#very late but I was busy all week so oops

[mrkida-art]

Day 2 : Light Three dwarves taking a break from work to watch the sunrise

The prompt list:

[guniniz]

⸻ falling asleep on facetime with zb1

# genre … fluffy scenario’s of how i think zb1 members would react to you falling asleep while on facetime, some are romantic relationships and some are just friendships !

# note … i havent written anything in a while so im sorry if its messy lol. also didn’t proofread it oops. was gonna do all the members in one part but i got tired so hanbin, jiwoong and hao it is !!

── 彡 [한빈] HANBIN

you and your best friend hanbin had been working together on a mix & max performance for studio choom.

you guys had spend the entire week working on the choreo trying to perfect every little detail

it was a very long day and it was starting to get late so the both of you decided to call it a day and grab a quick bite to eat before heading home.

conveniently hanbin picked out a spot that was almost directly in front of your house so you didnt have to walk home for that long. (though he insisted it was just cause he really enjoys the food there).

while waiting for you order you were lightly dozing off to which hanbin suggested to just get take out so you could head home but you insisted you “weren’t that tired”.

after finish your meal he dropped you off at home and was about to leave when you told him to call you on facetime so his walk home would be less lonely and to “protect him”.

he laughed at the silly remark but humored you and called you as soon as you closed the door.

as he was walking home you were getting ready for bed and talking about some random stuff. he was another 20 minutes away from his apartment when you got into bed.

hanbin told you you were going to fall asleep and to just hang up but you persisted you would stay on the phone until he got back home.

a few minutes passed and hanbin wanted to ask you something about the choreo but when he looked the screen he could see you had fallen asleep.

as he thought about you so heavily insisting you weren’t gonna fall asleep he laughed a bit to himself. he knew this would happen, he is your best friend after all.

he continued his walk without hanging up enjoying your “company” until he got home. as he got in to his apartment he whispered good night to you and finally hung up.

he couldnt help but to text you “what happened to protecting me?” after though.

── 彡 [지웅] JIWOONG

jiwoong and you became friends after both of you getting cast in a webdrama a few years back at the beginning of both of your careers.

recently the director of said webdrama reached out to you again to see if you were interested in staring in his new higher production drama.

to your surprise the director had asked jiwoong the exact same question and he also accepted the request.

as soon as you found out jiwoong had accepted too you texted him to set up a time to do some script reading over facetime

but due to both of you having busy schedules the only time left to do it was towards midnight.

jiwoong called as soon as you got back home from you busy day and you guys exchanged some small talk before you started reading the script.

as you were reading you could feel your eyes slowly closing no matter how hard you tried to concentrate, in the end you lost the battle against yourself and had fallen asleep.

a few more minutes go by and jiwoong finished reading his script, as he is about to ask you if you finished reading yet he notices your eyes are closed.

not knowing for sure he half whispers your name to see if you’d react. he couldn’t help but laugh a little when all he got in response was a small snore.

he slowly started to put away the script and clean his desk trying to be as quiet as possible as to not wake you up (he didnt think about the fact that he could’ve just muted his mic)

and even though he confirmed you were asleep and he could hang up he decided to stay on the call a bit longer looking at you peacefully sleeping.

as he was looking at you he started to think that maybe acting out romantic feelings towards you won’t be so hard.

── 彡 [장하오] ZHANGHAO

as you and hao were currently doing long distance you guys decided to watch a movie together online.

after some light bickering hao ended up getting to pick the movie you were gonna watch.

you took your phone with you to the kitchen to get some dinner ready while he did the same, you both made the same meal to feel a little more connected.

as you were getting settled on the couch hao was setting up the movie you guys were gonna watch on some site.

you guys were enjoying the first bit of the movie while eating your dinner. the movie was alright and didnt really pique your interest but it was your bf’s favorite movie and he was enjoying himself which honestly mattered more to you.

you finished your dinner and put your plate away to get even cozier on your couch, you snuggled into you blanket as you kept watching the movie. hao stealing a quick glance at you and smiling at how comfy and cute you looked.

you were pretty full from dinner and felt very comfortable in between your blankets on the couch and you could feel yourself slowly getting tired, trying your best to keep your eyes open.

you almost dozed off when suddenly you heard hao calling out to you.

“y/n dont fall asleep we’re almost at the best part of the movie!” he said as you quickly fluttered your eyes open. you were going to protest that you didn’t fall asleep but you knew there was no point.

you continued watching the movie and tried very hard to concentrate so you wouldn’t miss your boyfriend’s favorite part.

as it passed hao kept checking for your reaction to see how u were enjoying the movie so you gave him a smile and he went back to enjoying the rest of the movie.

as the ending credits started to roll hao asked you what you thought of the movie but when he looked at the direction of where he propped up his phone all he could see was you wrapped up in your blankets and laying down.

he grabbed his phone up and just looked at you smiling to himself. he had really missed seeing you like this. he always thought u were the cutest when you were sleepy.

before he hung up the call he took some screenshots to tease you with later, mentally adding this moment to the tally of how many times you’ve fallen asleep during a movie (and definitely not just cause he missed you so much and thought u looked adorable)

— pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3

[kayentokk]

Hey :) How are you doing?

Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa in which he is out patroling and he finds his teen daughter doing something ilegal with her friends or something like that.

Please and thankss :)

A/N; I’m okay thanks for asking! Love this idea, I’ve gotten many requests somewhat related to this lately actually! I’ll be posting those throughout the week. Also sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this! 🥲 I truly believe Aizawa is a girl dad and a softie parent. 

Pairing; Platonic!Father Aizawa x Fem!Daughter Reader

Contains; a little ooc Aizawa, fluff, soft, drug mentions, reader is about 16-17 like mha characters, quirk-less reader, death mentions, bad friends, comfort

wc; 1,763

You weren’t supposed to get caught. In fact, you didn’t even think you would. It wasn’t a big deal anyways, you only did it because you thought it’d be a way to relax with your friends. Plus, if you guys did get caught your backup plan was your father. It wasn’t like he was going to detain you…right?

Wrong.

You were very wrong to believe that your father wouldn’t take you into custody over a little weed with your friends. You just wanted to have fun! Besides, you didn’t want to be the ‘perfect heroes daughter’ who’s a buzzkill. Why couldn’t he understand that? 

There was just so much pressure that came with being the child to a hero. Your friends already joked about how you were too ‘good’ to do anything remotely illegal. Which is part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place. 

Of course he just happened to be patrolling around the alley you and your friends decided to get a little high in. That was just your luck, he didn’t seem mad though. So you thought he’d just tell you guys not to do it anymore, and move on. Nope. Leave it to Aizawa to want to teach you a ‘lesson’ all of a sudden. He was normally just a “don’t do it again,” kind of parent. Mostly because you had never done anything of this caliber before.

“Did you really have to bring me in?”

Silence.

“I mean come on, none of the other heroes care. They’re too busy thinking about protecting the city, shouldn’t you be too? Nobody cares about a couple of kids getting a little buzzed, besides everyone does it nowadays-“

“That doesn’t make it okay y/n.”

You’ve rarely seen him like this, so tense. He didn’t look angry, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got that he was. It was almost….scary. 

So you resigned to a simple, “Okay, I’m sorry.” Were you really sorry though? Not that much, you still didn’t see the big deal. 

He let out a low grunt, “This is serious y/n, I know you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” well he said it first, “but you could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Hurt? From getting a little high?”

“Criminals lace that stuff all the time, whether it’s with poison, more drugs, or whatever else they decide-“

“Yeah sure, but we got it from a trusted source-“

“And who’s that?” He said crossing his arms. 

Oops.

You decided it’d be best not to respond right now. Especially since the source wasn’t technically trusted, just another kid who got it from someone else. Who probably got it from someone else too.

Sensing your apprehension he decide to drop it, “we’ll revisit that later,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll drop you off at home, you’re grounded.” 

You internally groaned at that, grounded? That’s a new one, you were starting to really regret your decision. You should have just told your friends no, even if it meant being the ‘buzzkill.’ Then you remembered, your friends-

“What about my friends?”

“We’re working on calling their parents to come pick them up soon.”

“No!-“ you said sharply, “I-I mean, can’t you just let them off? Or something?”

“You know that’s not how this works, they are already getting off with a minor offense. The worst they’re going to get is their parents’ scolding.”

“Dad! You don’t understand-“

“I understand perfectly fine, a bunch of young kids wanted to ‘have fun’ and thought this was the best way to do it.”

Okay maybe he did understand, but not your side. He didn’t get that now you’d officially be the outcast, the top 10 ranked hero’s daughter who gets everyone in trouble. Does he get how embarrassing that is? 

“Come on, let’s get going.”

You stood from the chair leaving the comfort of being shielded, by the small desk separator, from your friends’ piercing gazes. They thought your dad would let you all off too considering the chaos the city’s currently in. 

You nervously waved and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to them before rushing out the door trying to follow closely behind Aizawa. 

You guys didn’t speak the whole way home, you opted for silence mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal and he just didn’t know what to say. You had never done anything like that before, or had he just never caught you? When did that start?

He remembered when you were little and you’d give your vegetables to stray animals so you didn’t have to eat them, or when you tried to sneak out at night and he caught you. But those were all pretty minor things, and he was only always concerned with your safety.

You’d never done anything this bad, and in terms of the worst thing you could do of course this wasn’t horrible but he still didn’t get why. It couldn’t have just been for fun.

He entered the house after unlocking the door and opening it for you. Before you could make it to your room, where you’d probably go to sulk, he decided he’d ask.

“Why did you want to do that y/n?”

You stopped and turned around to face him. He was standing in front of the door, and now that you actually took in his appearance he looked tired. His dark circles more prominent, eyes a light pink most likely from his quirk, and his black pants had small patches of dust that had been hastily patted off on them. 

You replied after a moment, briefly forgetting his question, “For fu-“

“And don’t just say for fun, because I know you and there are plenty of other things you would do for fun.”

You huffed resigning to just come out with it, “it was a bet.”

“A bet?”

“My friends bet me that I wouldn’t get high with them since I’m a hero’s daughter.”

“And you decided to take them up on that?”

“Yes, I know it was stupid okay?”

“I know you know, you’re smarter than that. So why’d you say yes?”

Why’d he have to be so persistent? “Maybe because I thought I’d finally get some friends.”

“What do you mean y/n? You do have friends.”

“No, I don’t. Momo, Tsu, and Uraraka only hang out with me out of pity, since you’re their teacher, if they even have time-“

“Pity? Y/n no they don’t, there’s nothing pitiful about you at all-“

You scoffed, “don’t lie. I get you’re my dad and all but be honest with yourself, truly honest.”

“I am being honest. I’d never lie-“

Guess you’d just have to spell it out for him then. “The only daughter you had killed your wife, was born quirk-less, and there’s nothing special about her!” You were shocked at the admission of your own feelings but kept going, “I don’t have a talent, I’m not exceptionally smart, I’m not breathtakingly pretty, and I can’t even make friends!” You listed raising a finger for each reason, “Now tell me what about that is not pitiful?”

After that question there was silence, and Aizawa was just looking at you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until the first tear slid down your nose crease and hit the corner of your lip. Before touching could even wipe your tear or register the sound of footsteps approaching you, you were being hugged. Fully covered by his arms, your head grazing the bottom of his chin where stubble had began to grow, face buried partially into his scarf. 

You heard high pitched wailing, which you hadn’t even registered was you until his hand began to rub up and down your back with quiet ‘shh’s to try calming you.  

“Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, none of it okay?” He began whispering in your ear.

“Your mom and I both knew the challenges she’d have if she gave birth to you. We were well aware, and she wanted to have you. She didn’t care if she’d die in the process, you are our child.”

He continued comforting you, and when you eventually calmed down he let go and gently pulled your face out of his chest so you could look him in his tired, red eyes. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough okay? It’s my fault I’m sorry. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’re perfect. I mean that, I’d never lie. You don’t need a quirk, to be super smart, or have a special talent. You’re perfect to me, okay? And that’s all that matters. You’re important to me,” he said firmly. 

“Okay?”

You sniffled, reaching a hand to wipe your nose, “okay.”

“Hey,” he said turning your face back to his, “I really mean it, I’d be no where without you. And how could you say you’re not beautiful? I know I’m not the best looking hero, but haven’t you seen the pictures of your mom? You take after her, gorgeous. Nothing I’d ever change about you, I don’t regret anything.”

“Okay,” you said slightly unused to him saying these things, “I’ve never heard you say something so corny dad,” you said chuckling trying to lighten the mood. 

At that, he gave a small grin which faded when he remembered your earlier point, “And Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu do like being your friend. Not just because I’m their teacher, trust me I’m more of a supervisor if anything. I let them figure most stuff out on their own. They wanted to meet and hang out with you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, you make friends just fine.” 

“I know, I know, it was just heat of the moment stuff dad.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugged you once more, and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I still have about another hour of night patrol, but I’ll stay here if you want me to?”

“No dad, it’s fine go.”

He looked at you once more as if saying, ‘are you sure?’ 

“Yes I’m sure I’m fine, it’s only an hour anyways.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything, I’ll be back soon,” he said headed towards the door.

“Okay,” you said starting to walk to your room. 

But just before he shut the door you dashed for it and started, “Hey! does this mean-“

“No you’re still grounded,” he said. 

And with that the door shut.

@/cafekitsune for the divider!

[notjustjavierpena]

Oops, I accidentally sent the request before actually typing it, lol

Here we go again:

The family is away for summer vacation and reader bumps into an old high school boyfriend of hers at the beach while Javi is playing with the kids (making an adorable mess with sand castles), and he sees it at some distance and get super jealous about it, but only get to talk to her about it after dinner when the kids are asleep in their hotel room. Idk, something about that with obviously make up sex for reader to show him how much she’s all his and etc

Random thoughts, I know, but I’m sure you’ll be able to work magic with this

Sand

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hi hi hi, and so sorry for the wait. I hope this fulfils your heart’s desires, my friend. Thank you for following my work ❤️

Summary: You bump into your high school sweetheart on holiday and Javier is not a fan.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, jealousy, javi is whipped for reader, dirty talk, piv sex, rough sex, bit of roleplay, creampie, use of papi, possessiveness, aren’t they just the cutest?

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51262198

Sand

Children’s laughter travels through the air to meet your ears along with the sound of a soft summer breeze, making you put down the book that you’ve been holding in your hands. It’s impossibly sunny hence why you’ve decided to hold up the book, shielding its pages from the rays, and the skin of your back glistens with sweat. There are seagulls in the air, busy noises from families around you, and the therapeutic push and pull of the waves.

Beside you, you have a glass of strawberry lemonade and in front of you, you have a view of your husband enthusiastically digging moats around the various sandcastles that have been scattered across your chosen spot on the beach. You feel refreshed and relaxed; just how you’re supposed to feel on your vacation during the hottest days of summer. 

It had been Javier’s idea to go away for a week to your hometown. You are thankful for his suggestion because you would never have voiced your wish for a break out loud yet he had sensed it despite your silence. 

You’ve visited your parents, yes, but the majority of days have been spent on the beach where you’ve gotten some quality time with yourself. Javier has managed to tire out both of your kids with endless activities, and the evenings have been filled with long, slow kisses on the hotel room balcony. You have hoped for more but a shared hotel room means that you will have to keep everything PG-13.

“Look, Mommy!” 

Your thoughts are interrupted by Inés’ excited shout. She has placed seashells on the biggest of the sandcastles’ walls, making them imitate grand windows. 

“They’re beautiful, baby,” you praise adoringly. 

Lucas is by the shore with a bucket, filling it with water for the moats. He beams at you when he returns, and you smile right back at your beautiful boy. 

