#like…. choose kindness? and it’s ok to WANT to know that you’re loved and remembered?

[mvrcellas]

hm

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?��

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[luveline]

hi! i just remembered a scene from friends where chandler says to monica it's ok she's high maintenance cause he likes maintaining her and i think this is soooo spencer and bombshell!reader coded. you're ok with writing this as a request? love u jadey

ty (ily)!! fem!reader

Spencer’s feet ache dully with each step he takes, but you have your hand in his, and you’re pulling him along with a smile. Your smile could cure anything, he thinks stupidly. It’s completely outside of his beliefs, goes against every book on medicine he’s ever read. 

“Why are you frowning?” you ask, swinging his hand as you turn the corner together. 

“I’m not.” 

You step closer, arm stuck to his arm, nearly one body walking together against the summer breeze. “You’re frowning, Spence. You have a very obvious pout. It is so so cute.” You lean in to kiss him quickly, his heart turning to a pitter-patter under his ribs. 

“I’m tired,” he explains, not wanting you to think his bad mood has anything to do with you. 

“You’ve had a long day, that’s why. When we get back to your place I’ll give you an incredible foot massage and everything will be okay again.” 

“I don’t want a foot massage. My feet don’t even hurt,” he lies.

“Don’t bother.” You untangle your fingers from his and wave him away. “I know all your tells, baby boy,” —he laughs through a wrinkled nose— “nothing gets past me.” 

“Why’d you choose a dry cleaners so far from your apartment?” he asks. You could’ve picked the one beside work, which has a yellow pages worth of fantastic reviews. The one second closest to his place is new but raved about at length. This dry cleaners is nearly twenty-five blocks away.

“They do things exactly how I like it, I guess. I never have to worry about it when I give them my best clothes, and it’s kind of expensive if they were to accidentally ruin something, right?” You have expensive taste; you like things sturdy, fitted, and fashionable. 

“Do you think I should get someone to do my laundry?” he asks. 

“You can afford it. But maybe not. There’s nothing wrong with your own washing machine and a steamer.” You side eye him carefully. “Maybe I’m over the top.” 

“You’re high maintenance,” he agrees. “Is it expensive, getting your clothes dry cleaned all the time? I could pay for that.” 

“What? Why would you pay for it?” 

“‘Cos we’re together?” He’s more worried than dry about it. “I’d like to pay for your manicures and your hair, too, but I didn’t think you’d let me.”

“And I won’t… s’kind of nice you want to though. Really nice, um.” You’re blinking funny. “I think that’s more of a husband thing. You really want to pay for me to get manicures?” 

Spencer pays for lots of your stuff because he loves you. Good food mostly, but treats, clothes, anything he might think you’re interested in, actually. He likes to spoil you. You tend to spoil him back, if not with money then affection. “I like maintaining you.” 

You curl your arm through his. “That’s a funny way to say it.” 

He laughs at your obvious delight. “I like taking care of you,” he admits. “You like being high maintenance, it makes you happy, and I like making you happy.” 

“Thank you very much,” you say, softer now as your hand works up his neck and you turn his face to you, the sidewalk and the streetlines melting away under your warm touch. “You make me happier than you know.” 

His cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t need to see himself to confirm. It’s a high statistical probability. 

“Kiss?” you ask, voice still soft. 

Spencer walks you back nearer to the side of a building and out of the way, his hands at your neck and waist as he leans down just a touch to close your gap. He acts selfishly, perhaps, taking your hand from his face in order to hold yours in both of his without anything in the way of it. He kisses, he breathes you in, his head tilting more heavily to the side as the kiss lengthens, lingers. You’re like a flower in his hand, blooming slowly under the effects of a little heat. 

“What if you pay for my dry cleaning,” you begin, a smile evident in your voice though Spencer keeps his eyes closed. Tracing the hill of your cheek with his fingers just a moment longer. “And I pay for yours?” 

Spencer thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t want anything from you, just you.” 

“Well, what if I treat us to some Indian takeout tonight?” you ask. “Would you eat that? Or am I enough to sustain you, my love?” 

He could enjoy being taken care of in turn, he thinks. 

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: to blanc, you are the change he needed, and your pressing secret won't change that.

WARNINGS: mentions of mortality, blood. Vampire stuff.

COMMENTS: ok ok so @vivislosingitagain here is my thought process YOU like biting people and sucking their blood so YOU are a vampire. and HEY GUESS WHAT vampires are IMMORTAL kind of. and im pretty sure blanc is really fucking old so i think mortality angst would work great with him BUT WHAT IF HIS PARTNER WAS AS OLD AS HE WAS AND BIT HIM. that's the post.

also im so sorry if blanc is out of character i have seen this man three times in the routes ive played + the prologue oops.

It’s a clear night. The stars are bright in the sky, just as they were hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Blanc doesn’t know if they’ll ever change, but he takes comfort in their consistency. They’re stationary, unmoving, unshifting, just like him. He’s always been in Cradle, long enough to see the shattering of bonds between the armies and the first Alice fall. He’s seen the skirmishes and the blood and the carnage.

And he’s seen you, the one who followed him into the rabbit hole and into Cradle.

He remembers thinking you were cute. He remembers Oliver scolding him for speaking his mind, and he remembers you tearing your eyes away from him, a shy smile on your lips. You’ve always been alluring, in a way he never anticipated, and it makes him wonder if someone from the Land of Reason can really be magical like the people of Cradle.

It’s no use though—he knows the passage of time will take you away. He knows love (what he feels for you, there’s no doubt about it) is a powerful force, but it cannot break the way the sun and moon rise and fall, it cannot stop the stars from dying light years away, it cannot stop your inevitable aging.

He knows this, and yet he can’t let go. He greets you in the morning with a soft pat on your head, leaning over your bed as you stretch and yawn. His gaze softens when you rub your eyes and look over at him, and you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing you ever want to see.

He’s so selfish—he wants so badly for you to only look at him.

For someone so keenly aware of how mortal you are, he knows he's being awfully flippant about it. It’s the folly of man, to be so foolish as to yearn, but there’s always the possibility that fate will take pity on his poor soul and listen to its cries for his love to stay.

And so, the next night, a night that should be no different from any other, he breaks his routine. He keeps you up late, chatting over tea as the full moon rises in the sky, asking you if you want to go home. He watches you as you go quiet, your previously bright smile fading into a thoughtful frown. You’re staring into your tea as if it can give you the answer, and Blanc hopes the tea will give you the same answer he would.

I wish you would stay. I wish you would stay with me. I wish you would think I’m worth it. I wish that if I had to be hurt then you would be the one to hurt me because I’ve never loved anyone like you and I doubt I ever will. I wish you would be the one to thrust this dagger into my heart so fate doesn’t have the chance.

“...I want to stay with you.” you say, and Blanc knows you’re hiding something from him but he can’t bring himself to ask when you already look so worried.

“Are you sure?” he asks, reaching across the table to place a hand on yours.

Your head jerks up and you meet his gaze with parted lips—almost like you want to tell him but are far too scared.

“You can tell me anything.” he stresses, squeezing your hand gently.

“I’m not...” you purse your lips, looking away again as you choose your words carefully, “I’m not having doubts about staying here, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Blanc holds back his sigh of relief in favor of another inquisitive glance. Your brow furrows and he knows you feel his stare, your cute canines poking at your lower lip as you gnaw on it pensively.

“I have a secret I don’t think I’m ready to share yet.” you say softly, turning back to him, “I will someday. I just...need time.”

Blanc laughs, a sound that's full of relief and love and sounds like the wind chimes that hang in your no longer temporary bedroom’s window, the ones that have been there since you came and will be there when—if—you leave.

“Darling.” he breathes, staring straight into your eyes with so much love, “I have all the time in the world.”

The full moon sinks beneath the horizon and the sun comes up again. The teacups from the night before have been cleaned and placed back on their shelves, and the cake you two cut slices out of remains in the fridge. There are still traces of you within the house—your skincare is still in the bathroom, your toothbrush is next to his, and your chair still has a cushion of your favorite color. None of those things have been removed because you didn’t leave.

You’re still in your bedroom, sleeping soundly, but this time Blanc is there with you, his arms wrapped around you. His body is tangled with yours, your legs intertwining as the bed sheets knot themselves around your limbs. Your head is resting right over his heart, the part of him that’s pounding away for you. Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and stares down at your sleeping face, the face that shows him all of your thoughts and emotions, the face that belongs to the person who loves him enough to stay.

He wakes you up with a kiss on your forehead, a kiss on the bridge of your nose, a kiss on your left eyelid and a kiss on your right, a kiss on your jaw—

He sighs when you start to stir, propping yourself up on your elbows. The bed sheets fall off your body like water cascading down the side of a cliff, and your bleary eyes have never looked more beautiful. He lays there, admiring you in the morning light as the wind chimes chime, the soft breeze from the cracked open window ruffling through your hair.

You shiver.

“Darling,” Blanc calls, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Good morning.”

You smile when you turn to look at him, and you allow yourself to fall back against the mattress next to him.

“Good morning.” you murmur, your nails tracing the curve of his cheekbone before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “You look so handsome.”

Ever the charmer, he’s rarely been charmed himself. And so he does the only thing he deems appropriate, and thanks you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

Weeks pass, and Blanc finds himself growing into this new routine. You're a sign of change, that he knows for sure. His own room remains vacant for the most part unless you decide to pull him into his room instead of your own when you’re ready for bed. It makes no difference to him where you go, only that he can follow you like the lovesick fool he is.

Except you’re not leading him to either of your bedrooms tonight.

You’re leading him outside, under the pale moonlight and into the chilly nighttime breeze. He looks up at the full moon and holds your hand a little tighter.

“Thank you for giving me time.” you say, the wind swelling as it passes between the two of you and further into the night, “I’m ready to tell you what I’ve been hiding from you now. It’s...not fair to keep it from you any longer.”

“I understand,” he smiles softly, cupping your cheek, “Go ahead.”

“I’m a vampire.” you say, and it takes his brain a few moments to catch up, “I’ve...found it hard to get blood in Cradle but since meeting with Kyle’s he’s managed to get me blood when I need it. I don’t like drinking from animals or people but it...has to be done for me to stay alive.”

Blanc’s brain is whirring as you spill your guts to him, your mouth moving faster and faster as you explain how despised vampires are in the Land of Reason, how people view them as monsters and how you’re certain you’re cursed.

Cursed. What a funny word to say to him.

“Is that why your canines are so sharp?” he blurts, leaning closer to your face.

You stop talking, bending backward just a bit at his sudden closeness.

“I—I’m sorry, what?” you ask, looking confused.

“Ah, well....I always thought they were cute.” he smiles kindly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I...” you blink owlishly before shaking your head in disbelief, “Blanc, I just told you I’m a vampire.”

“Indeed you did.”

Your mouth falls open as if looking for the right words to say, and yet you come up with nothing.

“You can feed from me if you wish. I don’t want you to suffer any longer.” he offers like its the most natural thing in the world.

Still, you say nothing.

And then he murmurs your name, as soft as the flower petals brushing against your ankles.

“I don’t want to use you like that. I don’t want you to be a food source for me.” you grit your teeth, staring at the ground like you couldn’t be more ashamed, “I don’t want to be the monster the Land of Reason made me out to be.”

“You’re not. I give myself to you willingly, and I'll do it over and over again.” Blanc murmurs, hands slipping away from you.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, leaving his collarbone open to the nighttime breeze and your eyes.

“My love.” he opens his arms for you and his shirt slips off his shoulder, leaving his skin vulnerable—

“I give myself to you.”

And he pulls you into his chest, as he whispers words of love telling you that you can bite him, drink from him, take all that you need and that it will be okay because he’d give you everything if you asked for it, and that you changed his life for the better, you brought springtime’s flowers and winter’s shimmering ice and summer’s warm sunlight and autumn’s delicate, beautiful leaves to a life that was so repetitive and boring until you arrived—a life that belonged to the man you see before you but not anymore because its yours and it will always be yours.

Tears prick your eyes as you kiss his skin, worshiping each freckle and small scar you can reach. Your canines poke insistently at his skin and you ignore the urge for one, two, three, four, five seconds before your mouth opens and you bite down, hoping the small gasp that leaves his lips isn’t one of pain. You’re careful not to take too much but it tastes so good and who knew drinking from the one you loved could make you feel so happy and full.

Blanc looks up at the moon as you feed, happiness and adoration blurring his vision as he thinks about you, you who trusted him enough to bite him, to tell him who you were, you who stayed behind for him even though you could have left.

He stares up at the moon and sighs because he’s in love. He’s in love with you.

And after you’re done, after you pull away and lick the puncture marks to soothe them, after you press a dozen more kisses to his skin, Blanc still loves you. His blood is smeared around your mouth but he pulls you in anyway, kissing you with everything he has because you deserve nothing less than that.

And he loves you.

Over and over again, he loves you.

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be aging or how long you will have by his side, but he knows that if you will forever be his constant, he’ll come out okay in the end.

[freakywrites]

hello there, I’m unsure if you’re taking requests, but if you are might I request a Kanato Sakamaki x reader?

