#the worried look on his face would be so pure and precious like– guys i want him to take care of me so bad...

[thekinslayed]

Sweet Disposition

summary | Gwayne is welcomed to King's Landing by his beloved niece.

pairing | gwayne hightower x niece!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral (m), oral (f), just the tip, cum eating, reader has blue eyes and red hair, gwayne is a classist (and is in love with the niece that looks like him lol), incest, lotsa rubbing, lotsa yappin'

song rec | Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap

wordcount | 3.2k

note | welcome to the stage, gwayne hightower!!! i just had to, u guys. i’m not too sure how the age gap’s looking since idrk how old gwayne is, but do assume they did stuff the first time when the reader was of age :)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

“Ah, sweetling!”

You squealed at the sight of him, rising from your seat by the window to rush over to the door. Your uncle grunted in surprise as you jumped into his arms, chuckling amusedly in your embrace. You had waited all day for him. Worry began to fester in your gut when there was no sign of him as the day grew dark. Mother said they must’ve gotten held back by the impending storm that was painting the blue sky a desolate gray. However, the gods have granted you your wish. Soon enough, a flurry of green flashed through the gates of King’s Landing, and Gwayne Hightower made his way to find you.

“What took you so long?” you asked, pouting at him. His chest rumbled against yours in another chuckle, the rich sound of his amusement a lively song.

“My deepest apologies, princess. Some trouble down in the Kingsroad had us going a longer way. No worry now, I am here,” he explained, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “Brother dearest keeping you locked in here?”

You scoffed, pulling away from your uncle. His bright blues wandered around the expanse of your chambers, observing the various Valyrian tapestries decorating your walls. He admired you, as you trailed your hands over the cushions of the settee. Pure Targaryen, all except for the vibrant red of your curls. That was all Hightower, much to his delight.

“More so mother than Aegon, he doesn’t give two shits about me. Either way, it’s always him and mother huddled together in those council meetings. And Aemond, when he’s not off to gods know where. War feels pretty boring if you ask me,” you responded, earning a raise of the eyebrow from the redhead. 

“It won’t be boring once thousands of men die for your cause, princess, all so you could stay here and sit prettily while we fight for you.” He remained standing as you plopped down onto the plush chaise, reaching for a cherry from the plate of fruit situated on the side table.

It was tart, bursting with its dark juices as you sunk your teeth into its plump flesh. Gwayne watched as you wrapped your lips around the round fruit. It tainted your lips a luscious red, utterly delectable.

Your brows furrowed in offense, while a frown turned your pretty lips downward. “Are you saying I’m useless? If only I were given the chance, I could fly off on my dragon and burn more than half the enemy’s army before you could even engage,” you said, to which Gwayne replied with an understanding nod. 

“I know you would, darling, but we cannot have you harmed. You are too precious to be sent off to battle, take it from me,” your uncle replied, placating. You huffed, grumbling under your breath, making Gwayne bite back an amused smirk. Throwing away the cherry’s pit, you grabbed a strawberry this time, wrapping your fingers around its leaves to deliver it in one bite. Your cheeks had hollowed as you sucked on its juices, provocating… inviting. This had wiped the amusement off the elder Hightower’s face, making him clear his throat and shift where he stood, A smirk of your own rose on your lips at this success.

“How does Daeron fare?” you asked nonchalantly. Gwayne shrugged, waving a hand dismissively as he continued his exploration of your apartments. It was quite spacious, though the smallest out of the entire royal family, but it was comfortable enough. It was situated at the far end of the hall, farther away from prying eyes and curious ears.

“You know him, itching to fly back at a moment’s notice,” your uncle informed, to which you nodded in understanding. In truth, you hadn’t spent much time in King’s Landing, only in recent years. When the youngest was sent off to Oldtown to squire, you were tasked with accompanying him as his eldest sister. You were ten and five then, only returning after six years when your grandsire decided it was high time for you to be married off. In your time away from the capital, you had missed much, evidently enough. The war had put any courtship or marriage proposals on pause, which aggravated you. If only you had known, you would have spent your days back in Oldtown happily. With Daeron and your dragons. With Gwayne.

“Not curious as to how I’ve been, little red?” he mused. You smirked at him, tilting your head to the side in feigned curiosity. 

“How are you then, uncle? Missing your little squire?” you queried, teasing. Gwayne narrowed his eyes at you, which you mimicked. You were no stranger to your uncle’s tastes. Being away from the careful watch of your grandsire allowed him much freedom to do as he liked, especially when the old codgers were asleep. It was why you hadn’t seen much of him in your first years in Oldtown. The elder Hightower used to barely show an interest in his sister’s children, kept occupied by the pursuit of his merriment. He remained detached from you, up until you accidentally came across some unknown servant stumbling out of his chambers late one night, doublet unbuttoned and breeches unlaced. It sparked your curiosity, had ignited a carnal hunger deep within you. He had opened your eyes to such proclivities, had broken away the conservative mold your faith had locked you in. 

Gwayne feigned a sarcastic laugh, walking around you to your window. “Funny.”

One could see the vastness of the horizon past the Bay from this view. The breeze a salty, refreshing prickle. It held little of the nose-scrunching stench of Flea Bottom. You craned your head to watch your uncle face the wind. His hair had gotten longer, you noted. It looked better. “Though I am a bit peeved to travel all this way to not be welcomed by my whole family, but I suppose our new Hand has been keeping your mother company,” he said, a bite of bitterness in his tone.

You stood from your seat, approaching to stand by his side. The greens of your garments matched perfectly, and so did the reds of your tresses. You were always happy to look more Hightower than Targaryen, though your blood always ran hot, much like a dragon’s.

“Jealous much? Perhaps you could ask to join them,” you teased, bumping your elbow into his playfully. Gwayne merely rolled his eyes at your implication. The sight of the Dornishman leaning too close to his sister had confirmed the rising suspicions his father had made him aware of. How convenient it was for him to be made Hand too, granted a position that brought him closer to Alicent’s level. And to share her bed at night. How exhilarating it must be to a man like Ser Criston.

“I’d rather indulge with someone that stirred something in my loins without stepping on my shoulders for leverage in this society, thank you very much.”

“Anyone in mind?”

Gwayne turned to meet your gaze. The blues of your orbs were much like his, icy and deep. He could see the freckles that dotted the bridge of your nose from the proximity, could spend all day to count each one of them. The corners of his lips quirked upwards, as fast as a blink, before pursing.

He regarded you with a gaze so familiar, yet tantalizing enough to warm the meat underneath your skin. The hairs on the back of your head stood tall in attention, prickly underneath his stare. He turned his body to face yours, and you followed suit. Gwayne could almost feel the heat exuding from you, the dragon that you were, from this distance. Almost. 

You watched him watch you. The momentary flicker of his eyes to your lips was not overlooked, igniting a spark of excitement deep in your chest. Your feet took a step closer to him, nearly closing the gap. Gwayne mimicked you, taking a step of his own. The air between the two of you grew thick, almost dizzying with tension, but neither of you made the move. This was a familiar game with your uncle. It always left you thirsting for more, had made you an addict. It had you almost sneaking off on your dragon back to Oldtown just for a taste. 

“When are you to set off then?” you asked, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. You felt his fingertip begin to trace the outline of your curves, though you paid them no mind. 

“Well, it was supposed to be on the morrow, but this storm hasn’t worked out in our favor. In two days’ time, perhaps.” He had flattened his hand on the small of your back now, pulling you in subtly. You planted your hands on his chest, caressing the firm planes hidden underneath his doublet. His breath was hot on your face, bringing about a flush on your cheeks. 

“So soon?” you pouted. “You’ve only just gotten here.”

A heavy sigh escaped Gwayne’s lips. The skin on his neck was pale as he tilted his head back, littered with a light dusting of freckles. He was close to tipping over, you could feel it.

“War waits for no one, I’m afraid,” he muttered. You hummed in agreement, taking a bolder step by wrapping your arms around his neck. He tutted in warning, to which you only responded with an innocent bat of your lashes.

“We should make most of our time then,” you suggested, preening up at him suggestively. Your uncle bit his lip, pondering, deciding whether it was time for him to succumb to the magnetic pull of his body to yours. 

“Princess.” A warning.

“Uncle.” An invitation.

Gwayne pressed his lips to yours, sweet like cherry. You moaned in delight, a budding warmth in your chest bursting at the feel of his kiss. It was hungry, urgent, tainted with the promise of making up for the time you had spent away from each other’s warmth. Roaming hands found your rear, squeezing the plump flesh through your skirts. Your uncle’s wandering lips traveled their way downward, trailing to settle on the length of your neck. A whine echoed through your chambers as he bit on your neck, before smoothing over with his tongue. Something was starting to poke your hip, and your hand descended to cup it, earning a grunt from the redheaded man before you. 

A breath was hitched into his throat when you dropped to your knees, making quick work to untie his breeches. The heady scent of his cock was familiar, albeit he was unwashed, and it almost felt like coming home. Gwayne was your home. You wasted no time to press kisses to reddening tip, licking a stripe down the underside of his length before taking him whole. Your desperation was evident in your movements, head bobbing up and down fervently while you kept your eyes on him. Above you, the knight could only grunt, running a hand through his ginger tresses to keep himself grounded.

“How is it you’ve gotten better at this in my absence, hm? Had done your own practice?” he groaned, placing a guiding hand on the back of your head. You hummed around his length, the vibrations of your cavern making his cock jump. A hand replaced your mouth when you pulled away, stroking at a uniform pace as you looked up at him.

“One of Aegon’s friends said I certainly do it quite well. I have you to thank for the knowledge, I suppose,” you bragged, smirking when his blues visibly darkened at your words. He pulled you up back to your feet, leading you back to lean against a sidetable before claiming your lips once more. He was unbothered by the taste of himself on your tongue, nor by the spit painting both your cheeks in this messy exchange. You took hold of one of his hands to guide up your skirt, past your smallclothes, and settling on your mound. 

Gods, you were soaked. You had been the moment you felt his warmth, had pressed your nose into the familiar scent of his flesh. 

His fingertips trailed down your slit to collect your essence, before taking it into his mouth for a taste. You watched, hypnotized as his lips wrapped around his fingers. Your skirts were then bunched up to your hips, your smallclothes falling to the floor once you untied the ribbons that held them together. The figurines on your table rattled as the wood accommodated your weight when you had shifted to lean further. You beckoned him closer by wrapping your leg around his trim waist, and an arm around his shoulders. It was almost like you readied to dance as he took hold of your waist, an embrace so rehearsed, so familiar. The underside of his cock pressed against your weeping cunny, and with the sway of his hips, the sweet song of your whines filled Gwayne’s ears. His cockhead snagged against your pearl when he pushed his hips at a perfect angle, making you both moan. 

Calloused hands took hold of your thighs, dimpling the soft flesh under his hold. You gripped the edge of the table to ground yourself, throwing your head back as your uncle rubbed against you deliciously. He knew how much you liked this, well aware of how much power he held over you when he teased you with the promise of his claiming of your maidenhead. It stoked a fire deep within your loins, though today, it was not enough to burn you under.

“Gwayne…” you whined. “More… I need more!”

His red tresses swayed as he shook his head in refusal. His eyes were trained on the sight of your essence coating his cock, angling his hips to press against your pearl more. “I can’t… not yet, my love, you know this.”

You gripped his shoulders in frustration, urging him to look at you with your hands cupping his jaw. Your lips displayed your desperation as you kissed him. You have always asked little from him, naught but for one thing. 

“This could be the last time we ever see each other. Please, uncle,” you pleaded, burying your head into his neck as you sobbed. 

Your uncle had shown you much, had taught you much. However, there was one thing that was not for him to take. He dared not sully his niece, his beloved sister’s eldest girl. That kind of depravity is for Targaryens, and Gwayne thought himself a dignified man, honorable. Yet as you bit your lip temptingly at him, your brows furrowed adorably, the tight noose of virtue continued to loosen.

He grabbed hold of his cock, directing it to your slit. Gwayne kept his hand on the lower half of length to restrain himself, lest he lost all control. His tip breached your walls, reaching only far enough to feel your heat. “Just this much, and I promise when I return we will have so much more,” he panted into your ear. His thrusts were shallow, though some threatened to reach deeper, farther into your warmth. He alternated between rubbing and breaching, an assaulting tease to your senses. 

You moaned his name like a prayer. Devoted pleading. Your grip on the back of his neck was grounding, keeping his head from floating to the heavens to be here with you. You were all over him, from your hands in his hair, your lips on his jaw down to your juices that coated his cock. 

It was too late for him, he realized. To try and outrun a dragon’s fire was a futile attempt, and all he could do was welcome it with resignation. How ever could he deny himself this bliss? How could he deny you?

He came as his cockhead snagged on your folds once more, painting your mound with his pearly seed. Barely catching his breath, your hand on his shoulder ordered him to his knees. Like a devotee, the Hightower kneeled before you, descending his mouth onto your cunny. His own spend was salty as it coated his tongue, mixed with the sticky sweet nectar of your maiden core. The sight of his reds in between your thighs was a heavenly sight, and you could only pray to have him like this until the end of your days.

You were nearing your precipice, evident by the grinding of your hips against his face. With a thumb on your pearl and his tongue dipping in and out of your cunt, you came with a cry. Your uncle slurped up your release like a man starved, groaning against your mound.

When he had returned to his feet, Gwayne’s lips glistened with your essence. Breathless, you bit back a smile, but as his own flushed lips widened, a giggle bubbled from your chest. Your uncle chuckled, planting a small kiss to your forehead before taking you into his arms.

“How I’ve missed you, little red.”

“Why does it have a skirt?” 

You poked the ornate metal decorating the horse, confused at such attire. It even had a matching mask on its head, and you wondered if the poor thing could even see. 

“Tis armor. To ensure my royal steed is kept safe and no harm comes to it, and by extension, me, gods willing,” Gwayne explained, busied by the preparations of the move. Your uncle leaned closer to your ear, the distance between you tethering on violating propriety. “So I may find my way back to you.”

