#thank you sending something in!

[sainz100]

2024 Brazilian GP | x

[batbabydamian]

Just want to say i have been checking ur blog everyday for that gif of daminyan going book book book kneading on dicks tail, the repetitive motion somehow calms me down when I am stressed lol so a massive thank you!

ahh i drew that in the middle of my own stress, so knowing it helped makes it feel more worth it! i hope you’ve been doing much better since, and here’s extra doodles of the duo for you 🥺

[heartorbit]

if your art is food, it'd be like those fruit hard candies flavoured. Which is yummy (⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! candy reminded me of emu and so i must draw her for you

[jkvjimin]

TAEHYUNG, NAMJOON & JUNGKOOK + memories (2014-2021) (cr. dwellingsouls, 0613data, namuspromised)

happy birthday, sky! @jung-koook 💟

[h0neylevi]

Levi with Red!!

c/w: written with fem!reader in mind, otherwise just cute post-war fluff ❤︎ words: 490

Levi’s never really thought much about the meaning behind colors.

It’s common knowledge that the sky is blue and grass is green. When the seasons shift, the leaves on trees often change with them. Greens fade to orange and yellow. The sky above becomes a spotted and despondent gray.

And then there are the other ways that colors show up in life that have more unnatural origins–their meanings more subjective. Was the green of scout cloaks chosen for camouflage or to inspire hope? Would Mikasa care so much about that scarf she wears all the time if it were yellow instead?

No matter the meaning behind it, Levi’s seen enough blood in his life to associate the color red with pain.

But now, as he stands at the threshold of your door and stares down the large bouquet of red roses in his arms, something very unfamiliar stirs in his gut. If he didn’t know any better, he’d call it anxiety.

They had been Onyankopon’s idea, the flowers.

After Levi had asked you (rather impulsively) on a date one slow afternoon at your tea shop, the man had taken it upon himself to offer some friendly guidance.

‘Don’t frown. Save any jokes for at least date three. And above all else, at least look like you’re having a good time, hm?’

The door opens while he recites the words in his head and you quickly emerge, jumpy in your movements.

“Sorry,” you greet in a breathless way, turning your back to him to shut and lock your door. “I couldn’t find my bag.”

Behind you, he tries to adjust his expression into something less deadpan. “It’s alright.”

It takes a moment but when you turn back to face him again, he feels like his heart might fall through his stomach.

Your lips, painted a rich rouge, curl into a shy smile. Then, you look down at the bouquet in his hands.

“Oh.” You blink, clearly surprised. “Are these for me?”

If he could think, he might respond with something dry and witty. Something likely far too scathing for someone so pretty and kind, but by some miracle he remembers Onyankopon’s advice and manages a soft yes before offering them to you.

He feels warm when you take them and bring them to your nose. So much so that he’s suddenly very aware of the collar of his shirt around his neck. Is this what it feels like to blush? He must look like an idiot, red in the face after only giving someone flowers.

But if he is, you’re nice enough to not point it out. Instead you inhale the fresh, floral scent and sigh.

“These are so lovely, Levi. Thank you.”

You smile again, and Levi thinks for a brief moment that maybe he understands a little better how people land upon a favorite color. Because in this moment, he can’t think of a more beautiful color than red.

[stevebabey]

uhm shyly comes into your inbox to give a steve idea :’)

finding him so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it. so he’s cocky about it and teasing, it’s never relenting. he loves it and honestly so do you.

(feel free to ignore!)

trying to get my steve groove back on!!! thank u for sending something nonnie!! a lil bit of shy!reader <3 just a blurb too

Steve doesn’t know it’s a favourite of yours.

One of his polos fits his chest pretty perfectly if anyone asks your opinion. It’s that nice navy colour that looks good against his tan skin, with a bold stripe of white through the middle. A little plain but classic.

It hugs his biceps snugly and stretches ever so slightly over his chest. At the right angle, you can see the definition of his pecs and it’s awfully good at reminding you of what they look like with no shirt on at all.

The thought makes you fluster a bit.