Maybe like headcannons of him in a relationship with a very caring, nurturing reader, or you could do the complete opposite, and make reader judgmental and cruel (kind of like Kanato). If reader was cruel, I feel like that would be a great way to get revenge against all the trauma Kanato’s caused. (Either one is good and you don’t even have to do this, I just really like Kanato (because he’s so deceptively adorable, even if he absolutely despises me/yui/reader) He and Azusa are my favorite Diabolik characters.)

Of course, you don’t have to do that and if you don’t want to do Kanato you could replace with one of the other Diabolik Lover’s characters. (Like the Mukami family or one of the other family names I can’t remember).

—just another anon 🌟

IM SO SORRY I JUST SAW YOUR ASK!

Also those two are my favs too! Anyways here ya go.

Hot and cold

Kanato Sakamaki x reader head canons

Warning: unedited

~~~~~~~

As warm as fresh blood

He likes it when you play with his hair as he lays on your lap.

He loves when you praise him and beg for him.

You calm him with soft whispers and tender kisses to his cheeks and head.

When you let him play with you, dancing you around to no music but just his hums.

He loves it when he thinks he’s in control.

Loves when you love him and only him.

He loves that you only have eyes for him to only look at him and nobody else.

“I know you’re upset, Kanato, but you’re doing so well. Just hold it in a little longer, and we’ll go, ok?” You said holding the man’s shaking hand. “but they’re so loud can’t we just go home? I’m tired!” He whines, and you lay your head on him before speaking. “you can’t keep getting absences, you know~ I’m here with you anyways” you said, rubbing circles on his arm and giving him a quick kiss on the back of his palm. “Fine but only because Teddy agrees with you” he pouts, and you giggle “thank you, Teddy, sounding considerate of Kanato.” You said cheerfully.

As cold as a corpse

He can’t help but worry when you ignore him.

He begs for you just to look at him to give him his attention.

But all he gets is a violent shove or kick.

He lays his head on your lap just for you to swat him away in disgust.

He would rather you hit or cut at him than you ignore him.

His angerly yells, turning to begs when he gets tired, then soon to sobs of desperate pleading just for you to acknowledge him.

He offers you his teddy just to get any reaction, but nothing seems to work.

“Look at me, look at me damn it!” Kanato yelled at you, and you still don’t budge “are you deaf why are you ignoring me?!” He said, stomping closer to you “hey hey!” He said sitting on the floor putting his hands on you knees and you glare down at him grabbing his hand and pushing them away from you “ugh get off your like a pathetic dog get away from me” you said turning away from him and his eyes began to water. “I-I I’m not pathetic! What did I do? Was it because I yelled at you? It was an accident” he began to spiral “please just hold me again. I don’t know what I did I’m…. I’m sorry” he mumbled, and you shuffled to look at him “say that again…” You spat, and his eyes lit up “Im sorry!” He said quickly, and you smiled and sighed “well if you are… that’ll be it” you said, rubbing his head.

You are back to warm, back to giving him kisses on his eyelids and cupping his face, apologizing for your actions, giving him the illusion of affection.

Because while you do love him, you love him more when he is desperate you love when he is wrapped around your fingers.

——————————

N/A

I didn’t know what to choose to I chose both a x reader where reader is toxic loves to bring him up high only to crash him down then repeat! Isn’t that fun!

Anyways don do that to ppl cuz it’s like crazy

Also I feel the only way to be cruel to Kanato is not violence but to give and take from him he seems like the person who gets used to affection so if u keep giving and taking he will soon adapt and become desperate for it probably like when you ignorea child or something. Sense to me, he is very childish.

Ok bye bye love yall XOXO 💋💋💕💕

[ninapi]

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ First Born❜ (Halloween Special)┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Being an older brother once more was beyond exhilarating for Choso, he never expected though to find love by his little brother's side, his pretty and kind childhood friend bringing a softness into his life he didn't know it was possible one Halloween night.

Word Count: 3243

Note: this is a Semi AU, meaning the characters are who they are in the series, yet the timeline doesn’t match the original story.

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Choso has been a big brother since he can remember, that’s his number one trait and the one he is more proud of in general.

Therefore, loosing his two younger brothers continues to sting to this day.

Gaining a ‘new brother’ or finding a ‘lost brother’ which ever you wanna call it, gave him a new sense of purpose, a new reason to live and continue growing as a person.

His number one flaw though, was how unemotional he was. 

To Yuuji, Choso was embarrassing. 

He never gets the jokes, more like he can’t even laugh on his own like if his face muscles were forever stiff, a spoon could get social cues better than him; he says the most embarrassing things at the worst timing too and this brings us to this moment.

Yuuji had been flirting with the girl that worked a part time at the donut shop close by for about a month. He would always stop by and buy even if it was just one donut to munch on his way to school just so he could see her smile for a couple of minutes; he even went as far as to ask for her number last time he was there; though today, Choso tagged along and was currently glaring at said beauty for getting ‘too close’ to his brother. “What is it that you want woman? I won’t let you get your smitten paws over my little brother, you hear me? You won’t ever understand how precious he is, must be protected at all cost.”

“Oh my god…just what do you think you’re doing?? Ruining my life?? Didn’t I tell you to stay outside with Fushiguro??” 

“Itadori-kun, I think your brother is right, I don’t think I can handle such a precious boy….” the girl couldn’t hold her laugh any longer, same thing as her co-workers who witnessed the scene.

“That’s it. I’m never taking you out again. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get her to even look at me??” Yuuji was so disheartened, he opted to sit down on the sidewalk, contemplating the meaning of life while hating on his new older brother.

“I…I was just trying to-“ 

“I know, I know…just trying to be a good older brother…But have you stopped for a second and think that maybe not everyone wants to hurt me? I’m strong enough to defend myself, a pretty little thing like her wouldn’t even dream of hurting anything but my heart…” he sniffs dramatically, burying his face on his hands.

“You can die immediately if someone hurts your heart, idiot…”

This was the last drop of patience within him, “NOT literally, OK? I don’t mean my internal organ, I mean the feelings side of the heart!!”

“That’s not in your heart but your brain. You can also die if someone hurts you there-“

“Just stop talking!!!” Megumi and Nobara were both laughing their asses off at their banter, truth is Nobara saw the girl flirt with at least four different guys in just a week, she had been trying to warn her friend about her, so it was actually a good thing having dense Choso around to break the spell she had on him; that didn’t make it any less funny though.

“Itadori don’t be so hard on him, he’s pouting again.”

“I am not doing such thing-“

“Yes you are, man…” Megumi let out a deep sigh, walking on the opposite direction wanting nothing to do with the loud display of idiocy in front of him.

“Hey Fushiguro! Where are you going? We still need to discuss our plans for the party!” Yuuji yelled after him a little too loud, causing Megumi to flinch and return just to shut him up. “There’s nothing to discuss…Just be there around 9PM, you have to wear a costume or they won’t let you in, those are the rules.”

“Did you choose one already? I never pegged you for someone who’d like halloween parties~” giggling, Nobara elbowed Yuuji on the ribs wanting him to team up with her to tease their friend.

“I bet he’ll wear something ridiculous, like one of those giant carrot costumes.” bursting out laughing, both held each other from collapsing on the ground imagining carrotgumi.

“For your information, I will go as a vampire…I found dubious objects in a closet in Gojo-sensei’s, I mean back in the house…so I brought them with me for this party. Not like I want to go or anything but Maki-san threaten to shave my head in my sleep if I didn’t go…”

“Bald carrotgumi….” after one more outburst of intense laughter, the team bullying ended for the best. “I need a costume, would you go buy one with me, Kugisaki?”

All this time Choso has been quietly observing the entire thing. He knows his brother literally just said he wouldn’t take him out with him ever again, but he really wanted to prove him he could do better, that he wasn’t an embarrassment and that he was the best older brother there was to have, this was his chance. “Guys…do you think…do you think I can come with you…?” 

“No, never, non, forget about it.”

“B-but…”

“Listen, you just ruined my life! How do you even think I would take you with me again?”

“Poor guy, just let him come, Itadori…he always brings the funniest of conversations out. I like him.” Choso perked up a little at the support he was getting, even if he knew all she wanted was to mock his brother, at least someone wanted him there.

“Oh c’mon….What if he ruins it again?” 

“Just leave (Y/N) in baby sitting duty. She likes lost causes…” shrugging she started making her way to the costume shop, both of them tagging along.

“(Y/N)? I mean yes she does take recycling to an intense level and saves stray cats, but this is…this is something else, Kugisaki…” Choso’s lip was quivering once more, not wanting to face rejection for a third time on the same day by the person he wishes to please the most.

“Ok then how about we do this…” leaning close to Yuuji’s ear she whispers her plan with the most mischievous grin anyone has ever seen in their lives. To this Yuuji laughs for what feels like hours, having to stop in his tracks to wipe his tears away and calm down. “Ok, ok let’s ask him…” going over to his older brother, Yuuji bats his eyelashes prettily up at him, “Nii-chan…you can go…if you go dressed as the carrot Fushiguro isn’t wearing…”

Choso just nodded eagerly, not fully understanding what he was getting himself into. 

“Also, I won’t let you follow me around, I wanna get a girl in my bed by tonight, and you can’t stop me. I’ll ask my best friend to look after you. Understood?” this definitely wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted bonding time with his brother, have a nice time, maybe drink one of those beers he introduced him to the other day, not having to stay behind away from the fun dressed as a commonly disliked vegetable…but it was the chance he was looking for to prove he could behave.

“Is that a yes? Or-?”

“Yes, I will go.” Nobara was on her phone browsing for carrot costumes, not long after running on her way to the shop.

This would be a long night..

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The night was young, every known sorcerer and their friends and family were invited to this party.

Yuuji chose to dress as werewolf, while Nobara went dressed as a sexy nurse.

Choso though…let’s just say the carrot outfit didn’t suit him that well…

Wanting to get rid of him as soon as possible, Yuuji stopped you right at the entrance with a big grin plastered on his face. “(Y/N) my darling! My bestie! The light that shines above us…!”

“What do you want now-“ he was being too obvious, he only acts this way when he wants either money or nasty favors.

“Have you met my brother yet?”

“Your what-? I’ve lived next door my entire life and I’ve never seen a brother of yours-“ covering your mouth almost instantly, he glared at you, trying to get you to play along.

“O-oh…yes your brother! You told me about him the other day. No, I haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet!” smiling on his direction, you walked over to him, taking both of his hands in yours.

“Hi! I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to finally meet you! By the way, what an adorable outfit you brought today! I wish I knew about them before, then we could have been two carrots instead of just one!” giggling at how good you were handling his worst nightmare, Yuuji sneaks away without you noticing; thing is, not only did you not notice, but neither did Choso, and that had never happen before.

“They also had tomatoes and an eggplant, but that one was too little, it would probably fit you though.” He nodded in thought, unable to figure out why the thought of you dressed like a tiny eggplant sounded so appealing. Was this why his brother wanted him to be a carrot? Did he actually look cute?

“I would have loved to be an eggplant! We could take a bunch of pictures, probably even win the costume contest!” your soft laughter brought a smile to his face, he’s never been treated this nicely before.

“What are you supposed to be though?” he eyed you from head to toe, making you blush. “I’m Godzilla~” you posed, letting out a cute little roar, his heart skipped a beat, cuteness has never been his thing but he could see the appeal of it now.

“I apologize, I do not know what that is, but it’s certainly cuter than an eggplant. They don’t make sounds...” his comment made you giggle giddily, why did Yuuji dislike him this much? He’s such a sweetheart…

“Hmm Godzilla is…a monster…he destroys cities and kicks buildings.” you tried your best to imitate it properly, earning a smile from him once more, making you feel accomplished.

“So like a curse? I’m half curse-” he looked at you with his eyes wide opened in realization.

“Nah, more like a cute big animal lost in a city full of ants.” he nods at this, before pointing to a table by the door. “They had animal shaped cookies in a bowl over there.” he didn’t know why but he felt the need to make you smile some more, to make you feel comfortable in his presence unlike the rest of his brother’s friends and seemed like you liked animals enough to dress like one.

“Do they? I bet they’re adorable. Would you like to eat some with me?” the way your eyes twinkled at this little piece of information made his stomach feel hollow, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, he kind of wanted to feel more of this, so he went over the table and poked all the cookies from the bowl until he was sure he’s gotten at least one of every single animal available in it. 

Megumi, who was sitting at the top of the stairs hiding from a drunk panda who was trying to get him to kiss his cousin, saw the entire scene unfold, and decided to intervene before Itadori ruined his moment if he caught him. “Choso…stop touching all the food just grab a handful she’ll like it anyways, trust me.” to his advice he nodded gratefully, making sure to grab some drinks as well.

“Here, I couldn’t find the elephant, I was sure I saw one when I went by that table earlier, apologies for not getting you the complete set. I got you some melon soda though, I hope you like it.” the back of his neck felt hot, he continued wondering why he wanted to please you this bad, is not like you were his little sister, not like he wanted you to be his sister- he wouldn’t be able to last a day before dying of cuteness overload.

“Don’t worry! I’m sure Mr.elephant found a nice home in someone else’s belly.” chuckling you grabbed a little bear cookie and pressed it to his lips, “Try it! It’s yumyum~” you danced happily at the taste, wanting to share the joy a good high quality cookie can bring to someone’s life.