He was clad in his armor, silver steel paired by velvet Hightower green. He looked exquisite. If you were a lesser woman, there was no telling what you would have done right then and there, in the middle of the Keep’s courtyard. You regarded him with a dark gaze, uncaring of hiding your desire despite your mother and the Hand standing only a few paces away. 

Your chest was heavy with dread. A worrying nagging in your head growing harder to ignore. Their journey was sure to be hard, and who knows what else they were to face other than harsh terrain. What if there were dragons? What were he to do to defend himself from such fire? You would beg your brother to let you fly with them, but the fucker barely spared a second of his day for you. 

The prospect of losing Gwayne was daunting enough to drive you mad, yet there was little you could do. He could see it in your face, could feel the fear emanating from your anxious form as you watched him prepare. “Will you be careful?” you asked quietly. 

He gave you a downturned smile, heart swelling. “I will, little red, I promise,” he replied. His vow did little to quench your apprehension, evident in the way you looked at anywhere but him. The knight took hold of your elbow, giving you a comforting squeeze. “And when I return, we could tell your mother,” he vowed.

Your orbs were bright in surprise as you looked up at him, making Gwayne smile. The passing of a stableboy reminded you of your surroundings, making you huddle closer to him. “You don’t jest?” you whispered.

“Never about you,” he responded, sincerity clear in his voice. He took hold of your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. “I shall win the king his army, and ask for his blessing. Until then, wait for me, my sweetling.”

The ground thumped as the knights marched out of the city’s gates. They made for a menacing sight, a symbol for the war that was starting to brew. As you stood with your mother, you uttered a silent prayer. You hoped the gods would hear you now, would let Gwayne find his way back to you.

[lilacgaby]

prohero!bakugo but you, his wife, were kidnapped.

you sat in a dark room, the dripping of water the only sound you heard. your eyes were blindfolded, your hands restrained behind your back as you were bound to a pipe on the floor. the smell of blood filled your nostrils and you resisted the urge to gag.

"she's awake." a strange, gnarly voice you never heard before said, before ripping the blindfold of your eyes, a different man beside him shining a flashlight directly into your face.

you didn't wanna know what you saw in the corner of your eye, unmoving and surrounded by a puddle. but you were broken out of your thoughts by a voice:

"so, girlie, wanna tell us what your husbands weakness is? he put a bunch of our gang in prison some while ago, so we want him dead." a guy with a scar across his face questioned.

as you stayed silent, he pulled your hair, yanking your head forwards to look at him. "answer me, and we won't have to get ugly."

you glared at him, your eyebrows scrunching in annoyance, "no way, eat shit and die." at your words, the man slammed your head against the wall brutally, leaving a dent in the wall, and your head bloodied.

"looks like you'll be trouble huh? i'll ask you again, what's your husbands weakness?"

as you again refused to answer, the other man slapped you across the face. "maybe his next wife will learn to listen. but we'll keep you alive for a bit longer, maybe you'll have a change of heart."

they stood back, admiring their work on you. your nose was broken now, the smell of your own blood apparent to you now as it dripped over your face. your head was pounding as you struggled to stay awake.

"katsuki.." you muttered wearily under your breath, making the two men laugh at you. as you fought off tears off pain.. or was it embarrassment? you didn't know as the two feelings started to blur together.

you knew you just had to hold on. just for a second longer, he'd come for you. the tears dried up but her will didn't, even as the hours passed with no sign of katsuki.

"did your little husband forget you girl? guess you weren't as precious as we thought." the men laughed.

"y-you're wrong. he's coming, and you'll regret this." you mustered, making the men smirk. "oh yeah?"

"fuck yeah." a voice echoed through the compound, accompanied by the sound of a concentrated explosion blasting through the walls.

one of the men, shook up by his sudden appearance, and look of pure unadulterated anger, tried to run off. the other grabbed you, trying to use you as a shield for his next explosion, but katsuki just used it as an opening for a direct hit, sending him flying into the other man, rendering them both useless.

katsuki then ran over to you, untying you from your confines, and looked over you, gently grabbing your face in his hands. "shit, babe.. 'm sorry."

"you came.. i knew you would."

he took you into his arms, getting you back to safety. after this, he'd never want to let you out of his sights again, he just felt so worried, so anxious for what could happen.

but as you two held eachother, the thoughts and fears were all calmed by the feeling of your bodies in tandem.

[thecloudsaremyhome]

Abo neglectful concept

・you were born as a beta surprising right? Well you never really new love from both of your parents them being to focused on your other siblings to pay any mind to the beta outcast. Shitty nickname am I right? Well you didn't really mind you don't have th normal instincts like an Omega or alpha would so you don't feel the need to best. Or always be near. Your parents maybe that's what makes you so different you can't even smeel their scents one of the side affects of being a beta I guess. Maybe that why they didnt pay attention to you, maybe that's why they never bothered. Or forced you to best with them like they do with your siblings no matter how old they are. You tell yourself your fine but you don't feel fine.

・you still want the same love an affection your siblings get just because your a beta shouldn't have changed their live for you right? But eventually you just gave up and your at peace with being the outcast of your pack of your family. So when your 18th birthday came around you were. Ecstatic to finally be free from this unloving household of course they forgot your birthday again but that's fine. You spent your 18th birthday out partying and drinking with friends having a blast an the next day you immediately packed your stuff and left deciding to stay at a. Friends house for the time being before you could get. Your own place not wanting to stay a second longer in thar dreadful household.

・after four months that you were gone your parents finally noticed. Your absence as well as. Your siblings they decided to check your room first thinking you where in their but to no surprise. You weren't which leads to all of them frantically searching their household for you their instincts screaming at them to find you their precious baby that's when one of your father stumbles. Upon one of your diaries in your room as well as a photo collecting of you. He frantically reads the pages of all your pain and loliness the suffering you had to face all because of them. Of they are horrible parents but they promise they will bring you back no matter what

・you sigh as you enter your dingy apartment coming home from a long day of work you turn on the light to your. Loving room. Nd jump back in ailrise to see. Your two parents. Sitting in your living room with feral. Lie looks in their eyes. "What-what the h-hell ar you guys doing here?!" one of your father then says "is that any way to greet your parents after leaving for so. Long honey." your father says with a honey like tone to his voice trying to coax you to let down your gaurd

・" what are you guys doing here how did you even find my apartmentbi didn't give you the address" you state in pure confusionnignoring their earlier comment your father Gabriel Coos at you and says " oh wer are just bringing you back home sweetheart I'm sure your tired an very hungry, have you not been taking acre if yourself? Poor baby don't worry me an your papa willvtake care of you."

・"what-" before you could finish your sentence you feel a needle poke into the side of your neck. Your vision slowly starts get blurry as the affect of the drug set in your other father Sebastian scoops you up in his arms and removed the needle cooking at you as you slowly drift off thenslip th last thing you remember takingnin is your fathers face then everything goes black you then heat your father say "your going home sweetheart"

Authors note: okay I'm defiantly making a part 2 of this concept I absolutely love it be sure to share your thoughts and be on the look out for the Naga fathers oneshot coming up soon

[forever-rogue]

#19 from the grumpy sunshine tropes with Javi Pena, you write him so well and i feel like this would be perfect 🥹💕

AN | Here we have a few little snippets with grumpy!Javi and sunshine!reader! I pictured agm!Javi and Dulzura, but you don’t have to ready it as them❤️

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Javier

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Javier,” you groaned as you nudged his leg with yours shaking your head in exasperation, “don’t be such a grump all the time. You’re really bringing down the mood.”

“The mood?” he raised an eyebrow and looked around the living room as though to see who else was around, “what mood? It’s only us.”

“My mood,” you huffed indignantly, gently tossing a throw pillow at him. He’d never once considered owning something as ‘pretentious’ as a throw pillow before he’d met you, but here you were, “don’t bring my mood down or you can sleep on the couch. How about that?”

“Baby,” he’d caught the pillow and tucked it behind his head, “Dulzura. We’re just watching a bad movie-”

“A sweet romantic comedy,” you interjected, “it’s cute!”

“Fine - we’re watching a sweet romantic comedy that is objectively not great and unrealistic,” he looked you over to look at the expression on your face, only to find you struggling to hold back a smile, “but if it makes you happy, we’ll watch all the terrible - good - movies you love. Okay?”

You remained silent for a moment, and Javier grew worried for a few moments that you were somehow still upset. You’d always made fun of him for being a grump but he’d never thought much about it. You wouldn’t really hold that over him, right?

You tossed the blanket off your lap before scooting over to his side of the couch and sat down on his lap. His hands instinctively went to your hips as he held you steady and you put your hands on his shoulders. You put a hand on his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek before pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“My taste in cinema is top notch,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re just a grumpy old man and don’t appreciate these types of things as much as I do.”

“I appreciate you,” he took your jaw in his hand and gently turned your face to his so he could kiss you properly, “which is basically the same thing huh, my little sunshine?”

“Absolutely not,” you teased, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist, “but I love you so it’s okay. We can agree to disagree on these types of things.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, studying your face with a look nothing short of pure adoration, “we can, Dulzura. I love you too.”

“Smart man, Javier,” you beamed at him, “the best man.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Look at this,” your eyes were wide as you looked around the small cafe in awe. It was nearing Valentine’s day and everything was decorated in pinks and reds, hearts and glitter everywhere. For you, it was like a dream come true - for Javier it was all too much and performative, “it’s precious. I love this place. Oh, we could come back here for brunch on Valentine’s day!”

“It’s…” he trailed off, following you towards the counter to place your order, “something.”

You offered the barista your order, turning to Javier so he could place his. He looked so out of place and unimpressed that it offered you a moment of pause. Maybe you shouldn’t have forced him to come to this place with you. You’d seen this place on your way home from work and thought it might be a fun little outing; you hadn’t thought about how much Javier might dislike it. 

“Sir?” the young barista behind the counter had a huge smile on their face and you just knew that they were a huge extrovert and would have taken any opportunity to have a conversion. Javier kept his face neutral as he stood next to you and quickly offered up his order. They wrote it down and you quickly handed your card over before Javier could even think about it, “you guys can go ahead and take a seat and we’ll bring it right over!”

“C’mon,” you reached for his hand and pulled him towards a table closer towards the back, “we’ll just stay out of the way here.”

He sat down across from you with a concerned expression on his face, “sorry for being a huge ass.”

“You’re not an ass, Javier,” you snorted in amusement as he sat back and crossed his arms over his broad chest, raising an eyebrow, “you’re just not…this vibe. For actual Valentine’s Day we can do something a little more…both of us.”

“Sometimes I wonder how or why you put up with me,” he nudged your leg with his as you rolled your eyes at him, “my little ray of sunshine.”

“First of all I don’t put up with you,” you reminded him pointedly , “I love you and the fact that you’re different from me just makes us work better. But yeah this place is…a lot. Even though it’s cute.”

“Dulzura-”

“But that doesn’t mean that you have to change for me or anyone and I’m not going to change for you either, right?” you were waving your hands around in a way that made Javier smile, a big, genuine smile. You were always so animated and loud and happy; it served to make him happy too. Before you could say anything else your coffees and pastries were dropped off with a bit of razzle dazzle, “I don’t that…of course there’s things we’ll have to work on and comprise eventually but ultimately-”

“Relax,” he reached across the table and put your hand on top of his, “I know what you mean, baby.” 

“Okay,” you took a sip from your coffee, take a moment to savor the sweetness, “I know I can be a lot sometimes, but if its ever…too much, you know you can tell me. I don’t want to-”

“I love you and your lotness,” he promised, “and I don’t ever want you to change.”

“Are you-”

“Positive,” he promised, taking a sip from his own black coffee. You always teased him about having terrible taste in coffee but he would just then make fun of you for cream with a hint of coffee, “stop worrying so much.”

“Fine!” you agreed with a laugh, “thank you for suffering through this with me. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he grabbed your cup and took a sip of it and his face almost immediately contorted into a frown, “but I’ll never understand why you like this stuff. That we can always disagree on.”

“Agree to disagree!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Javier looked around the kitchen and cringed slightly. It looked like a dessert bomb had gone off and exploded all over the place. But at least the cake he’d been making, or attempting to make rather, was in the oven. If he started cleaning now, he theoretically should have everything cleaned up before you got home. You couldn’t kill him if the kitchen was clean, right? He hoped so anyway. 

He grabbed the tea towel and flung it over his shoulder before assessing the situation. While he was making his mental game plan, he was too absorbed in his thoughts to hear you open the door. 

“Javi?” you called out to him softly as you walked to the kitchen, curious as to what the delicious smell was. Unfortunately, he hadn’t heard you, but you found him, standing in the middle of the mess that was your kitchen. Your jaw dropped as you looked around; this was going to take a while to clean properly, “what the hell?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, as you spoke more to yourself than anything else. This much he heard and he whipped around to look at you with a worried expression, “dulzura, I…you weren’t supposed to be home for another hour!”

“I finished work early,” you could see that he was trying to usher you out of the kitchen, holding out his arms to try and block you from seeing everything. But you’d already seen it all, “Javi-”

“Just…go on and relax and take a shower or something-”

“Javier,” you slipped under his arm so you could see everything up close and personal. You could feel your eye twitch as you took in the crazy scene. You stepped over to the oven and peeked inside - at least that much smelled good, “what is that?”

“Umm…it’s supposed to be a cake…isn’t that obvious?” you looked back at him and found him offering you a nervous, tentative little smile. Your heart melted at that, “I didn’t mean to make such a mess…it just sort of happened. I’m sorry…”

“You made a cake?” you looked at him with wide, soft eyes, “whatever for?”

“For you,” he stated as though it was so obvious. You supposed, really, that it was obvious, “I was just trying to surprise you.”

“That’s…you’re…” you waved your hands around as you tried to find the right words, “I love you. So much.”

Before he could say anything else, you threw your arms around him and pulled him in for a tight hug. It took a moment for his brain to catch up before he hugged you back, “I love you too, Dulzura.”

When you pulled back, you kissed sweetly, leaving him longing for more, “you’re a grump sometimes, you know? But you’re my favorite grump.”

“Hmm,” he hummed in content, “I’ll clean up the mess.”

“Don’t stress about it,” you insisted, “I’ll help you.”