“Remind Papá to take a picture of you when you’re finished,” you say loudly for Javier to hear as well. He looks back at you, grinning with genuine joy and happiness but you’re too busy staring at his happy trail just above the hem of his bathing shorts. He notices.

“What’re you looking at?” He winks.

“Nothing,” you say back and shoo him, holding up your book for show, “Go keep an eye on your offspring, Dad. I’m very busy.”

The day continues. You manage to go through a few more chapters, occasionally watching Javier over the top of your book as he is enjoying himself. 

And then it is late afternoon but the sun is nowhere near descending yet. You are interrupted in your reading by a shadow above you, and you don’t manage to catch yourself as you automatically tell Javier off, “Honey. You’re standing right in front of the great big reading lamp in the sky.”

The shadow laughs and then you realize it isn’t your husband. You look up to stare at a familiar face anyhow, and your face grows hot. With quick motions, you put your book down and push yourself to stand.

“Jonathan!” You exclaim in what you hope is a calm and collected voice. You know it is a possibility, being in your hometown, that you run into your high school ex-boyfriend but it still catches you off guard. 

“You mean ‘honey’ right?” Jonathan jokes. You laugh politely and awkwardly, and despite the ring on his finger, Jonathan doesn’t seem to back down. He hugs you, splaying his large palm on your back - right under where your bikini top sits. 

Afterward, he gives you a once over with his eyes, and out of the corner of your eye, you spot Javier glancing in your direction. 

“God, you look well,” Jonathan continues, “Still in Laredo?”

“Still in Laredo,” you confirm, curling your toes into the warm sand. Jonathan looks almost exactly the same; blond, wide-eyed, and pale. He still sports a t-shirt with a print of a ‘70s band logo on the front that you remember him buying when it was cool. 

You realize that you haven’t done anything to make conversation, quickly adding, “And you? You haven’t aged a day.”

“Never escaped, teachin’ at our old school,” he shrugs. He eyes Inés and Lucas but only briefly, turning back to you when he realizes that you are here with a man too. Javier is throwing daggers his way but for once, he has no intention of interrupting which is fair since he would have to leave his children unattended for the time it took to play macho. 

“Course you are,” you smile genuinely. It suits him perfectly to be one of the people who keep the cycle of the quiet town alive, even if it is by simply replacing your old teachers, “And the ring? I couldn’t help but notice that we’re both married.”

Jonathan tells you briefly about his wife and kids. You don’t actually care, but he lights up as he speaks about his two daughters and that’s the most important thing in this whole conversation. He has a dreamy look in his eyes as he finishes, “And to think we thought it would be us.”

By instinct, you reach out to touch his arm and then you giggle softly because the image of the two of you getting old together is absurd. You have everything you need in Javier Peña… Who is fuming without you noticing.

You hug Jonathan goodbye and the rest of the afternoon is suspiciously quiet. 

*

Inés and Lucas fall asleep quickly, exhausted from the amount of fresh air they’ve breathed in today. Outside the sky is turning rose-colored from the evening catching up on you; the sunset will be long and beautiful. But you don’t want beauty with how much tension is between the two of you. 

You are brushing your teeth side-by-side in the hotel bathroom. It’s been a tight-lipped dinner. You honestly just want to go to sleep so you can start over tomorrow. 

Javier finishes brushing his teeth first. He waits for you, looking like someone who is contemplating whether to say something or not.

You finish brushing your own teeth just as he finally makes a decision, off-handedly throwing a remark at you.

“You sure were friendly with Jonathan earlier,” he says simply.

You let out a long sigh, stepping away from the sink after putting away your toothbrush, “Jesus, Javi, I knew this would happen.”

“What?” He leans against the sink.

“You don’t have to act like a fucking… I don’t know. It is every damn time a guy even looks at me - and it’s just not very attractive,” you are exhausted. 

“Excuse me for liking you to myself,” he looks away, “I like having you alone.”

You decide on something at that moment. 

“You already have me. Don’t you know?” You ask in a voice close to a purr. Javier raises a brow in annoyance, but you don’t give in to a fight so easily. Instead, you go to close and lock the bathroom door.

“Know what?” He asks impatiently.

“That you’re the only one?” You watch him standing against the sink counter. He doesn’t look as annoyed after those words but he still isn’t overly impressed with your actions earlier. There’s no way that he doesn’t know what clicking the lock means though. If only he knew the power you have over him, the power that you’re soon to make a display of. 

You cross the room to stand in front of him. You tilt your chin upwards to look up at his face but his eyes stray from yours the second you catch them. He can get so pissy sometimes, a part of the game, but you’ll take the challenge especially when you haven’t had his cock inside of you for a week. At this point, your core aches for him. 

Gently, you put two fingers under his chin and pull it down towards his chest so he is forced to look at you. Your smile is sweet as honey, “Thoughts of you keep me up all night sometimes. Hot and bothered, legs barely knowing what to do.”

There’s a pause where you can only hear his breathing matching yours. His pupils have blown wider, signaling desire for you. 

“What do you think of?” He finally gives in. 

“I think about all the ways you turn me on,” you tap his chin but then let your hand go down. It skims down his bare chest and over each ripple of muscle that quivers with each touch. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs. His eyes flick down between the two of you for less than a second when your hand hovers over his happy trail. The second you catch him doing it, your own eyes follow suit. It’s too hot to wear his usual pajama bottoms, so it’s so easy to spot that he is hard already, showing off the outline of his dick in his gray briefs. There’s a stain of precome. 

“Yeah, baby,” you don’t even hesitate, reaching down to palm the length of him. His breath hitches in his throat the second he is touched, and your voice lowers to a whisper, “All I do is fantasize about you. The way you kiss, the way you touch me, and mmm, the way you fuck me.”

“Mhm,” he hums softly in the way men do when they don’t really know what to say during their current state of mind. You have him scatterbrained with your touch, a moan falling from his lips and replacing the hum when you snake your hand into his underwear, wrapping your fingers around his cock to stroke him lazily. 

“You like this?” You ask but don’t give him time to answer since you tighten your fist around his girth. He forces a nod and you lean up to kiss his lips teasingly soft, “You really think I would ever touch another man like this? There’s no way. No comparison to how you look when I do it.”

“Go on and I might forgive the eyes you were sending him,” he tells you with a hint of edge in his voice. He sounds more desperate than confident, more wanting than he might want to let on. It fills you with self-satisfaction because you know that what you are saying about him goes for you too; you’ve ruined everyone else for each other. 

“I told you I was doing no such thing,” you reply. He pulses in your hand, precome sliding down over your knuckles when you make your fist a tighter fit, reminding him of what waits between your legs. You go a little faster, and Javier’s breathing speeds up. 

“Liar,” he challenges raggedly. 

“As if he could ever make me come as hard as you,” you egg him on, patiently waiting for him to lose control with you, “There’s only you, Papí.”

That seems to do something. Javier yanks your hand away, and you know the strength behind the action because he breathes the same way that he breathes when teetering on the edge of release. He has stopped himself but it’s only to enter your personal space more than you even thought possible.

He grabs at your hips almost violently, steers you backwards a few paces so he can flip the positions. Now, you are the one against the sink counter and it gnaws painfully into the small of your back. There’s an air of consideration for a moment as he checks in on you during the beginning of what can be regarded as playing with each other. You give him a dirty look, a small nod and he smirks back.

“Javi,” you mumble in fake confusion, reaching up to put your hands on his chest but you don’t get to do much because one of Javier’s hands comes up to catch one wrist after the other. It’s so easy for him to do, both because of his job and his physical superiority. 

He twists your hands behind your back and roughly shoves you down over the sink. He lowers his voice as he speaks, “You’re not gonna wake up anyone, are we clear?” 

“We’re clear,” you promise, finding his eyes in the mirror. If he touches you now, he’ll find you wetter than you have been in a long while. What is it about holidays and hotel rooms? Mixed with not having been able to touch each other since you have arrived here, it is a dangerous combination. 

“Te deseo mucho, amor,” he says softly and out of character. 

“I love you,” you reply. 

He dives back into the scenario. His other hand tugs at your cotton shorts, dragging them over the curve of your ass and down your long legs. You step out of them as soon as they lay around your feet. 

“I’m gonna let go,” he says and shakes your hands in his grip to indicate what he is talking about, “But only so you can cover your mouth for me and I can get out of these fucking underpants.”

He does as he said he would. You move to prop yourself up on your elbows, neck already having strained from the mere moments you’ve had to feel the cold porcelain against your chest.

Behind you, there’s shuffling. You cover your mouth as he enters you swiftly, jerking forward at the intrusion that has you panting damply into your palm. He fills you to the brim, stretches your cunt as only he can, and then he fucks you - hard, rough, and fast.

Your head spins, your knees bang against the cabinet’s front, and you try to strain the muscles in your legs so they don’t. He knows the ticking bomb that is your children sleeping soundly in the room next door, but he cannot help himself as he drives into you. He leans over you. 

“No one but me,” he growls lowly, “This little cunt belongs to no one else. She gets red and puffy for me, no? Filled up with only my come.”

“Sí,” you practically sing out but then quickly cover your mouth. He gets rougher with you then, each snap of his hips a reminder of how only he can make you feel like this. He is getting exactly what he wants, and he has you a moaning mess soon after. 

Your first orgasm tears through you after a rough pounding of your g-spot, sending shockwaves down your spine to burn at the base and throwing your upper body forward with such a force that you nearly lose touch with the floor, standing only on your toes as you clamp rhythmically down on Javier’s cock.

“That’s it,” he praises quietly, not relenting, “You can do one more, can’t you? Gotta remind you who makes you feel this good.” 

You nod through sobs. More, more, more.

Suddenly, he leaves you empty. The feeling has you on edge, makes you look at him over your shoulder because gaining eye contact in the mirror is somehow not good enough for the look of betrayal you want to give him. He takes a step back from you whilst panting frantically, gesturing to you by drawing a circle in the air, “Turn around.”

You straighten without thinking and flip around, so you are positioned as you were at the beginning of this. He seizes your hips, hands going down your thighs to grab at them and lift you up onto the edge of the counter. 

Your hand clasps around the back of his neck. He lifts your legs up to settle them around his waist, and then he guides himself back into you and continues fucking you with a force that has you lifting your free hand up behind you to brace yourself against the mirror. 

“Javi,” you whimper repeatedly, clutching at the curls at the base of his skull. He had wanted to cut it before summer came, but you are so glad that he did not. 

“Shh,” he soothes your growing cries and you know that he’ll make you come again soon, “Be quiet for me, baby.”

You don’t think he is quiet enough himself to demand such a thing from you. His stamina has always impressed you, but it’s the sound of his breaths that tears your own from your chest. Alongside the hungry eyes that bore into you, you don’t think that it’ll take long for this to reach its peak for both of you.

“I can’t,” you stutter a little more high-pitched than you intended.

“You have to,” he says with a hint of sternness but he cannot keep it up. Especially not, when he has to take the consequences of reaching down between your legs to thumb at your clit. 

You come so fast that you don’t even have time to warn him, and you cry. So loudly that he needs to kiss you to swallow the sound of you reaching your second, over-sensitive high. 

You throw your arms around him as he chases his own peak, whimpering at the hard thrusts he is giving you to reach his end. You hear him let out a drawn-out fuuuck as he spills inside of you. He pulses, settling deep inside you. He kisses you lazily. 

Everything goes quiet except for your shared breathing. You want to say something to finish the argument that almost never took place but a knock is heard on the locked bathroom door.

You freeze. Javier pulls out of you. The bathroom counter is a mess. 

“Mommy?” Inés’ little voice sounds anxious. You figure that it’s far from nice to find your parents’ bed empty on holiday.

“Just a second,” you say with a weak voice. 

“We’ll be right there, mí vida,” Javier says as well.

“What are you doing? Why is Mommy crying?” You hear her ask and Javier’s face twists in surprise for a moment before he starts laughing, burying his head in your neck as he holds you close. You slap his shoulder. 

“I’m not crying, baby,” you reassure. With a glare that’s anything but actually angry, you push Javier away from you to get cleaned up. 

“I have to pee,” Inés continues with a hesitant tone to her voice. 

Javier kisses you one last time, and you draw it out for a few more seconds than you have time for. It’s still romantic despite you holding a hotel towel between your legs. 

“One moment, mija,” Javier says and gets dressed in his briefs. He waits for you to dress too.

When you walk towards the door, he smacks your ass and you whip around to slap his hand away. There’s a grin on your face though, “Dog.”

“Go to bed, I’ll take her,” he just says.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[yuyusuyu]

bloody hell — forgive and forget

synopsis. oh, if only, if only she hadn't crossed paths with him. then maybe, just maybe, all of this could've been avoided... except, it was bound to happen by fate. there was no escaping the fate that was given to you at birth.

pairing. ot8! vampire! ateez x fem! reader (not poly! everyone will have their own ending!)

genres/aus. vampire au, suspense, romance, angst, slow burn

warnings. mentions/description of blood, arguing, cursing, jongho about to throw hands oop, mention of k wording someone help. if there's anything i should add, please lmk !

rating. pg-13

wc. 2.6k lol...

a/n. this was nawt proofread... super duperrr sorry for uploading late !! was very busy and am very busy right now but things should calm down next week heh.

send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

YOU ABSENTMINDELY TAP YOUR PEN ON THE DESK, your eyes reading over and over again what you had written down in your notebook.

MIDTERM

Find someone whose first/native language isn’t Korean + do a presentation on the phoneme of their language and choose one interesting phonetic element of that language and do a more in depth look at it

includes recordings + analyzing

MANDATORY TO FIND A SENIOR TO DOUBLE CHECK THE WORK (prof said she doesn’t want to do it and is lazy)

the last bullet point you wrote down makes you snicker—your professor is a prime example of how blunt she is— and shake your head, deciding to finally close it and put it away. the lecture room is empty now, your classmates having left minutes ago after the clock hit one in the afternoon. you remained in your seat to avoid their trampling, and quite frankly, you want to remain there.

but your phone buzzes, vibrating against the table and reminding you that you have to get going if you want to get there in time.

you grab your phone, your finger right over the screen.

jjongs: are you out?

you get up from bed, sluggishly walking to the kitchen to drink a cup of water, walking past jongho as he leans against the wall outside your door. it was when you had filled up your glass cup and brought it to your lips that he spoke softly.

“why didn’t you text me yesterday?”

he remains in his spot, his head hung low while he waits. three gulps and the cup is empty; you turn your back towards him and head to the sink, beginning to wash it. “i forgot.”

“you forgot?” his tone is… weird. not quite mad, but in disbelief? he doesn’t believe you, and you don’t know why. you’ve never lied to him, never given him a reason to not trust you.

“yeah,” you answer, scrubbing the inside of the cup harshly with the sponge, creating a lot of foam. “i forgot. why?” you pause for a second. “you don’t believe me?”

he scoffs, and you hear him walk closer to you by the way his voice gets louder. “did you really forget? you usually don’t forget anything at all.”

“well, this time i did.” you open the tap, staring intently at the water wash away the soap. “why are you asking?”

“i just think you’re lying.”

this time you scoff, finding it absurd that he’s telling you that. “why the hell would i lie to you?” is he really trying to argue with you right now? this early in the morning? the thought makes you angry.

jongho’s eyes widen the slightest bit when you turn around abruptly. you’re glaring at him, waiting for his next words, missing the fact his eyes are a shade darker than normal, like the color of obsidian, no hint of the usual brown in them. “kou told me he saw you with a man by the pharmacy at the corner. did you go on a date? did you even go to work yesterday?” the words spill from his lips before his mind even processes them.