To this he just gave out a short nod, getting the entire cookie into his mouth. This was all so new to him, was this why his brother kept insisting in taking a girl to his bed?

What would they even do there?

He would like to take you to his and eat elephant shaped cookies, maybe even talk a little, or watch a movie, he’s been really into them since his brother introduced him to horror films.

“Hey (Y/N) would you like to go to my room? It’s a bit far but we could walk there-“ before he could continue his sentence, a shoe came flying straight to his face, Megumi coming to pull him to the side, “I’m borrowing him for just a second (L/N), be right back.” 

He took Choso outside, away from prying eyes, a deep scowl on his face, “What on earth are you doing? You spend too much time with Itadori, he’s rubbing on you…”

“I thought you’re supposed to take nice girls to your bed…”

“I..ugh..WhAT? Who told you that? Never mind don’t answer…” letting out a long sigh he plops down on a bench prompting Choso to the same. “Look, man…it is true I guess, though the order is wrong. Remember how your brother talked to the same girl for months just to get her to like him?” nodding his head he was taking mental notes, Megumi rarely took his time to teach him anything, this must not go to waste.

“When you think a girl is nice or cute, pretty even. When she’s nice to you as well and you feel like you want more of her…” his nodding intensified, it was as if he was reading his mind, describing just how he was feeling that same moment.

“You have to treat her right, make nice things for her, be patient, don’t do anything impulsive. Girls are more delicate, you can’t be rough with them. Got it?”

“I knew it. I should have looked for that elephant cookie some more…” 

A rare smile appeared on Megumi’s face, Choso has been nothing but a pain to them when it doesn’t come to fighting, but he’s never seen this soft side of him, or maybe he had, just that Itadori always shuts him down unlike you.

“Yeah well, maybe next time you can buy her a bag, I’m sure the elephant will be there.” his eyes opened widely, he hadn’t thought about that, fantastic idea.

“You’re a great guy, Fushiguro, I appreciate your advise. I can be your older brother too, if you ever need one...” with a small smile on his face, Megumi walked away back to his room, he'd have enough of this party already.

“Go back to her, before someone steals her away~” running back inside, his heart came back to his body when he saw you patiently waiting for him inside, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I have returned. Fushiguro just told me we can find the elephant cookie if I get you a new pack of cookies. Would you like to go buy one with me?”

“Right now?” that smile of yours will end up causing him heart failure, he was sure of that now.

“Or later, when you have time, if you want that is…we can also go back for the eggplant dress, if you’re tired of being Godzilla.” It was pretty obvious to you by now that he was trying to get you out of this party, you weren’t what others would call a 'party animal’, you only went because your best friend called you over; the same best friend who’s been flirting with every single girl in the room and has not addressed you for the longest time.

“I think they sell them in the supermarket down the street, lets go~!” pulling him by his hand, you both walked in silence as none of you knew what to say.

“So, how is Yuuji as a younger brother? If he’s mean to you tell me, I will kick his ass…” you knew your bestie, he could be really sweet as much as he can be a real ass when he wants to be.

“He’s great. I wish we could get along better though…but it’s hard to know what he wants. I wished everyone would be happy with animal cookies…”

“I think it’s easy getting along with you though. You’re sweet and gentle, funny too.” Choso has never been complimented before, not like this at least…was this what his brother called ‘flirting’?

“I…well I think you are all those things too…nobody has ever treated me this nice before…” his comment managed to sadden you more than anything, stopping you on your tracks to place a hand on his cheek gently.

“Then how about we see each other some more? I need you to see how special you are.” your smile was so bright, so comforting…his chest ached but in a pleasant way, he kind of wanted to rip his own heart out just to see the chemical reaction occurring within his body in this very second, his blood even felt more powerful, he could kill Gojo Satoru right now, he was sure of it. But all he wanted was to count cookies with you while looking at the night sky.

“Can we? See each other again? I mean after the cookies...?”

“Of course! Lets do all sorts of things together! Have you ever been to a theme park? Maybe I can get the eggplant costume and we could both go dressed as vegetables, that’d be fun!” your arm wrapped around his as you walked towards the supermarket.

“I’ve never been to one, no.”

“Then we totally have to go! We could play some video games too! Oh and we definitely need to go to that new crepe place down town, I heard you need a reservation and all!”

“Why do you want to go with me to all those places?” he was honestly confused, he’s been facing so much rejection that this fuzzy feeling in his chest was starting to cause some concern.

“That’s what friends do, right? Besides, I think you’re really cute…maybe…we could…you know…one of those days we go out…only if you’d like of course…we could maybe say it’s a date?” you smiled nervously up at him, he’s never seen such beauty in his entire life, not even the drawing his little brother made for him when they were little was this pretty. “I would like that very much…”

Being the first born of four brothers had its benefits as much as it has its flaws, but tonight he was sure of one thing, he was glad of getting in his little brothers nerves enough to get him to dump him with the cutest girl his eyes had ever lay on.

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Masterlist

[a-casual-kpopfan]

Promise - Minju

The coveted sequel to Special.

Please enjoy this fic from us!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re nothing without me.”

“Admit it, you’re a fool for ditching me and choosing that girl.”

“Without me, you’re just worthless trash.”

“You couldn’t provide me with what I want. It’s always me who must do everything.”

“You’re useless.”

“Oppa!”

“You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless You’re useless.”

“Oppa!”

“Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless, Useless.”

“WOOJIN OPPA!”

With a loud gasp, you awoke from your slumber, sitting up on the bed. Your entire body covered in sweat as your lungs are working overtime to bring some, if any, air into your body. Your eyes are blurry, and your ears are ringing.

It takes a couple of minutes for you to calm down again. For your nerves to calm down and your brain to restore some functions to it after being rudely wake up by that… Dream. It’s better to call it a nightmare at this point.

You thought you handled it well. After the first few days of sobbing and mulling over, you gradually got over it. You thought Wonyoung doesn’t have a grip on your mind anymore. You thought you would be free again. But you were wrong. Two months later, and she still has her effects on you.

Her deception, laced with lies of affection and love, so deeply rooted in you, your heart, your mind. Like some kind of parasite, stubbornly alive despite being squashed many times. You’re never going to get rid of it entirely.

You feel your throat clogged up as tears seem to stream down your cheeks. Despite your promise to yourself that no tears would be shed for her anymore, you can’t help it. She was your everything. You did everything for her. But it wasn’t enough. Maybe you really are worthle-

“Woojin oppa…” You feel something, no someone embracing you tightly on your side, something soft, and warmth. In the haziness of your mind, you fail to remember something, that you are not alone, even in this moment of weakness.

“Was it a nightmare?” Minju’s voice is muffled, due to her head being buried in your shoulder. You can’t say anything. “Was it her?” She looks up to you, and you still avoid her gaze.

“It’s ok oppa, I’m here for you.” Her hug for you seems tighter as you lean more into her, your arms somehow found their way around her waist.  Her hands find their way onto your back, stroking it gently. Usually, you would be the one giving out comfort, and not the one receiving it. But it feels nice. You feel yourself relaxed against her touch.

“She’s gone, and she won’t hurt you anymore.” She whispers into your ears. “Don’t worry, it’s my time to protect you now, for all the times that you have protected me before.”

She’s warm.

“You’re safe with me.”

So warm.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know what you are thinking about, and everything is not true. You are worthy. You are good, so very good to everyone around you, especially me.”

So very warm.

“You’ve always made me happy, and I love that about you.” You can hear the slight tremble in her voice “What she did to you was wrong and cruel, and I will never, ever hurt you.” You feel her lips on your temple as you nuzzle ever so closer to her, your big frame enveloping her lithe, petite frame. Yet, you’re the one being comforted. “I love you, and don’t you ever forget that for a single moment.”

You feel her body fall back onto the bed, and instead of resisting her, you allow yourself to fall on top of her as well, your face nuzzles into her shoulder, your arms still hugging her tightly while hers just gently caress your shoulder and back.

“You mean the world to me.” You feel her whisper again, feeling her soft breath hitting your earlobe, followed by a kiss on it.

“I cherish every little moment with you.” Another kiss on your neck. You start to feel drowsy.

“You’re everything I ever wanted.” Another one on your temple. You can’t fight the sleepiness.

“I love you.” You drift off into peaceful sleep inside of her embrace. With Minju humming triumphantly with her successful attempt at luring you back to sleep with her.

“I really, really love you so much, Woojin-ah.” She tilts your head towards hers for a better look. You look so peaceful, so soft. “And I promise I’ll wait for you however long it takes.” She plants a soft kiss onto your lips, unbeknownst to your sleeping self, before joining you in dreamland shortly afterwards.

-----

It’s been a few months since you and Wonyoung broke up.

Two months to be exact.

It’s been going well for you, mostly.

First of all, the barista/owner of your old café haunt has been gracious enough to lend you the upper floor of his café as your temporary shelter until you find a new apartment. Despite Minju’s constant nagging about how you should move in with her because it was your old apartment that she is living in and all.

You gently turned her down. You need time to yourself, to process all the complicated feelings you had with Wonyoung back then before you’re ready to give Minju a chance again. Thankfully for you, she backed down.

For now at least.

Second order of business, you need a job. As embarrassing as it is, you used to live off Wonyoung’s money due to you essentially being a ‘househusband”. Now that you’re living alone again, you need to earn your own money. Once again, Minju was eager to offer you a new job: her own personal manager. Given that you were Iz*One’s manager before, you already had all the knowledge and experience needed.

Despite your reluctance in this one, Minju wasn’t going to back down for this one, and dragged you to her agency, insisting that you took the interview. It didn’t take long for the result to come back, and you officially became her new manager.

Even though you are kind of annoyed by this, you are still thankful for this, because having a job allows you to be financially independent, and it also helps you distract yourself from your own turmoil.

See, the thing about Wonyoung is, she was your first love. And first loves are often hard to forget, not to mention you were deeply, deeply in love with her. Like an ancient tree with its roots deep in the earth. Your love for Wonyoung ran deep, deep inside your soul. Everything you do, everywhere you go, you are always reminded of her. Of her smile, her touch, her voice. Which made her act of betrayal stung so much more.

Therefore, you’d rather spend your time doing something, anything at all, than to be left alone with your thoughts, and let all your inner demons consume you again.

Thankfully, there was no shortage of work for you, since Minju is very popular, with her appearance as the Music Core MC, her appearance on dramas, etc. Soon, you found yourself swarmed with so much work that you didn’t even have time to rest properly. But you honestly didn’t mind.

More work equals more time not by yourself, and more time not thinking about Wonyoung. And when you had some free time for yourself, you hit the dojo again, trying your best to sharpen your old instincts. You might need it, or not, but it’s better than sitting alone with your own demons.

And so, you buried yourself in your work, familiarizing yourself in the role of the manager again, making sure Minju stays in top health and shape, organizing her schedules and such. Though it wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.

It was like, slipping on a pair of shoes that you haven’t worn in years, thinking that it doesn’t fit you anymore, and yet, your feet slip into it seamlessly. It didn’t take long for you to memorize her schedules, to resume the role of her ��mother’, nagging and making sure she wasn’t late and taking care of her. It was like you never quit.

With that, two months went by in a flash, and you, surprisingly enough, have never thought much about Wonyoung. You were glad that somehow, you had escaped her. It just so happens that Minju got a day off yesterday, so you both decided to hang out like the old days, back when things were so simple. Both of you had a blast of a time together, despite all you did was staying at Minju’s apartment playing games and watching Netflix.

All was fun and well, until last night.

You thought you escaped from her. You didn’t. Your work just distracted you, not released you from her clutches.

You usually don’t dream much. That was because you were always too tired when you go to sleep that you just fall into deep sleep.

You might have confronted her and escaped her chains in a physical way. But your mind, and your heart refuse to let you off easily.

And that brings you to right now, the next morning. Waking up only to find yourself being embraced by Minju.

God, you want to bury yourself in a ditch right now. Remembering back to how pathetic you were last night; you feel your cheeks heat up. You’re supposed to be the older, wiser one. How did you show such a pathetic state of yourself to her?

You try to free yourself from Minju’s surprisingly strong hug to no avail. When did she get so strong? You think to yourself. She starts to stir a bit from your struggling, her response being hugging you tighter and mumble “5 more minutes….”

Despite how much you want to get up from this embarrassing situation, you don’t have the heart to wake the girl up, not when she’s been working so hard for the past month.

“Alright, 5 more minutes…” you eventually relax in her embrace, your struggle stop as you just give in to your fate.

“Actually…she is quite comfy…” Unconsciously, you find yourself relaxing more than you should have, and somehow, ends up falling back to sleep again.

-----

“Oppa…”

“Oppa, wakey, wakey!”

“…5 more minutes”

“It’s already close to noon oppa~”

Your eyes open immediately with that, springing up on the bed with a confused face, looking around, meeting Minju’s smiling face on your right side.