“You don’t-”

“I’ll help you,” you repeated, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, grinning when you grabbed the towel from over his shoulder, “and then cake.”

“And it better be good!”

“And if it’s not?”

“If it’s not…it’ll still be great because you went through all the trouble of making it,” you reassured him, “and you’re really hot so that just makes everything better.”

That caught him off guard and caused him to laugh loudly as you shrugged innocently, “thanks Dulzura. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d suffer terribly,” you grabbed another tea towel and tossed it at him, “now let’s get this place clean so we can eat cake!”

[answer2jeff]

⟡ 'Cause I want you. ⟡

thinking about jealous daddy!lip x spoiled sweet girl!reader rn.

❤︎ warnings: brief mention of a daddy kink, suggestive and mentions of sex but not smut, extremely NOT cannon lip (after S1), girly & hyperfeminine reader (but she's not a bimbo. don't even try to make this misogynistic I swear to god, just let me live my trashy pastel-grunge truth), intimacy, sweet and tender yet very angry and jealous lip.

also hi yes I'm back!! for now.

song that inspired this fic: I want you, by Summer Camp. ❤︎

if lip actually had the security and control to admit to his jealousy without finding statements to make in front of anyone who expressed the smallest amount of interest in you, the two of you wouldn't be sloppily making out against a stall door in the bathroom of The Alibi right now.

"I fuckin' hate when he looks at you like that," he breathes against your neck, almost sounding more worried for your safety, while simultaneously coming off as a promise to destroy the pale, dorky face of the customer that came in on thursday nights (seemingly just to stare at your ass when you'd turn away) if he ever smiled at you too enthusiastically ever again. your cheap heels clicked against the tile as you parted away from his lips and walked towards the mirror. you wore them to get tips. lip loved them, but hated that they worked on other guys. yet, he let you win. lip's arms wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed against your back as his mouth came to grant you a kiss on the side of your head. you frowned at the sight of your makeup nearly disintegrating. your hair fell flat, simply draping over your shoulders without the former magic of round-brush and blowdryer waves. unsurprisingly, lip seemed to like you even more this way.

it frustrated you, but you learned to appreciate his love for "the real you." if you could, you would kiss his lips so hard his entire fucking face would bruise for days. unfortunately, no amount of passion or intensity could achieve that. for now, you'll just hold his hand so tight that every knuckle would crack if you weren't careful enough, while he pounds into you, whispering praises of 'I love you,' and 'you're so goddamn perfect.' he wanted you to fucking cry as he caressed your cervix with gentle, deep strokes. and you did. hot tears trickled down your pretty little face that was red with the slap of lip's palm against your cheek just minutes ago.

but that wasn't of much concern right now. for once, all the two of you wanted was to get the fuck home. maybe lip could even run a bath if either one of you had decently warm water. you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into one last tongue-filled kiss of the night. he grabbed your hand before sneaking the two of you out of the women's restroom and running through dozens of people to get through the door.

"fuck, my feet hurt," you whined, feeling your shoes gnaw at your heels, forming what would become blisters by the morning. thinking you'd have to walk home in pure discomfort, lip cleared your doubts.

"c'mere," he lulled you towards him before kneeling down to remove your heels. as if you'd been watching cinderella, he removed each heel carefully, putting them down on the ground before turning around.

"what are you doing?"

"get on my back," he insisted, extending his arms and looking back to you.

"what? no!"

"do you wanna bitch and moan about how bad your 'precious feet' hurt the whole way back or not, babe?"

you were silenced. annoyed, you picked up your heels and held them with just the strength of your index and middle finger in each shoe. hesitantly, you climbed onto lips back and felt a giggle of anxiety erupt from you. he laughed back, likely not realizing you were more nervous than you were flattered. needless to say, he carried you the entire 3 blocks to your apartment. unfortunately you did have to walk up the stairs by yourself. and barefoot at that. but it was definitely worth it. after digging for your keys in your purse, lip cracked the door open and you nearly unraveled completely as you tossed your shoes onto the floor. you folded onto the soft duvet of your bed, your sheets melting into your skin like butter. feather pillows cushioned the landing of your face.

"tired, huh sweet thing?" lip cooed, shutting the door behind him and kicking off his shoes. he then unbuttoned his jeans, balling them up and tossing them in a basket he hoped was a hamper. the sight of you in those jean shorts and tank top made him want to take them off, but not in the way you initially thought. he tapped your shoulder, telling you to turn over. thinking he just couldn't resist you, you smirked as he took off your clothes, even unclasping your bra. he lifted his shirt above his head and handed it to you. for a moment, you were confused.

"oh," you muttered.

lip saw the surprise in your eyes before you put on the grey t-shirt that absorbed the smell of cigarettes and his cologne.

"what?" he asked, planting a kiss on your forehead before crawling into bed with you.

"nothing," you cleared your throat, both enamored and slightly embarrassed, "I just thought you had something else in mind."

he wanted to laugh, but he knew of his reputation. the way his body craved yours when the words "please, daddy," hit his ears, and how just a kiss was enough to get him begging you to call him that sultry name again, telling you how much he loved to hear it leave your pretty mouth. so he didn't laugh. instead, he just shrugged his shoulders, playing dumb.

"I mean, I love fucking you, you know I do, but-"

"I get it, lip," you smiled, pulling the covers over the two of you. lip pulled you into his arms, his bare chest against your clothed breasts that felt soft and plush. moments like this mattered to you. it made you realize that he really was all about you. for once, your naked body only brought sex as a second, maybe even a third thought. it angered you, and yet it was so lovely at the same time. you started to question if it was really that insane to chain your feet together so he could never leave. but you'd never ask him. not because he'd say no, but because you knew he would and he wouldn't mean it. he already chained himself to you a long time ago. the day he saw you he melted his heart into yours.

"I love you. like, a lot," he sighed.

lip pulled away just so he could cup your cheek, gently and hungrily kissing your swollen lips. the look of greed in your pretty eyes entranced him once again. fuck, he loved you. he loved you so much he felt like he could wrap his arms around you and snap every bone in your fucking back if no one stopped him. and yet, he never hurt you. even just a slap of dominance across your beautiful face felt like too much somedays. so, it was rare.

"I love you," you said, your eyes darting around as you took in every detail of his face. "why did you do that for me?"

you were asking about the whole piggy-back-ride-home. its not like lip didn't do things for you. he did plenty, actually. lighting your cigarettes, helping you with homework before you graduated, renting books for you from the library so you could have as many books at a time as you fucking wanted, kissing you even when you had thick lip gloss on. but carrying you home seemed like something he would've taunted you for even asking for just a year ago.

"because I wanted to?" he answered in that same questioning tone, raising a brow and gently passing his thumb over your cheek, cradling your face gently.

"'cause I want you?"

[darkestspring]

How did Aegon’s platonic yandere tendencies start?

it started off slowly, aegon was curious about his second youngest sibling. he'd never really connected with helaena or aemond, he barely considered them his siblings so he wanted to meet you, out of pure curiosity.

You were so small??? just a small baby lying in that crib as you babbled and wriggled around. You looked up as you noticed him, purple eyes staring up at him blinking.

He thought you'd cry, and he'd leave and that would be the end of it but you smiled as you peered up at him, hands reaching out for him and he stayed, letting you latch onto his hand.

You were so happy to see him, you'd be the first. No one was ever happy to see him.

Throughout the years it started off slowly, it started off as protectiveness. You always always happy to see him. "Brother!" You always called out to him so happily as you raced after him, ignoring the scoldings to not run.

You were so precious, his lovely sister. You never lost your happiness at seeing him, it made him want to keep that smile forever. You were his sister. Helaena and Aemond most likely didn't like him, he didn't like them either and daeron. Daeron wasn't even a thought.

Protectiveness turned to overprotectiveness when your mother's scolding brought you to tears once. He had heard your sobs as your mother relentless scolded you for skipping your lessons in efforts of searching for Aegon.

"Again! Why must you go against my every word! It's bad enough that I have one child that never listens to me, now I have you to worry about as well?!" Alicent paid no mind to your tears but he only stopped once Aegon positioned himself in front of you.

"That's enough." He hissed at her, Alicent looked taken aback by his defense of you but her face hardened and you flinched as you heard the smack of her hand connecting with Aegon's cheek.

"Why can't my children just listen to me?!"

"B-Brother?" You sniffled as you peered up at him as your mother stormed away, your hands clutched at his shirt. You saw the red mark and a sob tore from your throat.

"It's okay, don't cry. Brother's right here." He soothed you softly as you clung to him. Aegon had never considered going against his mother until he saw you crying. You looked better when you smiled. He didn't like seeing his sister sad.

He didn't care if he was beaten, as long as you were happy and smiling then he didn't care.

overprotectiveness turned to murderous intent when he saw a knight sneaking into your room.

That guy? Did he really think himself worthy of you? You who shines like all the stars in the sky and smiles as brightly as the sun? No one would ever be worthy of you, especially not this fucking nobody knight.

Did aegon feel shame over killing him? No, he deserved it. Did he feel shame over getting blood all over your clearly loved room? Yes, because he knew it would be hard to explain away. But he did it all for you.

because you were his beloved sister

[freeeggbailiffcash]

Finally,okay. I wanna say this,imagine if kahar didn't come to Kudrat but instead go to Kolej vokasional for the arts,do you think he will meet fakhri when Beja introduce fakhri to said kahar when they are in an office job together?

Fakhri was lowkey worried about this new job of his—and it's not just because he's still the teensy bit scared of Reza (shut up Ayam).

In hindsight maybe it was kind of a dumb decision. He met Reza back when he was in Kudrat purely by chance, because Reza was one of the more proactive alumnis and often come to the school for volunteer work.

It just happens that Reza had come just in time to see Fakhri absolutely obliterated the shit out of Ariz who decided to fuck around and find out.

He expected Reza to be more welcoming to Naim who was a prefect like he was. Instead Reza was completely entranced when he discovered that he and Naim had somehow formed a partnership where Naim was KP while Fakhri became Kapla.

Though he was met with absolute prejudiced when Reza first learnt that Fakhri was a new F4 student—he grouched something, something in his weird Kelantanese accent.

Who knew that a couple of years later, he'd be here, working under they guy.

Guess, fate does work in mysterious ways.

So Fakhri was in the middle of a brief, idly taking note of everything Reza explained, sans his Kelantanese accent, when he walked in.

A guy wearing the ugliest short sleeve hoodie that was stained with oil or something of the likes, with curly unruly hair and carrying a large box.

At first, Fakhri almost wanted to blurt out, 'kau sesat ke bang?' Seeing as the guy stuck out like a sore thumb in sea of people in corporate white pressed shirts.

But he thankfully refrained himself and watched the guy with mild curiousity.

"Bechik!" Reza called out easily, "nanti letak jah benda tu semuo atas meja."

Fakhri hummed to himself, maybe the guy was a staff from another branch or apart of the office building.

He was about to continue his work when said 'bechik' (what kind of name was that, anyway?) looked up and beamed at them—technically at Reza.

"Comelnya mamat ni," Fakhri muttered out unconcsiously and immediately froze.

Shit.shitshit.

What the hell was he thinking—fuck he didn't know if Reza was even okay with that sort of thing.

What if Reza was a fucking homophobe? He was gonna lose his job in lesser than even a fucking hour—

"Kau cakap aku comel ke?" Cute curly haired guy with a mole suddenly asked him, looking completely amused.

Fakhri's brain shortcircuited.

What should he fucking do? Should he think with his dick or his fucking brain?

But the worst Reza could do was beat him up anyway and Fakhri's used to that since their impromptu sparring sessions in Kudrat.

"Bechik," Reza cut in sternly, "jangan kacau pekerja Ja."

'Bechik'pouted and Fakhri really has to wonder what kind of parent would name their child bechik?

Before Fakhri could respond or save face in any way, the cute stranger—Bechik marched over to where Fakhri sat, leaned into his soace and grinned wildly.

"Hi, nama aku Abdul Kahar bin Abu Yamin."

Fakhri's heart almost seizured at the name dropped.

Fuckkkkkkkkk, he just embarassed himself in front of the precious last son of Dato Abu Yamin.

Damn.

[carakook]

The Astronaut ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"He feels like he’s an Astronaut who discovered a new moon colored in shades of your love, beautiful little stars surrounding it with Saebyeol’s precious little face in every single one. He has no idea how he got so lucky."

•¨•.¸¸☆*･ﾟﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*••¨•.¸¸☆*･ﾟﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*•

✧Pairings: dad!Kim Seokjin x mom!reader

✧Synopsis: Being new parents is hard, most of the time it’s much harder on the mom than the dad… Kim Seokjin would silently argue that isn’t always the case. Today your baby had her first round of shots, and Jin is a mess after seeing her cry. Dramatic and blubbering, you have to comfort the poor man before he turns into a baby himself.

✧Genre: Romance/Comedy/Fluff

✧Word count: 2k+

✧Warnings: Lots of talk about babies!!! Mother and fatherhood, crying, Jin being dramatic and sappy, no smut so this one is fairly tame! Talks of labor and delivery, immunization/vaccination talk (it isn’t that serious I promise), fluffy fluff fluff, lemme know if I missed anything!

✧Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

✧A/N: Here is my second request! This was a request for Jin being a dad with major fluff. It is exactly that lol. I hope you guys enjoy this lil Drabble/one shot, poor Jin. By the way…. I fucking miss Jin??? Daddy Jin better get his ass home soon I stg 😭 love you guys!

•¨•.¸¸☆*･ﾟﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*••¨•.¸¸☆*･ﾟﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*•

“Jin, Jesus, please come out of the damn bathroom.”

You wait with your forehead pressed against the bathroom door, have half a mind to fucking bang your head against it at this point honestly. Because Jin, in Jin fashion, is being so goddamn dramatic.

It hasn’t been long since you’ve both became parents, and although it wasn’t exactly planned, you’re both so fucking happy. Never have been happier.

But with becoming a parent, also comes a lot of mixed emotions. For you, of course your hormones are at an all time high after giving birth, so you’re extra sensitive. The mood swings are volatile; one moment you’re crying because your daughter hiccuped and it was too cute, the next moment you’re on the verge of committing murder because Jin looked at you the wrong way.