“you’re kidding right?” when jongho stays silent, you dryly laugh. “jongho, are you even listening to yourself? you know i would never skip work: he’s too important. i work for kou, i work so i can pay the damn bills. did i go on a date? please,” the anger fades from your features, replaced by an odd calmness. “don’t make me laugh by asking stupid questions, jongho.”

“it’s not stupid,” he says, his gaze hard. “i was worried the whole time.”

“maybe you should stop worrying.”

jongho falters, blinking once, then tensing. “what?”

you shrug, “you heard me. maybe you shouldn't worry about me anymore.” you lift your hand and point at the door. “you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

you glance away. should you text him? apologize for what happened in the morning? or do you ignore him until you both forget about it? well, the third one isn’t the best to do right now, but—

the phone buzzes again, and you glance down just in time for the screen to show another message.

song mingi (womanizer? co worker): are you clocking in today?

“what?” you squint at the screen. “what is he talking about?”

another message pops up on your phone.

choi soobin (good co worker): i have sumn to tell you today ;/

choi soobin (good co worker): SHIT I DINT MEAN THAT

choi soobin (good co worker): I MEATN ;/

choi soobin (good co worker): WAITTTA3TTT

choi soobin (good co worker): I MEANT :/

you clear your throat.

choi soobin (good co worker): can i have a do over

choi soobin (good co worker): i need to redeem myself

you: have at it

choi soobin (good co worker): i have sumn to tell you today ;/

choi soobin: WAITITJITK

you: i’ll see you soon then

choi soobin: NO GIRL COME BACKKCKE GIMME ANOTHER CHANCE OLSSSS

“how silly,” you chuckle, checking the time.

jongho should be gone by now, hopefully already on his way home. there’s no way he’d wait out by the parking lot for you.

except he is, or rather, he just happens to be near the parking lot. when you spot him, walking down the path with two guys, you see that he’s staring intently at his phone. then, he looks up, as if he knew you were looking at him, and meets your gaze.

he leaves his friends behind, though they trail after him, and he's quickly in front of you, his other friends right next to him. jongho is rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish expression painting his features. “i—”

“you have got to be kidding me.”

a quick look to the right has your lips curling into a frown, seeing the redhead from days ago scowl at you. the redhead, wooyoung, glowers at you as if you’re some insect he can’t bare to look at, averting his gaze to the side and huffing. “just my damn luck…”

“well, you’re a rare sight around these grounds.”

you, jongho, and wooyoung snap your heads to the left: a man with black hair and cat-like features smiles at you. you’re about to bite back with a snarky comment on how he sounds like he’s talking in the medieval ages but with a modern twist, but wooyoung is quick to beat you to it.

“san,” wooyoung leans forwards to look at the male, “who the hell talks like that?”

san and wooyoung get into a heated argument, and you take this opportunity to step to the side and walk away with brisk steps, holding onto your bag with such strength your knuckles turns a shade paler. but you don’t make it far when jongho wraps a hand around your wrist. he’s gentle, afraid that one wrong movement will have you fleeing from him.

you look over your shoulder. “what?” your tone is harsher than what you wanted for it to sound, it has you wincing as your best friend grimaces.

his eyes, you note, are now it’s usual deep brown hue, though lighter now that the sun shines down. “i wanted to apologize for what happened this morning.”

his shoulders are tense while yours relax. you feel like a weight has been lifted off you now, like you can finally breathe. “you were an ass.”

“i know i was.”

“and you were being unreasonable.”

he huffs through his nose, the corners of his lips twitching. “you’re right.”

you swivel around and narrow your eyes at him. “and you were being weird. how the hell did you jump to the conclusion that i was seeing someone?”

jongho kicks a foot against the pavement of the sidewalk, looking down as if, suddenly, his shoes are the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “the… the demons inside me took over. like, literally.”

“the… demons?” you repeat, confused.

he looks up, looking sincere. “yeah… i just, i genuinely don't know what happened to me. the demons literally took over and i ended up losing my cool.” jongho pauses, eyes darkening for single second while he thinks, and turns his attention back to you, the usual deep brown back. “it must be the stress getting to me and i took it out on you in such a horrible way. i truly am sorry, y/n.”

he means it, you know he does. jongho taps a finger against the side of his leg, something he does when he's nervous.

“apology accepted.”

jongho brightens, “really?”

“yeah,” you smile, deadpanning the next second, “but no more pulling whatever the hell you pulled in the morning.”

“i promise that won’t happen again.” he beams, taking a step closer to you. his arms open up, and you huff through your nose and shake your head.

jongho’s hugs are always warm when you decide to indulge in them every once in a while. he never has a tight grip around you, it’s always gentle but firm. they’re nice and manage to ease your worries and whatever tension you have away.

“i’m sorry too, you know,” you mumble against the fabric of his hoodie. you realize then it’s the one you gave back to him yesterday by the smell of the expensive detergent mixed with that of the cologne he usually wears.

“what for?”

“i said some pretty hurtful things.”

“well, i deserved them.”

you don’t say anything else, instead closing your eyes and letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. that is, until someone decides to break this moment of tranquility.

“wait…” san points an accusing finger at jongho, who merely tilts his head in confusion. “don’t tell me…”

“what?” both jongho and wooyoung say.

“is she your girlfriend?”

“what?” the statement is so absurd that it has you reeling away from jongho, squinting your eyes at san like he just said something you can’t comprehend.

jongho lets his arms fall to his side. “no.”

“oh,” san breaks out into a smile. “you don’t mind if i steal her from you then?”

your best friend scoffs and ignores san. “listen,” he says, glancing at you. “stay away from those two. they’re… not very good people.”

“then why are you friends with them?” you watch jongho’s eyes widen.

“…it’s complicated,” he grumbles, “just—just don’t get too close to them.”

just don’t get too close to them. jongho’s words echo in your mind, the scene of him dragging both his friends away replaying over and over again. you never knew he was friends with people like them, and your mind can barely wrap around the sudden realization that you actually don’t know anything regarding jongho’s personal life.

there’s a tug at your hand that brings you back to the present, eyes falling down to the eleven year old holding it. “sis,” kou says, “we’re here.”

the book store you work at is right in front of you, the words ‘LUCID DREAMS BOOKSTORE’ in gold lettering staring back at you.

the doors chime when you push them open, the smell of coffee hitting your nose. kou lets go of your hand and runs away to his usual table, dropping his things on top and then disappearing into the fiction aisle.

you make your way to the back, reaching out for the handle when the door swings open.

“what are you doing here?”

“no ‘hello?’ no ‘how are you?’” mingi pouts and wipes a fake tear away. “do you hate me, yn?”

“no,” you reply, “but what are you doing here? we don't work the same shifts here.”

your shift buddy here is choi soobin, not song mingi.

mingi grins, “starting next week we will.”

“huh? what happened to soobin?”

the culprit himself comes out from the back, a pout on his lips. “screw this.” he grumbles, his once gloomy expression morphing into a happy one when he sees you. “ynie~”

“ynie?” mingi repeats, an eyebrow raised at soobin’s sudden change in behavior.

“yeah,” soobin says, giving him the nastiest side-eye you’ve ever seen. “because she’s my favorite co-worker and i’m hers, too.”

mingi looks at you with both his brows raised, shocked at the information. “for real?”

you shrug. “yeah,” you say, “soobin’s great to work with.”

“well not anymore,” mingi replies, smiling triumphantly as if he just won a prize.

“what?”

“yeah…” soobin drawls, looking away from your questioning gaze. “mingi and i switched shifts.”

“what—”

“—the hell is wrong with you?”

the door hits the wall with such frightening force that it leaves it broken with a dent. it's such a hideous thing to look at, the dent, that is. it stands out against the other pristine, white walls.

“i assume you’ll be fixing that,” seonghwa looks through the mirror in front of him at jongho, his eyes a deep maroon color, completely different to the bright red coating his lips. “right?”

jongho glares angrily at him, watching as the older male leans down, gripping the neck of the poor girl next to him. the platinum blond opens his mouth, his canines enlarging and about to pierce a new spot.

“tell her to leave.”

seonghwa stops, and his eyes turn into the hue of a ruby. “clean yourself up, bandage your neck. then you will leave this place and forget about it. today never happened.”

the girl stands up, eyes glazed over as seonghwa hands her a cloth and gauze, wiggling his fingers at her as she leaves silently. jongho hears him mumble something about killing her later as an extra precaution.

“what is it that you want, jongho?” he asks, grabbing a napkin from beside him and dabs the blood away from his lips, his eyes going to maroon and then a dark brown. “you interrupted my feeding.”

in the next second, jongho stands in front of him. seonghwa looks at him through his eyelashes, clearly unimpressed with his attitude. “well? you ought to spit out whatever is wrong before my patience wears thin.”

“you had no right to do that.”

seonghwa’s lips curl upwards into a wicked grin, eyes reflecting the amusement he feels. “ah,” he says, “so that's what this is about.”

he continues to speak at jongho’s silent rage. “i was just testing my hypnosis. i guess my theory is correct,” seonghwa doesn't falter when the collar of his white button up is fisted and he is made to lean forwards, “seeing as how it worked on you to some extent.”

“you had no right to do that,” jongho repeats. “absolutely no right.”

his thin fingers wrap around his wrists, tugging them off in one swift gesture. “i don’t understand why you’re so upset at me.”

at this, jongho scoffs, eyes blown wide from the fury that almost blinds him. “don’t understand?” he laughs through his nose, “you don’t understand why i’m so upset? i could’ve lost her because of you charming me!” he falters, the anger replaced by fear at the dangerous glimmer in seonghwa’s delighted eyes.

“so it’s a girl,” he hums. “who you care for the most. i thought it would’ve been hongjoong, maybe even yeosang.”

“don’t ever charm me again.” jongho backs away and crosses his arms over his chest. “don’t think about seeking her out either.”

“i’m not curious enough to do that to your little human,” seonghwa shrugs, “i don’t have enough time for that.”

“then why charm me at all?”

seonghwa smiles, “yunho suggested it.”

“what?”

“he told me i should try charming you to see if it works on you, told me to charm you into hurting the one you most care about.”

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BLOODY HELL | yuyusuyu 2024

[southangel]

hey againnn! hope ur doing well ^^ wendy, stan, and kenny (seperate) x fem touch starved reader? could be nsfw or sfw whatever u want

- ⚡

Stan, Kenny, and Wendy Being Touch Starved

Warnings: slight mentions of NSFW themes

Notes: Hi anon!! Hope this doesn’t get out too late, i’m trying to use my free time on working on all of my requests. Okay yeah this got out late, oops.

Stan Marsh

Honestly, Stan himself would be touch starved himself, if not more.

He really just needs some love, so a simple touch on the hand or a hug would brighten him up so much.

Since you’re touch starved as well, you both just spend time together all the time, rarely apart.

You and Stan always hold hands, whether it be at school, outside, at home, anywhere.

Whenever Stan is cuddling with you, he gets really awkward often, so he most likely has to be doing something separate at the same time.

You might just show up randomly at his house, unannounced. Please keep doing it more often, it makes day a lot better..

Stan is a really good listener, he’ll let you rant to him about anything and everything as you cling onto his arm.

Will get very awkward if you just grab one of his hands and put it anywhere on you; just because you can tell he can’t do it himself.

Stan can be very clueless, so don’t expect him to know what to do once you start crying for him to come back to bed.

He’s learned to tell you every time he has to go for a bathroom break, even when you’re sleeping because you can tell.

Stan had gifted you a matching hat as his with different colors a while back; he can’t remember the last time he saw you without it.

He’s too scared to ask about it though, he doesn’t want you to take it as an insult.

He changed your contact name to parasite without thinking you would see it, you left him alone for a whole week straight.

Stan apologized for it so many times, it was kind of intense.

He got really used to you always being with him, so it just feels unnatural to have you gone from him.

“I swear i’ll be back quick. I just need some water..”

Kenny Mccormick

Kenny was never too touch starved, maybe a bit, but he loves it when you are since it’s just an excuse for him to show you more love.

From the amount of affection he gives you, it’s surprising that you still act like this.

You could message Kenny at a random our at night, expect him to be outside your window.

Both of you aren’t really that social, so you might just sit together at a lone table, not minding about anything else.

Kenny might rest a hand on your thigh, just to hold you over, might go higher if you’re wearing a skirt.

Similar to Stan, he can get really touchy as well. Any kind of touch is fine, but he likes to just focus on you the entire time.

Sends photos of himself to you when he’s away just to tease you, he finds it funny how annoyed you can get.

Feels a little bad afterwards, so Kenny shows up as quick as he can right after.

He takes a bunch of photos of you when you’re like this, just for fun.

Kenny probably will kiss you everywhere but your lips, telling you that you already got “enough” affection from him.

If you both ever have work that’s due, you’ll just ask for a hangout to work on that together.

It’s really just an excuse to be next to Kenny, he doesn’t mind it at all.

Kenny loves giving you head rubs, and he knows you like it as well.

Sometimes he ruffles your hair at the same time and it gets all messed up. He fixes it before you can say anything, and actually makes it look better.

You probably copy that exact hairstyle from then on, or make Kenny redo it for you.

Always open for late night hangouts, don’t be shy to invite him over.

“Do you think I look cute in this photo? I probably do.”

Wendy Testaburger

Wendy is a pretty busy girl, but she understands how it feels to be touch starved.

She tries not to stay away from you too much, just so that you can get the attention you deserve.

Wendy doesn’t want to give you too much though, the last time she did that her whole schedule was fucked up.

A simple kiss on the cheek is what she does most of the time until she comes back, she can tell how needy you can be.

Wendy ends up inviting you over on the days where you really need her, watching a movie together or even just cuddling if that’s what you need.

You’re one of her top priorities though, so she’s always making sure that you’re comfortable.

Wendy is the type of girl to lend you her beret, or just any piece of clothing to let you have a part of her.

You both exchange clothes all the time and it’s so fun.

You’re almost always sitting next to her, doesn’t matter where. She might get a little annoyed at first, but she knows it isn’t your fault.

Spam calling and messaging Wendy late at night would get her so pissed.

You know she doesn’t like getting woken up, but you should be grateful that she loves you because she lets you off the hook easier.

Wendy would definitely know how to deal with your emotions, especially on those days when you’re extra moody.

A good listener, but a good conversation starter. You love just listening to her talk, even if you’re only focused on her voice and not what she’s actually saying.

The whole time she was just trying to comfort you.

“Anything specific you wanna do? Or maybe we can just cuddle..”

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 21st Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Howdy everyone!! How are we doing today? It’s soooo close to the end of writemas we only have like 3 days left!! Crazy. If you are still interested in seeing the rules or wanna join here is the invite post! Today these are my prompts! <3

Prompts used:

Feeling: The hum of song

Narration: She watched the clouds swirl and dance high up in the sky, as free as the birds playing in their midst, as free as she would never be.

Today is going to be a little short because I’ve been a bit busy this week somehow. Have more Aerlyra because she is awesome and I love her to death :D And oops I got a little angsty on this one.

Read about the WIP here!!

Enjoy! Sending love to you all <3

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

Aerlyra sat at the edge of her chair, peering into the small, silver mirror that laid on the table in front of her, watching herself at work. Interviewing her curly, dark hair together was certainly a huge task for her to do. It was quite monotonous work. Each coarse tendril rubbed against her fingers so much that they were going numb. Looping one strand at a time of her black hair over another—repeating it again with the next strand to its side—into an intricate pattern, as she had to do three times over for each braid on her head. So much effort went into braiding together the thick strands. Arguably too much for its results.