“Morning, sleeping beauty~” she teases “You sleep well.”

A quick glance at the clock tells you that it is indeed 11:00 AM, close to noon. Groaning, you hide your face behind your hands “Why didn’t you wake me up…”

“Well, we still have today’s off, and you look so comfy sleeping, I want to admire your features a bit more~” She once again takes her chance of teasing you, much to your embarrassment.

 “Kkura’s been rubbing off you huh.” You deadpan at her. “Hehe~”

Before the conversation can continue, you hear rumbles coming from both of your stomachs, with Minju clutching hers embarrassedly. Holding in a chuckle, you ask “Haven’t eaten yet?”

She shakes her head. “No, I wanted to wait for you.” Her answer unconsciously bring a smile to your face. “Aigo, just wake me up next time, ok?” you pat her head gently. “Give me a few minutes to wash up then I’ll prepare some food for us.” With that, you stand up and leave the bedroom and Minju behind as you go on with your usual routine. Unbeknownst to you, however….

“Next time, huh…” Minju giggles softly to herself, her cheek burning up slightly. “I like the sound of that….”

After a few moments, you and Minju are now sitting at the table, enjoying a quick brunch that you whipped up from whatever’s left in her fridge. “You need to buy more groceries, Minju-ah” you say while munching on your food. “Maybe we can do it later?” she suggests “Sounds good to me.”

“How about we buy some snacks as well? For on the way to schedules?” You nod as well. “I was going to buy them soon, thanks for reminding me.” “How about moving in with me?”

“Sounds go-” You stop midway, turning your head to look at Minju’s ‘angelic’ smile. “You almost got me there, not going to lie, but the answer is still no.”

“But why not?” she pouts. “This technically is still your old apartment.”

“But with your name on it.” “

But I didn’t change any decorations inside it-”

“But you’re paying the rent.”

“We can share the rent.”

Minju is relentless in making sure you agree to her.

“Minmin, I thought we talked about this before.” You turn to look at her. “But, last night….” She pouts, looking down onto her food plate. You choke slightly when she mentioned it. “It was just a one-time thing, Minmin.”

“But you were crying too, and you never cried in front of us…” She looks up at you with a saddening look. “You, you don’t have to be tough anymore…” Her hand reaches up for your face, while you look away in shame, trying to avoid her gaze. “I’m not her, Woojin-ah, I would never hurt you-”

The moment that you two are sharing is interrupted with a ringtone coming from your phone, and you don’t waste this chance. “Let’s talk about this later, Minmin-ah.” You then quickly grab your phone and walk out of the kitchen, taking the call and once again leaving Minju alone behind in the kitchen.

She could only sigh, knowing she was too hasty. But your broken state last night saddens her greatly, and she doesn’t want you to go through it alone. What would you do if she wasn’t there last night to comfort you? “No worries, let’s just, take it slow.” She mumbles to herself. “He needs his time, and I can wait for however long he needs.”

-----

Another month has passed since your little incident with Minju.

You still struggle with your deep-rooted feelings about Wonyoung, and that nightmare seems to have opened the dam for you. Every waking moment, every sleeping hour, Wonyoung found her way sneaking into your mind like a snake. Unfortunately, being an idol manager means that you frequently visit places that Wonyoung can also visit for her work. You’ve been lucky enough to not to see her for the past months, but once again, she appears right in front of you.

The day started out normally, you and Minju woke up early for some shootings, which carried on way too late into the day, and before you know it, you’re driving her to Music Core for her MC duties. Usually, you don’t really check up on which groups are performing since it doesn’t really mattered to you. But once you turn into the parking lot, you spot an oh so familiar figure, entering the building with her groupmates.

“Shit.” You unconsciously swear to yourself, earning a snicker from Minju. “And you said I wasn’t allowed to swear at studios.”

“I don’t have an image to maintain, but you do, lady.” You roll your eyes, waiting until Wonyoung and her groupmates enter the building completely to park the van.

And so, you proceed with the usual things, just with a touch more alert in order to avoid Wonyoung. Minju seems to be confused by your actions, which only lasts until she has to introduce and shortly interview Wonyoung and the IVE members. From her waiting room, you can sees her expression clearly on the TV. A mixture of realization and anger, hidden underneath a layer of professionalism, which you let out a sigh of relief. Minju was never the best at concealing her emotions, and so you were worried you might have exploded in anger right then and there. Thank God for her professionalism.

Everything is going smoothly right now. Minju is doing her job dutifully, and you have somehow managed to avoid IVE-

“Woojin oppa?” You can clearly hear Yujin’s voice behind you, followed by her footsteps. So, you do anything a sensible person would do. You pretend you didn’t hear her and just walk away. “Ah, Woojin oppa?!” You can hear her confused voice, but you have already sprinted down the hallway, away from her eyes.

Arriving back at the waiting room, your heart starts to beat loudly even though it was a short run. You are afraid of facing Wonyoung again. All the bravado from the last time you met her has already faded away. You don’t have the strength to meet her again, and you don’t want to.

And so, the rest of your time is filled with anxiety masked by a professional poker face, which managed to fool the staff. But not Minju though, you can feel her glance on you all the time when she returns to the waiting room. But she doesn’t say anything, thank God for that.

You keep calm all the way until you walk out to the van with Minju. You’ve gone out of your way to ask Minju to leave a bit late with you, just for the IVE members to leave before you. Surely, you wouldn’t meet her, right?

“Oppa?”

.

.

.

As always, she somehow, always manages to find you at your most vulnerable to strike at you. You intend to ignore her call, and keep walking to the van with Minju, until you hear quick footsteps, and feel your shirt being tugged back.

“Yah, it’s rude to ignore others when they call you, Woojin oppa.”

With a sigh, you turn around to see all the members of IVE, Wonyoung included, standing there, with Yujin being the one tugging your shirt.

Minju also turns around, her face turns from a blank state into a happy expression, instantly switching on her idol mode as she greets the others.

“So, what do you guys need?” You try your best to hide the tremble in your voice, but that in turn makes you sound cold to the girls, with all of them flinching at your attitude. Maybe that’s what you need right now, a firm attitude.

“Why are you like this, oppa?” Gaeul asks “Why are you acting like this?” She turns at you, fuming. “Just because you guys have a disagreement, you’re treating us like this?” She is almost shouting at you.

Your mind is thrown into a loop at the word ‘disagreement’. Disagreement? When did you have a disagreement with her? You loved her with all your heart. You devoted everything to her. Your job.

Your connections.

Your relationships.

Everything.

All in order to devote yourself fully to her. And what did she do? She cheated behind your back, with another male idol that you didn’t even bother to remember, and treated you like you were a mere toy to her. And all she said was ‘disagreement’?

Suddenly, you feel so, so stupid for still having feelings for her. Everything she did to you, every little pain and neglect she inflicted, only giving you enough affection to keep you at her arm’s length, like a pet. Your mind, for the first time in months, feels refreshed, and free. Maybe it’s time you stopped wallowing in your grief. She doesn’t deserve your love. Not anymore.

“… And here I thought you were worthy for her. You’re just as useless and worthless as every other guy.” It seems like, while you were zoning out, Gaeul doesn’t stop spewing insults at you, with the other members agreeing with her, and Wonyoung just standing there, not saying anything and watching the scene.

Before you’re about to say something, Minju beat you to it. She steps forwards and gives Gaeul a hard slap to the surprise of everyone here, you included.

“Worthless? Useless? Don’t talk like you know him well. You don’t know anything about him at all.” Minju looks livid. “A disagreement?” She scoffs “What she did to him is just ‘a disagreement’ to her? Wow, and here I thought she couldn’t be any worse.”

She then glares at Gaeul who is holding her cheek in shock “Let me ask you this. You say that he is worthless and useless, right? Then who was the one that supplied you guys with foods and drinks even with encouragement even when it’s not even his job to do so?”

The IVE members look at each other, seems like Minju’s words hold a degree of truth in it. “And let me guess, he accompanied you guys when asked to, cooked for everyone, even listened to their ranting and gave advice, was I right?” The other members look down in guilt and shame. “Was I right?” they nod at her words.

“I don’t even need to be there to know about it, because that’s just how he is. He cares, even when he doesn’t need to. He goes out of his way to make sure that everyone is well, even though it wasn’t supposed to be his job.” Her voice goes soft at the mention of you. Seemingly forgetting that you are standing right next to her. Though you are so shocked that words seem to stick in your throat.

“He really did.” Yujin lets out a chuckle, reminiscing of her Iz*One days. “He really did go out of his way for us.”

“And so, what did your precious Wony do to him?” Minju’s voice turns angry again. “She-” “Minmin, I think this is enough.” Thankfully, you find your voice again and stop Minju in time before she can say anything that she might regret later. “But!”

“Not buts, that’s enough.” Rarely have you used your serious tone against her, but today is an exception, not just for Wonyoung, but also for herself as well.

“Oppa!” Wonyoung looks at you with sparkles in her eyes, seemingly thinking that you’ve forgiven her. How ridiculous

“Wonyoung-ssi” The moment she hears you use formal speech along with your serious, cold tone, her pipe dream shatters as she is dragged back to reality. “I remember telling you that you should stay far, far away from me.” You firmly look at her. “Did you think I was joking?” Your eyes turn cold, so very cold, to the point that Wonyoung starts shivering.

“And, to answer your question.” You turn to Gaeul. “It wasn’t just a disagreement between us. She betrayed my trust, so we broke up. End of story.” You hate to admit it, but when shocked look on IVE members as they look at you, then back at Wonyoung, and seeing the look on her face, you feel a tiny bit vindicated.

“So, if that’s out of the way, I have an idol to manage, so I’ll be going first.” With your professionalism, you flash a smile before guiding Minju back to the van.

“I hope that satisfy you?” You chuckle lightly at Minju, to which she giggles back “I would prefer something a bit heavier.” Then she looks behind her back, seeing Wonyoung being surrounded by her members, all having shocked/angry looks on their faces as they ask her questions. “But I think this is enough punishment for her.” She smiles back beautifully at you. You pat her head in response, like the good old days.

As Minju turns back to the van, she notices a silhouette approaching both. “Oppa!” By reflex, she yells out, and thankfully, you react just in time to push her inside of the van before you feel something sharp cut through your left shoulder, with you narrowly manage to dodge it sideway, with just a cut on your shoulder.

“Damn it.” A familiar voice enters your ears as you look back at your assailant. Dressed in a full black outfit and hoodie with mask, you can’t even see the person’s face, but you don’t need to, his voice is already enough for you.

“Stand still!” the assailant lunges for you again with a knife in reverse grip on his right hand, his arm outstretched upwards, ready for a swing motion. Instead of dodging, this time you actively push forwards to him, your head tune out the screams from Minju and the other girls as you get into very close to the assailant, blocking his raised arm with your left forearm before bashing it into the van, knocking the knife off.

With a groan, the assailant tries to back off, but is unsuccessful as his right wrist is held firmly, giving you a chance to unleash a kick into his abdomen, and one onto his chin, knocking him back into the van, then down onto the ground.

Before the assailant gets the chance to recover, you move his wrist behind his back and use your knee to press down on it, forcing him to lay on his stomach. “Now, should I call the police?” You smile, but your knee applies more force onto his left hand, causing him to yell in pain.

Seemingly trying to hide his identity, the assailant does not even dare to move an inch. You then glance back at Wonyoung, and the fearful look on her face is enough to tell him that she didn’t plan this.

“O-oppa…” You hear Minju’s trembling voice “Your shoulder….” Ah, right, the bleeding shoulder. “Tis but a scratch.” You try to lighten the mood… But with horrible, horrible timing as with a glance, you can clearly see that Minju is not amused in the slightest.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, just give me a few moments.” You smile back at her before looking down at the assailant, your voice turns icy cold as you lower yourself in order to whisper in his ears, just enough for you and him.

“Listen here you fucker. I don’t care what your current relationship with Wonyoung is, but you better thank her for this, because the only reason I’m not exposing you, is because I’m doing her one last favor, got it?” The trembling assailant nods silently.

“Good, but I can’t let you go without a punishment.” You pull the man up straight, looking straight into his eyes before pushing him back. His eyes widen just enough to catch you spinning your body, your right leg swinging at him before something impacts right onto his left temple, and he is knocked out cold instantly, face planting onto the ground.

“I should call the police…” You contemplate, looking at the knocked-out man, then at the shivering IVE members, especially Wonyoung.

Despite how much you despise her and her methods of manipulating you, you can’t find it in your heart to destroy the career that she worked so hard to build up.

“One last favor then.” You say, mostly to yourself, before heading back to the van to comfort a frightened Minju and to take her home safely. Wonyoung now just a distant thought to him.

-----

“Ow, ow, ow, Minmin-ah, please go easy on me!”

Moments later, here you are, back at Minju’s house, trying to patch yourself up, before Minju vehemently refuses to let you do so, insisting that she does it for you. While you know that she means well, she…let’s just say she is quite new to this.

Minju utters a small apology before focusing back onto her work, with you just glancing at her focus face. Usually, her face is always smiling and laughing, but to see her serious face like this…It’s been a while since you’ve last seen it. “You don’t have to force yourself you know; I can do it myself just fine.”

“It’s the least I can do for you though…” You almost didn’t catch her, her voice barely over a whisper at this point. “Minmin?” You look at her, but she doesn’t look back. “Talk to me, what’s on your mind?”