But even then, you’re overwhelmed with joy. Sure, the emotions give you whiplash, but it’s worth it.

Jin, however, sometimes you swear he’s more dramatic than you are. Like today, he’s a fucking mess. Today marks two weeks of you giving birth, which means you had to take your daughter, Saebyeol, to get her checkup… which also means she had to get some of her immunization shots.

Jin did not handle this well at all.

Of course the baby cried, every baby does, even adults do when getting shots; who likes getting poked with a sharp needle? But you were easily able to calm her down after the shots were done by feeding her and holding her.

It’s now been three hours since the appointment, and Jin is still in the fucking bathroom, crying like a little baby himself.

You swear that he has become more sensitive than you most days. The moment Saebyeol cries, so does Jin. If she seems upset, so is Jin. If she’s hungry, Jin is on your ass saying ‘feed my baby, you’re starving her!’

It can be sooo fucking irritating… but also, it’s the cutest fucking thing, especially since Jin is usually so calm and collected in situations like these; he’s always been the level headed one.

Your entire pregnancy, he was the level headed one. When you were worried about something being wrong with the baby, or you started nesting and fretting over every little thing around your home, Jin was there to reassure you and calm your worries. Even during delivery, he was there to soothe you; you have no idea how the man managed to stay completely calm when you sounded as if you were actually dying before getting the epidural; but he did. And he was calm the entire time…

Until he saw Saebyeol.

The moment Jin laid his eyes on her, it’s like that calm demeanor never even existed. He was a fucking mess. He started bawling his eyes out, repeating over and over again, ‘Oh my god, my baby, my star, she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,‘

After that, it didn’t stop. Two weeks later and he’s still as sensitive and protective as ever. He’s so in tuned with both you and Saebyeol’s moods and emotions, it’s as if he takes them on himself. Whatever you’re both feeling, he feels too, but ten times the amount.

More so Saebyeol’s than yours.

Which is why he is having a fit in the bathroom right now. Of course he was a wreck at the appointment, the man looked as if he wanted to punch the nurse in the face. And yes, he cried, immediately snatched Saebyeol up after the shots which caused you to have to pry her out of his arms so you could feed her. ‘But they hurt my poor baby! It’s so cruel, she’s in pain…’

God, so dramatic. But oh so sweet.

On the ride home he was crying on and off. Has been even since you both got home and Saebyeol went down for a nap. You couldn’t quite understand why, and he was being so stubborn about it. Kept saying it’s stupid and he doesn’t want to talk about it.

It is kind of stupid… but also, seeing Jin cry is almost as bad as seeing Saebyeol cry, because Jin doesn’t cry often at all. It’s heartbreaking to see this calm man breakdown over something so small.

“Jin, please, you’re starting to worry me. Can you tell me why you’re so torn up at least? Just come out of the bathroom, I’m gonna go insane…”

You try to coax him out. He did end up calming down after you both got home, but it didn’t last long because he walked in to check on Saebyeol after she fell asleep (he has a habit of compulsively checking on her, has woken her up more than once at this point doing it.) and he broke down again. But this time, the tears didn’t stop, and he ended up locking himself in the damn bathroom like a child.

What really happened, was he saw the little bandaid on Saebyeol’s arm and he lost it again. He remembered the little pout she made before she started wailing from the prick of the needle, and then he remembered the wailing, and then the sniffling, and ugh he couldn’t take it.

So yes, he is indeed in the bathroom crying. Because how dare they hurt his precious little girl? It was necessary, of course, but still, how dare they? The only reason he’s in the bathroom is because even he knows damn well how dramatic he’s being. Jin has always been a bit dramatic, it’s just part of who he is, but this time he can’t help it. And he doesn’t want to bug you with his blubbering, he knows you’re going through enough postpartum as it is, he doesn’t want to add to your stress.

But his poor baby, his poor little star got pricked with a mean needle, and he just can’t get her sad little face out of his head.

“Just give me a minute, I need to cry.”

You groan, because he’s said this four times now. You get it, he needs to cry, everyone does sometimes. Being a new parent is hard and it’s normal to be sensitive and a bit over worried about your baby. But can’t he at least explain?

“Ok, but what exactly are you crying about? She’s fine now, sound asleep as if it didn’t even happen…”

You try once more to coax him out as you speak through the door. He knows you’re right, she’s fine now, but can’t a man cry over his little girl getting hurt?

“She looked so sad… I could die, I swear, I don’t ever wanna see her cry like that again.”

You want to snort at this, because you know damn well Saebyeol will cry much worse than she did today at some point. As babies grow into toddlers, it’s inevitable that they get hurt sometimes. You can’t even imagine how he’s gonna react when she has her first fall or first knee scrape.

“Jin, baby, she’s a baby too… she’s gonna cry. She’s gonna get hurt. And she’s also gonna be ok.”

“I am not a baby. I am a father who is in distress about his baby being hurt!”

Dramatic mother fucker… literally.

“Ok, ok, I know, I know. Just come out of the bathroom, let me love on you and make you feel better.”

He sniffles at this, is starting to feel his tears dry up as he swipes at his eyes. He feels selfish for his reaction, and also a little childish at how he’s locked himself in the bathroom. But god, he’s just worried. Worried about Saebyeol, worried about you too. He doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t care about your feelings, he knows you’re going through it far worse than him.

But he could use a hug.

So reluctantly, he gets off of the toilet seat, pads over to the bathroom mirror above the sink and tries to readjust his pitiful tear stained expression, and then opens the bathroom door.

Seeing you just makes him start to cry again.

You immediately get on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his shoulders, put your fingers in his hair, and bring him in for a close embrace. “Oh baby, such a mess…” you coo at him.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and sniffles again so pitifully, taking in your comforting scent. He’s starting to think that somehow your pregnancy hormones have worn off on him, because now he isn’t crying because of Saebyeol, but because of you and how fucking pretty motherhood looks on you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Y/N. I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me…”

You kiss the top of his head and tsk at him, “Don’t apologize, you’re just a dramatic baby is all. S’fine. Just hate seeing you cry.”

He grunts into the crook of your neck, “I am NOT. I’m just a father. A father with a precious baby and beautiful wife. Can’t handle it. Don’t know what I did to deserve you two…”

Your heart both warms and breaks at the same time, because Jin deserves everything. Seriously, he has been so good to you, has given you everything you could ever wish for in life and in a relationship. He works hard for you, for Saebyeol, and for himself too. He deserves all the good things, and you wished he wasn’t so humble about it.

He doesn’t agree. Jin has always been an incredibly cocky man, loves himself so much. Has always loved himself more than anyone else… until you came along and stole his heart. He lived selfishly before you, served himself and was proud of his accomplishments. But as time went on, he learned to live selflessly, and everything he did was for you.

He never imagined he could love anything more than you, but then you got pregnant, and you had his child. He is so full of love that he can’t handle it sometimes. He feels like he’s an Astronaut who discovered a new moon colored in shades of your love, beautiful little stars surrounded it with Saebyeol’s precious little face in every single one; its why he wanted to name her Saebyeol. He has no idea how he got so lucky.

“You deserve it more than anyone Jin. So stop crying. Me and Saebyeol are happy and healthy, you should be too.”

“I am— that’s the issue, I am so happy and I have no idea how to handle it. Makes me a goddamn mess.”

You pull back a bit, flat on your feet again as you bring your hands to his forehead and brush his hair out of his face. Smile at him sweetly. God, you got lucky with him too.

“That’s ok. But maybe don’t cry over every little thing, yeah? You’re stressing me out.”

You’re only joking, of course. You’re thankful he cries, even if it breaks your heart; it shows he’s comfortable with his emotions. You just wanna make him laugh a bit, scold him playfully.

He huffs at you and pulls away, flicks his hair even as he sniffles, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least I didn’t cry when they forgot the ranch at McDonalds.”

You feign offense, pinch his arm as you huff at him, “Hey! I was pregnant and needed that ranch!”

You both start giggling at each other, which doesn’t last long because Jin’s crying seems to have woken up Saebyeol, judging by the little noises you hear coming from her nursery.

Thank fucking god she isn’t crying.

He gives you a sheepish look, “Oops.”

He isn’t sorry though, not really. He’ll never admit it, but sometimes he will consider waking Saebyeol up on purpose just so he can see her pretty little smile… but he never does, knows his precious little star needs her sleep, and his beautiful moon needs a damn break.

Doesn’t stop him from getting giddy when she finally does wake up, though.

You both walk into Saebyeol’s nursery, and there she is, cooing at nothing while she sucks on her fingers.

“Ugh! She’s starving, do you ever feed her?!”

He immediately rushes over to her as if the kid hasn’t ever been fed properly. Sometimes you wanna smack him, because you feed her literally so many times a day. There’s no way the little thing is actually staving.

But again, he’s dramatic. One of the things you’ve learned to just deal with, especially when it comes to his star.

You roll your eyes as you watch him pick her up and coddle her. But your eyes warm quickly when you see the adoration in his eyes as he holds her. He really does love her so much, loves you too, you’re both his entire universe.

She lets out the tiniest giggle at his pouty face, a smile following as she reaches up to touch his cheek curiously.

“She’s so pretty. Just like me.”

Yeah, ok, you roll your eyes again. Because of course Jin would say some shit like that while looking so serious about it.

“Yah, what about me?” You pout at him as you cross your arms, lean over a bit to look at Saebyeol as he holds her.

He waves his free hand at you, “Yeah, sure, you’re pretty.”

You’d definitely smack him on the head if he wasn’t holding Saebyeol right now.

But of course he’s kidding. He thinks next to Saebyeol, you’re the prettiest girl in the world. Could stare at you for hours, wishes he could imprint your face on his brain so everything looks like you.

He smirks at you, bumps his shoulder into yours, “Seriously babe, you’re pretty. Prettiest ever. But I guess that’s expected, I’m world-wide handsome, you know? Of course I’d have the prettiest wife and daughter.”

You cackle at this, because it is so sweet, but such a Jin thing to say. Of course he’d make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world, while also reminding you he is the prettiest man in the world.

Your cackle doesn’t last long though, because Saebyeol starts whining. She’s hungry, not starving like Jin swears she is, but she is hungry.

“Oh, poor baby, such a hungry baby, daddy will feed you, don’t you worry… won’t let mommy starve you.”

You glare at him as you walk away to prepare the bottle for Saebyeol, mutter a few unsavory words under your breathe.

Time to feed the baby before the other baby has another fit.

[alliskit]

The Grand Design.

On AO3.

CH. 2: Horror Movies Aren't Scary When You're Living In A Nightmare.

- Gale really does try; thank you Gale for always trying - Alligators - Everyone loves a cowboy shootout - Nobody loves a weak link (with a kid in tow)

I was a pool of weeping liquid as I stared up at Sylas' precious worried face, smoke rising behind him. We were still on the staircase surrounded by a devastated Nautiloid. Everything was broken apart and on fire. But, we were alive.

He was alive.

A bruise painted his cheekbone, probably from when we hit the stairs or during the actual crash that caused me to pass out. He seemed fine, otherwise. 

"How did..." My voice came out clogged and scratchy.

"The alien guy put us in a purple bubble and protected us," he finished.

"Is the alien guy..." 

Sylas shook his head. His eyes went distant, probably remembering something horrific I had been unconscious for. I sat up and pulled him to my chest, "We're alive. That's what matters."

I felt him nod in agreement, even if it seemed like hollow acceptance. Looking around, it was pure carnage. We needed to see if we could find some help. "Come on, love, let's get out of here."

We stood up, making a move to climb down the remaining stairs. "And go home?" he asked.

Considering I hadn't heard an update on our location since the alien mentioned Toril, the chance of going home was a long shot. But, that wasn't something I wanted to tell my six-year old who was on the verge of a breakdown. Instead, I said, "Let's try to get home, okay?"

He put his hand in mine as we stepped carefully through the wreckage. It was a miracle we were alive. Besides my distaste for being abducted, the tentacled aliens had been kinder than expected. I fully anticipated being an experiment and surely was about to be, but part of me thanked the small kindness they exhibited to keep us alive. It was something they didn't have to do. 

"Mom, look!" My heart jumped a little. "Footprints," he added. I thought of the three who had taken control of the ship. Maybe, one of them lived. Maybe, they all did. Hope lit like a small spark over old coals. 

"Let's follow and see if it leads somewhere we can get help." I pushed a little between his shoulders moving him forward as we followed the footprints in the sand. Sadly, the sand quickly began to pack into harder ground, erasing the prints at the top of the small hill. 

"Whoa, what's that?" Sylas asked pointing. 

As we stared at the swirling vortex in a rock, I realized I would be answering that question a lot.

"I'm not sure, bud, but stay back here. I just want to make sure it's safe." To be completely honest, it was pure curiosity - not protection - that drew me to check it. I jumped back as a hand shot out waving from the void. 

"Is that a hand?" my son asked from several feet away.

"Yeah, I think it is," I replied watching it wiggle back and forth. 

A voice called out of the hole in a language I didn't know. "What did he say?" Sylas called. 

I looked back at him, "How do you know it's a he?"

He shrugged, "Sounded like it? I dunno. Maybe a lady with a deep voice?"

"Guess we're about to find out." I turned placing a foot on the rock near the swirling and gripped the hand, pulling back hard. I didn't anticipate the feeling of being sucked forward and ended up twisting harder than I realized in response. The new person and I flailed as they landed on top of me, hitting the packed ground with a grunt. We awkwardly rolled off one another, the stranger's face reddening in embarrassment and mine with effort. 

He talked with his hands, saying something I assumed was his translation of 'I'm so sorry'. I waved him off kindly, signaling it was alright. 

He asked me a direct question. I stared at him trying to consider what to do. Sylas beat me to it, "What is he saying, Mommy?"

I turned my attention to my son, "I can't understand him. He doesn't speak English. I'm not sure what to do now."

Sylas shrugged again and stared, concerned, at the stranger.

I looked back at our new companion dressed in a weathered, and now dirt stained, purple robe with shoulder length brown hair, pulled back, and a five o'clock shadow. He was, what I would consider, conventionally attractive. He had a tattoo creeping out of his chest, over his collarbones, and up his neck on the same side as a silver earring. If he had two, he was now missing the other. He watched me and Sylas with compassion and empathy, and held up a finger to signal to wait.