Finishing one of the braids on the side of her head, she stopped for a moment to take a look in the mirror at her progress. Only two of the three braids were completed, with the hardest one in the back and the other on the side finally done. Aerlyra let out a sigh of relief. Almost over. She picked up the mirror on her table to inspect herself further, wiping away the curly stragglers off of her light face. The mirror proved that her work so far was serviceable, but nothing too unusual from its usual quality. She was just going to work then home again anyways, and it wouldn’t be all that visible from her from her winter coat’s fuzzy hood. 

Looking at her work from the reflection, she closed her eyes. She tried to just forget what it looked like. Perfection just brings pain, but yet, deep down, she still so desperately craved it. No matter how much she denied it. But, she knew she could never be, she was not even close to being perfect. It’s been proven time and time again. It was a hard truth she had to swallow, that she wasn’t going anywhere now, that she was a wash-up. 

Keeping her eyes closed, she placed back down the tiny mirror. She began to hum a song as she started on the last section of her unbraided to her right. She wasn’t sure where she heard the song. Music doesn’t come far enough to seek her here. Not many things did anymore. It was her own choosing, anyway. Tears welled in her eyes as she opened them to look at herself when her thoughts got louder.

Glancing out the window before she got up to get dressed, she watched the clouds swirl and dance high up in the sky, as free as the birds playing in their midst, as free as she would never be. She knew it, the tears reinforced that. It was the same as life back home. Nobody is ever truly free. The very thing she wanted to escape, or rather run from, had followed her all the way to her tiny cabin in the expansive woods, just outside of a nobody town that not even a Queensman bothered to occupy. 

Queensman. How she loathed that word. Not for what it stood for, but for what it became to her. Just another thing she didn’t have the guts to do. Another thing she failed to do. The taste of the word in her mouth made her feel worthless for even trying. 

Smearing the trails of tears off of her white face as she finished her hair, she threw herself off the chair, toppling over the chair along with her, and steeled herself for the upcoming day ahead of her. She couldn’t be late for work, she would like to eat that night.

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

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[delumineight]

romione fic list

because it’s hard to find good ones

disclaimer, these are mostly all on ao3. this will be updated every now and then and open for suggestions !!! if you have any suggestions please reblog with them. this is an ongoing list that i will be adding to whenever i find something that i like enough to rec.

list below the cut, just so people who aren’t on my account or in the tags for this don’t have to see it.

rec list

the reasons by incalculablepower

— RATED T: background harry/ginny, past lavender/ron, a tad of inappropriate humor at the end, takes place at the end of sixth year or half-blood prince

SUMMARY: “As the school year comes to an end, it's time to reflect on the one that's passed and prepare for the next year. And with their two best friends otherwise occupied (that is, snogging all over the castle), that means a lot of quality time spent together...”

resistance of the mind by tuesday_piracy

— RATED G: background harry/ginny, current lavender/ron, pining hermione, black hermione, black lavender, takes place during christmastime sixth year or half-blood prince

SUMMARY: “Hogwarts is hosting a Winter Solstice Ball for their older students, and naturally, Ron and Lavender plan on attending together. However, as the night of the Ball arises, Ron is racked with familiar concerns over his attire, his looks, and his hair. So, naturally, he turns to Hermione, and she can't help but aid him. — Or: Hermione gives Ron a haircut. Absolutely nothing (something) happens.

anywhere with you by kieunlocked

— RATED G: takes place during deathly hallows during the horcrux hunt before ron leaves, discussing where they would rather be then in a damp tent in the middle of nowhere

“One-Shot of Ron and Hermione talking about places they’d rather be than the cold, miserable tent during the Horcrux Hunt. / “Though, to be honest I might rather be in the Potions dungeon right now than in this bloody cold tent any longer,” Hermione groaned, wrapping her arms around herself. / “Not the Potions dungeon, Hermione!” Ron said with mock disgust, slinging an arm around her easily, effortlessly. As if he’d done it a million times. And when Hermione thought about it, he really had been doing it quite a bit lately.”

don’t talk (put your head on my shoulder) by sarahxxxlovey

— RATED T: shell cottage, pre relationship, aftermath of torture, missing scene, takes place during deathly hallows

““I don’t know what I would’ve done if—” Ron said in an uncharacteristically tender voice, pulling away slightly to cover her cheeks with large hands, tears dripping down his nose. “I couldn’t— I thought I was going to lose my mind.” / “Me too,” she said, swallowing and nodding, looking up at him. “I didn’t think I could take it… I—” / Words failed her. She broke down into sobs again. / “Hermione,” he said, his voice cracking, kissing her wet cheek quickly before hugging her even tighter. “I’m just so glad you're okay.””

let the golden age begin by incalculablepower

— RATED T: missing scene, during lavender/ron, during apparation testing, maybe a tad and i mean tad bit of emotional cheating, as in people mistake them for boyfriend and girlfriend and neither of them make corrections, half-blood prince, sixth year

“A couple of awkward moments in a still-healing friendship. Half-Blood Prince missing moment.”

funny little frog in my throat by anonymous

RATED T — pining, specifically pining ron, fluff and humor, idiots in love, my personal all time favorite, they’re still magical but no war au

“Ron loves Hermione. It's an ugly business, he's very upset about it, but he loves her and that seems to be the axis on which his world turns.”

self recs

meet me in the woods

— RATED T: secret dating au, starts at the end of sixth year and runs until the shell cottage scene in deathly hallows, written for romione week 2023, oblivious harry, 9k words… oops

““We could just… not tell him.” / “Just keeping it a secret? Okay.” / Whatever Joanne wrote for Deathly Hallows was NOT real. This is (trust me).”

that damned cat

— RATED G: post-war, hermione’s eighth year, crookshanks fic, cuts to around 2009/2010 i think, cat dad ron, and just general dad ron, wine uncles drarry

“Ron hates that cat—but he loves Hermione more.”

[margowritesthings]

The Greatest Gift A Cowgirl Could Ask For

a @rdrevents Valentines gift exchange for @cowboydisaster

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader word count: 4,400 words warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, sexual themes, vaginal sex, mentions of death, unprotected sex, throwing up (TW EMETOPHOBIA), very brief mention of SA in the past, unexpected pregnancy, mentions of Micah Bell a/n: am I britney spears in her 2000 grammy award winning song??? because oops, i did it again. i don't know how I managed to get Bea as my recipient for a SECOND time, but it only felt right to carry on building this universe I've made for her and lying to her about it all week. Whoops.

Bea, my beloved, Happy Valentines Day. You deserve the world and Im so glad I could dedicate this fic to you. Honestly I probably couldn't have gotten the motivation to get back on my feet and write again if it wasn't for you. Thanks for everything you do bby and I hope this lives up to your 'if by some miracle you get me for your gift exchange disregard my prompts and write a TGG prequel' (yes she actually said that) idea. Love you lots xxx

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @luvliewriting @mrsarthurmorgan7 @photo1030 @snobbybastard

My Darling Wife,

I’m writing to you from up near Tempest Rim. I’ve tracked this bounty all over the goddamn Grizzlies and I’m ready to come home to you. I miss you so much and I’m real sorry I can’t be home in time for St. Valentines. Hopefully I can catch this bastard soon and make it up to ya. We’ll go to the theatre and sit right at the back, how’s that sound? I’ll move heaven and Earth to be beside you soon, you know I will.

I can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. I’ll be there as fast as I can be with enough money to take you out on the town. Won’t be long, I promise. 

All my love, Arthur

All my love, Arthur

All my love, Arthur

Your finger runs over his looped script, over and over as if it will somehow will your husband out of the crumpled paper and into your bed. It’s been 2 months since the letter arrived, 2 months of the agony of not knowing if he’s dead or alive robbing you of sleep each and every night. You miss him, more than you could ever imagine one person could miss another and you honestly don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t come home. 

It’s a 600 dollar bounty, it’s sure to be a tough job you constantly reassure yourself, unable to focus on anything but the absence of half of your very soul in every waking moment. 

The day he comes home starts like any other. Time's arrow marches on, the sun rises and sets over your makeshift family as they work and plan and rob and hunt. You busy yourself planning a job with Karen, cushioned into your schedule between menial tasks so that it’s just that bit easier to not think about him. As usual, your efforts are in vain, but at least the chores are done, your steed Diesel is happy, and, all being well, you and Karen will have about 30 dollars to split between you when the week is out. 

An hour before he comes home, everyone retires to bed, save for John (who’s on watch tonight) and you’re left alone by the campfire. It crackles and pops, embers swirling the air around you. It feels like you stare at the twisting flames until your eyes blur and burn and you can’t tell which are tears of irritation to your senses and which are your heart breaking once more.

Moments before you’re reunited with the second half of your heart, you hear John yelling. It’s instinct that drives your hand into your holster, still resting against your hip despite the late hour, and you perk up like a startled deer, straining to decipher Marston’s words.

“Who is it?!” “Arthur, you dumbass!”

Arthur.

Arthur?

“Arthur?!” It’s a breathless shout, barely heard over the rushing blood in your ears as your feet take you to your husband before your mind can even fathom that he’s here. 

But sure enough, when you reach the edge of camp, heart racing, you see Arthur Morgan riding his chestnut mare straight towards you, spurring her into a gallop as soon as he lays his eye on his waiting wife. Marston probably makes some remark about who ‘decided to show up’, but to you, there is nothing but you and Arthur, two magnets parted by an unnatural force finally reaching each other again with a deafening crash. 

And it is. A crash, that is, when Arthur all but throws himself off his saddle and your bodies collide, great big arms wrapping around your frame. It is then that the tears fall down your cheek, soaking into Arthur’s coat that smells so much like him it truly feels like a dream.

You thought he was dead.

Only when you’re safely in his arms, when he’s pressing frantic kisses to your head, whispering your name over and over into your hair do you allow yourself to admit that fact. You thought he was never coming back, and yet here he is. Words fail you, the overwhelming emotion settling right in your throat.

“Oh, god… oh, darlin’ I-I missed you so much…” 

You feel two large hands cup your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss that holds everything and anything the past 3 months could have been had you not spent it apart. But everything fits back into place, the world starts spinning again and you’re whole the second Arthur Morgan’s lips meet yours. It lasts a lifetime, it lasts a fraction of a second. You want to stop time, keep Arthur in your arms forever and never again have to go through the torture of being away from each other. The two of you only part to throw near identical scowls at John, who is amusing himself by telling you to get a room.

Unfortunately, as Ms. Grimshaw so often reminds you all, the Van der Linde Camp is not a hotel, so tonight you will not be afforded the luxury of a private suite as John so kindly suggested. There is only your tent, hitched against the gang’s weapons wagon, the old canvas pulled around to offer a little privacy when you and Arthur first started… well, needing the seclusion.

Calloused fingers intertwine with your own digits, Arthur’s other hand flipping John off before his weight pulls you towards your little corner of camp. There's so much purpose in his stride, the need to have you all to himself, not even share you with the lord above or wildlife below, driving him forward. Driving him home. 

When you’re finally, truly alone, the tears welling in your eyes glistening in the candlelight, no words are needed. Soon enough, you’ll talk for hours on end, catching each other up on every little detail of the last few months. But for now, all that there is and all that could matter is right this very second, when Arthur reaches for you, brushing a thumb over the tear tracks on your left cheek. His eyes, looking almost emerald in the dark of night, roam over each and every detail of you with such an intensity in him that you think he’s trying to remember this moment for the rest of time. You’re sure it’s one you could never possibly forget. 

Arthur snakes both arms around your waist, guiding you backwards until the backs of your knees gently hit the cot and you lay back onto it. He covers the full length of you and then some, making you feel so fragile and small. It’s nice to feel breakable for once, to let go of the need to be the strongest in the room, lest you be ridiculed for being too sensitive or too weak or too womanly. Arthur knows just how strong you are, you need to prove nothing to him, so you can submit to his embrace, allow yourself to just breathe for once knowing you can break and there’s re will always be somebody to put you back together.

He lowers himself to your lips, pressing a kiss to them that doesn’t last nearly long enough. Arthur then kisses your nose, then your cheeks and chin, before trailing down to the crook of your neck. Your skin feels as though it’s on fire, so starved for the man you cannot live without that now he’s finally here everything feels that much more intense. The tiniest scrape of Arthur’s teeth against your flesh shoots through every single nerve in your body and you moan right into his ear. You can actually feel him harden against your thigh at the sweet melody of your pleasure. 

Pushing Arthur’s hat off to the side, your fingers rake through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp encouragingly as he nibbles at your skin.

“Oh, Arthur… Oh, I missed you so much…” You breathlessly whisper, feeling your heart skip a beat when he pauses his movements to glance at you from under impossibly long eyelashes, jade green eyes glistening up at you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. So so much.” His voice is soft, as if he’s handling the peacefulness around you so delicately and it causes the overwhelming emotion to well in your chest and choke up your throat. Arthur sees this, trying not to be too taken with his own surprising amount of emotion himself, and relieves you of your job of a response by directing his attention to the buttons of your shirt. You don’t remember him pushing your jacket off your shoulders, but there it lies on the floor beside the entrance to your tent, so he must have.

Despite the juxtaposition of such dainty buttonholes and such large fingers, Arthur expertly undresses your top half until you’re bare to him. He takes no time at all to take one of your nipples into his mouth, kissing and sucking at it with a hunger you feel right in your toes. You moan loudly, unable to stop yourself after yearning for this very feeling for so long. 

Arthur coos and shushes you and it vibrates across your skin, not helping you stay quiet in the slightest. The hand not tugging on his dirty blonde locks reaches between your two longing bodies to begin to unbuckle his belt. You can feel your own heartbeat throbbing between your legs, your coil growing tighter and tighter by the second. It’s been almost 3 months since your bodies have joined like this, and yet you’re not sure you can wait another minute. 

You’re purring for Arthur, twitching and grinding as your hand fumbles desperately at the belt. His absence from your skin is agony the second he pulls his hips back to sit up straight. Spotting your downright bratty expression, bottom lip protruding in a pout, Arthur chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby… I gotta get these damn clothes off us.” He gestures to his belt, still very much buckled around his waist. Definitely not your fault. He was being far too distracting.

He’s quick, you’ll give him that, shedding his clothes without taking his eyes off you. You burn under his stare, even more so when he crawls back on top of you to slide your boots off one by one and peel your pants and undergarments down your legs.

The heat radiates off his huge body, his cock pulsing with need. The way he’s putting his weight into his arms to stop from crushing you with his weight adds a definition to his already beautifully sculpted body. Reaching down, you brush the tip of your finger oh so gently over his rosy head, finding a bead of cum already leaking, and you snap. You can’t wait a second longer, scratching and gripping at him like he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Please, Arthur, please I need you. S-So long, it’s been so long-” “Shh, I know, princess, I know. I’m gonna take care of you, okay? Gonna take care of your pretty little cunt, I promise.” He soothes you, though his own voice is shaky from the very effort of restraining himself, maintaining his control to not drive into you and ruin you. While he whispers to you, he lines himself up at your entrance and you quiver in anticipation.

In all your years before you met Arthur, you never really saw sex as anything but something to give, or worse, something to be taken from you. You never truly understood, not until you met Arthur, who taught you it’s something to share, to experience. With Arthur, it’s different. It is connection and pleasure and it’s wonderful and god damn it, it’s addictive. So when Arthur slides into you, letting out a visceral, guttural groan as he does, everything is right in the world.

You feel so full, especially when Arthur pushes all the way to the hilt, connecting you completely at the pelvis. The moan that escapes your lips is downright obscene and Arthur crashes down into your mouth to swallow it. 

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been so long, or the emotion of it all, but you swear you can feel everything. Every vein and ridge, every twitch and movement of his perfect cock as Arthur slowly starts to move in and out of you. 