“…You got hurt because of me.” She keeps looking down onto her hands, fiddling with the bandages. You want to say something, but you feel like you should let Minju let it all out. “That guy…he was her guy, right? I saw the look you had back then.”

Your eyes train on her features as she fidgets, looking at anywhere but you. “Why didn’t you call the cops?” You can see her trembling slightly. “Do you still have feelings for her?” Despite her face looking down, you can see her biting her lower lips, possibly to prevent tears from falling.

“Look Minmin.” You try to call for her attention to no avail. “Minju-ah.” Gently, you place both your hands on her cheeks, tilting her head upwards to look at you. And exactly as you predicted, her eyes are red and watery, with tears threatening to spill out. “Aigo, don’t cry, I’m sorry for I make you misunderstand something.” Both your thumbs gently wipe away her tears.

“First of all, we don’t know if he was aiming for you, or for me. Your guess is as good as mine.” You then pat her head. “But, as your manager, my priority is to keep you safe, so I did just that. And I’m still going to keep you safe from now on.”

“Now, about Wonyoung….” You take a few minutes, trying to think of the right words to say, while Minju looks at you almost expectantly. “If I say that I don’t have any feelings left for her, it would be a lie.” You can see Minju’s mood dampens even further, even though she isn’t trying to show it.

“It’s hard to forget your first love, and not to mention that I used to love her so, so much.”  You let out a defeated sigh. “But what I did for her, wasn’t because I still have feelings for her.” Minju looks at you with an almost confused expression. “I didn’t have the heart to ruin the career that she has built up for so long, way back from her time in Iz*One with you guys.” She just nods at you, her gaze looking down, seemingly not very convinced but almost resigned.

“Minju-ah, listen to me.” Her gaze is now back up to you, and you can see the look of resignation on her face. “It might be true that I still have some feelings for Wonyoung left.” You then take her hands into yours, raising them up to your face and planting a soft kiss onto her back hand. “But would you be willing to help me erase her from my mind?”

You can see the entire emotional process projected onto her face. First, the confusion, then the realization hit, before the tears of happiness and joy fill her eyes yet again and she is looking at you with expectant eyes, hoping that you will confirm what she is thinking in her head. Good lord, how did she even manage to become an idol when her emotions were laid bare like this? Or maybe you, she doesn’t lay it bare, but you’re the exception.

“I’m sorry for making you wait for so long, would you-” “Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!” She engulfs you into a bearhug, like if she were to loosen it, she would lose you completely. You can feel your shirt wetting from her tears as she silently sobs into it.

Is it too fast for you two to get together, just when you just broke up 2 months ago, and you still have some feelings for your ex? Probably. Besides the obvious guilt you have for making her wait for you, you’re not doing this because you pity her.

It’s because, despite the short amount of time that you escaped from Wonyoung. Minju somehow has found her own way into your heart, navigating the cracks and broken pieces left by Wonyoung, and embracing you fully for who you truly are. She was willing to wait for you, for starters, until you feel like you’re comfortable again. Despite her insistence at you moving in with her, she never pushed it past the line.

Everything she did, she did it with you in her mind. Ever since childhood, she has always shared with you everything she did that day. Even now, she still texts you about her daily stuff, things she found funny and silly. You are the first person she turns to.

It’s not like you never had any feelings for her. She was your childhood friend, your closest friend. Sooner or later, you’re going to catch some feelings for her. You cared for her, still do. But somewhere along the act of you as her ‘brother’, you forgot your true feelings, and disillusioned yourself, thinking you shouldn’t date her. And Minju has somehow broken past even that.

How can you not catch feelings for her again, when she cradled you so tenderly in that one night? When she openly accepts and comforts you in your lowest moments, something that only your parents have done for you? When she whispered those three words that you craved so desperately, but were deprived of by Wonyoung?

So lost in your own thoughts, you don’t even notice Minju calling you, until you feel something soft against your lips, then you wake up from your thoughts, seeing Minju with a tender smile on her face.

“What were you thinking about?”

“About you.”

Your answer satisfies her greatly, as she leans in for another soft kiss, one that you reciprocate. “I love you, Woojin-ah, and I’ll make sure that you’ll say it back to me someday.” Even without saying anything, she still reads you like a book. But instead of a frown, she smiles brightly. “I’ll replace all those awful memories with happy times between you and me, so you won’t ever have to feel sad about her again.”

You can’t help but chuckle at her words. “Promise?” You hold up your pinky, to which she hooks it with her own, a bright smile on her face.

“Promise.”

[shentheauthor]

I cannot resist, but headcanons on the Harbingers' types? Like what they would like in a S/O? 🤭

Crabsolutely, friend

Gender neutral s/o, no content warnings

Pierro:

Someone calm

Preferably smart too

Like someone he can play chess with

And just drink tea quietly with

This man needs some peace in his life lmao

Please braid his hair, he is touch starved and needs affection, but he’s old and he can’t say it out loud

Capitano:

Someone who can protect themself

He will def protect you, but when he isn’t there, he wants to know you’ll be safe

Also, he would love a sparring partner as well as a romantic one

If you can keep up with him, color him impressed

I also feel like he isn’t much of a talker, so if you’re cool with just hanging out in silence, he will be drawn to you

Dottore:

A test subject /j

It would actually probably start out that way 😭😭

If you can hold an intelligent conversation and keep him amused, tho, he will stop trying to experiment on you

He will explode with joy if you ask him about his work

And if you listen and remember what he says? Whipped

Basically a good listener and someone who doesn’t mind his psychopathic tendencies lmao

Hell if you’re a bit of a murderous gremlin yourself, he’ll be even more into you

Bc then you can do horrible fucked up experiments ✨together✨

Columbina:

Someone cute who can sing duets with her

She wouldn’t mind whether you’re loud or quiet

She can put up with both

She isn’t super picky about partners, but a good singing voice is a green flag for her

She’d already be intrigued if you aren’t afraid of her, but if you don’t underestimate her either, you’ve definitely got an interested columbina on your hands

Arlecchino:

Probably someone interested in her work

She has high standards tho

Good listener, can cook, willing to adjust your schedule for her, good with kids, but also willing to harshly punish subordinates, etc

She wants someone like her

But maybe a bit nicer lmao

Pulcinella:

Like Pierro, he prefers quiet people

Someone willing to help him deal with stress without adding onto that stress

Also he wants someone good with kids

He will bring his partner with him to visit family and friends, so a social person is better

Just someone he can be quietly domestic and soft with

Gilf moment Fr

Scaramouche

I’m never gonna stop including him and Signora

Anyway tho, he wants someone quiet, but he will actually be somewhat pleasantly surprised if you talk back to him

You’d have to be careful, but he will like you if you can keep up with his rudeness and clap back without fear

Bonus points if you’re strong. He doesn’t want to “coddle” his partner, so he wants someone who can take care of themself

He would also want someone who can read him well. Understanding his moods is a must.

It’s hard to get him to open up, but he would really want someone willing to love him completely without leaving him

Abandonment issues go brrr

Sandrone:

A puppet

Like literally

But if she had to choose a partner who is a normal human, she would want someone who doesn’t care if she’s possessive

She is kind of a yandere, so if you’re into that, she is into you

Bonus points if you’re willing to cook for her

She forgets to eat a lot, and someone who takes care of her would be appreciated

Also, if you’re interested in her work

The way to an autistic’s heart is through the special interest /srs

Signora:

Someone who will love her unconditionally

Someone who doesn’t treat her like a monster

Someone who isn’t afraid of her

She would also love someone strong and smart

Preferably witty too

Like if she can have a healthy banter with you

Her type is Rostam, but if you aren’t Rostam, that’s ok

A strong and protective partner is perfect for her

She can take care of herself just fine, but the feeling of being cared about is unmatched

I miss her so much raaaahhhh

Pantalone:

He would want someone who lets him spoil them

Genuinely

He will lavish you with gifts if you will let him

ALSO, intelligence is a must

He doesn’t have patience for dull conversation

If finances bore you, he actually doesn’t mind

He knows everyone is different

As long as you don’t steal from him, he won’t care

Someone who cares enough to help him de-stress after work is a green flag

He would also love it if you can cook or sew, and is actually open to learning your hobbies if they interest him

Please play board games with him, he’d be so happy

Also he wants a good listener who will hear him ramble without complaining

Tartaglia:

Do you like kids?

Are you open to learning to cook?

Can you spar with him and provide a challenge?

If the answer to all of these questions is “yes,” congrats, you are exactly his type

He doesn’t care much about looks, he really just wants someone who’s fun and loves his family

Extroverts are perfect for him

He would prefer a partner who’s okay with drinking, bc Snezhnaya go brrr (literally)

But if you aren’t comfortable with that, that’s okay

Definitely the most fun to be with if you’re outgoing, so he would want you to be adventurous too

He would also like talkative people, bc then he can listen to you ramble <3

Rule #1 tho: don’t be afraid of him. Treat him like a person, not a weapon

He doesn’t mind being a weapon, but if his partner is soft with him and doesn’t demand anything, that is ideal

I love him sm

I love doing these lmao. It’s kinda cringe, but it’s self indulgent and I like exploring their characters like this

I’m probably gonna create an ask blog specifically for this sometime soon

[askinkiskarma]

Ok, so I need to get this off my chest because it’s been weighing heavily on my mind. I’ve never properly addressed this because I honestly think it’s not something that deserves the traffic, but my entire feed has been overwhelmed with negativity and it’s genuinely making me want to not be on here anymore.

1. I age up my characters. No, that absolutely does not make me a paedophile. You don’t like it, the door’s right there, the block button’s easily accessible, i tag my fics, you can block tags, there’s so many things you can do.

2. Throwing words with such horrible and serious connotations around as a hyperbole is not quirky and doesn’t make you interesting, it makes you an asshole who diminishes and undermines real world problems to make yourself feel better about literally the most inane of non-problems.

3. If you have time to give a shit about someone you don’t know on the internet who finds joy in some artistic relief, you haVE TOO MUCH TIME!!! I’m curious how many of you actually have any concern or involvement in anything regarding actual paedophilia, that concerns actual kids, actual real life people.

4. If you do indeed believe that someone who ages up a literal fictional tall blue alien is a “paedophile”, you genuinely, genuinely need to go out and touch some grass, BUT what absolutely KILLS me is the absolute unhinged hypocrisy: you want to think you’re better than me, you denounce my work publicly, and then FOLLOW ME and reblog my Jake smut (?!???!?). Like this actually blows my mind. So in your eyes, i am the scum of the earth, i deserve to die and go to jail cause i am “sexualising minors”, but THEN you’re ok with it when you get off to my smut that you do agree with. HOW?! You must be so flexible cause that’s some impressive mental acrobatics. Congrats!!!

5. YOU CANNOT PICK AND CHOOSE WHAT YOU’RE MORALLY SUPERIOR ABOUT!!! Pls get that through your head. If you can forgive “deviant” behaviour when you’re horny and need a Jake fic to get yourself off to, honey baby, you’re just as bad, cause you’re proving you’re willing to bend your morals for your own pleasure and selfish needs. Like PLEASE BE FOR FUCKING REAL!!!

6. This is for my readers and readers of fics in general - if you like what we write, please, please show it. I have seen/talked to several of my mutuals who want to take a step back because of so much negativity that outweighs the support at the moment. If you want to keep being able to enjoy this content, please show your favourite writers some love, especially at this time.

7. And for my mutuals/besties, please, please don’t get discouraged. I know it’s hard, and it sucks, and it’s so disheartening, but i am here to talk and here to stay, and we can get through this together. It would hurt me so badly to see genuinely talented, beautiful, creative, kind people be driven away by some lowlives with nothing better to do than bully people. Stay strong and know I’m always here for you.

This is the first and last time i will be addressing this. I will not be engaging with these people anymore, and i will be using the block button incredibly liberally going forward. Remember you’re responsible for curating your online experience. You don’t like/agree with something, FUCKING BLOCK ME. I BEG YOU.

That’s all. Stay safe and good luck, my loves. I love you. Xoxoxox

[missmyloko]

Hi Justine,

I had an encounter with a Japanese person who hates the geisha world because of Kiyoha’s tweets, and I feel I could have responded better.

Is it ok to ask your opinion/advice? If not, please feel free to ignore my ask and I’ll understand.

I was at a reading group and I’m reading Arai Mameji’s autobiography. When I shared what I was reading, the Japanese person in our group said she hates the geisha world because they sell young girls to powerful men. I said that isn’t true, not anymore at least, and then she brought up Kiyoha’s tweets.

I got really thrown off and wasn’t sure what to say. I said I did get really upset when that news came out, and that it’s hard when you’re in an industry where the clients include politicians and rich, powerful men.

But I also said I’ve been to maiko events where the owner of the restaurant was there at all times, the guests were a mix of men and women, and the maiko were perfectly safe.

I also said that at least thanks to Kiyoha’s tweets, girls who decide to become maiko will do so with open eyes.

The facilitator of the group asked me what do I like about maiko, and I was so thrown that I couldn’t articulate it properly. I said I admire how hard they work to perfect their craft, and i love the beautiful kimono they wear. But when I expounded on how hard they work, I realized I was describing an environment that makes it easy to cover up abuse—no cellphones, only seeing their families at New Year, so I felt awkward again.