Sylas gasped in delight as the man spoke, moving his hands in practiced motions, weaving around purple light into different shapes. He walked over to me and spoke again as he touched me lightly on the shoulder. He smiled and nodded, then held out his hand, saying, what I can only assume was his name and possibly 'hello'. But, it was still in his own language. I watched him in confusion and he looked confused back, then looked down at his hand, concerned. 

He did the spell again quicker, then touched his chest. He pointed at me then at his mouth, saying something else. 

"I think he wants you to say your name," Sylas added. 

"I got that, but thank you."

"And I got that," the stranger added.

I flicked my head to him, "How?"

"A spell of Tongues to do the trick," he smiled. 

Sylas stepped up to my side, "Did you just do magic?"

His kind smile spread into pure enthusiasm, "Ah, a quick young man, I see. Yes, it was indeed magic. Have you no mages where you're from?"

Sylas shook his head. "No, only clowns and they aren't real. They're just dress up."

"Many a clown is simply dressed as a man," the stranger quipped.

The six-year old stared blankly up at him.

"A little over your head then," he turned to me as I licked the inside of my cheek trying not to laugh. The man had some jokes. "I'm Gale of Waterdeep."

I pointed at myself, "Abigail of..." There was a very slim chance this complete stranger from another planet, possibly another dimension, knew of Earth.

He smiled politely, "It's alright, you don't have to say. Unless, you can't remember?"

"We live in Washington," Sylas interjected. 

Gale squatted down and held out his hand, "Gale of Waterdeep, to whom do I have the pleasure of thanking for my grand rescue?"

Sylas held out his hand to shake Gale's, "My name is Sylas Andrews. Why are you wearing a dress?"

Gale flinched as he shook my son's hand, but recovered quickly. Then looked down at his robe, feigning shock. "Why it's no dress, but a great wizard's robe!"

"Whatever you say," Sylas teased.

"I'm so sorry," I added quickly. 

Gale shook his head, "It's quite alright, I assure you. Children are notoriously cheeky."

"Do you have children, Gale?" he had been so quick to entertain Sylas. It was easy to guess the man either had children or was an attentive uncle. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. "I am flattered you think me so well adjusted to children. Alas, I have none of my own."

I nodded, absently. The conversation started to die between us. 

I watched as he quietly took me in completely for the first time. I was clad in a dirty cotton shirt and jeans, with hiking boots and my gun safely holstered at my waist. Sylas was in a short-sleeved shirt, cargo shorts, and boots (Leave the description or trash it?). A flash of concern and confusion was followed by a kind grin as he pointed at me, "You were on the Nautiloid as well, I take it."

"The space ship was super weird. And the aliens were so ugly, but they were nice," Sylas interrupted.

Gale's brow rose, "We clearly had differing experiences," then he looked back to me, "We're you on the receiving end of an unwelcome insertion?"

I laughed oddly thinking about the grubby worm that chewed through the other abductee's eye, then shook my head, "I got lucky. They did try, though."

Gale's brows bunched in apparent confusion and wonder. "How, might I ask did you avoid that?"

I pursed my lips as I signaled with my eyes to my son.

"A long story, one for another time, I presume," he added slyly.

I nodded, looking down at a suspicious Sylas, "A very long and boring story."

Gale gave me a mischievous grin, winking in understanding. "Well, first, thank you for pulling me out of that stone. Hopefully, I will have ample opportunities to return the favor."

"You're the first human I've seen that's not dead, so it would be nice to team up. I assume, by your previous question, that you have a worm in your head?"

Gale sighed, "Unfortunately, I've been made an involuntary host. I may have only a few days to live if we don't find someone to extract it."

"Days?" I felt my face contort in muted horror. I truly did get lucky. "I watched them place one in someone else's eye and it looked like it chewed straight through, but your eye is intact," I examined his inset dark eyes under strong brows. Purple had begun to collect under them, which I knew I must have too. I was starting to feel the exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours. If it had been only that long. 

As if thinking along the same lines, a small voice perked up, "I'm hungry. Can we get some food?" 

Gale glanced down at Sylas, "Do you happen to like apples, young man?"

Sylas nodded.

"Then I have just the thing." With a swish of his hands and a whispered word, a bag appeared from thin air.

"Cool!" Sylas' eyes grew twice as big as he watched the wizard work. Gale drew out the drama by pretending to dig around deep in the bag for the apple before tossing it over to the boy.

"I've never heard use of a temperate description as an exclamation. Alas, I'm getting older." 

I shrugged, "You and me both. How old are you anyway?"

"I'll be thirty and eight years in a couple months. May I ask your age?" he responded politely.

"I'm thirty five. Six at the end of the year... Well, I don't know how your calendar works, but I guess it would technically be midwinter."

Gale furrowed his brows again, "How my calendar works? Surely, we use the same dating systems, even if we hail from different regions."

I paused, then added, "Possibly. We could very well have the same one. I guess we will have to check. I'm not sure how long we were on the"

"Space ship," Sylas interrupted again.

Gale looked confused at the boy, "Why do you keep calling it a 'space' ship?"

Sylas' teeth crunched through another bite, his mouth full, "Because that's what it is."

Gale lifted his brows at me and I shook my head stifling a laugh. Then I glanced around us at the landscape which seemed to be shaped out of some canyons. "Did you see any other survivors before getting stuck?"

Gale shook his head, "But we should seek a healer. Well, I should, but you are welcome to join me. You don't happen to be some kind of cleric do you?"

"To be honest, Gale, I don't know what that is."

Gale's brows bunched again, "I see. Tell me again where you hail from?"

"Seattle," Sylas answered.

I leaned over awkwardly toward my son, "I don't think he knows where that is, my love."

Sylas looked up at me in confusion as Gale looked at us suspiciously. "Which, pray tell, region is this Sea Attel located?"

Sylas watched Gale like he was an idiot for asking. "Washington state, in the country of America," he stated flatly.

"And where is this America?" Gale asked.

"On a different planet," I answered quickly.

Gale's eyes went wide. "Which planet?"

"Earth," Sylas answered with a tone. 

I turned to my son, "Sylas. We're clearly no longer on Earth. We saw aliens, dragons, demons, and he can do real magic. Don't talk to him like he should know better. That's rude." 

"Sorry," he said under his breath. "We're not on Earth, mommy?" 

Gale answered instead, "You, my well traveled friend, are on Toril, on the continent of Faerun... I think. I can't guarantee we aren't on the other side of my own planet."

"Is that why he doesn't speak English?" Sylas asked.

"Yes, honey. He's not from America so he speaks a different language. But, remember, people speak lots of different languages even in America."

"Sounds just like Faerun." Gale smiled haughtily, "I can speak several languages and can read them too."

Sylas pursed his lips and nodded, impressed. I laughed. I had never seen him make the face before. 

"Glad I could impress such a fine young mind. Well," he held his arm out, "Let's see if we can't find more of us. And hopefully a healer."

As we took to walking around the wreckage for possible survivors, Gale leaned in, "I'm going to need you to tell me everything about where you're from. It sounds fascinating."

I held out my hand, "Only if you do the same."

"It's a deal." He slipped his hand into mine, but as I gripped his, he quickly pulled his out of my grasp. "Sorry," he said quickly, as he flexed a fist.

"It's okay," I said slowly, as I watched him strut ahead of our small group.

[Gale affix: 

Meeting you was a most unique experience. I simultaneously wanted to make you feel at ease, as well as garner as much pertinent information about you as I could for an overall assessment. You and Sylas spoke and were dressed unlike any I had ever come across, and I had met many an individual from differing locales and planes of existence. You still carry the most distinct of accents, even now that you're fluent. It always brings me joy to hear you speak.

Also, please include a reference about shaking your hands. I'm unsure if you were privy to my discomfort, but it surely spooked me!]

As we turned a corner, Gale threw out his staff to stop us from running into whatever he had walked into. My heart lifted for a millisecond as two familiar faces came into view, alongside a new one. But, my anxiety seized that measly hope at the sounds of yelling over brandished weapons. 

Gale turned to Sylas and I, "Let me see what's the matter and if it can be handled with diplomacy. If not, we will make a swift exit. Just stay here for now."

We saw him make his way to the new group. The others assessed him cautiously, but the black-haired one and the dragon-man settled after a few shared words. The last to respond was the one holding a knife. Gale shook hands with the other two, then the pale elf gave his hand, reluctantly. 

I looked around the scenery as Gale continued his conversation with the new group. The large river was clear and seemed to cut through the canyon. I hoped we hadn't landed some kind of Faerunian uninhabited forest. We have several of those in my home country of America. Hundreds of miles of nothing but wilderness, no civilization in sight. I doubted there was some kind of a National Guard or Forest Ranger Service that would be sent out to rescue us. But, I also hoped we hadn't landed on some kind of rural village, decimating it, or next to a large city to be arrested like fugitives.

I rubbed my chest. My heart beat erratically, causing a pain to start throbbing. All of a sudden, it felt as if no amount of Faerun's freshest air could fill my lungs fast enough. 

"Mommy?" a small voice asked, breaking my thoughts.

I looked down at my son. He pointed. Walking up to us were the newcomers led by Gale. My heart felt like it was going to rip through my rib cage. Hopefully, Gale had given them all that weird Tongues spell. 

The black-haired warrior walked up first, hand ready, but Gale threw his arm out. She looked up at him in confusion and irritation, but it dissipated as she listened to him explain what I assumed was an explanation on how I couldn't understand her. Instead, she stopped short and gave a little awkward wave and grin. I waved back just as awkwardly.

Gale, finally, turned to Sylas and I. "These are more survivors of the crash. They, also, have been, what we are coining, 'tadpoled'. So, they will be joining us." He indicated to the other woman, "This is Shadowheart. She is a cleric." He nodded to the dragon-faced one on his right, "This is Durge, he is what we call a Dragonborn. He seems to have been injured in the crash..." Durge said something to Gale. "Or possibly as he was being abducted, and is having memory issues. He thinks he may be a sorcerer or wizard of some kind. And," he stepped aside to reveal the final companion, the pale elf, "This is Astarion. He's an elf from Baldur's Gate." 

The elf, with his arms crossed, eyed me with disdain. He scanned me from my toes to my head, his face exhibiting his disapproval. I met his gaze and actively rolled my eyes, like a teen who refused to be bullied. I wasn't the one who might die in a few days, so let him judge. He looked like a court jester in his frilly doublet and could probably use some time touching grass.

Gale turned to the others again, introducing us in his language. I nodded and held up my hand in a small wave, while Sylas just stood there.

"Can they understand us, Mommy?"

I looked down at his small head, "I don't think so, hon. Why?"

Gale glanced back at Sylas, "With this spell, whenever I speak directly to you, you will hear your own language, but not when I speak directly to someone else."

He stood quiet, nodding, deciding whether to say something, "I'll tell you later," he responded. I guessed he didn't want to risk it and I rubbed his back in reassurance. I felt someone watching and saw Shadowheart smiling softly at us. I smiled back. 

"Well, I guess we had better get moving," Gale announced.

Shadowheart said something to Gale, looking back at Sylas and I, before stepping past him down the path she had been on earlier. 

"Shadowheart said to tell you to check crates and bodies for supplies. If pilfering off of corpses isn't to your taste, then don't worry about it. But, if you find anything of use, you can put it in my bag of holding."

Sylas stepped past me and up next to the wizard as the elf and the dragonborn followed after Shadowheart. "What's a bag a' holding?"

Gale smiled down at Sylas as we continued after the others around the wreck site, "It's an enchanted backpack that has no bottom. You reach in and think of what you want to find and it will put it in your hand. Though, you have to place it in the bag first. You can't just ask for anything. This isn't a djinn lamp."

Sylas' face quickly went from wonder to confusion, "What's a djinn?"

"A genie, like in the Aladdin movie," I added. (oh to have movies and tv shows...)

"Oh! The blue guy with the wishes?" Sylas said excitedly.

"Yes, what Gale is saying is that you can't just reach into the bag and pull out whatever you want. Just like any backpack, you have to put it in first. But, there's a lot more space in Gale's bag than what it looks like on the outside."

Sylas nodded, his face considering the new information. "Can I try it?"

Gale smiled, "Absolutely!"

As the wizard pulled the bag once again from thin air, I walked around the two to walk behind the other group of three as they stepped through more of the crash site. 

"More of those wretched things!" Shadowheart exclaimed, as brains with legs bolted toward us. I had missed them on our trip through the ship, thankfully.  

I watched in rapt amazement as she threw what looked like pure light at one of them, but missed, leaving a scorch mark on the floor. 

The dragonborn had started running after another with a small red sword, while the elf next to me unsheathed a dagger in wait.

I looked back and saw Gale standing guard in front of a shocked Sylas. I turned back to the fight and drew my gun, clicking the safety off, as a brain scurried out from being nearly cut in half by Durge's blade. All three were now bolting in my direction.

The elf mumbled something and I turned to see him smiling maliciously. I shook my head and turned my attention to the screeching brains (gods it was so gross to hear them make noise). As they grouped within a few feet of me, I pulled the trigger. Three echoing shots later, they laid in a small heap a few feet from me. 

Everyone else stood in shades of awe and distress, staring at me holding the gun. I glanced around sheepishly. Even Gale had paled a little. "You're welcome?" I said breaking the silence.

Shadowheart eyed the weapon suspiciously, then me, nodded, and walked off a little quicker than before. I turned to Astarion, who had been excited at the prospect of killing the beasts, and was now eyeing the gun with the same level of amusement. I looked up at Durge who was watching me like some kind of animal in the distance. I holstered the gun on my waistband clip and walked back to check on Gale and Sylas. 

Gale watched me carefully, spying the gun on my waistband. “I think I can guess as to how you escaped our fate.”

I gave him an awkward smile, “I guess you could.”

Gale ushered us after the others as they continued to pass through the ship toward the river.

Sylas pulled on my shirt. I leaned over to him, him smirking up at me, "That was really cool, mommy."

I gave him a high five.