“Fuck… s-so good, darlin. So tight- y’feel so fucking good, princess…”

You’ve never hurtled so close towards a climax so quickly in your life. His torturously slow, deep thrusts drag into your sweet spot every fucking time and trying to hold back brings a blur into your vision. Your own hips grind against his, Arthur gripping into your flesh to guide you perfectly in time with him.

“I-I’m so close already, Arthur… fuck…” You breathe out, your breath tickling Arthur’s ear and sending a visible shudder down his spine. He looks proud at your admission.

“You missed me that much, huh? Gonna cum for me already, darlin’?” 

He gives you no time to respond, pressing a thumb to your clit and rubbing in time with everything else. You implode, pulling Arthur down to catch the scream you’re about to wake everybody up with. It has never felt so intense, and with every thrust Arthur fucks into you it only grows and grows, shattering you to pieces for Arthur to fix back together again. 

When you return, a rhythmic thudding in your ears, the first thing you see is Arthur, of course. His jaw is fluttering madly, a bead of sweat clinging to his forehead but the candlelight makes him look ethereal. You still can’t believe he’s here, alive.

Tears start to glisten in your eyes. You’ve never cried during sex before, not for anything positive, at least, but somehow this doesn’t feel wrong. Arthur slows again, watching you, and you spot an extra shine to his own jade orbs. He knows. He feels it too. 

He’s right there with you. As he always is.

He brushes a piece of hair stuck to your forehead away, and the gesture is enough to send the tears falling down the same worn path on your cheeks as before.

“I love you, Mr. Morgan…” “I love you, Mrs. Morgan…” 

It seems to become too much for Arthur to stay still, and you’re glad for it. You’re desperate for the friction, already flying towards another orgasm. He’s really fucking into you this time, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in. He’s groaning and growling and you decide in that moment that it’s your favourite sound in all the world. 

“I… I ain’t gonna last much longer, baby…”

“C-Cum in me…” “Huh?” He slows, shuddering at the exertion required to control his movements, “I-”

But you’re not listening to his protests, your nails digging into the skin of his back and ass and anywhere else you can reach to urge him forwards again.

“Please Arthur, I-I need you… I need you to cum with me, I need you with me…” you plead with him, not truly understanding your need but honouring it. You’ve been without him for so long, you deserve him with you now.

He appears to consider you for just a moment, before diving down to lock your lips with his. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting every bit of you and he starts to pump into you unreservedly. His body grinds against yours and the friction is perfect and you’re so fucking full and before you can even try to hold back, you’re cumming again, stars scattering your vision, heart pounding out of your chest to find release from it’s mortal, physical cage. Your inner walls twitch around Arthur’s length and this time, he doesn’t hold back either. 

His eyes fly open and lock onto yours as you both climax together. It’s vulnerable and strange, but perhaps more connected than you ever thought possible for two people to be. 

Arthur’s cock twitches inside you, pumping out his spend as he groans viscerally, completely losing control of his rhythm as he thrusts into you one last time, harsh and deep. You’ve never experienced this before, with Arthur or any other man, normally erring on the side of caution when it came to such matters, but even as you come down you can’t bring yourself to regret it. Whatever you and Arthur just experienced together felt spiritual, and worth much more than a little risk.

Arthur collapses, even as depleted as he is still considerate enough to collapse onto his elbows and not crush you. He slides out of you, earning a little wince, and rolls to the side so you can rest your head on his chest. It’s like a locket that’s been ripped apart, finally fixed together with the most satisfying click. 

═══════☆═══════

Two months later, life has returned to its equilibrium. You and Arthur are perhaps clingier, still in a sort of second honeymoon phase where you just can’t seem to keep your hands off each other, more so than usual. It’s a side effect of prolonged solitude, you’re sure.

The first time it happens, you blame Pearson and think nothing of it. It’s pretty early in the morning and you’re sitting with Tilly and Abigail, peeling potatoes for the stew tonight. Abigail is venting her frustrations about when John did this and John said that, and everything feels so normal. Pearson arrives, throwing a rather large, rather dead fish onto the table you’re leaning against and you feel the thud from the weight of it vibrate against your back. 

It isn’t until the smell invades your senses that everything starts to feel off. It smells exactly like all the other fish Pearson has ever slammed onto that poor table, which doesn’t explain why you immediately lurch forwards, grabbing an empty bucket and throwing up your breakfast. The fish stench is suffocating and all you can do is get the hell away from it, not noticing when Abigail’s brows knit together almost… knowingly?

You skip the stew that night. 

―

The second time it happens, you try not to think about it. You’re riding Diesel and almost don’t make it off him in time. There is nothing to set you off, no horse shit or rotting animal at the side of the road, and yet in an instant your stomach feels like it has been flipped upside down. 

The sheer volume of your retching catches Arthur’s attention and he tugs on the leather reins in his hands to steady his mare. 

“Darlin’? Y’alright?” 

His concern is evident in his tone and in the tight line between his brows, which deepens when he finds you unable to respond in anything but a frantic nod. He dismounts, spurs clicking against the dusty ground when he approaches you. 

“Oh, sweetheart… that’s it, easy, easy… you’re okay…”

You feel gentle circles rubbed into the tense muscles of your back as you try to get through this again. It’s not lost on you that Arthur is speaking to you like a spooked horse, but it actually really does help. (You decide to prioritise peace of mind and not psychoanalyse why that is). Eventually, it relents and you regain your composure, albeit somewhat less gracefully than you’d have liked. 

“Sorry… I don’t know what’s gotten into me, maybe I ate somethin’.”

Your apology for something you can’t help earns you a sad smile from your husband, who places a loving kiss on the top of your head before reaching for your discarded hat and putting it back on for you.

“Y’don’t gotta apologise. I gotcha, darlin’.”

You know he does.

He always does.

―

The third time it happens, the luxury of denial is stolen from you. It’s early enough that your view while you sit with Abigail drinking coffee involves glorious hues of orange and pink scattered around the rising sun. It’s peaceful, tranquil. The warmth of the little metal mug in your hands and Arthur’s jacket around your shoulders is enough to ward off the fresh morning chill in the air.

There is absolutely no warning when it hits, when it happens again. You’re so goddamn sick (no pun intended) of hurling. Your eyes water and your throat hurts a little and you curse under your breath when it’s over. Abi is beside you, rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. She waits until it’s over before speaking hesitantly.

“Uh, can I ask you somethin’?” 

You nod, eyes still red and glistening as you swirl coffee around your mouth to take away from the awful, acidic taste lingering. 

“When did you last bleed?”

“What, like an injury? Uh, I cut my hand couple days back, but I don’t see what-“

… Oh fuck. 

═══════☆═══════

The anxiety bounces around your body and you decide that you’ve become far too acquainted with the concept of nausea. You can actually tell the difference between nerves  twisting your stomach and… well, let’s say it as it is:  morning sickness. This is the former, you deduce, spinning both your engagement and wedding ring around your finger to give your hands something better to do than carve fingernail-shaped moons into your palm. He should be home any minute now. Any minute now and it will all change forever.

It’s quite late, but the poker game Arthur was scoping out for potential jobs is known to last a while. You’re the only one still awake, poking the embers of the campfire to keep yourself as comfortable as possible. 

You hear hooves hitting dry dirt first, and it seems to trigger your fight or flight response. God, you’d love to run away from this, but that is pretty much impossible, so fight it is. It’ll be the greatest fight of your life, you’ll soon learn, one you’re privileged to be a part of. But right now, it feels like an all-consuming unknown. 

Arthur can tell something is wrong the second he sees you. You’re terrible at hiding things, especially from him. He always reads you as though you have a poster advertising your feelings printed on your forehead. Arthur dismounts, kissing you tenderly on the temple and wrapping his arms around you.

“What’re you still doin’ up, darlin’? Is everything alright?” You can feel his worry vibrating in his chest as you nuzzle into his embrace. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just… Can we talk? I kept the fire goin’.” You say it into his shirt, reluctant to move from this hold.

“Of course…” there’s something in his voice, a tense apprehension that really doesn’t help the knot contorting itself in your gut. 

While you’re more than capable of keeping a fire going, Arthur is an expert, and has it healthily burning within seconds of you sitting down on the overturned log the gang has fashioned into a bench. You’re back to spinning your beautiful gold bands around your finger, trying to remember to breathe in and out every so often.

“What’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” His voice is so soft, so kind that it makes you want to cry. But you promised yourself you wouldn’t until you’d told him, because this might just be the most important conversation you’ve ever had, and you definitely won’t get through it if you’re a blubbering mess.

“I, uh… I… somethin’s happened.”

You hear his breath hitch in his throat and Arthur leans towards you, completely enveloping your hands in his. They’re sandwiched in now and you can’t fiddle with your rings anymore.

“What? What happened? Was it Micah? If he’s said somethin’ to you, I’ll kill him, the rat bastard-”

“No, no, it’s… as much as I’d love to see that, it’s not him.” 

The tension releases. Just a little bit.

“I’m pregnant.” 

Oh wait, there it is. 

The silence is deafening, even though you’re almost certain it isn’t actually silent out here right now. There's a fire going and crickets are just metres away, you’re just shutting down with nerves. 

The normally so often tense, fluttering jaw of Arthur Morgan is slack, his eyes wide and gaping at you, occasionally flicking down to your so far bump-less belly. (You should know- you’ve been obsessively looking in a mirror any chance you get for some sort of sign that this is really happening). 

Say something. Please say something. Please don’t be angry. Oh, God please don’t hate me. 

“I-I… You’re pregnant?” He repeats, reassuring you that you haven’t actually gone deaf, though his tone holds no indication of anything but shock. That’s probably fair…

You nod, hands instinctively reaching over your belly. It feels… weird. Holding your hands over your baby. Yours and Arthur’s baby. 

“It happened a couple months back, when you got back from The Grizzlies, I think… I-I’m sorry, Arthur. I shoulda’ been more careful and-and…” You’re rambling, filling a silence that probably should just be allowed to be a silence.

“There… There’s gonna be a baby?”

There. Right there, adorning Arthur’s beautiful features, is the pull of a smile. It chokes you up instantly, so far deep in nightmares of arguments and unhappiness that you hadn’t even considered the good. You start to nod, a little bit of your fringe falling in your face.

“Yeah… There’s gonna be a baby. Our baby…”

“Our baby…” He repeats, his arm raising to brush the hair away from your eyes in such a natural manner it feels like it’s just his instinct to care for you. It is his instinct to care for you, Arthur has shown you that in every minute of every day of your marriage, and suddenly you’re not sure why you’ve been so scared. 

“I’m gonna be a dad?” He still seems in disbelief, but that’s normal. It’s taken you a few days to come to terms with it, and even then the fingernail marks in your palms are still red raw. 

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

It hits him. Really hits him and he all but throws himself into you, scooping you up and spinning you around as he laughs unreservedly.

“Well goddamn, I’m gonna be a Daddy!” 

You laugh with him, worries and anxiety a distant memory as your feet swing around in the air. You’re probably waking the camp up, but you don’t care all that much. Right now, you’re the happiest girl in the world.

A baby. There’s gonna be a baby. Arthur’s baby.

Really, it’s the greatest gift a cowgirl could ask for.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

hi okay so idk if your reqs are open rn (if not oops im really sorry) but pls plsplspls could you do svt with a socially exhausted introverted s/o (just coups if not svt) (this is totally not based on me and how absolutely tired i am of social gatherings) please only do it if you are inspired and have time! Dont force yourself!!! Also lysm youre doing great

ABSOLUTELY I will do this for you (also hi very rude of you to call me out like this, i am ur resident socially exhausted/overstimulated introvert gf) but since you brought up cheol I can't stop thinking about it for him and it fits so well! so here you go my lovely!! so: cheol with his socially exhausted s/o, or you can't filter your thoughts when you're peopled out and accidentally tell seungcheol you want to marry him (and maybe have his kids) gn reader, this is all meant to be comforting and cute, there are mentions of gambling at the beginning, pet names are used (baby, honey).

It's seven in the evening and Seungcheol has to settle a bet.

"Sorry guys. It's over." He throws in his cards, tosses some spare bills onto the table, and grabs his coat while the other boys groan.

"You owe me $50," Vernon says in English to Joshua, who shakes his head in disappointment.

Seungcheol decidedly will not be telling you about how the guys had bet how long you'd be able to last at your social engagement before texting him to come get you. Almost nobody had had any faith in you, and Seungcheol privately hoped they were right because you'd been so busy lately and he'd been missing you, but he knew that you'd be grumpy about people betting against you.

He's almost giddy, skipping to his car and humming along to the music as he drives to come pick you up, but that all changes when he sees you. Normally, not even your introverted nature can keep you from lighting up when you saw Seungcheol, but all you can manage is a tired smile and a wave as he pulls up to the curb where you're waiting.

"Hey baby," you call to him as he hops out of the car to open your door. "How was game night?"

"Boring," he says, wrapping you up in a hug, partially because it's true and partially because he knows how guilty you'll feel if he tells you he was enjoying himself and you pulled him away. (Never mind the fact that he'd leave his own presidential inauguration just to pick up a flower you liked.)

Seungcheol feels you slump against him, and he chuckles. "Tired?"

"You have no idea." This has been a busy and demanding work week for you, not to mention that your family recently moved closer to spend more time with you, and while you're very close, your sometimes demanding social battery is drained, leaving you exhausted, more irritable and emotional than normal, and prone to long episodes of dissociation in public. Even now, you can feel yourself begin to tear up. "I'm sorry for stealing you away."

He sighs, exasperated. "Let's get my baby home to rest."

He keeps one of his hands in yours as he drives. "Thanks for coming to get me," you say as you lean against the side of his car.

"Of course, honey," he says, keeping his eyes on the road. "Thanks for calling me."

If there's one thing Seungcheol will always do for you, it's unconsciously erase all of your anxiety around being a burden. It was one of the reasons it was so easy for you to be around him -- you felt so safe with him. He never made you feel like any favor you asked of him was too much, and he always made it seem like such a privilege to love you the way he did, without you ever even having to say anything. It's this thought that has you smiling at his profile, watching him as he drives until he gives you an uneasy look. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes," you reply easily. "You're a fine man, Choi Seungcheol."

"Did you drink tonight?" he asks.

You swat his arm. "No, I'm just too tired to filter my thoughts. And my thoughts are saying that you're really pretty."

"You are pretty," he says quietly, smiling to himself. "But thanks."

"You're welcome," you say, settling back into the seat and closing your eyes.

By the time you arrive home, you're feeling calmer and less scattered. After parking in the driveway, Seungcheol comes around the side of the car to open your door again. "Can I carry you inside?" he asks hopefully.

"Now?" He's been asking this since you moved in together. "I'm okay, really."

"You look reeeeeeeeeeeally tired," he begs. "What's the point of all this gym stuff if not to carry you across the threshold of our shared residence?"

"Save it for the wedding night, Seungcheol," you tell him, and then the both of you freeze.

Because really, that is the reason you haven't let him yet. Of course, you hadn't planned on telling him that until much, much later, but once again, your social battery being on 5% has gotten you into trouble.

But Seungcheol doesn't seem worried -- in fact, he seems kind of...proud? "Okay," he says staunchly, his chest puffed out. "I will save it for the wedding night. Amazing idea, baby."

You groan as you take his hand to let him help you out of the car. "Forget I said that."

"Not a chance," he says. "Don't worry though. I know you're tired, so I'll wait until tomorrow to ask you about wedding colors."

"Shut up," you giggle.

Seungcheol ushers you into the house and locks the door behind him, following you into the living room where you collapse on the couch. He laughs at the way your face is smushed into the couch cushions before padding into the bathroom and starting the water. You listen as he bumps around the bathroom, too tired to move your head to look at him, but a few minutes later he comes into the living room and crouches beside your face. "Come on, honey," he says quietly, his eyes overwhelmingly kind.