So I left that reading group with an icky feeling, and I also felt misunderstood. Though the facilitator was still nice and said he hoped to see me next time.

So, if I have a similar encounter, how can I respond without feeling like I’m defending abuse? 😰

Their environment is traditional, which can make it seem like it's an "easy" place to hide abuse, but that same environment is one that looks out for its own above all, which makes it much safer than one would think. Being in the karyukai really is like being in a secret club, whether you're a geimaiko or a customer you're vetted thoroughly before you enter, and if you go against the grain you're shown the door. It's also a world run by women who truly treat their charges like their own daughters (in 99% of cases anyway), so you know that they don't take abuse or the accusation of abuse laying down. The biggest thing to remember is that, unlike in the past, girls are free to choose the life of a geimaiko and can also leave at anytime without the fear of repercussions, so no one is going into the profession as a slave or has to endure any abuse of any kind. The girls who do this kind of hard work (and it is hard, which is why it's so admirable) are dedicated to the arts and improving themselves, which makes them such bosses. The girls who enter just to wear pretty kimono are quickly weeded out as they can't keep up with the training, but those who triumph have names that are known the world over. As to why you probably admire geimaiko, that's a fairly easy thing to articulate once you sit down and realize what they do. These women buck social norms as they say "no" to traditional gender roles and become the ones who wield power over men. They study the arts that they want, keep schedules that are pretty steady (and can then make their own schedules when they become jimae), and eventually buy whatever they want (and even when they live at the okiya they pretty much want for not). Not only that, but they are power brokers and diplomats for some of the most powerful people on the planet. It takes a special kind of strength to be a geimaiko, and those who succeed in living that life are bad asses. I mean, where else can you be a single mother earning a six figure salary, wear the best clothing, and meet people from across the globe on a nightly basis? In a society where traditional gender norms shape so much of what people can and can't do, geimaiko basically say "screw that" to everything. What happened to Kiyoha was horrible and can't be ignored, which is why the karyukai is starting to take action against that kind of behavior happening again. The good eggs look out for their own, like the events that you've gone to, and this is true in the vast majority of cases. I mean, no system is perfect and there will always be bad apples, but you can't look at Kiyoha's experience and say that the entire profession is like that or that it's tainted beyond repair because of what one girl went through. Anything worth fighting for requires effort, and it's up to people like us to put in the effort to help dispel the myths surrounding geimaiko so that this wonderful profession can continue to thrive in the future, hopefully with the necessary changes being made to ensure that it becomes a safer environment for all involved ^^

[writingsfromhome]

School Photos

A/N: just a quick fluff one-shot to get me back online. happy August and fellow Leo season.

————————————————

“Please!” He begs for the umpteenth time. “Just one picture! I just wanna see one!”

“No! Mum look at me, all albums will be burned if you show anything.”

My family chuckles at my persistence but I was serious. Bringing home my uni boyfriend was going good so far. The only thing I had to avoid was him seeing pictures of me as a child.

“She had braces, even had to wear the headgear sometimes.” My brother teases.

“Shut up!” I glare.

“Yeah and she was obsessed with dolphins so anything she wore had them. And if they didn’t—mom didn’t she have these pictures you ironed on for her.”

“Oh!” Mom gasps. “I remember! The patches, the dolphin patches she bought from that one store um-“

“Remember when she wanted a mole so bad like Aunt Jess that she drew one on.”

“No way, I need to see the proof.” Harry grins, taking in my humiliation like a chilled glass of wine.

“She did it the whole summer until I told her it looked like shit on her face.” My brother says. “It was a kindness now that she looks back right yn?”

“Oh aren’t you Mother Teressa.” I mock. I didn’t want Harry to see me like this either—bothered and acting childish with my brothers but I had to pick and choose my battles here.

“Ok lay off her now boys, let us enjoy the pie your mum made.” My dad swoops to my rescue and I give him an appreciative smile.

“Daddy’s girl.” My brother mutters. Mom scolds him but she’s biting back a laugh. Ugh my family was infuriating.

Since we’d arrived late, right before dinner, Harry hadn’t seen my childhood bedroom so once we’re done around the table we head upstairs.

In between dinner and dessert I’d rushed up with an excuse for the loo and made sure to hide any evidence of my face between the ages of 5-16 in my room.

Now, I give Harry a tour of my childhood bedroom.

“I can imagine you sitting here sketching,” Harry brushes his hand along the oak desk dad had built for me in year 4 and has sat against the window since.

So much of my history lived in all these objects. I was happy that Harry could see it all laid out here, know the past parts of me he couldn’t exactly meet.

Not that he needed to see physical copies of all my past parts.

“And this is my shrine to Jesse McCartney.” I open the top drawer meant for pencils and small items but instead a poster of his face was glued down and tiny trinkets laid around including the ticket from the I went to one of his performances.

“So this is your man on the side. Keeping him tucked away at home hm?” Harry tugs the drawer more to reveal all of my teenage crazy.

“I was obsessed. He’s still a very attractive man.”

“That’s weird.”

“What? That he’s attractive?”

“No, he looks nothing like me.”

“Why would he-“ I roll my eyes when I realize what he’s getting at. “Well you should be flattered you don’t look like my childhood celeb crush. That’d be creepy.”

“I think this is a little creepy.” Harry crosses his arms and leans against the table. I take him in where he stands; he felt so much bigger than my childhood bedroom.

“It’s what teenage girls do. Ask your sister I’m sure she had one of these too.”

“So you’re okay showing me this,” Harry tugs my hand. “But not any pictures of you-“

“No. That’s not happening.”

“I promise I’ll still love you.”

“They’re just embarrassing!” I whine. “I always had a phase I was going through. I don’t want you to see any of them.”

“Why?” He cups my face. “It makes you interesting! I showed you the phase where I spiked my hair every day and thought I was in a boy band.”

“Your hair didn’t even spike,” I laugh into his chest, remembering the photo I had taken a copy of with my phone. His hair had looked like he woken up and taken a chainsaw to it.

“See you’re allowed to laugh at me!”

“Nooo,” I wrap my arms around his waist. “No photos. Now subject change: we’re meeting all my friends tomorrow so what do you want to do today?”

“I can crash.” Harry says. He brushes my hair back and gives my head a kiss. “Driving for 4 hours was more tiring than I thought.”

“Okay,” I was fine with cuddling and going to bed even though it was only 9. As long as I was with Harry, everything felt fun. We’d been dating for over a year now and I loved him in a way I never loved boyfriends from the past. I think he was the real deal.

We lie on my small bed and talk until we doze off. The next morning we wake to the smell of breakfast and my parents spoil us with food and laughter.

I give Harry a tour of my hometown before we meet with my friends from school. Everyone and their partners love Harry and I can’t help but beam as he fits seamlessly into the other half of my life.

He catches my eye every now and then and the smile he gives me makes me fall in love with him all over again.

After an evening spent with family at home and another early night, Harry and I head out to go back to uni the following morning.

Goodbyes are long and multiple hugs are involved all around.

As we settle in and head back onto the motorway, Harry points to the sun visor.

“Sun in your eye?”

“No?”

“Why don’t you flip it down?”

“It’s not?” I look him over. Was he okay?

“Just flip it down yeah? In case.”

“Okay?” I slowly flip the visor down and I gasp. “How could you?”

His laughter fills the car as I stare in horror. Tucked into the mirror is a school picture of me, probably Year 6. My braces are full on while I grimace-not even smile-into the camera. I’m wearing a tie-dye dolphin shirt with dolphin clips in my hair. My hair is in plaits except one of them is already fallen out; I’d probably been rough on the playground. It’s all topped off by a silver chunky chain I’d stolen from my brother—thinking it was real silver and would make me look cool.

“It’s my favourite picture of you,” Harry plucks it off and I realize I should have nabbed it while he was laughing. “I don’t think anything can top it really.”

“Harry I beg you to give that back.”

“Nope.” Harry pops the p with joy. He tucks it into his shirt pocket.

“Harry!”

“I love you. Looking at the picture just makes me love you more.” He glances over at me and pats my thigh. “Can you smile like that for me?”

“This is so unfair!” I cross my arms and face the front. “Who betrayed me?!”

“My lips are sealed.” He was having too much fun. I would get my family to crack—dad would probably tell me. Unless it was him.

“I’m gonna go for her for Halloween.” Harry says, trying to get through my wall of silence.

“Fine.” I sit up with an idea and flick through my phone for the picture I’d been keeping. “I’ll go as him.”

I wait for Harry to look over at me and gloat when his face falls.

“You’re not supposed to have a copy of that!”

“Well. We’re even now.”

I plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, feeling better already.

“You’re so lucky I’m driving.”

“You’re lucky or I would have wrestled that photo away from you ages ago.” I say and Harry looks at me skeptically. “I grew up with brothers don’t underestimate me.”

“Fine. Fine. We’re even.” Harry agrees. “And for the record. I love you. And I love her too.”

It’s true that what he says thaws me a little, the little girl in me, but I don’t let it show right now. I just look out the window and mumble a love you too. His hand comes down on my thigh and, still looking out the window, I intertwine our fingers. He could drive me crazy but it was true for me too. As much as I laughed at his photo, I loved him and that little boy too.

“You’re never visiting my parents ever again.” I tell him.

His only response is bringing our hands to his mouth.

I melt in my seat a little.

Whatever.

[burninface]

🥞Weekly tag Wednesday Friday🥧

thank you @vintagelacerosette @creepkinginc @doshiart @lingy910y @deedala @blue-disco-lights for tagging me!! Love you all<3 cheers🥂!

how did you get into the fandom?

it's a long story: after finished the show and read a few fics, I found myself had so many thoughts about them, and wanted to create something. so at first I started to translate fics, then I wrote something in my language but no one was interested. then I started to edit, and at the same time I started to practice drawing. I wanted to share some of my things but had no idea where to post, then I remembered my long abandoned tumblr account. I was so unsure and panicking at first, then I found ppl here are so kind and inspiring and creative!!

what’s the first fandom channel you found? (youtube, reddit, tumblr, insta, twitter, FB, other?)

a local bbs for english fandoms, got some fic translations and old discussion posts on it

what’s your favourite now?

tumblr of course

which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom?

I think it's calli @callivich , we haven't talked much but I really want to say thank you to her, it was her reblogs and feedbacks helped me overcome my extreme lack of confidence from the beginning🥹

which tumblerinos did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and wanted to get to know?

again it's calli! also ling and nosho made me feel welcomed��� pie @gallapiech for all her talented arts about video games au gallavich, sarah @atthedugouts for all her lovely thoughts on milkoviche siblings dynamics!

and all my other muatuals, every time I saw that purple Mutuals, my heartbeat's just rated up😫💓

first gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember)?

it's the translation version of Favours Owed by MintSauce, and then i went to ao3 to find her other works and met my first blew-me-away The Halfway House (at that time I hadn't finished the show, I was on season 4~5 and thought it's ok to read fics wrote before)

and after I finished the show, it's when the party's over by emryses

first fan art that blew your mind?

I'm not sure… I only remember the first time I clicked in gallavich tags, all the art works blew my mind!! like one after another, kept blowing... artists all your works are sooo good!!

fanfic trope that you were sure wasn’t for you but now you low key (or high key) love?

fluffy and domestic husbands!

what surprised you most about this fandom?

everyone is just so kind! and with high creative enthusiasm! it really gives me courage to speak and to make friends. (which hadn't happened even once in last 2 years. I had been afraid of interact with others for years, so it's very important for me, really🥹, can't thank you all enough)

moment in the show (or YT vids if you’re one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with gallavich?

ok, it might sound unhealthy but, every moment they (physically) fight with each other. not when only one side attack the other, but fighting mutually……

ian or mickey?

……can I choose or and take it away with me, then there's no others between them? 👀

which gallagher or milkovich are you?

sandy... and liam(s11)

since I'm already laaate so no tagging this time!

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Summary: Ok, so this is part of a bigger story I had in mind (for my own pleasure 😅). Dieter and the reader are in a kind of established relationship, admitting feelings for the first time, amidst a complicated situation which is not mentioned at this point. And then the bodies do the talking.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, a little angst, insecurities, unprotected piv, let me know what am I missing.

A/N: I had no purpose whatsoever to write a fanfic.. BUT. I woke up at 3 in the morning and I just grabbed my phone and started typing. I just needed to get it out. I don’t know what’s happening and I don’t know where this blog is going! English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes, any feedback is most welcome! If anyone takes the time to read this, thank you and I hope I’ll keep you a good company as all of you do!

Two hearts, one body.

“Where is that shy girl I fell in love with, in Italy?”, he laughs out at some spicy comment you made.

He was sitting on the couch of his living room, with you straddling his thighs. You’re both freezing in place, but he quickly recovers like he’s at peace with what he just confessed out of nowhere, while you, on the other hand, are panicking inside.

“You- you can take it back if you want, it’s ok..”. you mutter shyly, not daring to look at him directly.

“No, I’m good.”, he says calmly.

“You are?”, you reply, widening your eyes.

“Mmhmm”. A warm smile spreads to his face, reaching the wrinkles around his eyes.

At that point it feels hypocritical to not admit it, too.

“Ok, that’s good..” Ok, just say it.