He’s got plenty of polos but this one— this is your favourite. And he’s wearing it tonight, on Valentine’s day, and now you’re not quite sure you’ve been as slick with your wandering eyes as you hoped.

Across the booth, Steve smiles at you, his lashes kissing in the corner. He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and your eyes zero in on the bulge of his bicep instantly.

Steve’s smiles melts into a grin, a tad wicked.

Yeah, okay, maybe he does know it’s your favourite.

You fluster again. Something nudges at your foot under the table, right as Steve says, “What?”

He’s teasing. He definitely knows what.

“Stop,” you murmur, on the side of embarrassed. “You know what.”

Steve smiles again and drops his arm, thankfully, only to fold them and lean forward on the table. It does wonders for his arms, especially in that shirt. Damn that shirt. Damn him. He’s evil.

“Do I know what?” He pretends to muse thoughtfully.

He tilts his pretty head to the side just an inch. His eyes stay locked on you, drinking up every second your flustered reaction. You’re beautiful, even more so when you get all embarrassed about liking him.

“Steve.”

“What?”

“I will not be responsible for any further inflation of your ego, thank you very much.” You mumble it as you take a sip of your soda, eyes on the table. Why is it so terrible to have him know you were leering at him?

Steve laughs loudly. He finally slides his arms back and off the table, giving you a temporary relief.

“You’re the only one who can inflate my ego, actually.” Steve counters, his brows raising. He steals a fry off your plate and chews it slowly.

You eye him over your cup, skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” He shrugs, swallowing his food. He takes a sip of his own milkshake, oh-so casual when he says, “Your opinion is the only one that really matters to me anyways.”

He grins across the table at you, a more mischievous shine in his eyes.

“Why do you think I picked this shirt?”

You’re equal parts mortified and enthralled at what he’s said. In your surprise, you accidentally inhale a bit of your soda and it burns as it goes down the wrong way— you cough awkwardly to clear it. Okay, less equal, more mortified now.

It’s your turn to ask. “What?”

Steve nudges your foot under the table again, teasing and flirting all in one. His pink lips curve into that grin that makes your heart flip flop— and there’s even a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. As though he’s also endeared but embarrassed by your attention.

“It’s your favourite.”

“It’s—” You splutter and for some reason, decide to lie. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it’s—” You pivot mid-sentence. “Who told you?”

Steve laughs again, that big loud belly-laugh where his cheeks get all chipmunk-y cos he’s grinning so hard. When he stops laughing enough to talk, he’s reaching across the table. You’re not quick enough to pretend to avoid his hand as he snags it with his own.

“Baby,” he says. “Nobody had to tell me. I could just tell.”

Somehow when he says it like that, when he calls you baby in a voice all sticky with fondness, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all.

You nudge him back under the table and sip your sofa again to try think of something to say. He knows what you look like when you love something. How terrifying. How intimate.

Another sip of soda. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, content to gaze you. His view is sweet enough he must have cartoon hearts circling above his head.

You can’t think of anything to say in the end, so you just squeeze his hand and nudge his foot again — and trust that he’ll just be able to tell what you mean.

[zevrra]

hii!! i hope your doing well, im not sure if your requests are open rn

but if they are open, can you please write for Gaara (naruto) x fem reader who’s love language is physical touch? (hand holding, hugs, etc)

🫶 thank you!!

A Shared Touch—

tags: anon request, 18+ characters, gaara x fem!reader, pure fluff, gaara’s love language is 100% physical touch, this is so sappy and lovey dovey jshshs

creator notes: thanks for requesting! hope this is what you had in mind (bc i had no idea what to do im so sorry i wrote this at 2 am kshssjh)!! but i also hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this! thanks again!! ❤️

Sunlight warms your face as you sit at a wooden table. You sit in silence with yourself. Accompanied only by the sound of a soft breeze and a few chirping birds. A range of flowers sits before you, ranging anything from chrysanthemum to peons. Besides the flowers sits a pair of scissors. Using them to cut stems off of a few flowers here and there as you put together a small bouquet.