[Jen note: That gun was so loud! Of course we got used to hearing it, but in the metal cavern, it was deafening. Gods I thought my ear drums had burst.]

We camped inside of an old crypt. I have camped in a cemetery, but this was, somehow, creepier.

I had joined in on checking sarcophagi for loot, but sleeping surrounded by them was a little disconcerting, like we were inviting a midnight visitation. Not to mention, the giant skeletal statue in a cloak looming over us in silent judgment as we passed around small bits of bread, cheese, fruit, and jars of water. I nearly expected to find my name etched on the scroll rolling out of it's hands.

We had no tents, just stolen dirty bed rolls. Well, Gale had a nicer bedroll from his bag of holding. He was polite enough to offer up spare food, but even Sylas would have to make due on what we had picked up from some of the adventurers Durge had scared off. My companions were able to get a hold of some more weapons and gear for themselves before we discovered the underground crypt, deciding to call it a day.

As we sat quietly eating around the fire, every small attempt at conversation seemed to die out among my companions. It wasn't as if Sylas or I could understand anyways. I had witnessed Gale repeat the Tongues spell on himself several times throughout the day, which I gathered meant it only lasted so long. He had stopped after we had gotten situated, which meant his magic must have limits and we were all exhausted.

"Mommy?" I looked over at Sylas.

"Yes, love?" He was glancing around the small temple that had a few old chests and long dead scribes looking as if they may have simply fallen asleep on duty, never to wake. 

"Can I look around? I'm bored." 

I truly felt for him. He was stuck with five adults on the most unusual camping trip of his life. "Sure, just don't go through any doors. If you find anything cool, just call for me, okay?"

He hopped up on excited feet, as he agreed. The others watched in curiosity and boredom as he started wandering around, then quickly went back to watching the fire, reading, sharpening weapons, or trying to rest. 

The group was odd. Now, without armor and robes, I could really get a good look at them.

The cleric, which Gale had described as a kind of battle nurse, was in some form of armor underclothing. She was much more fit than I had anticipated, but it did make sense for her occupation. Looking down at my shirt, jeans, and bare feet, I realized I really needed to get back 'on the horse' when it came to being in shape. The gun allowed me to keep up for fighting, but when I ran out of bullets I was going to need to swing a sword and I definitely wasn't physically ready to do it.

Gale had taken off the outer robe and loosened the wrap shirt underneath. I could see the full extent of his tattoo over his sternum which looked bruised. He was much thinner than I realized. His collar and cheek bones were prominent. He looked like he could catch up on a few meals. The lines of his tattoo up his neck faded into the veins leading up to his left eye. It seemed like they might be connected. A magical tattoo for a wizard didn't seem so out of reach.

Durge, who was sharpening his blade, was covered in white scales, and when standing was well over six feet, a wall of muscle with red fiery eyes. It made sense why the halfling adventurer and his team had folded so easily. He was physically intimidating, especially with his sharp teeth and horned head. I had to remind Sylas several times not to stare - as well as myself - especially after he stripped down to simply pants while we made camp. I found myself blushing the few times he looked my way. If he had been more human, I probably wouldn't have been able to look him in the eye without smiling like an idiot. 

Lastly, was the elf. I had my share of attractive male friends throughout my lifetime, so I wasn't as affected by him as I was Durge. He was elegant as I expected any elf would be with high cheekbones on a symmetrical face, long pointed ears, and perfectly styled soft silver curls. It was as if he had stepped right out of one of the romantic fantasy books that were so popular these days in my world. But, just in the frilly laced undershirt, I noticed that he, too, seemed a little skinny. Maybe, skinny was Faerun's male social beauty standard. Or, maybe, both Gale and Astarion were a bit sickly. 

Red eyes caught my brown ones staring. He made a mocking sultry face, as if he were 'flattered' by my examination. I raised a brow in challenge and his face settled on a look of bored irritation as he went back to picking his oddly long nails. The red eye coloring was new to me. No one in my realm had true red eyes. Some with albinism sported almost pink or purple irises, but never blood red like the elf and the dragonborn. 

Watching those two companions in particular, I thought of an observation Sylas had made while we were setting up.

"The guy reminds me of the alligator at the zoo," Sylas said quietly.

"The albino one?" I asked at a similar volume. "Is it because he's part dragon?"

"The elf guy too."

I had eyed Astarion unbuttoning his doublet. "Why the elf guy?"

Sylas pointed to his teeth, "They both have sharp teeth. Just like the alligator."

Now, I watched Astarion bite down on his thumbnail as he hooked it with a sharp canine tooth and pulled. A small disgust roiled in my gut. Apparently, Faerun had yet to invent some kind of nail clippers. 

"What's this?" I heard Sylas say from across the room.

A hissing sound spread through the sanctum. My four companions and I shot up whipping our heads around watching the dead rise all around us.

Stone sliding on stone and rounds of what I assumed were curses echoed through the room, muffling Sylas cry of, "Mommy!" as I bolted to where I assumed he was. My companions started yelling at one another as they readied their weapons, Durge letting out a loud roar.

Shadows cast by the campfire danced up the walls making it hard to spot our new assailants spread around the room. Then the dead started their attacks, both magical and physical.

I made it to the stairs that led to a small room where Sylas was now hiding. A harsh grip wrapped itself around my upper arm, yanking me back as I came face to face with Astarion. My back slammed up against the wall, demanding something.

"What?" I said automatically.

"I said where do you think you're going?" he repeated just as harshly.

I stood there speechless in shock.

"Oh don't go dumb now, where is the weapon from earlier?" he raked.

I automatically reached back to my hip, only to find it empty, "Shit. I left it next to my bedroll." I looked out over the din of the fight to see the skeletons had started to amass in the camping area, blocking my way to the gun. 

Astarion shoved a quiver of arrows against my chest, as he leaned his face close to mine, "I hope you know your useless runt is to blame for anything that happens to me. So, at least make yourself useful and pass me arrows when I tell you."

I didn't even have time to quip back at the insult before he spun around and shot off an arrow at a dead warrior who was aiming at Gale's head. It didn't kill it, if they could be killed, but it did knock it on its back. 

"Dock," Astarion commanded.

I slipped him another. Over and over, as we made our way carefully to my bedroll, I passed him arrows as he called out for them. He shot off a few fire bolts out of his fingers, meeting ice shards mid flight in our direction. 

"Do you have it?" he called out over his shoulder

I didn't answer. I simply stood and shot off a round into one of the skulls of a warrior standing nearby, the blast shattering bone across the floor. 

"I hope you know that what I'm shooting can pass through flesh and bone, and can ricochet off stone. And I can't retrieve them like arrows either," I yelled back.

"Then don't waste your shots," he called back. "Your left!"

I turned, and sure enough, another was taking aim. I shattered another skull, the rest of the bones crumbling into a heap.

Astarion shot off another fire bolt at the same time Gale threw a red one, both aiming true at the final adversary, finishing the small battle.

The elf whipped around to face me.

"You can speak my language?" I asked quickly.

"I forced the wizard. I wasn't about to do all the heavy lifting when your weapon is so efficient."

Durge laughed darkly from behind him, shaking his head, as if not in agreement with Astarion's self assessment. The dragonborn turned and headed into the alcove at the top of the small set of stairs. 

I faced the elf again, "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on my son. He's had one hell of a weekend. He's probably terrified. It's too bad he couldn't be more useful." I stepped around him, making sure to shove him a little with my shoulder.

I found Durge and Shadowheart standing and kneeling next to Sylas who had been crying while huddled in a corner. Shadowheart patted his knee while shushing, a small attempt at comfort. Durge was standing behind her, arms crossed, watching. He nodded to me as I came up next to Shadowheart. I heard steps behind me, but refused to turn around in case it was Astarion and not Gale. 

I opened my arms and my small boy fell into them. He sobbed, his cries the only sound in the stone room for several minutes.

It felt as if he were crying for all of us. For the loss of home, the loss of autonomy, the loss of what could have been and what was. I doubted any of my companions ever expected to be standing in a dark tomb surrounded by the undead with bugs in their heads that could lead to their deaths. How fitting it was we were camping in a crypt.

As Sylas calmed, I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. I looked into the soft and tired face of Gale as I felt Sylas start to nod off in my arms. Astarion and Shadowheart had already left the room, only Durge and Gale stayed. I grinned softly up at Gale and he nodded before walking off leaving only a dozing Sylas and Durge.

The imposing figure sank down to a knee before me, then leaned his face toward mine. "I can take him to bed if you would like."

Surprise colored my face. His voice was soft, but deep, his accent more like my own than the others. "Did Gale give you the Tongues spell too?"

The dragon shook his head. "I've been able to understand you the entire time. I heard what he said about your alligators. Very observant. We've got alligators and dragons here too." He sighed, "I remember such random shit. I can barely remember my own name and I can't remember where I was a week ago, but I can remember alligators." He shook his head, a side of his mouth tipping upwards slightly, "I don't know why I can understand you or speak your language, but I'm glad to be able to talk to you. I didn't want the others to ask questions I don't know how to answer, so if we can keep this our little secret for now, that would be helpful."

I nodded, "Of course." I watched his intense eyes stare at me with impossible softness. His facial structure was incredible. Even being so distinctly reptilian, it was decidedly animated. 

He nodded toward Sylas, "I think he finally passed out. Let me get him." He reached down and scooped up my son with a surprising amount of gentleness, as if lifting a feather from the floor. 

I grinned softly up at him as we both stood, Sylas resting in Durge's large arms. "Thank you," I said quietly, setting a hand on his arm. 

Durge closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, sighing a little. He smiled without teeth, watching me. "You didn't have to do that, but gods, that was nice."

I tipped my head, "What do you mean?"

He stepped toward the doorway and looked back at me, "Your magic. It's... calming, peaceful." I cocked a brow and he chuckled quietly, deeply, "Looks like Astarion was wrong. You aren't a weak link after all." 

[Astarion affix:

I wish I could say that meeting you was eventful, but it was rather dismal. The only thing of note, which I doubt you were astute enough to decipher, was that when you rolled your eyes at me I decided then and there you would be my first mark. Whether that night or another, you were it. I do feel a bit of shame that I never once considered the implications on Sylas. I was too numb back then to care what happened to him. He was simply a small obstacle that I was willing to overlook. 

Well, if it's any consolation, we all know how it turned out.]

[murder-cookie-dust393]

This might be an odd brainrot but hear me out. How much of a world of pain would they be in if say... five cookies were to try to rescue S/O from the clutches of a Yandere Pure Vanilla Cookie?

Ok so I’m a bit confused on the wording…so I might not have completely understood. (No blame- I’m just a little dum dum)

I’m not sure who “they” was meant to be, but I’m gonna assume it’s the 5 cookies???

Ok so the 5 cookies…I don’t think it was specified so I’m just gonna spin the wheel-

We got:

KniGHT CooKie

BLACK RAISIN(????)

MOONLIGHT (SCREAMING)

Captain Caviar ✨

ALMOND TOO?? (BRO THIS WHEEL IS WILD)

Mkay so we got 2 Dilfs, a pretty princess who will beat you up, a cookie without a limb and loves birds, and…a knight.

(We should make this a game- just spin the wheel and see which cookies fight against Yan whoever lmao)

Tw: kidnapping, mention of ‘blood’, Pure Vanilla is literally insane, MC gets restrained

Ok so I know Moonlight is def stronger than Pure Vanilla so let’s ist say they’re equal for the sake of convenience.

The team of the 5 cookies were absolutely worried when their good friend literally just got kidnapped by so called “Cookie of pure hope”. What had made the healer so fucking salty that he had to kidnap them??

Thanks to Almond’s ultimate detective skills, the group had managed to find the king. He was cradling MC so tightly, like a deranged madman as his maniacal eyes stared at them.

Poor MC was quivering with fear, their arms bound to their sides. Everything about their expression screamed help.

“…Why are you here? There is no need to attack, they are simply delighted to be in arms.”

Not writing on my laptop so it’s orange ;-;

“PURE VANILLA! I demand you release them immediately! You know what happens if you don’t!”

For once, Moonlight was far from calm, a look of anger crossing her face. She glared at the blonde cookie as if he were vermin.

“Haha! Never.”

He sarcastically laughed, before frowning again, holding MC tighter to his body.

“…My king, what has happened to you?”

Black Raisin was horrified to see healer so troubled. He didn’t look like himself, his heart seemed to be…cold, for once.

“Love changed me. I realized I needed to be harsher against this cruel world who labels my love as ‘insane obsession’.”

…

“That’s because it is! A sane cookie wouldn’t kidnap someone for the sake of love! Your heart is tainted, Pure Vanilla!”

Knight Cookie charged for Pure Vanilla, but his sword was deflected by a sudden object. The knight flew back slightly by the impact, falling down.

Almond helped him stand, and the group saw a big ass Vanilla flower monster, its body towering over behind Pure Vanilla and MC.

(I’m literally bullshitting this story help-)

“Haha…This little guy here is a prototype. Since my magic isn’t for combat, I decided to make myself a guard to help me out here. He’s a good boy isn’t he?”

Pure Vanilla smiled, not in his usual innocent fashion; it was crooked, a cruel smile.

“This bastard…Looks like this won’t be an easy rescue.” Almond mumbled, as the group readied their weapons.

“I would never let you steal my precious dear from me. They NEED me. I’m their comfort. You villains!”

Pure Vanilla exclaimed in a crazed voice, seemingly offended of being underestimated.

“YOUR STRAWBERRY JAM WILL TAINT THESE FLOORS, AS IT DESERVES TO BE!”

Pure Vanilla stood, the eye of his staff wide open.

Caviar held up his ginormous cannon, sighing, “You’re almost as bad as that Black Pearl mermaid-“

——

And the ending will be up to your imagination!

If I miss interpreted the brainrot plz tell me, bcs I am willing to rewrite to its proper form.