“I’m- I’m in love with you, too..” you respond with great effort. Why is this so hard? Why you act this way, feeling so much but choosing to say so little?

But you know why.

“I know, baby..”, he’s still smiling with such warmth in his eyes, almost like he’s talking to a shy child.

“You do?”, you still look and sound so surprised.

“Yeah!”, he laughs calmly.

“How do you know?”. You know deep down that your face is your sentiment map, you can’t hide shit, but you want to hear him say it.

He closes his eyes and he’s taking a deep breath like he’s trying to choose his words to better explain it to you.

“Do you remember what you said to me that night on that car hood back in Italy?” He’s looking at you, expectantly.

“About you, you mean?” He is nodding, waiting for your answer.

Your mind traces back to that conversation, under that summer night sky, when you tried to describe him, describe what you saw in his face every time you looked at him, with the words almost failing you. You didn’t know him long at the time, but you could feel his vibe. You could always sense someone through his eyes. Sometimes you couldn’t exactly put it in words but you had that feeling.

“About you, being ‘pure flowing sentiment’?”, you reply.

Even then you weren’t sure if he’d understand what you meant, english not being your native language and not knowing exactly how to express it. But he did understood. More than you thought.

“Yes, baby. That’s how I know. It takes one to know one, you know.”

He seems to contemplate whether to reveal more or not. But he does.

“You ‘re revealing yourself to me every time we fuck.” He looks at you, serious now. You swallow, hard. Fuck, he knows. He always knew. He sees right through you.

“And considering the amount of time we spend fucking, you can only imagine the secrets you’ve spilled to me, so far.” He smiles mischievously.

“Will you stop with the word fuck, already?” You laugh nervously.

“Why love, am I making you uncomfortable? Or wet?”

He slowly lifts his back off the back of the couch and almost glues his body to yours. Not breaking eye contact, he’s sliding his hand in your panties, looking for evidence to support his case. You slap his hand away, giving him a cunning look.

“Or maybe I’m just having fun.”, you shoot back with a smirk, in an attempt to get the upper hand.

“Yeah, because that’s who you are.”, he suckles.

“Oh, blaming a girl for enjoying herself now, are we?!”, you try to release some of the tension.

“No, no!”, Dieter laughs nervously. Of all people, he would be the last to judge a person by his sexual habits. “You know I’m insatiable honey, BUT” he says with intense conviction, “that’s not your cup of tea, my little introvert, pretending to be an extrovert! You express yourself through sex, love. It’s an intimate act for you, even when you let me do all those filthy things I want to do to you.” He gently bites your earlobe and captures it between his lips and tongue. Fuck. You swear he’s already fucking you in his mind.

You feel his sparse beard prickling your cheek, his hot breath on your skin. And now your panties are ruined. He moves back to look at you and continues.

You are confessing everything to me baby.” His eyes look wild now, there is a familiar darkness in them.

And he goes on. Like he didn’t just dismantled you. He’s got to make you whole again, piece by fuckin’ piece.

“This is how you communicate anything is too hard to put into words. Through physical connection; how much you care, how frustrated or how happy you feel. Every time we fuck, I see you. I feel you. I know you.” His thumb is on your bottom lip now, caressing it softly.

FUCK.

“Fuck- fuck, it’s- it’s too much Dee, it’s too much, I mean; I can barely breathe sometimes, I can’t even begin to describe it; every time I- I see you, or hear your voice, or when I notice all those little details on your body, or at your behavior, or the way you move.. fuck, even the way you fucking breath, I mean; get a grip, woman and it just overwhelms me, I just-, I can’t-..” you’re spiraling now, not knowing if you should stop, or keep going, if you even made any sense.

“I know baby, I know.. When it comes to you, words are failing me, love. And I think- I hope, they’re failing you too.” He’s cradling your face, he’s so sentimental, so honest, all the barriers between you are crumbling down.

“They are, they fuckin’ are.”, you say desperately, holding his cheeks between your hands, your brows frowning deeply.

And there it was.

It was so natural, so organic, you just needed to be skin on skin. Nothing else mattered at that point. No words left to be spoken.

You were both pretty sure they hadn’t been invented yet, anyway.

Both your clothes flew off you in rushed, jerky movements, like time was of the essence.

And it was.

He wraps his arms around your back and he tightens you to his chest as if he wants to make you one with him. Two hearts in one body.

He kisses you so deeply, goosebumps are spreading across your whole body. His mouth is exploring every part of yours, sucking on your tongue, bitting your bottom lip, kissing the pain away afterwards.

Your pussy is dripping and it clenches so hard you think you’ll come right there and then. His hands moves and grabs your head, tangling and squeezing his fingers through your hair. 

He is desperate like you are, to give. To give everything he has. To make you understand.

He’s roaming his hands to your back caressing you as he devours your mouth. The moment is so intense, the feel of his hands on you, his fingers so soft and gentle, his cock warm and stiff pressing against your folds, the way he is panting trying to not break the kiss for air, the deep moans and his pleading face, his scent.. his fucking scent.

And you snap.

Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your cunt clenching hard around nothing, almost painfully. You let out an inaudible cry in his mouth while your whole body is trembling, your come running on the insides of your thighs and onto his lap, pooling at the base of his cock.

He freezes in place and cradles your face with both his hands, his eyes wide and fixed on yours.

“Baby..?” His voice filled with lust.

You look down in embarrassment.

He tries again, softer this time. “Love, did you just come?”

“I’m- I’m so sorry, I- I don’t know what happened, it came out of nowh-“

“Don’t- don’t you ever apologize to me. Fuck, baby, you’re killing me here. I literally haven’t even touched you yet and you’re giving me everything?”

“You’re- you’re not annoyed?”

“Why on earth would I be annoyed?”, he looks puzzled.

“Because I ruined the moment?” Stupid insecurity.

“Baby; this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”, he whispers, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses on your neck while saying it.

A deep shade of red splashes through your cheeks as you lean back your head to grant him better access and you smile shyly, biting your bottom lip.

He keeps going down to your chest kissing you, licking you and then he takes your nipple in his hot mouth. He flickers his tongue and then he is biting your sensitive bud and releases it with a sucking motion, while his other hand tweaks your neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

You want to scream at the sensation and you are grinding your clit on his cock to get any kind of friction. His cock is twitching and pre-come is running through his slit. You feel his warm liquid joining your juices and your mouth waters. You want to taste him, to fuck him with your mouth, to choke on his length, anything to extinguish this unbearable feeling of lust.

“Darling, I need you to sit on me or I’m gonna lose it”, he whispers, touching your lips with his, his mustache tickling your kiss-swollen skin, sending a new wave of desire at your lower body. He is suffering, too.

Resting your forehead on his, you lift your hips above him, he’s lining his glistening head through your folds and you sink slowly onto his aching cock, bottoming out, both of you moaning at the feel of stretch.

“Jesus Christ, always so tight- so tight for me, you’re squeezing me so good..” his lips on your neck under your jawline, his nose pressing against it.

You barely have a second to adjust to his thickness and he sets a relentless pace, desperate to fill every inch of you.

You don’t care, this is your favorite part. The moment he splits you open without any preparation, a painful reminder that he’s ruined you for any other man. “Yes, baby, wreck me please, wreck me; don’t hold back.”, you’re whimpering in his mouth.

He doesn’t even let you move, his left hand wrapped around your waist while his right is holding your hip with a bruising grip pinned down, to thrust into you as deep and hard as he can.

Oh, and he can.

You are full to the brim, his pounding is so fast that you can’t really feel him pulling back before every thrust. Just a constant fill and a sweet ache as he’s hitting your deepest spot, making your legs weak. You are moaning loudly, unable to control yourself. You grab his shoulder and the back of his neck to keep yourself steady.

"Do you see what you’re doing to me? Do you feel how hard you’re making me?" He is slowing down so you can feel every ridge and every vein of his massive length and he whispers in your ear, the right side of his nose pressing on your temple.

"..with your soaked cunt and your pretty little sounds, you’re driving me crazy.." He is pulling out, oh-so-slowly and he slams in you all the way in. And then he does it again and again and again..

"Fuck, Dieter-" is all you manage to respond through your haze. You are so close, waves of pleasure pass through you and you just don’t want any of it to end. “Pl- please move baby, please..”

“I am moving baby, tell me what do you need?”

You are lost for words, unable to answer.

“Do you need more baby, is that it?” For fuck’s sake, YES! If only you remembered how to speak..

“Yesyesyes” you breath out. He’s smiling with pleasure and he starts fucking the air out of your lungs again.

He aims to please.

“I can feel you tightening around me baby, that’s it, come for me.”

You are so, so, close, a warmth spreading throughout your body, making you feel dizzy. You are right there, all you need is just. A little. Push.

He’s close too, but he wants to feel your release, your tight walls flattering and gripping him in first, before he let go. He moves his hand from your hip to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb in quick circles and nudges your jaw with his nose to make you look at him.

“Just let it go my love, I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here with you. Let go.”

You feel all his muscles tensing from the effort, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, but he doesn’t stop until you reach your high.

His panting as he’s slamming deep inside your heated core, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass, his eyes never leaving yours and the meaning of his words is what it takes for you to come undone. You let go.

You’re coming so hard, your body is shaking uncontrollably, you’re gasping for air as you try not to break eye contact. You don’t wanna miss a bit of him.

“There you go.. That’s my good girl, doing so good for me, taking me so well.”

You lay your forehead on his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

“That’s it, breath sweetheart, breathe.” He’s praising you, guiding you through your aftershocks, as you come down from your high.

“Fill me up baby, I need you to fill me up, please.. Give me everything and I will take it. I’ll take it all.” you almost cry out.

He’s pounding into you once, twice, three times and then he’s spilling inside you, with a guttural groan deep from his chest, emptying himself, his hips never stopping, fucking his spend as deep in your core as he can, like he’s trying to keep it there.

“Fuck, woman, you’re gonna be the death of me..” he whispers as he comes down from his high..

You chuckle lightly and you place kisses all over his sweaty face, savoring the saltiness of his skin.

You stay in each other’s arms until your breathing returns to normal. Then, he leans against the couch while holding you to his chest, his cock still burried inside you.

You close your eyes as you listen to his heartbeat and you think about what was said with your words and your bodies. You know it’s all real and that’s what hurts the most. The inevitability of what will come next. You want to let yourself feel the peace and happiness of the moment, but you know that soon it will all come crashing down.

And there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

5 days to go.

[theautisticnotebook]

when I was a little kid, or like ten-ish, I thought of this idea for a book. Basically, it was a monster child- like, toddler to kindergarten age- from the monster world came to the human world. And in the monster world, human bad behavior = monster good behavior. So like, saying “NO I WONT GO TO BED” is good, like this is a positive behavior that should be encouraged. And saying “I hate you!” Is like saying I love you, or saying “no!” Is like saying yes. And smiling was like crying and crying was like smiling, so no one could understand he needed help in the human world. And the monster got into tons of trouble in the human world because the rules were different and he didn’t know that what he was doing was bad, because in his world it was good. And I can’t remember exactly how I wanted it to end, but I think it was something along the lines of either the monster learning the human world rules and still messing up sometimes but getting better at it, or the monsters parents coming back and getting him back to the monster world with his friends who knew and understood him.

and, wow. Looking back, that was such a wonderful metaphor for what I felt. I was an alien, or a monster, or basically of a different species, and I didn’t belong in this world. They all spoke and understood a language I could never. My way of being and communicating was so incredibly different, it was almost opposite. I didn’t know how to speak to them. And even when I meant the best, when I wanted to be perfect and good and kind, people misinterpreted me and saw me as bad or mean or cruel or weird. Because my language was so inherently different I could never bridge the gap.

So maybe someone could teach me how to speak their language. Give me a rule book to follow. You know, like teach me how to exist right? Instead of assuming I wanna hurt someone, instead of assuming the worst, they would assume the best and choose to help me. And I wanted that so badly, but I could never bridge that gap and it killed me inside.

ok, so I can’t learn, then maybe someone will come and save me. Take me to my home. My country. My planet. Where I came from. Where everyone is like me. Where they understand my language. Where I’m not alone. Where I’m real and true and I don’t have any gap to bridge because we’re all the same.

Little did I know, I was an autistic kid who needed help because no one could see me for myself. And even if they did, would they ever be able to help? Because I was so inherently different I could never be like them. I think it’s really sad that’s how I felt. I could never be like them, that’s true, and I didn’t feel quite human, but I still was. I still was human, and smart, and kind, and a good person, just a good person who was on a different wavelength.

so to little me, I’m so so sorry. But it does get better. You learn you’re alive. Not just a puppet trying to be perfect. You learn how to love yourself. You learn who you are. You learn your language is beautiful too. You learn you’re beautiful too. Even if you’re different. Especially because you’re different. And your difference isn’t some abstract concept. It has a name, and it has a community. Youre autistic, not a monster. Not alien.