So you take his offered hand and let him lead you into the bathroom, where there is a candlelit bath with rose petals waiting for you. "Is the water okay?" he asks, a little nervous as you test it with your finger.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

"You're perfect," he says softly before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your nose. "I'll be waiting in bed for you."

Seungcheol closes the door quietly behind him as he leaves the room. You, for your part, are once again wondering where you found a man like him as you strip down and slip into the warm water, letting yourself fully unwind for the first time in a week.

You stay in the bath for nearly an hour, but it pays off -- you leave feeling much less frazzled and drained. You're still tired, though, and you're sure Seungcheol can see it on your face as you enter your shared bedroom clad in your pajamas, because he opens up the covers he's already under and motions for you to come into his arms.

You comply, nuzzling your head into his chest like a cat with its favorite patch of carpet, and he brings a broad hand up to cradle the back of your neck -- the spot where he knows you get your tension headaches, which he massages for you on days like today.

"Feeling better?" he asks softly, kissing your forehead.

"Yeah," you say. "Thanks."

You just lay there quietly for awhile, relishing the feel of his hand rubbing firm circles into your neck. You appreciate that he refrains from asking about your night, knowing you may need some time to process before you'll be ready to talk about it. But you know he's wondering, so you decide to give him something, even if it's not much. "It was really fun," you tell him. "It's just been a long week."

"I know, baby." He kisses your forehead again. "I'm impressed with you for going and for how long you stayed. And it's good progress that you called me before you got too overstimulated."

You chuckle. "It was either come home or start throwing things and maiming people."

"You made the right choice," Seungcheol says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

The moment is so perfect you want to freeze it in time: this man with his arms around you, in the low light of the bedside lamp, and the way you can just be around him without any demands. Your damaged filter, on the other hand, has other plans. "I don't know what I'll do when our kids just want me to be around all the time," you worry aloud.

Seungcheol's arms tighten around you. "Our kids?" he asks quietly, and you cringe.

"I'm exposing myself majorly tonight," you say.

"No, no, it's alright," he says, obviously trying to conceal how gleeful he is. "This version of you is...something else. I really like it."

"I'm sure you do," you grumble, but you muster the strength to look him in the eye. "Just so long as we're on the same page, I don't really mind you knowing I want to marry you and have your kids."

"We are most definitely on the same page," Seungcheol states firmly, leaning down a bit to kiss you. "I was on that page forever ago, so I'm glad you finally caught up."

And as he kisses you again, you think that as long as you've got him to love you whether or not you're capable of controlling your thoughts, any potential bumps in the road you might experience will be alright.

[albertasunrise]

Oops Baby - Frankie's Girl

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2

You hated their happiness. 

You hated watching as the two of them seemed to fall madly in love with each other. All the while your realisation that you had, indeed, developed feelings for your best friend had kept you up at night. Your heart seemed to ache. Permanently. You had lost count of the number of nights you had cried yourself to sleep. 

So you distracted yourself in whatever ways you could. At almost seven months pregnant you were struggling more and more with day-to-day tasks. But with Frankie often distracted by his new girlfriend and Benny busy training for his upcoming fights. You often found yourself struggling on. You didn't want to be a bother to Will. He had enough on his plate so you did what you could. 

Ben took on the role of best friend as the weeks went by. Frankie did what he could. The nursery was almost finished. The furniture was built and the painting was done. All that was left to do was start unpacking the clothes and toys you'd been given at the shower Frank had thrown a few weeks after you'd learned you were having a girl. 

Ben was busy putting up some artwork you'd bought when you'd carried in two refreshing glasses of lemonade. Placing the beverages down, you rubbed your side, wincing at the stitch-like pain you'd been suffering all morning. 

"Everything okay?" Ben asked upon noticing your obvious discomfort. 

"Yeah... Just got a stitch or something." You groaned "Joys of carrying life inside of you." 

"You should go see a doctor." Said Ben as he hopped down from the stool he had been using a moment ago and helped you sit "Could be something else." 

"Ben, I'm fine." You grumbled but you didn't stop him from helping you to the seat Frank had ended up purchasing.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little concerned that this was something more sinister. The pain had been getting gradually worse over the course of the day. What had started as mild discomfort had started to take on a stabbing-like sensation. 

"Have you called Frank?" Ben asked and you shook your head.

"No." You panted as you tried to breathe through it "He's busy with Mary and I didn't want to worry him." 

"You're pregnant Titch!" Ben exclaimed, "You know he'll drop anything if you need him." 

"I know." You grumbled "But I don't want him to - AH - I don't want him to think I'm - Ahhh Ben it really hurts." 

"Right!" He piped up as he helped you to your feet "We're going to the hospital and I am going to call Fish on the way." 

...

Frankie watched as Mary puttered around the kitchen. He loved to watch her cook. It was something she was passionate about and the fact that she was excellent at it made it easy for him to let her spoil him. 

Lately, however, he felt his retched heart failure getting the better of him. He felt weak all the time. Very little energy to do anything more than sit on the couch with her each night. She didn't seem to mind the fact that he didn't feel up to sex all that much anymore. 

Despite Mary telling him he wasn't. He knew he'd put on weight. His soft stomach looked rounder. He'd put it down to how well she fed him. She was careful to make foods she knew wouldn't affect his condition. Something that he deeply appreciated. But boy did he miss steak. 

His phone ringing pulled him out of his thoughts and glancing down at it, Ben's face flashed on its screen. 

"Who is it, babe?" Mary asked as she looked up and smiled at him sweetly. 

"Just Ben." He replied, pushing himself to his feet. 

"You should answer it." She said softly "Could be important." 

"It's Ben." Frankie chuckled "Likely wants to boast about the latest bird he's pulled." 

"You sure?" 

"You told me you wanted me to be more focused on us when we're together." Frank replied as he cupped her cheek "I promised you I'd do that... Ben can wait." He finished as he put his phone on silent. 

...

"Goddamit Fish." Ben growled as his third attempt to reach the pilot went unanswered. 

"He's probably busy." You sighed as you gripped Ben's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

"Yeah well, he's about to become a father." Ben snapped "He shouldn't be ignoring his fucking phone." 

"Ben, you need to calm down." 

"Calm down?" He panted "You're suffering from stomach pain and your 7 months pregnant!" 

"Ben-"

"What if something's seriously wrong?" He shrieked "What if you-" 

"Don't finish that sentence." You warned and he sighed "I'm sure it's just because I've been overdoing it." 

"Titch..." Ben trailed off and you gave his hand another gentle squeeze. 

"We'll be fine

...

Frankie was pounding on your door. After dinner, he'd snuck a look at his phone and had seen the multitude of missed calls and texts from Ben. He didn't wait to be invited in when The younger Miller brother opened the door. 

"Where is she?" He asked as he pushed past his friend, eyes scanning your lounge. 

"She's in bed." Ben grumbled "Nice of you to show." 

"Ben!" Frankie warned but the younger Miller was having none of it.

"No, you don't get to talk to me like that Fish." He growled "She could have lost the baby whilst you were busy fucking Mary." 

"I wasn't-" 

"Doesn't matter what the fuck you were doing." Ben snapped "You can't go ignoring your phone when you're two months away from becoming a father. 

"I want to see her." 

"She's sleeping." 

"Please." Frank pleaded "I fucked up okay! I should have answered." 

"You're right." Benny growled but his features softened when he saw how wrecked the pilot then looked "She and the baby are gonna be fine. Just need to take it easy." 

Frankie nodded before allowing Ben to lead him to your room. You looked comfortable where you lay. Hand resting on your prominent bump as you smiled up at Ben as he appeared through the door. Your expression changed when Frank followed behind him. 

"Look who I tracked down." He chuckled as he stood aside so Frankie could make his way to your side "I'll leave you two to it." 

"Titch I'm-"

"It's fine Frankie." You interrupted "I know you were busy with Mary." 

"It's not okay." The man sobbed as he rested his hand on your belly "If something had happened to you both I'd never have forgiven myself." 

"Nothing did happen." You sighed as you gave him a weak smile. 

"Titch... You've got Pre-eclampsia." Your eyes dropped at the mention of the condition "From now on. You and the baby are my priority!" he stated matter of factly "I haven't been here for you and I should have been." 

"Frankie..."

"Don't argue with me Titch." He sighed "Please. I need to do this." 

You could only nod. Giving him a weak smile as you let your exhaustion take hold. 

You took things easy as the doctor had instructed. Ben and Frank wouldn't allow you to lift a finger. The two men waiting on you hand and foot as your pregnancy moved into its final month. You appreciated the help too. 

You struggled to get around most days. Your ankles were swollen and your back ached. You were miserable. But the boys made sure you were well taken care of. 

Things in Frank's personal life however had become strained. He was desperately trying to juggle his time between you and Mary. She had been understanding of your situation. Always making sure that he was fed and well-rested when he came home to her. The situation was taking its toll on him. His health took an obvious nosedive as the weeks went by. Mary found herself wrestling with her understanding that you were about to become parents and her concern for how your condition was affecting him. Yet she kept her mouth shut for Frankie's sake. 

"How are you feeling?" Ben asked as he passed Frankie the wrench the man required. 

"Been better but comes with the territory when you got heart failure." Frankie chortled.

"I meant about the baby." Ben said as his brows drew together "Only a few weeks to go and all." 

"Oh, right." Frankie replied, not lifting his head from under the bonnet of Ben's truck "Yeah, excited." He then stated as he stood to face the younger man "Can't believe I'm gonna have a daughter." He chuckled. 

"Everything okay?" Ben asked, his concern obvious "You been feeling okay?" 

"Just tired." Frankie said as he shrugged his shoulders "Meds might need tweakin'." 

Ben nodded, smiling when Frankie handed him the wrench back and asked for a different tool. The bonnet slamming shut made Benny jump and turn on his heels to see his friend sprawled on the ground. 

"Fish?" Benny called out as he dropped to his knees, frantically searching for a pulse "FISH?" He all but yelled when he found none. 

"HELP!" He yelled as he started compressions "MARY!" 

His calls were answered by a sob as Mary sprinted outside to see the blonde working on her lover. 

"What happened?" She sobbed and Ben just shook his head. 

"Call an ambulance!" He ordered and she nodded, wasting no time pulling out her cell phone and dialling for help. 

She was then at Frankie's side, holding his hand as she pleaded for him to come back to her. 

"Please don't do this to me, baby." She all but screamed as her fat tears streamed down her cheeks "Frankie... please!" 

The sound of sirens filled the air and in the blink of an eye, she and Ben were being pulled to one side as the EMTs took over. 

"No pulse." One stated as another strapped a mask over the pilot's mouth. 

Then his shirt was being cut away and two paddles were placed on his chest. The medics then shocking him until finally, his heart beat again. 

...

You rushed through the halls as your eyes frantically searched each sign for your destination. Then, just as you started to think you’d been sent the wrong way, you saw the dreaded words you were looking for. 

Cardiac Care Unit - CCU

When you’d receive the call from Ben to say Frank was here you’d almost fainted. His statement still echoed in your head as you rushed through the doors, eyes scanning for anyone that looked familiar. 

“Fish’s had a cardiac event.” 

What did that even mean? Had he had a heart attack? 

Was his condition getting worse? 

Finally, your eyes landed on Benny and you choked on a sob as you sprinted to him, hands cradling your small bump. 

“How is he?”

“Stable.” Ben replied, eyes brimming with unshed tears “His heart just fucking stopped.” Ben choked "One minute we were checking on something with my truck and the next he was on the ground..." 

"Benny..." You trailed off as you held him.

"He said he'd been feeling a little off lately but I didn't think-" 

"This is not your fault Ben." You stopped him in his tracks "Frank's heart's not been good for a while. But he's going to get the best care and he's going to be fine." 

Ben nodded. Knocking a few of those tears in his eyes loose before pulling you close again, gasping when he felt a kick against his stomach. 

"Did she?-"

"She's obviously saying hello to her uncle Ben." You chuckled as you smiled up at him. 

"Hey, lil' Titch." He said sweetly as he placed his hand over your bump, grinning when he was greeted by another kick. 

“What’s she doing here?” Piped up a new voice and your eyes drifted to Mary who was standing, glowering at you. 

“She is his friend.” You growled at her, feeling your blood boil at her eye roll. 

“She’s also carrying his child.” Ben growled out “She deserves to be here.” 

“If she's such a good friend, she would've noticed how sick he's been lately." Mary growled and your stomach dropped. 

"He has?" You all be whispered, eyes drifting to Ben whose head hung low "Why didn't anyone tell me?" 

"It shouldn't be everyone else's responsibility to tell you when someone's health is shit." She growled and Ben had had enough.

"Back off Mary." He growled out, his eyes dark as he glared at her "She's had her own shit going on and you know that."

She all but scoffed. 

"He wouldn't be here if she noticed he was struggling." She snapped and you sobbed, clutching your bump as your eyes flitted between you her and Ben. 

She was right. You hadn't noticed that Frankie's health had been declining and you hated yourself for that. You'd been so caught up in your own situation to see that Frankie, the father of the life inside of you, was suffering himself. 

"I'm so sorry." You choked as you looked at Mary with a wrecked expression. 

"Yeah well, you can tell that to him." She growls "If he lives." 

Next

Fic updates: @albertasunrise-ficsblog

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[fanby-fckry]

One Man’s Romcom is Another Man’s Psychological Horror

Day 4 of Ace Alastor Week: Date Night

Word Count: 3,062

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Additional Warnings: Second-Hand Embarrassment, Violence, Stabbing, Hand Trauma, Implied/Referenced Stalking

Relationships: Alastor/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, you can’t prove it didn’t happen (but it probably didn’t), Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Crack, Crack Treated Somewhat Seriously, Genre Clash, Romantic Comedy, Psychological Horror, Angst and Humor, Angst, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Bad Ending, POV Alternating, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator Times 2, (seriously they both have such a skewed view of things), One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, One-Sided Alastor/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Aromantic Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Romance-Repulsed Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Deer Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Being an Idiot (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Being Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Out of Character Vox (Hazbin Hotel), (maybe? idk honestly), Bisexual Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Bisexual Disaster Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Incel Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Misunderstandings, First Dates, Awkward Dates, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Conversations

Series: Part 4 of Fanby’s Ace Alastor Week 2024 ( <- Prev || Next -> )

Summary:

*A*

Vox had proposed a business meeting, the following Friday at seven.

To which Alastor replied, “Splendid! It’s a date!”

Vox’s screen went fuzzy. Ha! It was always very entertaining to watch his reactions to Alastor’s attention. Something so small as accepting an invitation to a meeting was enough to elicit a malfunction. What fun!

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him. What an idiot.

*V*

“Szz-seven,” Vox sputtered.

“Splendid!” Alastor replied.

And then he said three words that just about fried Vox’s circuitry.

“It’s a date.”

Vox’s vision blurred around the edges, tunneling until all he could see was Alastor’s smiling face.

He’d fumbled the invitation, made it sound like just another fucking business meeting. And yet, Alastor… Alastor still…

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him fondly. Vox thought he might be in love.

*

Vox asks Alastor out on a date; Alastor says yes to a business meeting. Vox’s romcom quickly turns into Alastor’s psychological horror.

Better on AO3

Author’s Notes:

This was meant to be a comedy of errors and somehow turned into a combination romcom/psychological horror. Oops.

I’m sorry to everyone in the poll who voted for this thinking it was going to be all humor. This just kinda… happened.

Set sometime in the late 60’s or early 70’s.

I’m not sure whether or not I wrote Vox OOC. You guys know I love playing with baby Overlords because it gives me an opportunity to write them as more insecure and less stable, and that’s exactly what I did. DLDR and all that jazz.