[xstarlightxstarbrightx]

Zhongli headcanons

HI HELLO I'M BACK-- i finished my h/c list ages ago but then brainrot took over and i was caught between mini fic writing and schoolwork lmfao. anyway, zhongli's my precious lil mans and i must SCREAM abt him for a moment thank u.

current list: - FLUENT in the art of yapping. could weave a story abt a blade of grass, and y'all know bitches are listening. - i feel like most ppl are kinda intimidated by him. like regular average ppl look at him and are shaken by this sort of regal air he's got around him. - straightforward! he doesn't beat around the bush when he's got a point or needs something. this kinda thing also makes ppl more intimidated of him bc he's just very confident abt it. - WARM HANDS,,, - he gives me the vibes of a fidgeter. like he spins his rings on his thumbs, and will fiddle with the sleeves of his coat. like it's just a habit he picked up, and now he can't help but do it when his mind is wandering.

- ON THE TOPIC OF FIDGETING: Guizhong's puzzle box. Zhongli's usually pretty good abt figuring things out when he's confronted w/ something confounding/confusing, but when he can't figure it out or it's a very hard thing to work through, i am CONVINCED that he fiddles with Guizhong's puzzle box. like it's sort of like him trying to solve her final question helps him solve the current Difficult Question he's faced with. absolutely probably fiddled w/ it when he was deciding what to do abt retirement. - this man LOVES antiques and art/music (he likes a lot of things tbh) and he will do anything to talk abt them. like he's probably one of the best antique appraisers, and has stories abt specific antiques he's seen before. as for opera and music and art, he just really appreciates their creativity! also sorry he would absolutely indulge in the art of calligraphy. - he hoards rocks. listen, he hoards them. he loves rocks, and when he finds a Perfect Rock, he just yoinks it (Perfect Rocks are hard to come by yk!!!). - he's usually very sweet and nice, and has a good attitude, but i'm PRETTY sure he's got a bit of pride to him yk. - listen,,, he was in a really long war and lost a lot of ppl he cared abt in the Archon War, and i'm like pretty sure he's got battle anxiety now bc of it. like he would MUCH prefer talking things out, but if push comes to shove he will still fight; he just tends to push himself to the front so that less people get hurt. he just REALLY wants to protect people, which makes him a little self-sacrificial (he's usually fine). he's also fucking PROTECTIVE as FUCK. - Zhongli has gold blood. not red blood, gold; i think this makes him more nervous around red blood bc it means to him that someone is hurt and he wasn't able to protect them. it's equated with Really Bad Things. - back to sad things, i'm 90% sure he's afraid of forgetting things due to erosion. he's always had a good memory, so the idea that he might one day have his memories eroded is one of his greatest fears. - i feel like all of his worries and concerns have turned him from a stern War God to a very gentle mans that will make u soup when ur sick. - Zhongli and Venti are the best of friends and he would deck that guy so hard if someone asked him to. Literally besties for the resties, they hate each other but someone fucks with one of em, the other's got his back. - Zhongli talks pretty, so ya know he's got That Sass that hits different. Like it's out of left field, and it probably doesn't register as a slight at first. sometimes it takes u a good hour before u realize he wasn't complimenting u and instead was calling u an idiot. - the definition of "curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back". literally exudes pure curiosity when he sees something he hasn't seen before. - he adores little gifts,,, like these small gestures would Never Be Noticed by anyone, except him, and he just thinks it's so fuckin sweet. - secretly a prankster. you Would Not Expect It from him, but that's what makes it so perfect. he's the PATIENT type of prankster, too; the one who moves the flower vase a cenimeter to the left every day over the course of a month type of patient.

HERE'S THE LIST, LOVE THIS MAN SO FUCKIN MUCH YALL plEASE,,, he's my pretty mans and i just foam at the mouth over him i s w e a r.

Up next is Neuvi, bc i love him, and then i'll be delving into the Very Specific Niche Ship i obsess over which is them as a poly.

[landofzero-archive]

Absolute - The Pure Land 8

(Location: Absolute Stage)

(Nearly an hour later. Inside the venue of Absolute.)

Jun: Ooh—

Hey, there’s some kinda flashy stage being built~? There wasn’t anything like that here yesterday though?

Hiyori: Because it’s almost the time for Absolute to begin. See, there’s already a huge audience, as many as the eyes can see.

NEGI: “Thanks to that, the highway was congested, it was a hard time getting to this place…… Ugh, my best set of clothes is drenched in sweat.”

Ibara: Yes. It’s just as expected.

However this is difficult, this crowding makes searching for someone—

Nagisa: —Are you looking for someone?

Ibara: —

Your Excellency.

Hiyori: Nagisa-kun!? Eeeeh, we found you even without needing to look for you!

Why are you here? Where have you been and what have you been doing up till now? I’ve been so worried—

………

Jun: Ohiisan? What’s going on with you~ What’s up with that face, you’re looking like you’ve seen an alien?

Hiyori: ……… Who?

Jun: Huh? Who, you said– do you have amnesia or something? No matter which way you look at him, it’s Nagi-senpai……?

No, huh? Now that you’ve mentioned it, something feels weird somewhere……?

Ibara: Hmm hmm. I see, so this means he has turned into a different person after undergoing the terrifying experience that is kidnapping. Poor soul.

Did you think that’s what I’d say? Who are you? What you’re doing right now is an infringement of the right to using someone’s likeness; it’s a crime.

Nagisa?: ………

NEGI: “Could it be Shaka-san?

You’re Shaka-san, aren’t you? You can’t fool my eyes, who do you think did the procedure on you?”

Nagisa?: Ahahahahahaha.(1)

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.(1)

NEGI: “……!?”

Shaka: That’s amazing. You might have just tricked me into revealing the truth, but I didn’t think you would find me out this quickly.

I should not have just practiced on-stage performances, but I should have practiced genuine acting on top of that.

No, but still, did you all realize my true identity?

I envy you, brother. I see I see, because you’re holding in your arms something so precious and brilliant, it’s only natural that money and reputation could not bring out your interest.

Ibara: Where’d you take His Excellency to?

What “I”(2) will do to you depends on your answer—

Shaka: Rest assured. Right now, he’s in the safest place in the world.

However, nobody would think of the him in there as Ran Nagisa.

NEGI: “……Did you steal his existence?

And then you took over? Was that your purpose, Shaka-san?”

Shaka: Indeed, my friend. (3) I have captured and confined Ran Nagisa and remodeled myself using Priest’s technique.

And then we exchanged forms with one another, and in this way replaced each other.

I have obtained that child’s life.

As a reward for that, I bestowed my life upon that child.

Isn’t it a good deal? With this, he can become the world’s number one idol without any hardships—

Ibara: Even if you didn’t bestow it upon him.

His Excellency is, we are, planning to reach “there” with our own strength sooner or later.

Shaka: Ahaha. You said the same thing he said. You have such a close relationship. It’s heartwarming.

You guys are pretty cute. I enjoy your cherubic mannerism and reactions. 

Jun: GODDAMN! Ibara, it’s okay to rough up this guy, yeah~? Just this once, me and Ohii-san will pretend we didn’t see anything!

Hiyori: —It’s no good.

Jun: Huh? Wh-why is that, Ohii-san?

Shaka: That child over there is prudent.

Let’s imagine it. Indeed, I am a criminal. For example, yes, let’s say I’ve cheated and robbed a bank out of a large amount of money

At this rate, I might get arrested by the police. So that I could escape safely, I should take hostages.

Jun: Gotcha, so in this situation, Nagi-senpai is the one being held hostage……!?

Hiyori: Yes. Until we can safeguard Nagisa-kun without incident, there is no way we can erase this guy who is the only one who knows where that child is.

So Ibara, I know you’re probably irritated, but please refrain from going on a rampage.

Ibara: Yes, I would not have done so even if you didn’t tell me that, Your Highness.

TL Notes:

1. Please don’t worry. Mod counted the ‘Ha’s for this.

2. Ibara’s using his very rare personal pronoun 俺 (Ore), which is a rude, typically masculine personal pronoun. He usually uses 自分 (Jibun) which is an impersonal, somewhat militaristic way of referring to oneself.

3. Just so you know he said そうとも,友よ (Soutomo, tomoyo).

Previous | Directory | Next

[myrwild]

Had she gotten in the wrong apartment? No, she had the key so it couldn't be. Had she entered a parallel dimension in which her big brother mysteriously turned into a moderately - from what little she had been able to soak in - attractive stranger with silvery hair and a couple inches less to his height? Possible, but not likely. Was that her brother's way of playing a prank on her. Probable. Very probable. Too probable in fact.

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek with a groan of frustration. She wouldn't put it past Daniel to think that this was a viable way to try and play matchmaker for her. If she had to bet on it, she'd put all of her meagre savings on the fact that Alex, her other brother, was very much involved as well. He probably was the one to come up with the idea, the nosy bitch that he was. They both had been worried about her for a while now, trying relentlessly to talk up their friends and colleagues to her, offering blind dates, setting Tinder accounts for her just to prove to her that what had happened years prior was just a stroke of bad luck that she should let go of. Olivia was grateful that they cared - gods knew too little people did and she didn't really let people get close enough for it either - but this amount of meddling was bordering on obsessive. And she was more than fine by herself, it was just easier that way. Getting attached to people never ended in anything but heartbreak. Coffee. That's what she needed. That was her one true love. Coffee. She was in the kitchen filling the biggest mug she had found with the dark heavenly liquid when she heard the bathroom door open again and footsteps wander around towards her temporary haven. Her shoulders tensed slightly. She hoped and prayed that Daniel hadn't given that guy a rundown on who she was and how to 'seduce the panties off of her'. He had done that before. It did not end well, for him or the poor sod that had tried his luck. When finally she heard him speak, she slurped a long gulp of coffee to smooth her nerves before turning around to face him. It would be a bad look to emotionally destroy yet another one of her brother's acquaintances in the first five minutes... again. ❝ I can see that. ❞ she pointed out, looking him up and down like she had done prior in the bathroom, minus the gaze-averting to preserve his modesty. Male nudity didn't faze her in the slightest. Growing up with a bunch of boys and men didn't really leave space for coyness, but she didn't make it a habit to ogle at strangers' dangly bits left and right, no matter how attractive them - or their bits - might be. The man - Zach, he said? - looked nothing like the type of men Daniel usually surrounded himself with. ❝ Olivia. ❞ The offer of her name was somewhat reluctant. She wasn't always the most polite, but the man hadn't done anything wrong, yet. Well apart from appearing naked in front of her, but really it wasn't his fault, though she wasn't going to thank him for the show either. ❝ Dan knew I was coming, why would he... ❞ she started with a raised eyebrow, one arm crossed on her chest while the coffee mug was raised close to her lips, begging to be emptied. Her words were cut short by a ball of pure white fur zooming inside the kitchen and gracefully jumping on the island with a meow of complete disdain, its beady green eyes staring at her. ❝ Oh. ❞ Olivia breathed. It made sense now. Princess. It was all about Princess. Not a blind date, a cat-sitter. Daniel had heard she'd be one day late. ONE. And that was just too long a time to leave his precious baby all by her lonesome. Drama queen. ❝ Figures... ❞ the sigh escaped her lips with a roll of her eyes. She reached for the cat only for her hand to be swatted away by a paw, tiny needle-like claws pricking her skin. A small bead of blood bubbled to the surface, passing the shield of her skin. ❝ Hello to you too, Satan. ❞ Olivia said, trying her hardest not to hiss at the cat in front of guests, bringing her finger to her lips and then past them, soothing the sting of the scratch with her tongue. ❝ Where did he find you anyway? You're not his... usual type. ❞ she finally added after taking her finger out of her mouth with a 'pop', raising an eyebrow at the so-called Zach anew.

Zach didn't like staying anywhere where he couldn't sleep in his own bed (the only exception were his hikes and, in this case, his own sleeping bag). Even moving to a new place a few floors down required time, a sacrifice to the Gods, and a magic spell. His brother announced it was time he moved to his own place and focused on his career and their parents decided it would be better for theirs too if they moved to California, closer to the filmmaking mecca. Leaving the whole loft to Zach was thoughtful, but much as he appreciated having all the space to himself, he didn't need that much. Luckily, a neighbor from a studio on one of the lower floors was moving out. He spent a few months decorating his new place, making it his new home, and even though it felt like home, he still needed time to get used to it.

It was surprising that he agreed to look after someone's house, but he had a good reason for that. Zach still had to finish a demo of his game, something he had been working on for months to impress a studio he wanted to get a job at so badly. It should be easier to focus on work without any distractions, where his few friends wouldn't find him. His bed or not, Zach told himself it was a good idea and he shouldn't regret it.

Shouldn't. That didn't age well. Zach jumped at the sound of an unfamiliar voice; there was a chance she wasn't a murderer; just someone who had every right to be there, someone who had a key. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind. Hadn't Daniel mentioned a sister once? Zach wasn't so sure anymore, he didn't know him that well. Puzzled, staring at the woman in silence, he watched her leave the bathroom and discovered that the door could actually be closed; an option he had forgotten about when he was so sure no one would storm into the house without a warning.

Having put on some clothes with a few more "fuck's" and "damn it's" here and there, Zach finally followed her into the living room. "Fully dressed," he announced, slightly amused now. The power of being not naked anymore, probably. "And... no, I'm not Daniel," he added with a sheepish smile. "Just looking after his house until he comes back. I'm Zach."

[kelin-is-writing]

how would dabi react if his s/o got sick? like just a cold or a fever so nothing major but i image our poor baby would freak out 😢

- 🥛

dabi x fem!reader

he wouldn’t let it show openly, if not for the frown that makes his forehead crease and the worried gaze that only you can detect, but inside dabi is worried sick because the fever doesn’t seem to want get down despite you taking your medicines, staying warm and resting. he didn’t knew anymore what to do honestly, the sight of you in pain or unwell was genuinely hard to bear for dabi.

as he sat at your bed’s edge he took the thermometer and saw that the temperature was still at 39.7 degrees he looked at you pale; after tucking you in dabi glanced at the clock on the wall seeing that it still took some hours before you could take your medicine, so he grabbed the glass of water on your bedside table handing it to you saying that it’s better to keep yourself hydrates.

when he sees that you can’t even stand properly, dabi moves right beside you and puts an arm around your shoulder helping you slowly to raise your upper body, then he brings the glass to your lips and watches carefully as you drink it making a relieved expression afterwards as the cool beverage soothes your burning throat “you’re sweating, i think it’s better if you dry up and change your clothes.”, he advises moving the blanket and standing up so you can get off bed more easily. he holds out an hand for you to take so to help you stand without falling and starts undoing the buttons of your pajamas’ blouse, you start burning up for another reason and grab his wrists looking up at him flustered while telling the boy you can do it alone, he refuses saying that you’re to weak to even stand properly without having your legs shake like the ones of a newborn deer. so in the end not only dabi has changed you, but he also dried your body with a cool towel and finally put you to bed, demanding gently for you to take off the cold patch attached to your forehead to replace it with a new one.

after he feeds you some porridge and gave you your medicines, he changes into some spare clothes left here after his many visits and then tells you to scoot over so he can get in bed with you resting an arm onto the cushion for your to rest your head on, while his other one is around your waist to hold you closer. his eyes fixes into yours intensely and with worry shining into their depth “if there’s anything wrong or you feel any discomfort, tell me right away okay?”, you nod while looking at him mesmerized by that side of your boyfriend before snuggling against his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head and fall asleep like that.