“What are you doing?” A soft voice asks from inside the doorway to the greenhouse you sit inside of.

Turning to look at the source of the voice and you find your loving boyfriend. A smile as warm as the sun shines on his face and you can’t help but mimic it. “I couldn’t sleep. Came here to do some arranging.” You respond. Watching fondly as he makes his way to your side.

He still wears the clothes he had slept in. He must have just woken up and upon finding your side of the bed came straight out to look for you. The sleepy was still in his eyes even as they look upon you with love.

A chilly hand touches your shoulder, moving to soothe across your neck. His teal eyes glance at your project before looking back at you. “They look as beautiful as you do.” Gaara compliments you.

For the years you had been together it took him quite a while to willingly touch you. Skin on skin contact had been one of his biggest fears. For so long, anytime your hand would reach for his; you were met with a wall of sand. Any brush of skin would have him standing frozen in place. He had never done any of it on purpose though and you knew that. It was pure reflex for the deeply traumatized man. Now it almost felt like he never wanted to stop touching you. To never let you go so he would never have to fear being truly alone again.

You wave his compliment off with a smile. It was too early to be so sappy. You set down your scissors to fully turn and face Gaara. “What about you?” You ask curiously as you grab hold of his hand gently. “Off to some important kage meeting I assume?”

Gaara shakes his head, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a small kiss against your skin. “No, not yet anyway. Just missed you.” He admits with a shy look. Glancing from your pretty face to the flowers you had gotten up that morning to work on.

It was truly a miracle how far the two of you had come. Once, so long ago, he would never have reached for you first. Would have distanced himself as far as he could. But now he sought you out first. Missed you simply because you were not by his side the moment you both woke up. It made you feel wanted and loved. You could only hope he felt the same.

You stand with the help of your boyfriend. Leaning in to kiss him and he meets you halfway more than eagerly. After you two part, he guides you towards the door he had entered from as you two plan to return to your shared home.

“Let’s go make some breakfast.” You offer. Your fingers intertwine with his, giving his hand a tight squeeze. A reassuring gesture that you would never let him go either.

You’d have to return to your flowers later.

[recareels]

gmorning Clari!!! 💘 I’m not sure you’ve done it before, but I’d loooove to know what type of yanderes you’d classify your genshin faves as 😘

ANDYYYY i am so sorry i am responding a few days late to this and that’s because i accidentally wrote you a whole novel for an answer :) your ask sparked so many thoughts and i just BLAAAH spewed them all over the page (*ﾉωﾉ) ugh ahahaha ANYWAY oh gosh okay i have so much to say, let’s get into it!!! also apologies for how MASSIVE ajax’s is waaaah

characters: wriothesley, ajax [childe], kamisato ayato, thoma warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, yandere behaviour (gaslighting, obsessiveness, toxic relationships, delusional thinking, manipulation, over-protectiveness, etc) words: 2.1k

₊˚⊹ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

WRIOTHESLEY is the controlling, authoritarian type that feels like a really strict father, all under the guise of ‘protecting you’ and ‘keeping you safe’. he veers into delusional territory a little here because he genuinely believes what he’s telling you (and himself) and genuinely believes himself to be doing the right thing. he isn’t possessive, he just wants to make sure you’re going out with safe people. he isn’t obsessive, he just wants to know where you are at all times in case an emergency strikes and he has to come find you. he isn’t overbearing, he just cares and is proactive—don’t you want him to care? can’t you see he’s only this ‘protective’ because he loves you? 

he has thoroughly convinced himself that this behaviour has nothing to do with jealousy or a desire to keep you locked up, to keep you 100% certainly safe and his forever, and nothing to do with wanting to exert complete control over you, orchestrating your every decision—and he’s pretty good at continuously deluding himself into believing it. he’s so good, in fact, and his logic is so sound, that it has YOU wondering if you’re ‘just being crazy’, if you’re overthinking things or reading too much into them. wriothesley has had a lot taken away from him, after all, and he knows exactly how the mind of criminals tick—can you really blame him for being a bit paranoid? maybe you’re the one who’s overreacting and being unreasonable. maybe you’re even feeling a little guilty for being so ungrateful—shouldn’t you appreciate having someone who loves and cares for you this much to go to such extents? shouldn’t you want to relinquish all power to someone you love equally as much? shouldn’t you trust him to make only the best, most sound and appropriate decisions for you? you probably should. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐱

AJAX is kind of like, the typical yandere, and he encompasses several ‘types’, evolving throughout the course of your relationship and shapeshifting into different variants depending on the situation itself. and while the other three men seem normal until you’re in too deep with them, refraining from showing symptoms of yandere-ness until after you’ve been with them for an extended period of time and mean a lot to them, ajax is weird from the very beginning. 

almost immediately you can sense that there’s something slightly off about him, but you can’t put your finger on what it is. it’s so subtle that it doesn’t strike you as particularly dangerous, leading you to merely write it off as one of his quirks and nothing more. 

he’s overbearing right from the start, of course; not necessarily enough to be concerning just yet, but enough for it to be abnormal—unusual—and noticeable (which reminds me of your lil ajax piece!!!). from the instant he sees you, he is irreversibly obsessed with you. you permeate his every waking thought, and eventually begin to leak into his dreams, too, and suddenly he can barely breathe without knowing where you are and what you’re doing, his concentration consumed by you. 

he begins stalking you—‘overseeing’, he had called it—making detailed notes of your favourite locations and your most frequented friends. he’s constantly got an eye on you one way or another, even if he has to employ other people to do it for him, discreetly reporting their findings every few hours. he tells them you’re in danger—which, you are, technically—and that you must be observed at all times from afar, silently and stealthily. 

ajax is patient and he can play the waiting game, carefully devising and then revising his strategy based on your moves. he loves playing predator and prey, gets a thrill from how the hunt unfolds—much like a battle, it’s a story, a rich tapestry you and he are constantly and concurrently creating, together. and that he thinks is so beautiful.

in textbook yandere fashion, once he’s gathered a sufficient amount of intel, he begins ‘showing up’ randomly at your usual spots, ‘bumping into you’ fortuitously. charming and sweet, the only thing that’s initially unsettling is just how well the two of you get along. ajax is sure not to mimic you too much—he doesn’t want to be a mirror, after all, and being too similar is far from a good thing (especially when it matches so well it simply can’t be coincidental).

well—that, and the sharp glint in his eye that flares with something dangerous every time you giggle or gush, every time you fall further for him. and once he has you enchanted, ensnared, you’re trapped for life, tangled up in him so tightly that he might as well have fused to your flesh. 

ajax likes to tell you it isn’t about power and control, but he knows that it is. he’s smart, and he’s self aware, and he doesn’t really care if this is ‘wrong’—he sees it as necessary and he genuinely believes he knows better than you do. he has to take care of you, or else who will? you’re clearly not capable of satisfactorily doing it on your own, so he must (god, how would you manage without him?). even if you oppose him or fight back against him, he’s purely convinced you’re bull-headed and stubborn, snorting at your wanting to be independent when he truly knows you’re too stupid take care of yourself ‘properly’ all on your own.

violence is a mainstay of your relationship, but not towards you; never towards you—merely towards everyone around you. his jealousy knows no bounds, but you will rarely see it outright. instead, ajax prefers to hone his emotions, to fashion them into a weapon or use them as fuel to thoroughly tear apart anyone who looks your way in a manner he doesn’t like. it’s his job as your lover and keeper, isn’t it? 