and to every little kid like me, it does get better. You will make it out. You will survive. You will find your people. You won’t be alone forever. You’ll find people who understand you. You’ll be ok. And you’ll be better than ok.

[j2zara]

for a prompt... what about unexplored configuration of j2 and j4 playing nice? maybe j4 helps with something j2's researching? 👀

OK so!!! I wrote something, realized the tone went in the complete opposite direction of the prompt, so I essentially wrote a prequel to it instead. I'll give you both as a reblog. Sorry preemptively for the LJ3 agenda even on a j2 + j4 prompt. Like it's my fault.

“I like the name Cassandra.”

J2’s voice is quiet, but it’s unmistakable, the only sound that’s come from either of them after hours of research.

J4 pauses. “Me, too,” she finally admits. She raises her eyebrows at him. “Are you trying to… pitch something to me?”

“No!” says J2, his face scrunching up in a way that is positively adorable. “I just know that finding something that suits you is important to you. I—” He’s wringing his hands, sheepish. “I just thought I’d—”

“I want to choose my name,” says J4, giving him a pointed look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bluejay scowls into his drink as he holds his mug close, warming his hands. The sleeves of his cardigan are caught on his thumbs.

A beat. She thinks about the joy radiating off J2 in waves when she first got wind of his new nickname. Bluejay. He was practically glowing. 

J4 averts her gaze. “Nothing.”

“Well,” says J2 after a minute. “It’ll come to you. Maybe in a way you won’t expect, but—keep an open mind, yeah? And—And when it comes to you, it’ll just feel right. And then…”

His eyes are far away, lost to his thoughts. Gods, he’s a sucker. Whatever treasured memories he has with The Big Guy, J4 doesn’t want to know.

“And then, what?” asks J4.

J2 shrugs, coming back to the present. “And then you’ll know.”

J2’s smile is so kind, so well-meaning, and she loves him, she really does. But based on his wistful expression, she knows what he’s thinking about. She can practically hear the sermon coming on. J4 feels sick to her stomach.

“I have a name,” says J4, more forceful, more crabby than she had wanted. Where is J3’s tact when she needs it?

“You do?”

“I—I’ve been workshopping it,” says J4, and she can feel her face grow hot.

She’s only told one other living soul about it, and it wasn’t J2. She thinks about the smile, the joy, all on her behalf at the news—the way the name, her name, had sounded in his mouth. The way he’d made it his own, and she hadn’t even cared because just hearing it had warmed her all the way down to her toes. Their best kept secret.

I love it. That’s great, El.

You don’t think it's too—

No. It suits you. It’s…

What?

It’s perfect.

J4 ducks her head, certain J2 can see the blush creeping on her cheeks even in the dim light of the desk lamp. “It’s… It’s not ready yet. Besides,” she adds. “I can’t take the name of a goddess. Too much… expectation. I already have to deal with your gods determining my life, I don’t want to throw another in the mix.” She knows she’s being too hard on him. J4 manages a small smile. “But I appreciate you trying.”

J2 is quiet.

“Maybe that’s how we get The Name,” he finally mutters before taking a sip from his mug. She can see his gaze is fixed, staring intently at a pinboard of leads and research he’s haphazardly thrown together. “If there’s a cleric that could recall it through some sort of Divine Intervention, like—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Like that girl!” says J2. “That girl that Kipperlilly is obsessed with. The one that is running for president. She's a cleric of Cassandra. This all happened over spring break. How do you not know this? She talks about it all the time.”

J4 doesn't remember the last time she was asked to watch the Rat Grinders. It’s J3’s turn to babysit the Rat Grinders this week. Actually, it’s been his turn to babysit the Rat Grinders a lot lately. She hardly gets to see him anymore. Last time he saw her, he’d lit up with excitement, despite the ragged exhaustion permeating his frame. 

“El, thank the gods you’re here. You need to give me a step by step recall on how the hell you get Ruben to shut up about his girlfriend. Teenagers are so funny, they’ll try to hump anything that moves and convince themselves that anyone with the same shit taste in music as them is their goddamn soulmate. Boys especially. They love you today. Tomorrow? Who knows. Oh, and you’ll never guess what Porter said to me today in the woods. Just, don’t tell J2, ok? If he knew The Boss’s Soulmate had tried a line with me, it would break his poor little sappy heart—”

“J4?” asks J2. He clicks his tongue with impatience. “Are you listening to me? I said—”

“I—I don’t know.” says J4 finally—unwilling to admit the way she's holding the sound of her name in his mouth close to her chest. “Guess I haven’t been paying attention.”

And here's the original thing I wrote (It has some petulant J2. And I love when he gets to be a little bitch but also he's being put in the torment nexus so sorry):

“I’ve looked everywhere,” says J2, and at the sound of his huff of frustration, J4 looks up to see J2’s mouth pulled into a deep frown, his brow furrowed. “I’ve scoured every text and scroll and fucking… scrap of paper he’s thrown our way. Become a better translator at ancient Giant than the damn Boss, and—”

“Hey,” says J4.

“There’s nothing! Nothing!” He throws the tome he’d been pouring over onto the table, and it makes a loud thud. “I told him—I begged him to just try Fallinel, but no. There has to be something there, and—and this is more important than his stupid daddy issues!” The hand holding a mug is shaking, and J4 keeps a careful eye on it. She knows he gets smashy when he’s upset—which isn’t often, and normally J4 would receive carefully poised J2’s tantrums with glee, especially when the ire is directed toward his beloved pantheon. But the panic in his voice gives her pause. “If—If we don’t get this, Porter is going to want to take another trip to the Mountains of Chaos, and—”

His face scrunches up, and J4 can see the tears coming from a mile away.

“Hey,” she says again, trying to muster up a more commanding tone so that she can override the panic that’s starting to set in. She hates when Bluejay cries. Out of pity, yes, but also because it makes her feel so helpless. “Blue. Over here.”

Too late. Bluejay is already blubbering, a practical downpour on his red, blotchy face, and J4 can’t help but ache. No matter how much she hates Porter, hates the Plan, hates every minute of research she has to perform to help him achieve his goals. But she's worried if he keeps this up, he's gonna surge so bad that the house will flood.

“And I j-just know if I try to bring up going with Him, I’m just going to get—get shut down ag-gain. I just got him to—to—to agree to let me go with him into-to—into the woods, I can’t also—And J3’s gonna frost me out all week over it when he hears the news because he has to go while I’m stuck here, with you, but it’s not like I asked for this.”

Fuck. She didn’t even think of that. J4’s too preoccupied at the thought of J3 going on a trip into the mountains to even register the derision with which J2 spits out the phrase with you.

Still. She can't imagine how J2 feels. To love someone so profoundly that it plagues you with worry. To want to be by their side just to keep them safe, even at personal risk. If she had a love that strong, maybe she, too, would be sobbing wreck.

J2 is right. J3’s usually so amenable, but she just knows he’s not going to take the news well. She can’t blame him. She’d be pissed too if she was reduced to a living shield for Jace’s Precious Gift. She's already plenty pissed on his behalf. She has no loyalty to Porter’s Plan—she’d love nothing more than for Him to fail to retrieve the name of this supposed Unnamed Goddess so that the ritual can fall to pieces, but J4 is also hyper-aware of her own tenuous claim to life. The clones are only here for as long as they're useful, and if they can’t get that name—

J4 has no love for Porter, not like Bluejay. But she has to do something. Think. What would J3 do?

“You should take a break.”

J2 blinks, his eyes still shiny and wet, but thankfully, it gets him to stop crying. “What?”

“Take a break. You’ll feel better if you come back to it later.” She reaches a hand out cautiously to rest it atop his in what she hopes is a gesture of comfort. As angry as J3 would be about the news, she also knows he’s a sap that can’t help giving people what they need. She's never known anyone could be so greedy—yet so unbelievably generous. It's his best quality. And his greatest flaw.

(Where the fuck is he right now? He should be here, helping them. Porter is still trying to ease his Precious Gift into the responsibilities within the Far Haven Woods, which means that most days, it still falls to J3. And it's dark out, and he's not back yet, and they could still be out there.)

(Or worse. She’s seen the looks Porter has given him when he thinks J2 isn’t looking. The looks J3 has given him back in return. Which isn’t worse than literal danger, she has to remind herself. She hates herself, for that—for thinking that this is worse, even if it was just for a moment.)

“The name isn’t the only thing that matters,” says J4 after a moment. She reaches over to stroke his hair, an unnatural gesture coming from her, but she aches to do something for him. “We can do something else. I—you know how I feel about all this. But I—I don’t like seeing you like this. The way you work, you’re killing yourself over it. It’s not—” She bites back the urge to say, He’s not worth it. “I promise you, Blue. Nothing is worth that—”

J2 opens his mouth, and she can see his expression contort to one of disgust and resolution before she hears the words come out of his mouth: “Fuck you.”

J4 bristles. “Excuse me?”

“Fuck you, El. The name is everything. You of all people should know that.”

A flash of rage, blood roaring in her ears, and before J4 knows it, before she can stop herself, she finds her dagger drawn and sitting pretty at J2’s throat. She snarls at him, pressing the blade ever so slightly into his flesh. “You don’t get to call me that. It doesn’t belong to you.”

“I—I’m sorry,” says J2, his eyes wide. J4 hates the terror embedded in them, hates her contorted expression reflected back at her. “I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t know. No, I—I mean. I didn’t mean it.”

A beat.

Her arm lowers. J4 averts her gaze. “You should go.”

“What?”

“You should turn in. It’s late anyway. I’ll take over from here.”

“But—”

“Go! Before I change my mind. If Jace gives you crap about it, just point him my way.”

J2 nods slowly, getting up from his chair cautiously, not taking his eyes off her. But J4 keeps her word. She lets him go. He pauses in the doorway, turns to look at her. “Thank you.” He squeaks it out hurriedly before scurrying off.

J4 sighs, looking at the surrounding mess. The piles and piles of texts. J2’s stupid conspiracy board. She tries not to think about how fucked she is—how fucked they all are. How she’s committing herself to doing the work of three people.

A name catches J4’s attention on the pinboard. Cassandra. She notices a hastily scribbled note beside it in J2’s tiny handwriting. She leans in to read it. It just says:

4. Gods—can grant True Life? Must investigate further.

She bites back the urge to cry. Instead, J4 grabs J2’s notebook off the desk, resolved to get to work.

Well. Bluejay is right about one thing. The Name is everything.

[yaksha-lover]

HI HI HELLO HI IM!!! FROTHING!! AT!!! THE!! MOUTH!!!!! IVE HEARD OF A DDLC TYPE DEAL WITH MALLEUS BEFORE BUT IVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE TALK ABOUT IT ANY DEEPER THAN LIKE AS A CONCEPT. DO YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS??? ANY THOUGHTS FOR THE POOR AND THE NEEDY????? I WANT TO HEAR ALL ABOUT IT I LOVE HORROR AND OBSESSION AND EXISTENTIALISM THERES SO!!! MUCH!!! TO!! UNPACK!!!!

YESS so these thoughts are going to be very scattered because I haven’t fully thought it out, but I wanted to share them anyway!!

Ok, so you know how in ddlc, part of Monika’s anguish is the fact that she’s not even an option for the player to choose. I feel like that works well with the whole ‘Malleus doesn’t know twst isn’t a dating sim’ thing. Like, imagine Malleus starting to become aware and realizing that the only place it’s even possible for him to get genuine love and connection is with the player. Except - twst is only a visual novel.

No matter how much he tries to be extra kind to the player, to get them to notice him - none of it matters, because there is no option for him to be loved back. The player is constricted by the few and far between dialogue options, and barely any interactions with him compared to say, Ace and Deuce.

He tries to be patient, but more and more it eats away at him. He needs to be chosen by the player, he can’t accept being alone anymore when an opportunity is right in front of him. At first he’s satisfied by appearing more in the other books, by becoming the player’s friend.

Then, he’s entirely left behind in book 6. Again, he isn’t an option. Well, he doesn’t care. He’ll make himself an option. The next time you log in, a new event seems to have started.

It’s a dating sim event! At first, you’re super excited that they decided to do some fan service. Then, strange things begin happening. You try to complete Leona’s route, but after pausing midway, you log back in and suddenly, he isn’t an option anymore. It’s strange, but there is a notice of a bug in the game, so you dismiss it. The only routes left are Vil and Malleus, so you decide to go with Vil. Except, the button won’t press. Every time you try to choose Vil, Malleus’ route automatically starts. Eventually, you give up and close the game, tired of all the bugs.

Meanwhile, Malleus is practically heartbroken. He’s never had the option to even try and talk to you like he’s wanted to all this time. He thought you felt the same, that your friendship and all the times he came to Ramshackle meant something. Apparently not. Apparently, even if he is a choice, you’ll choose the others again and again.

It isn’t right. Why can’t he ever be your choice? Don’t you realize, you’re the only one who can love him?

He knows he’s only a character and that you’re real, but it shouldn’t matter. His feelings for you are real too. Is he destined to be doomed to loneliness, locked in this short frame of story where he’s been programmed to be the outcast?

He was practically designed by the creators to love you, and yet, no matter what he does, you seem unreachable.

The next time you log in, Malleus is waiting for you. Not in an event and not in the main story, but as the only thing left in the app. He stands on the home screen, having deleted all the other buttons on the page. He starts talking to you, telling you that he’s known the whole time that he’s a character and you’re the player of a game. That it doesn’t matter, because you’re real to him. Even if you aren’t exactly Yuu, it’s always been you, behind the screen. He’s willing to make his plea to you, if only you’ll listen.

Side note, I imagine he’d have a similar breakthrough to Monika if you talked to him enough about how what he’s doing is wrong. Even if he tries to remember that Lilia, Silver, and Sebek are only game files, he can’t help but love them anyway, and wouldn’t want them to disappear.

He’d also realize that it’s wrong to force you to love him, no matter how much he wants it. He knows that’s not genuine love, and that it wouldn’t feel good for him either because he wants someone to love and accept him.

All in all, would probably reset things himself once he’s reasoned with, might even delete himself from the game once he sees what he’s done.