The bad ending tag is there because Alastor goes final girl on Vox’s ass. Don’t worry, though, nobody gets seriously physically hurt. Just their feelings and their pride.

Alastor sat, back straight, smile strained, through what was turning out to be one of the most awkward nights of his life. And not even the fun kind of awkward!

There was something called second-hand embarrassment that Alastor did not seem to suffer from, as he typically found the social ineptitudes of others to be hilarious – but this was about as close as he’d ever come to relating to the term.

Vox was making a fool of himself. And rather than being entertained, Alastor just felt… Odd.

Alastor sighed. He wondered where it had all gone wrong. After all, it started off simply enough…

*A*

Vox had proposed a business meeting, the following Friday at seven.

To which Alastor replied, “Splendid! It’s a date!”

Vox’s screen went fuzzy. Ha! It was always very entertaining to watch his reactions to Alastor’s attention. Something so small as accepting an invitation to a meeting was enough to elicit a malfunction. What fun!

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him. What an idiot.

*V*

It was a simple plan. Start a conversation with Alastor. Ask Alastor for a date. Take Alastor out on a date. Real simple.

So naturally, Vox managed to fuck it up.

“Do you wanna… maybe… get dinner sometime?”

Alastor cocked his head to the side. Fuck, why did he have to be so cute? Vox was already tripping over his words, his speakers glitching from the anticipation of finally asking Alastor out. Those little deer-like motions were going to make him short out!

“Dinner?” Alastor sounded vaguely amused.

Vox felt something surge. He wasn’t sure what.

“Yeah, dinner,” Vox repeated. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, feeling less and less sure of himself by the second.

Focus, focus, focus! he berated himself. Stick to the script!

Vox smiled as confidently as he could manage. “There’s this really nice new steakhouse right on the edge of my territory, and they keep a table open for me on Friday nights.”

In reality, Vox had reserved that table three weeks in advance. But the idea that the restaurant respected/feared their new Overlord enough to offer him a standing reservation unprompted sounded much more impressive.

“I could take you as my plus one.”

Alastor hummed and tapped a single red claw against his chin. “And why would I want to be your plus one?” he asked coldly.

Ouch. Good thing Vox didn’t need a heart anymore, because it felt like Alastor had just ripped it out of his chest.

Vox suppressed the instinctual sound effect that came with the feeling and tried to push past it.

“I just thought we could…” his voice came out stilted and wavery. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “We could talk… and stuff…”

Alastor seemed more interested in his own nails than in the conversation.

Fuck, Vox thought. I’m losing him!

Vox laughed to cover his discomfort. “It’d be like… a business meeting… but with food!”

No, no, no!

Alastor’s smile widened. “A business meeting with food,” he parroted.

Kill me, Vox thought. “Yeah. That’s… what I said.” Put me out of my fucking misery.

“Hm.” Alastor paused for an agonizing moment, then shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?”

Vox perked up immediately. “Really?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Alastor laughed. “Yes, really! What time, Friday?”

“Szz-seven,” Vox sputtered.

“Splendid!” Alastor replied.

And then he said three words that just about fried Vox’s circuitry.

“It’s a date.”

Vox’s vision blurred around the edges, tunneling until all he could see was Alastor’s smiling face.

He’d fumbled the invitation, made it sound like just another fucking business meeting. And yet, Alastor… Alastor still…

“It’s a date,” Vox repeated.

Alastor smiled at him fondly. Vox thought he might be in love.

*A*

Vox insisted on picking Alastor up from his radio tower and driving them both to the restaurant.

Alastor had laughed when he first suggested it, thinking it was a joke. Afterall, it was hardly necessary. Alastor’s powers involved not one but two means of magical transportation that far exceeded the abilities of even the latest and greatest modern automobile.

But Vox wouldn’t budge!

When Alastor asked him why, he’d lowered his big block of a head and muttered something about how it was, ‘more romantic that way.’

Alastor had no idea what that had to do with anything. But in the end, he acquiesced. The whole thing was Vox’s idea, after all. Might as well let him handle the transportation.

*V*

Today was the day. Vox had everything set up. He double and triple checked the reservations – and bribed the waitstaff to play along with his little white lie – cleaned his car, practiced driving the route from Alastor’s tower to the restaurant, and most importantly, bought Alastor flowers.

He’d waffled on the flowers for a while. He didn’t wanna come on too strong – roses felt like more of a third date thing – but he also didn’t want it to seem like he got something cheap or generic.

In the end, he settled on red tulips and rhododendrons – red was definitely Alastor’s favorite color – with some white candytufts to break up all the red.

Vox arrived at Alastor’s tower at 6:26 pm and knocked on the door at 6:29. That would leave two minutes for Alastor to open the door, three minutes for conversation, one for Vox to escort him to the car, and still let them reach the restaurant with a minute to spare.

Alastor opened the door. He was wearing his usual coat and suit – which was fine! Nobody was going to enforce dresscode on the fucking Radio Demon. Vox had dressed up, though. Oh fuck, was he overdressed?

Vox panicked. He thrust the bouquet in Alastor’s direction and said something that sort of resembled the words, “For you.”

Alastor took the bouquet. The bouquet promptly wilted.

“Thank you!” Alastor said, and casually threw the wilted bouquet aside.

“Involuntary phytokinesis!” Alastor explained. “Flowers don’t agree with my powers.”

“Oh.” Vox rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Apology accepted, my friend!” Alastor clapped Vox on the shoulder. “Well, let’s get a move on! Shake a leg, old pal!”

Alastor pushed past Vox and headed towards the car. Vox followed closely behind, resisting the urge to curse under his breath.

This was not how he’d expected things to go.

*A*

The ride to the restaurant was unsettling in a way Alastor couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It wasn’t the automobile or the road or the pedestrians that were the trouble. No, it was the driver. It was Vox.

Something was off about him. How queer.

*V*

They arrived at the restaurant right on schedule. Vox pushed past the crowd of various lesser demons to get to the host station. Alastor watched, clearly in awe of the confidence and power he exuded.

*A*

Vox rudely pushed his way through the demons waiting their turn to speak to the maître d’. Alastor curled his upper lip in disgust, appalled by Vox’s terrible manners.

*V*

Vox flashed the maître d’ a smile. “Table for two.”

“Your usual table awaits, sir,” the maître d’ lied. “Right this way.” He bowed his head, showing Vox and Alastor due respect as Overlords, and led them to their table.

It was the best seat in the house, Vox had made sure of it. Far enough from the kitchens and bathrooms to avoid excess foot traffic or unpleasant smells, close enough to the grand piano to get the full effect of the music without it drowning out their conversation.

The table was set for two, complete with romantic candle light. It was perfect.

Vox pulled out a chair for Alastor – only to have him sit in the opposite seat.

Vox short circuited.

*A*

Vox pulled out a chair for himself. Alastor sat in the seat across from him.

Then, for some unknown reason, Vox froze. Something misfired in that big, square head of his. Alastor laughed.

“I meant to do that,” Vox said, once he regained what little sense he had, and sat down.

“Of course.” Alastor folded his hands in his lap. He smiled as he watched Vox awkwardly fiddle with his silverware.

Vox seemed to be returning to his natural state – insecurities covered by a thin veneer of false confidence which bordered on arrogance, with a deliciously desperate, easily exploitable thirst for attention that couldn’t be hidden no matter what measures the poor man attempted to take.

Good. Whatever that other thing was had started to become… unnerving.

*V*

Vox kept his head down for a while, feigning interest in the silverware while trying to get his shit together.

He was on a date with Alastor. He’d planned the date down to the letter. Nothing was going according to plan.

Vox stole glances at Alastor whenever he dared to lift his gaze.

The candlelight cast Alastor in a warm glow, his eyes a dazzling ruby red. The shadows around him danced – whether from the flickering of the flame or the nature of Alastor’s powers, Vox didn't know. He looked… He looked beautiful.

Vox decided to tell him so.

*A*

With Vox acting more like his usual self, Alastor turned his attention to the menu.

He didn’t suppose they had Sinner meat on the menu – and little more than a cursory glance confirmed his suspicions. Oh well! He was sure to find a cut of meat he’d enjoy.

And besides, he preferred to be selective when it came to sourcing once sentient meat. He’d rather make the kill, himself, or procure it from another cannibal whose tastes he trusted, like Rosie, than order from an establishment he knew next to nothing about.

Speaking of which, the restaurant actually seemed quite tasteful. Live music in the form of a vulpine Sinner playing a grand piano, tasteful decor and fine architecture. Alastor hoped that the food would live up to the atmosphere.

Hm, he’d better get back to the menu. He wouldn’t want to be caught unprepared when their server arrived.

Alastor was just barely aware of the fact that Vox was paying more attention to him than to his own menu, but that really wasn’t any of Alastor’s concern. In fact, it would be rather entertaining to watch Vox scramble to choose a dish last minute.

“You look beautiful,” Vox blurted out, completely unprompted.

Alastor’s ears swiveled in Vox’s direction, but he didn’t deign to take his eyes off the menu. “I look exactly like I always do, Vox.”

“And you’re always beautiful.”

That time, Alastor’s eyes flicked up on their own accord. He felt his ears stand up straighter, and his tail – of all things! – attempt to flip upwards, prevented from doing so by the way he’d tucked it firmly beneath his clothes.

Alastor hummed his acknowledgement and returned to his menu.

So much for Vox being his usual self. What the hell was he on about?

*V*

Vox didn’t need to read the menu. He’d already memorized his order for tonight, down to the last detail. And he’d also chosen Alastor’s. Ordering for your date was a great way to impress them by showing off your confidence and your intimate knowledge of their preferences.

*A*

By the time the server – a lioness Sinner with a sparse mane; Leyonarda, according to her nametag – arrived at their table, Alastor had chosen a drink and an appetizer, and was well on his way to deciding what he would have for the main course.

Vox had apparently also decided, despite barely glancing at the menu. Well, if he had a standing reservation, perhaps he already had a signature order.

Vox gave the waitress his own order, which Alastor didn’t care to pay much thought to, and then did something that caught not only Alastor’s attention, but his ire.

“And he’ll have the-”

“Ha!” Alastor interrupted. “I’m quite capable of ordering for myself, Vox.” So he did.

After the waitress left, Alastor sat, fuming.

The fucking audacity on the man. What had possessed him to think he could make decisions on Alastor’s behalf?

For something as mundane as ordering an appetizer, perhaps Alastor should’ve let it slide. But Vox had been acting strangely and lacking manners all evening.

Now, Vox had always been a bit strange – Alastor rarely wasted time on people that weren’t – and had generally been letting his new Overlord status go to his head when it came to interactions with the masses, but this… This was something else.

Alastor glared daggers at Vox from across the table. Vox wouldn’t meet Alastor’s eye in return. At least he had the decency to be ashamed of himself.

*V*

So much for impressing Alastor by ordering for him. Vox had put so much effort into learning Alastor’s non-cannibalistic eating habits, too!

Not to mention the fact that Alastor had had all of ten minutes to look over the menu while Vox had been studying it for weeks.

And now Alastor had the nerve to be angry with him? What the fuck?

Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. Everything was blowing up in his face. At first, Vox had blamed himself, but now that he’d had time to think about it, really, the problem was Alastor.

Alastor had agreed to go on a date with Vox, and then rejected him at every turn.

Alastor had nitpicked Vox’s choice to drive them to the restaurant, then clammed up on the drive over, practically ignoring Vox the whole way there.

Alastor had destroyed the flowers Vox put so much time and effort into choosing. Thrown them away like trash. And he’d snubbed all of Vox’s attempts to be romantic since.

Alastor had played hot and cold from the very beginning, smiling and laughing and being the first one to call it a date! And now he was giving Vox the cold shoulder?

Talk about mixed signals.

*A*

Vox was giving off mixed signals. One minute he seemed subdued and apologetic, the next he was making some comment or another about Alastor.

Alastor’s appearance, Alastor’s attitude, Alastor’s choice to order his own Goddamned food.

Alastor had no idea what had triggered this shift in Vox’s behavior, but he had half a mind to start taking that mechanical head of his apart in hopes of finding out. Or simply to change the channel from inane commentary and false guilt to screams of pain and cries for mercy.

Either option sounded more appealing than sitting here and enduring Vox’s rapid decline in intellect.

The only thing stopping him was that – tonight’s oddities aside – Alastor considered Vox an ally, perhaps even a friend.

Because Vox’s television broadcasts used radio waves, his empire relied heavily on Alastor’s domain. Alastor had used this as leverage for countless favors, and would continue to do so until Vox outgrew either his usefulness or his entertainment value.

Alastor could always rely on Vox as a source of amusement when that ever-creeping sense of boredom threatened to consume him, and he enjoyed pushing Vox’s physical and metaphorical buttons to no end.

It wasn’t much of a stretch to say that Alastor usually enjoyed Vox’s company. Or that he was hesitant to end their working relationship over one night of… whatever this was.

So, Alastor endured.

And that was how Alastor wound up here, feeling a bit like he should be clawing his own skin off and a lot like he should be flaying Vox’s with one of the handily provided steak knives.

And doing neither because he was waiting to see how the night would play out. Waiting to see if he would get the Vox he used to know back at the end of it.

Leyonarda returned with their drinks. Vox drank freely. Alastor didn’t touch his.

Instead, he rested his hand on the table, tapping his claws against the wood. His skin prickled and itched. His legs were restless. His ears were still standing alert, swiveling and twitching in reaction to the sounds around them.

Since arriving in Hell, there was a part of Alastor’s brain that he’d done his best to ignore. A primal, animalistic part of him that had come free with this cursed cervine form. A prey instinct.

And currently, it was screaming.

Alastor’s claws drummed against the table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. And his heart matched it beat for beat.

Time slowed.

Vox reached across the table.

Alastor stabbed Vox’s hand.

Vox let out a staticky hiss of pain. His hand was stabbed clean through with the steak knife Alastor had been eyeing. Pinned to the table, just inches away from where Alastor’s hand rested.

Alastor’s bones began to creak. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Vox’s wound was sparking. Alastor’s left hand was still holding the knife. Fortunately for him – though, unfortunately for Vox – the handle was an insulator.

“Me?” Vox all but screamed. “What the fx-ff-fuck are you doing?”

“Enforcing a well-established rule regarding touch,” Alastor informed him. His antlers grew heavier on his head and feedback crackled in both his voice and the air around them.

Somewhere, someone who was not Vox screamed. Then another. Then another. Dishes crashed to the ground, tables were flipped, demons were trampled. A cacophony of terror as the other patrons fled from the sight of two Overlords on the precipice of battle.

“The rule…” Vox’s mouth hung open dumbly for a moment before being replaced by a ‘technical difficulties’ screen.

When his face returned, it was distorted with lines of static. “The fz-fx-fucking fi-i-ive foot rule?”

Alastor twisted the knife. “That’s the one!” he said, aiming for cheery and landing on hysterical.

Vox slammed his non-injured hand down on the table. “You ssz-st-st-STILL wanna use thx-the FIVE FOOT RULE?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Bec-cx-cause we’re on a DATE!”

Alastor’s feedback spiked, screeching with the voices of every Soul that’d met their end at Alastor’s hands. For a moment, Vox’s scream was among them.

Alastor removed the knife from Vox’s hand and laid it down on the table. He reigned in his static the best that he could.

Alastor turned away from Vox. “Forget tonight ever happened.”

“Alastor-”

Alastor turned his head one-hundred and eighty degrees and all the static he’d held back returned to his voice. “Forget it.”

Alastor left the restaurant. He didn’t see Vox again for a long while.

End Notes:

Usually, I leave end notes as an AO3 exclusive perk, but these were very important end notes.

