission was important…”  “You're important,” he said disapprovingly.  “I know,” you promise. "But your mission was so short.” He gave you an unimpressed look. “I was gone four days.”  You sagged against him further, no longer supporting your weight. Bucky sighed as snores came from you. He hated that you didn't sleep while he was away. Both of you suffered from nightmares. The only solution that kept them away was when the two of you slept beside each other. He knew your nightmares, just as you knew his. He slowly stood up, cradling you against him. Going to the bed, he tucked you in. The small whimper that left you as he moved around the bed made his heart clinch. Even asleep you were reaching out for him. He laid down, pulling your malleable body into his hold. His heart always soared when you were tired, loving how touchy you became. Usually you would wait for him to initiate physical touches, but when you were asleep? All you wanted to do was touch him. The first time he discovered this made his heart melt. Sleeping was when you were most vulnerable, and all you wanted when sleeping was him. The trust you had in him to protect you while slept was the best feeling possible to him.

Loki Laufeyson

Loki's adoration of you grew daily. You were self assured and confident, easily seeming like an immovable force. And you were, but Loki got to see what you were like behind closed doors. Loki witnessed you when the bravado was washed away. Witnessed how dedicated you were to the people in your life. He was lucky enough to be one of those people.  Loki's favorite time was the evening. Getting to relax with you after a long day was perfection to him. Being around you energized him from the tiring tasks of the day. Learning your quirks was an added bonus of spending evenings together.  His favorite was when you were tired. He was used to falling asleep in each other's arms, but what he didn't expect was your nightly request that he speak. Anything from tales of Asgard to having him ramble about seemingly nothing. Each night he looked forward to lulling you to sleep with his stories. He learned, slowly, that his voice was what allowed you to sleep peacefully. Some nights, when your breathing was evened out, he'd stop talking. It was these nights you would hold onto him tighter, angling your body as if you were trying to shield him from something. He would stroke your hair and begin talking again, and you would relax against him. Instead of your hands clinging to his shirt, they would lay flat against his chest.  He loved the way you would ask him to tell you something. Your eyes would flutter shut, but then you were jerking awake again as if you wanted to avoid sleeping for as long as possible. You would finally give in, resting your forehead against his.  “Tell me something,” you'd whisper. “What would you like to hear?” He'd brush your hair away from your eyes. It became a game for him, guessing what your reply would be. If you'd want him to finish a story you fell asleep in the midst of, or to start a new story. Maybe you would want to hear about his thoughts on a book, or request he talk about anything. It didn't matter to him, just as long as you were relaxed. Clinging onto his words more than consciousness was a gift you weren't even aware you were giving him. He relished these moments, committing them to his memory.

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