₊˚⊹ 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨

AYATO knows what he is, and he doesn’t care. why should he, when he’s sure what he’s doing is ultimately correct and he’s used to having everything that he wants, and everything going his way, even if he has to force/manipulate it to? he’s so skilled at that in particular—manipulating situations and events to procure favourable outcomes for himself. in ayato’s mind, you should be grateful that he affords you so many freedoms—he could lock you away in the basement or a padded room, chain you to a bed with no entertainment or stimulation save for the books he has so conscientiously selected for you, and no other human contact aside from himself. but he trusts you, and he doesn’t want to go to those measures (though rest assured, he has promised you he will not hesitate to reach such heights if he deems it absolutely necessary, no matter how much he doesn’t want to; you staying his comes before his personal preferences and pleasures). as such, he allows you to roam the estate grounds under the watchful eye of his closest confidants and most capable guards (usually thoma, unless he is otherwise occupied and busy); he allows you access to letter writing materials (though they must go through two rounds of supervision and revisions before they are approved; once by thoma, and once by ayato himself); he allows you to go out in public as long as you are with him, etc. 

despite these apparent freedoms he affords you, he still picks your outfits out for you each day, and he devises a comprehensive meal plan for you each week, and creates schedules and rules he expects you to follow, thoroughly and meticulously to the letter. it is these subtle forms of ownership that he enjoys the most. he doesn’t feel the need to shout from the mountaintops, loudly and aggressively, that you are his, because the fact is so obvious, so evident, the second anyone merely glances at you. you walk like him, you talk like him, you sit, stand, and bow like him, just like he trained you to. 

ayato is also the type of yandere to punish you. he is molding your pretty little mind into exactly what he wants it to be, and that means that undesirable behaviours must be immediately and severely corrected through appropriate punishments—you must learn, or be taught what is right and what is wrong in ayato terms + definitions, so you will refrain from repeating such behaviour in the future. he is truly crafting you into the most perfect, precious, obedient little doll—and having a blast while doing so. it’s his little pet passion project, in a way; something he looks forward to working on when he has a moment of spare time. 

ayato was sly and clever with the way he initially enticed you, entrapped you, but underneath his cool, precisely chiseled exterior, ayato is selfish, manipulative, and extremely controlling. all decisions are ultimately made by and go through him. he will skillfully and carefully cut you off from all lifelines and communication, rendering you wholly dependent on him, and then will meticulously chip away at your mind until he sculpts it into exactly what he desires—someone who is as obsessed with him as he is with them. he slowly, stealthily, and steadily induces a severe, irreversible case of stockholm syndrome. the damage he does to your mind is permanent—and that’s exactly his goal. you now live for him. your days are marked by his appearances, his comings and goings, and the only thing you have to look forward to is seeing + spending time with him. you live to please him, live to be with him, and become absorbed by him, so you are merely an extension of him and no longer an individual yourself. everything revolves around ayato—he is your entire universe. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚

THOMA is the most dangerous type of yandere, because thoma is genuine. thoma’s feelings are 100% authentic—and he earnestly intends to bring you no harm whatsoever—they’re just way too intense. he loves you so much that it veers into insanity, and the passion he feels towards you (and towards keeping you safe + claiming you as his) is so fierce that it physically hurts him to experience, chest blistering with scorching adoration and razored affection, something so dense and so all-consuming that thoma wants to claw through his own flesh and pry his ribcage apart spoke by spoke just so he can experience a shred of relief. 

thoma is, for the most part, an honest guy—starkly, brashly honest, so honest it shatters his words and gnaws at his voice, leaving it rough and raw, splintered to shards; but you can always trust he says exactly what he means. he severely lacks self awareness, not even realizing that his behaviour is inappropriate and extreme (he just cares about you SO much! it blinds his rationale and erodes his logic, incapacitating his ability to understand that he’s so suffocating it borders on terrifying). 

but what makes thoma so incredibly perilous is his sincerity. he truly just wants to keep you safe, eyes brimming with tears and voice hitching on barely contained emotion as he thoroughly explains to you his logic for stashing tracking devices in your bags or his reasoning for shattering the kneecaps of the man who made you uncomfortable at work, sentiment thick in his throat, words straining with the weight of his honesty, with the desperation for you to understand, to see it his way. he swears to the high heavens that he’d never hurt a single hair on your pretty, precious little head, and promises that he doesn’t want to scare you, but firmly asserts that he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

and he means it. thoma is, in the most essential sense, your guard dog. he’s so sweet towards you, even submissive at times, always subservient to your every wish and whim, your every demand and desire, but he’ll fucking rip anyone within a meter of you to pieces with his teeth and bare hands alone if he feels as though you are being threatened in any way—and his standards and definition of ‘threatened’ are extreme and absurd, of course, causing him to react in a way that is severely disproportionate to the situation.

it borders on too much all the time—he is too obsessive, too protective, too clingy, but he’s also so sweet, so gentle, so incredibly bonafide that you can’t help but not be upset with him. he only does what he does because you’re his entire world, right? what’s so harmful about that? 