The flowers are foreshadowing. Vox doesn’t know Victorian flower language and picks them on looks alone, but they’re actually indicative of what’s to come.

Red Tulips -> Declaration of Love (Vox’s intentions for the date)

Candytufts -> Indifference (Alastor’s reaction to most of the date)

Rhododendrons -> Danger (shit’s about to go down)

There was another detail that I couldn’t manage to fit which was that the restaurant was meant to be called Carnivora, as in the order of animals Carnivora, and is staffed entirely by carnivore Sinners. Vox either didn’t notice or figured that since Alastor’s a cannibal, it wouldn’t bother him. But that was definitely part of Alastor’s innate sense of danger here.

[hogans-heroes]

Drabble Prompt (anon): “In honor of it being my birthday this week...buck forgetting his bday but bucky celebrating! and maybe buck forgets because his parents weren’t big on bdays growing up… but bucky makes him feel loved.”

Hope this isn't too late! Have a very happy birthday <3 This got looong oops

****

Bucky wiggled his hips and hummed along to the cheery holiday music from the radio, fully enjoying his quiet afternoon as he finished Gale’s birthday dinner. It was a simple collection of their favorite foods that were easy to make, and just as he finished setting the table the front door opened. After a bit of shuffling, Gale appeared, wearing one of Bucky’s sweaters which was too big on him, sleeves reaching his fingertips, and Bucky’s chest warmed at the sight.

“Hi baby,” he said, dumping the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink and sliding over to wrap his arms around Gale. Gale returned the cuddle and stuck his icy nose into Bucky’s neck, making Bucky yelp and ducked away. 

“Get warm by the fire,” he instructed, pulling away as Gale pouted and made grabby hands. “The chicken’s almost done anyway.”

Gale gave in and shuffled to the fireplace on the other side of the dining table, sitting on the hearth and burrowing deeper into the sweater. Bucky smiled at the sight as he carried the roasted chicken to the table, then went to fetch the cake he had picked up, quite proud of the selection if he said so himself.

“Here it is!” he said, placing it carefully on the table. It was one of those round, small-in-diameter-but-tall chocolate cakes with the rich thick icing that Gale loved but Bucky had to scrape off because it choked him with sweetness. “Don’t eat it all at once,” he instructed. “Even if it is your birthday.”

Gale raised his head with a tiny furrow in his brow. He looked at the cake, biting his lip, then glanced at Bucky. Bucky quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“It's your birthday.”

Gale turned to look at the calendar, and slowly, realization dawned on his face. A pang struck Bucky’s stomach.

“Did you forget?” he asked.

Gale shrugged, then nodded. “Yeah, not a big deal anymore.” He stood and approached the table, a sweet smile growing on his face. “The cake looks really good.”

“Of course it’s a big deal,” Bucky insisted. “Just because you’re not a kid doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate.”

“Not much then either. Parents were busy ya know? Holidays and all.” Gale’s voice carried a slight wistfulness, like the memories were bittersweet, and Bucky forced a smile on his face. 

“Well not anymore,” he declared. “It’s the best day of the year in this house, and chocolate cake is in order. I chose the little one because I figured we could eat it all at once because there’s nothing worse than days-old cake that’s dried out and–”

Warm arms engulfed him and Bucky’s arms instinctively returned the embrace. Gale squeezed him hard, rocking him back and forth a little.

“Thank you,” he murmured in Bucky’s ear. “You’re an angel, you know that?”

A lump of emotion tightened in Bucky’s throat. He drew one arm tighter around Gale’s waist and cupped the side of his head with the other, pressing kisses to his temple and sweet-smelling hair.

[three-dee-ess]

hiiii 3DS tour!!!!

from the day i first got it, i knew to name it Happiness..... nothing deep about it i just wanted to say "my mom took my Happiness away for exam week :("

a bit of a reveal but i'm the anxious sticker placer anon haha it's still plain to this day if not for a few scratches (a lot actually but it's not that noticeable, right? qwq)

the barcode and numbers are super faded i can't read them!! plus the scratches are much more noticeable, im not sure where most of them came from but i remember one of them is when i accidentally dropped a screwdriver on it oops

the cartridge is pokemon black 2!! i've had this game before Happiness. yup i have a metallic rose DS lite that's sooo busted up, (well i had a coral pink DS lite before that but i got mugged when i was like 7 years old and it's gone which is a story for another time)

anyway, metallic rose had dead pixels that spread like some fungus, L button didnt work at all, buttons feel gross to press now, etc yknow normal 7 year old not knowing the value of things thing

i'd send a picture but it's back at my old house, pray that the spiders know how to play dig dig dug

:D i'm very normal about cyrus pokemon i swear

if you check my theme plaza account you can see i also made one (1) batch of badges which is hunter x hunter badges as you can see from the folders, i'm also very normal about hunter x hunter i swear

i wanted to lay everything out without folders and arrange everything pretty but it's so hard how do all of you do it qwq

gon folder (top left folder) are my 3DS gaammeess, i haven't played some of them bc i still got a lot of games to finish but they're there!!

frens (i didnt make the badges other than the hunter x hunter ones btw!)

killua folder (top right folder) contains DS... well used to, now it holds other games! i also haven't played most of them im so busy qwq

i deleted the shortcuts for the DS games i finished, also it took me way too long how to inject GBA and other games into 3DS

kurapika folder (bottom left folder) contains videos and movies! i figured out how to convert them but it's so hard to find download links to the movies i like now :(

also did you know the first 3 volumes of hunter x hunter are on the japanese eshop? i can't read japanese but i keep them because i like the novelty of it

leorio folder (bottom right folder) is my homebrew and miscellaneous stuffs! self-explanatory -w-

if you have any homebrew stuffs you wanna recommend, tell meee

eek, asks only allows 10 pictures apparently so i'm gonna send another one because we're not done yet!!!!

Happiness is so awesome the crows wants an encore so i shall deliver ohoo

activity log :D i love that the 3DS has this so we can all look back on memories and such

and that's the day when i first got Happiness!!!! i was pretty late to the 3DS party but i stiiiillll love it if you couldn't tell i really love pokemon and that's why i wanted a 3DS so bad lol i don't think i will ever be as excited as i was holding Happiness in my hands for the first time qwq

yknow, i still don't know how this happened

and that's all from meee if you have any questions or wanna tell me something, go to my ask box because i don't wanna clog up three-dee-ess's notifs!! thank you for having me

----

galaxy style n3DSXL

thank you so much for the tour >:3c I loved reading through all of it! In depth tours like this are super interesting to me so thank you for sharing!! it makes me really happy.

I'll need to find my red 3DS again so I can share my own stats, since my grey one I use to mostly play puzzle game titles like picross, not any like, RPGs.

[the-himawari]

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [R] A New Use for a Crown (2/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: (What great weather! Let’s dry the laundry quickly.)

Masumi: I’ll help you, Director.

Izumi: Oh! Masumi-kun, thank yo—ah.

Masumi: …

Izumi: Whoops… I’ll give you 100 yen later.

Masumi: …Sure.

Izumi: In any case, switching the way you call someone is pretty hard… (Seeing Masumi-kun with a crown on is pretty refreshing though…)

-pause-

Masumi: Great job today, Director. I made tea, so have some.

Izumi: Ah, Masumi-kun…

Masumi: …

Izumi: Oops, I did it again… (I’m glad that he’s helping me out like this, but I can’t stop myself from calling him by his name.) (Plus there a penalty, so it kind of feels like I'm being subjected to the carrot and stick approach...)

Masumi: Sorry, Director. It’ll just be a little longer.

Izumi: O-Okay? (Just what in the world is he up to?)

-pause-

Izumi: (I still call him Masumi-kun a lot, but since then, I’ve gradually grown used to calling him “prince”). (Today, I’ll call him prince from the get-go…!)

Masumi: Director.

Izumi: (And here's my chance!) Good morning, prince.

Masumi: …! Good morning, my princess.

Izumi: (I got a response I didn’t expect. W-Welp, I’m feeling kinda embarrassed…)

Masumi: Today marks a week passing, so you don’t have to call me prince anymore.

Izumi: Oh right, you’re not wearing the crown right now… (Urgh… now I feel even more embarrassed.)

Masumi: …But I got to hear a nice line to finish it off. By the way, I’m sorry for imposing a penalty on you.

Izumi: Don’t worry about it… what was the thing that you wanted to do though?

Masumi: Wait in the lounge for me.

-pause-

Izumi: (I was so busy these last few days, but it looks like I’ll be able to relax today.)

Azami: Oh, your skin's lookin’ brighter now.

Izumi: Azami-kun. Maybe the face masks you gave me the other day were effective! Not to mention Masumi-kun also helped me out a ton.

Azami: I see, that’s nice.

*door opens*

Masumi: I’m back.

Izumi: Welcome back, Masumi-kun.

Azami: Hm? Is that bag full of ice cream?

Masumi: I bought them because I want Director to eat them.

Izumi: Gudiva, Baagen Dazs, and Madam Borden*—all of the ice creams are expensive, seasonal flavours…!

Masumi: You seemed really busy lately, so I wanted to give you something that would cheer you up. You probably would’ve liked curry, but it’s hot out right now.

Izumi: I can’t believe you were thinking of that… Thank you, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: Here’s your money back too.

Izumi: Huh?

Masumi: I wanted to give you something that covered your penalty fee, so I just used it as reference for the amount I should buy.

Azami: I see. It was like a surprise then. Nice goin’.

Izumi: Yeah, I’m really happy. Thank you so much.

Masumi: You’re very welcome.

Izumi: Alright, I suppose I’ll have one right away then.

Masumi: They're all yours, so you’re on break until you finish every last one of them. Stay here.

Izumi: Wait, what!

Azami: He went from 0 to 100 real fast… Anyways, eatin’ too much isn’t good either, y’know?

Masumi: But there’s guys who will take them if we leave them in the freezer.

Azami: True. There might be some people who’ll eat ‘em without checkin’ whose they are first.

Izumi: In that case, can we at least eat them together? We can scoop out all the different flavours onto a plate.

Masumi: Sure.

Izumi: Even then, it might be too much to finish… (I’m on break until I finish eating this ice cream… if that’s the case.) Say, Masumi-kun. If you don’t mind, why don’t we make it “ice cream time” together until we finish eating everything?

Masumi: Ice cream time?

Izumi: Like Azami-kun said, I don’t think eating too much is a good idea either. So let’s make some time everyday to eat this ice cream as a break. And for that, let’s put them in a bag with our names written on it and place it in the back of the freezer so it won’t get swiped.

Azami: I see. I agree no one’s gonna overlook the bag. And it’ll be fine if you just get through ‘em little by little each day.

Izumi: Even so, I think it’s going to take quite a while to finish them all. Masumi-kun, if you happen to have some time as well, then why don’t we eat them together?

Masumi: That sounds good. Just call me, and I’ll come over right away every day.

Izumi: Fufu. Alright, then we’ll make today the first day.

Masumi: Once we run out of ice cream, I’ll go buy more. I can do ice cream time with you every single day.

Azami: Err, there’s somethin’ called a limit, y’know?

Izumi: Ahaha…

---

*Parodies on the brands Godiva, Haagen Dazs, and Lady Borden.

previous |

[may-bee-its-just-me]

personal life update

Hey yall, i figured i'd take some time to give a personal life update as well as allow myself to vent for a second. I'll start with the positives for those not interested in the emotional bits :]

I've been making more substantial steps towards buying a car! I've been looking into this one Saturn, and while it's got a few minor issues, it's still my best option so far. Hoping to buy it for 2000, or 2500-3000 if the seller is willing to continue fixing the current known issues.

I've also been growing a bit closer to God, and I've been finding peace among the chaos. I'm learning to lean on Him for support - which has been an uphill battle against myself and the feeling I need to cling onto what i can control, but when i have been able to let go it's been very freeing. I'm still working on myself and growing in Christ, but progress is progress.

I recently got promoted to Crew trainer (about a month or two ago). I'm now making 75 cents more an hour than I did this time last year, after two biannual performance reviews and a promotion. I heard rumors that I'd been in consideration for a management position but I havent been talked to about it specifically, and I'm not sure if I'd accept if offered it. Still flattering to know though :]

Apparently more than once, customers have spoken to my managers and possibly even some higher ups praising my work ethic. I think its specifically when working on front counter/in lobby, as I'm most actively engaging with customers then and they can see me compulsively scanning over lobby for trash when im otherwise not busy. Regardless, it's nice to know I'm making a genuine positive impact on customers' experiences and potentially the rest of their days. Today, one such pair of customers is an older couple known for being very particular, occasionally rude/difficult to serve. They had already called our regional manager that day to complain before I was moved up front, saw them, and said hi. Later on one of my managers came up to me and had mentioned they liked me, and I assume said something to them about it. :]

On the flip side, i've been in a depressive funk for several months now. I'm actually questioning if it's a depressive funk, or if I'm always depressed and sometimes it's just...not as bad. But the last few weeks have been worse. I'm struggling to take care of myself, and while it's not as bad as it has gotten before - I went three days without showering this week and lately i've been routinely skipping showers after maintaining showering almost daily for a year.

For the last few weeks I keep going back and forth between losing my appetite, and eating myself into feeling sick. I'm pretty sure this is from grief and will pass though.

My boyfriend broke up with me 3 weeks/almost a month ago. For reasons, although there wasn't any real conflict between us during the relationship, it was more internal conflict and convictions. We'd been getting distracted with each other, putting off other things to spend time with each other. He needed to focus on his health and figuring his life out. Part of me still wants to cling onto hope he'll come back around, wants to go back and fight back against his reasons for leaving, because I damn know he still cares about me more than friends. But I'm trying to just trust that if we're meant to be, God will bring us together again naturally when we're ready for it. Trying to focus on getting my shit together on my end, and let Him figure the rest out. We're still friends, and through the relationship we were always friends above all else, so I'm thankful to still just have him in my life. I'll be okay, but the grief does eat away at me sometimes. I thought I had been recovering from it pretty well, but that was suppression (oops). I keep going back and forth from feeling okay about it, and feeling like a piece of me is missing. I even get mad at him from time to time, blaming him for my hurt feelings. "You promised forever" "you actively encouraged me to open up and lean on you, encouraged me to share my burdens with you, and now im supposed to just be okay with that ripped away" and then i see him, and i remember its not his fault, and he's always had my best interest in mind. Even in breaking up with me, he was doing out of the place of wanting what was best for both of us, and thought I deserved someone who already had everything together and wasnt a mess in himself. I know he genuinely meant every word he said in the moment, because i saw him. I saw it in his eyes. I saw it in his actions. I found the card he gave me for my birthday, and it made me cry, because it hurts my heart to think he's breaking both of our hearts needlessly. But everything happens for a reason, and so I'm trying to just...go with the flow of wherever this season of my life takes me. It hurts to think of either of us moving on with someone else, but whatever happens happens. I have so much love to give, and it's a challenge to find somewhere in the tangible physical realm to put it.

Silver lining, he said I can keep the shirt and hoodie he had let me borrow before. I've been wearing his hoodie everywhere...The only thing stopping me from still carrying my promise ring around is the sensory issues that caused me to stop wearing it to work in the first place.

The few coworkers I've told are convinced we're going to get back together soon, but again, trying to trust God and not my own hopes and dreams lol At the very least, no one can gossip about the break up because they can still see us laughing and getting along fine at work. A different couple had briefly broken up, and the amount of gossip that was floating around was awful - everyone talking trash about either person involved because there was a lot of friction between them. I'm just glad that wont be the case for us, and if we don't reunite anytime soon, at least we can still function at work more or less normally.

thats all tonight folks. Thanks for reading, God bless.

-Mod Bee🐝