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ᴏʙʟɪᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴛ. ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ || 2012! ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

“Look, here’s the thing. I never asked to fall in love with you. Before I knew it, it had already happened.” A breathy chuckle slips past your lips, wiping away the stinging tears from the corner of your eyes. 

You’re greeted with silence, and you hold on for a while longer before pulling the phone away from your ear with confusion in your eyes. “Hello?” You call out one more time, but Donnie doesn’t respond. 

You frown slightly, trying not to let it get to you more than the entire day already had. You hang up, shoving your phone back into your pocket with a heavy sigh.

Donnie’s stunned into pure silence by your confession, about to speak when you hang up. The monotonous dial tone is all he can hear. “Hello? Y/n? You there?”

He stares at the screen of his T-Phone with a small frown, his heart heavy at the precious secret you had so easily divulged to him with a simple question. His shoulders sag with a single sigh, sitting in his chair and holding his head in his hands. 

He had some thinking to do.

— — — — — — — — —

“Thanks, Leo, but I’m fine. Yeah, I’ll visit you guys soon. Pizza? Sure, I’ll get some along the way. Do you want Hawaiia-” You pause, shaking your head with a brief chuckle. “Sorry, do you want the usual pepperoni?”

You can hear the cries of happiness from Mikey in the background; the prospect of more pizza is always a reason for his euphoria. You would never understand how they never got tired of eating the same food over and over. But then again, not many would understand you being friends with four teenage mutant ninja turtles, either.

Well, it’s more like three now. 

You don’t know what you and Donnie are anymore. It’s been a couple weeks since you last spoke to him, your last form of contact with him having been that rather devastating phone call. 

“And, y/n,” You hear the hesitation in Leo’s voice, but also the tinge of worry and care. “I don’t really know what happened with you and Donnie, but…Could you spare just a moment to see him tomorrow? Please?”

You sigh. Your brows furrow, mulling over your options. 

“Pleaseeeee?” 

Damn it. You’re vulnerable to his pleas; the soft spot you have for the leader of the bunch now is like a sore thumb that keeps getting slammed on.

“Fine.” You cave so easily, knowing that if he ever begged you again, you’d give in all the same. Damn those brothers and their manipulative tactics.

You hang up, the empty silence of your room greeting you in place of Leo’s voice. You lay on your side, staring at the slightly brownish spot on your wall where you had accidentally smeared paint when having a painting session with Donnie. 

The usual logical turtle was cute when he tried artistic things, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he tried to trace an outline of your face. He had to get the angles right, the shading perfect, and even the shapes. It was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

You wince when your heart squeezes with a hollow pang in your chest, lips quirked into a sad smile at the memory as you doze off to sleep.

— — — — — — — — —

“I smell pizza.” Mikey suddenly sits up from his lazy position on the couch with wide eyes, his keen sense of smell only ever activated in such moments.

“What? Oh, that must be y/n.” Leo greets you with a warm smile as you walk in with a piping hot box from Papa Louie’s. 

“Special delivery,” You grin, embracing Mikey in a gentle hug. He reciprocates it with genuine affection but sneakily grabs the cardboard box out of your hands with a pleased smile. “I’ll just lighten your load real quick, dudette.”

You watch Mikey leave to the kitchen with a chuckle and shake of your head, having missed your bundle of sunshine the past few days. Leo walks up to you, and you give him a simple nod.

“How’ve you been?” He asks. The nature of his question is innocent, yet you find your mood instantly shifts to a more sombre one. You shrug, subconsciously averting your gaze to look around the living room.

“Been better, I suppose.” You answer, your lips curving into a smile when you see Raph leaving the dojo. “Heyya Red.” You greet his tired form, the tough teddy bear straightening his posture at the greeting. 

“Pipsqueak,” He acknowledges, coming over to give you an affectionate noogie. You giggle, shoving him away with a laugh of protest. “Don’t make us worried like that again.” He warns you, though his eyes are gentle.

You smile sheepishly, nodding in response. “I smell pizza.” He states abruptly, his stomach letting out a rather noisy grumble. “Mikey better not have gotten the left slice.” He mutters, rushing off to the kitchen.

You turn back to face Leo, who’s rolling his eyes with a nonchalant expression, though his gaze turns soft when he looks back at you. “We’ve all been worried.” He mentions quietly. 

You’re instantly wrecked with guilt, as if a large truck had just rammed into you with full force. 

It’s not a pleasant feeling.

“You’re right,” You sigh, running your fingers through your hair and smoothing out the tangles. “I’m sorry.”

His arms are crossed, but his tense shoulders relax once he hears your sincere apology. “Have you been eating regularly?” He questions. 

You lift your shoulders in a shrug. “Meh.”

Leo frowns at this information, dragging you into the kitchen where Raph and Mikey are, for once, peacefully enjoying their slices of pizza. However, once Mikey reaches over to the left side with fingers of anticipation, Raph smacks it away with a stern frown. 

“Ow! I don’t get what’s with you and the left side of the pizza….” Mikey sulks, crossing his arms with a huff. 

“Left side’s better,” Raph states with a knowing smile, eyeing you as you walk in behind Leo. “Haven’t eaten?” He guesses, smirking when you duck your head with an embarrassed flush that creeps up your neck.

“Should’ve gotten an extra large.” You murmur, only half the pizza left in random slices. You pick up a piece, humming happily when you bite down on the gooey, stringy cheese. The tangy tomato sauce hits all the right spots on your tastebuds, and the flaky yet chewy dough is absolute heaven to your stomach. 

The only thing it’s missing is pineapples.

Your smile falters yet again at the unintentional reminder of Donnie, glancing around. Where was he, anyway? He’d never let Mikey get the last piece. 

However, the youngest is already scarfing it down, Leo luckily grabbing a slice just in time and setting one aside for Splinter. You’re hesitant to voice out your question, but Mikey already answers it before you even ask.

“Man, Dee’s still stuck in his lab, huh?”

“How long has he been in there?” You question softly, having stood up to wash your hands at the sink.

“...Ever since you left the lair that day.” 

Raph’s response makes you still, the running water cascading over your cold hands and splashing into the drain. Your eyes widen for a brief moment, but you take a breath to compose yourself. You turn, shutting off the tap and drying your hands with a tea towel.

“Alright,” You huff, already recalling Leo’s plea from the night before, “I’ll go check on him.”

You head to the lab, your palm laid flat against the cold metal door. You take a shaky breath, steeling your nerve and walk in with a push of the door. It swings open slightly, revealing Donnie at his desk with his welding mask on.

“I said I’m not hungry.” He calls out with an emotionless voice, aiming his blowtorch at the next few bits sprayed out on the table. You take a step forward, then another.

“I can tell.”

You can see his entire body stiffen, instantly shutting off the blowtorch and taking off his welding mask with wide eyes. 

“Y/n?”

“In the flesh,” You joke, trying to keep the mood light. His face is slimmer, you note. He’s lost weight since the last time you saw him. His skin is a paler shade of green, fingers trembling as he sets down the mask.

How long has it been since his last meal?

You don’t know, but seeing him like this broke your heart all over again.

“H-hey,” He’s fidgeting with the wrench on his desk, his voice a tad bit more nervous than usual. Your eyes soften, regret starting to take the form of a painful lump in your throat you find impossible to swallow down. 

You should’ve never confessed.

You could’ve lived the rest of your days with him as your best friend, even if he was happy with someone else.

You had to put an end to it. You needed him back. Not this Donnie, your Donnie.

“Hey, Don?” He looks up at the familiar nickname you used to call him so endearingly with.  You take another breath, finding the strength in yourself to utter the words you’ve been planning to say once you see him again.

“About the confession…Don’t worry about it. I realized it was just an infatuation I had. I know I’m asking a lot from you, but do you think…maybe we could become friends again?” You ask hesitantly, leaning against his desk.

You hold out your hand, waiting patiently for his response and hoping, just hoping, that he’d say yes.

Your shoulders relax from the hidden tension that’s coiled in every muscle in your body, and an exhale filled with nothing short of relief huffs past your lips. You look up with a warm smile, though your eyes are slightly timid.

And there he was. Your Donnie, the same old twinkle back in his eyes. A glimmer of hope fills his chest, looking down at his hand in yours. 

“Friends?”

“Friends.” You confirm with a chuckle. “If it helps, I have a date this Friday I was hoping you could help prepare me for.”

And just like that, that same hope is instantly snuffed out.

— — — — — — — — —

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[yichimi]

hi! could you do a reactions hc for the brothers (+ simeon) when they overstimulate mc for the first time in bed? how they react to their whimpers and begs etc etc

✨Thank you for your request and patience✨

A/n: I'm sorry that this took very long but the last months weren't the easiest for me and the people around me. I hope you guys understand that✨♥️🦙

The brothers and Simeon overstimulate their S/O for the first time

LUCIFER:

He was planning on it longer than you can imagine

And of course he respects your decision to wait, wait as long as you need he has the patience-

But when it then came to the real situation he always imagined...he didn't knew your begging and whines would be so adorable and innocent

It drove him crazy and he could only thrust into you more and more. With every thrust he gave your tight walls the more whiny you got

Yep...you gonna be the death of this man if it won't be his brothers one day-

Lucifer can control himself good, and you can consider yourself lucky that he can-or else your mind would already be mush and you stutter nonsense

The best way to overstimulate you is to get you close to the end, and take it away from you. He does that...well-as often as his sadistic ass feels like-

MAMMON:

he wasn't planning on it when it happened the first time-and now he can't stop-

So-it all happened when both of you were just RIDICULOUSLY horny and mammon couldn't stop at all, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you

And he got addicted to those sweet ass sounds you do. You get so cute and sensitive then-why didn't he do this sooner?!

And dont care about being to loud, he gladly gives you his fingers to suck on to muffle these sounds~

But mammon also cares for you, so he gives you breaks in between. And afterwards always has water ready for you. Main priority, take care of his sweet baby✨♥️

But also fuck the daylight out of you when you ask for it-

LEVIATHAN:

He-lost control and now he can't stop-;_;

Shit happens-

At first your sounds were a bit embarrassing for him. He felt shy hearing you so noisy, ONLY FOR HIM YK

still in disbelief that hes the one making you feel so much pleasure, but he wanted more, and so he kept going...and didn't stop✌🏻

You just sound like the girls in hentai's🥺

But you're still his absolute favorite girl so no need to worry

Btw, when he overstimulates you, he also overstimulates himself. You both are a whiny, loud and cute mess-

Not his brothers who hear everything-

SATAN:

once read it in a book-yk broing day, didn't know what to read, remembers the book Mammon once gave him, he gave it a shot, it's an erotica, couldn't stop reading, and here we are-

You don't know if you should thank mammon or the book for this awesome experience-

Satan put his heart and soul into your pleasure. He does this every time but now-he just is a dream and a pro

He couldn't stop after hearing your sounds. So adorable, so cute. You just looks so precious underneath him losing your mind in pleasure and lust

He always keeps going till you say it's enough. He doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable one bit yk. You're his little kitten you're damn important~

ASMODEUS:

look at him, look into his eyes, you can't tell me he didn't went through this hundred times receiving and giving it-

So don't worry, you're in safe hands with him

Of course he knows good spots to make people cry out in lust. But exploring everything on and in you is exciting-and he tests around what makes you feel pure ecstasy

Ohhhhh and your sounds-ahhhh so cute and adorable

Expect lots of praise for everything you do. You do awesome no matter what, and its your first time he wants you to feel as comfortable as possible

Looooots of kisses-

And lots of shaking from your side, every orgasm he draw out of you is exhausting but also so awesome

Hes just the pro-its Asmo-

BEELZEBUB:

most of his oversimplification is from eating you out

Youre just his favorite flavor from all and he can't stop by just one lick from you

He loves to hear those sounds you make, when you cry and wiggle yourself closer to his face, you feel overwhelmed, but also so good you can't take it

Loves when you sit on his face, he can hold you in place and you just love this too

And not only that~he and his loooovely fingers are on work too on you and it's not only your taste that can't make him stop

Its how you feel too. So soft and wet around him-

All in all your first experience with overstimulation was awesome. He is caring as always and even more sweet

BELPHEGOR:

Yk-he's not that lazy when he's jealous-

Some random demon had the AUDACITY to flirt with you

It all ended with you and belphie needing to go home because he looked like he's killing someone in any second

And what happened at home? He threw you on the bed and starts to claim you-you are his after all how dare someone else try a move on you

And he only watches as you bounce for your orgasm on top of him over and over again

He holds your hips tight and gives you support while you go crazy on him

Honestly, it's his favorite sight. Seeing you like this

And dont try to keep your sounds in, he loves your voice over everything-

SIMEON:

Our angel-hes now not so innocent anymore after he met you-

But your love is still as wholesome as from the start on. He's the sweetest and takes the best care of you, even in your needs~

You asked for it, and he granted you the wish the best he could

He went slow and careful first, to afraid to hurt you or make you uncomfortable

He lost it when he heard your moans for him. He just fucking lost it all and went crazy on you-let him-he does a perfect job at making you cry out in pleasure and makes you climax fast

Afterwards he of course takes care of you and apologizes when he saw how fucked out you were-

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