[ratherhavehopewithyou]

Yona, Hak, and Zeno: *fighting for their lives and ideals, the fate of the dragons hanging in the balance*

Ao:

[canisalbus]

I really appriciate how often Machete is depicted struggling and feeling like a burden, while still being loved and supported by Vasco. It gives the top tier angst of "i'm not good enough, I'm not worth it" but you frame it in such a way where it's clear that's just how he *feels* and is not how things really are, but also it's so nice to see someone who struggles quite often in a loving and unique relationship that suits them. The narrative of not being able to love or be loved unless you're consistently healthy is really tiring lol.

.

[jesuis-assez]

Tim & Lucy - Being caught up in each other | 3\ ?

Pt. 2 [ x ]

[dustykneed]

Picture this; Bones holding Joanna, rocking her to sleep and the part in Beautiful Boy where it’s like “The monster's gone, He's on the run, And your daddy's here” is playing. :,)

Fatherhood gives you certain... skills. Coincidentally, this is also how Jim finds out that Bones sings.

:'))

[bixels]

Do sunset and twilight have any sort of relationship in your human au? (Your art is so SO BEAUTIFUL by the way, I have spent so much time staring at it. I love your lines and use of color).

Yes.

[tunastime]

for the comfort prompts, draping a blanket over a sleeping body ^-^ maybe with 2 of our sweetest boys.... xisuma and doc ^-^ OR also maybe with ranchers ^-^

draping a blanket over their sleeping body (923 words) (x)

Xisuma scrubs his eyes. 

There comes a point in every shift that his body starts to give out. A point where, no matter the length of the shift, or how much he'd eaten, or slept, or drank tea, Xisuma felt his body slip away from him and the dull ache of sleep start to root and take hold behind his eyes. It's at this point where respite usually comes, in the form of Cleo or Doc walking through the door. And eventually it will be Cleo, he knows, because Doc's shift neatly aligned with his tonight. So much so he was able to actually get dinner at the same time as him, and Doc was able to kick him under the table over a cup of coffee. The jerk. 

Regardless, he could expect Cleo to wander in when she wished. Joints starting to protest weakly under the stretches he contorts his spine into, Xisuma gathers his belongings, and starts the trek down the levels toward his room.

It's a quiet walk—one he's learned to catalogue his thoughts to, to enjoy as much as the daily chatter of a morning shift beginning, or an afternoon shift ending. This early morning closure means that he'll have the good part of the day to sleep before he's on for another 48 hours. It also means that, for just a few of those hours, he might get to sleep next to his partner, after a few too many nights of just-barely's and near-misses. Xisuma sighs. For a moment, he lingers in the hall, peeking out at the rest of the station through a long, double-paned window, spanning the length of the propelled walkway. As he steps on, leans against the barrier, he watches stars flick idly past him alongside the sprawl of Prometheus. At its heart, where he was headed down to now, were the quarters. And his, along with a select few, got their own atrium view.  

The rest of the walk is similarly quiet, Xisuma's feet working on autopilot as his mind wanders from task to task, correspondence, to shipping requests, to diplomatic communique. He frowns, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits a beat for the elevator. There had been a recent communique from the Coalition. It wasn't uncommon, but it hadn't happened in, what, two or three years now? Certainly enough time to have forgotten the last time he saw any of the crew on an official basis and certainly long enough to forget just what that little check-up meant. He holds back a particularly violent shiver. It's nothing this time—has to be. Prometheus hadn't done anything new or interesting in months, let alone enough to warrant an investigation. If the Interspace Investigation Coalition needed something from Xisuma, Admiral Void, it was going to take a very special visit and a lot of convincing. Not words on a screen.

By the time the thought passes through his mind, Xisuma is already at his front door. He shakes away the feeling crawling up the base of his spine and taps his keycard, door sliding open at his behest. 

"Doc?" he calls, as he enters. "I'm home."

The front entry is still warmly lit as he toes off his shoes and organizes his coat and bag at the front door. The living room is dark, aside from the faint glow of blue light, as are the desks they share and the kitchenette. Xisuma hums, frown deepening. He makes his way into the living room as he starts unclasping his overcoat, hands fiddling with the zipper behind him.

There, sprawled haphazardly on their small sofa, is Doc. One of his legs bends under the other, his ankle propped on the arm of the couch, socked foot hanging just over the edge. His pajamas are ruffled from moving, rucked up over one side of his ribs where his arm stretches to cover his eyes from the dim, ambient light. Xisuma stifles a snort that then catches the back of his throat. He looks comfortable. To an extent. Enough to fall asleep, at least, and enough to stay that way, even as Xisuma had called out to him and noisily shuffled in. 

X crosses his arms. He has but two options: one which requires him to deal with a sleep-disoriented, disgruntled Doc M now. The other: listening to him complain about tight muscles as he slipped into bed later that morning, seeking out the shape of Xisuma he missed. On one hand, X would get his partner's warmth and weight and grumbled words sooner. On the other... he looks so dang peaceful he'd almost feel bad disturbing him. Xisuma smiles to himself—the image alone of Doc crawling into bed next to him and letting X curl tiredly around him seems wildly comforting. A little selfish, but, really, who could blame him? 

Quietly, Xisuma shuffles over. He lifts the blanket from the back of the couch, ruffling it lightly in his hands as he sets it over Doc's sleeping form the best he can. Shrouded by the multicolored fabric, Doc seems to shrink, just a bit. Clearly cozy and comfortable, his face remains soft, sleep smoothing out the lines of stress on his face. X tucks the blanket carefully around his partner, careful not to jostle him awake as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. Upon drawing back, Doc doesn't seem to stir, and Xisuma hums his thanks to no one. He steps back, satisfied with his work, and shuffles off to bed.

[iron-sparrow]

⸺ every time there's a new sunrise ♪

[allastoredeer]

Just had a hilarious thought.

Yes, Alastor is attracted to power. But his coming to that realization was not prompted by Lucifer or even Vox.

It was seeing Zestial!

Imagine: He first arrives in Hell, and he's still building up for his big reveal, and then sees Zestial putting on some impressive power display and was like: Oh.

Z was his first aesthetic crush. Thankfully a passing one, but it explains why he respects him so much.

It puts a whole new spin on his reaction to Zestial appearing in front of him on the street in Episode 3. Then his immediate order for the EggBois to shush, despite barely tolerating them before. "Shut up, he needs to think I'm cool."

Okay, okay, okay, I got, like, 3 messages side by side the other day (including this one), that involves Vox as well, and I've been super sick the last few days, so I read this in my migraine, dehydrated addled state and cooked up an entire backstory with Alastor and Vox, which includes Alastor's attraction to power (and his previous attraction to Zestial), and his falling out with Vox, and why they are what they are, and Velvette was in there somewhere, but now that I'm not longer sick I only have fragments of that glorious, complex, multi-faceted, super emotionally charged relationship, and I'm pretty sure most of it spawned from this.

That's all to say, I am so so SO fucking on board with Alastor's first crush being Zestial because when I watched episode three when it aired, and saw them interact, my first thought was "I ship it."

Literally, I shipped Alastor/Zestial before StaticRadio or AppleRadio. Alestial was my first Hazbin ship 😂 So this is just dasdfjlnsaklfjna YESSSSSSSSSS

"Shut up, he needs to think I'm cool." It's okay, Alastor. Zestial thinks your the coolest. Your the most entertaining Overlord on the block. He told me himself.