#with that… i’m getting some tea and going to bed

[clockwayswrites]

A Bird's Wings - Part 30

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

Danny’s first thought when he woke up in the morning was how rested he was.

It was almost shocking.

He’d been so exhausted for for the past few weeks that to feel rested was a relief that almost made him cry.

Danny’s second thought was about his wings, which he still seemed to have. That was a pretty quick revelation caused by the fact that he was asleep on his stomach. The wings pulled at the sheets as he stretched lazily. At least they hurt less than yesterday at least. He was careful as he sat up, a cumbersome affair with the wings. It basically resulted in Danny getting his legs off the side of the large bed and simply standing up backwards, but at least it did result in him standing.

Grateful for Alfred’s thoroughness, Danny brushed his teeth before taking an awkward shower. He kept to the shower wand only and tried to keep as much water off his wings as possible. Despite the care, he still felt (and looked) like a rain ruffled bird after he had dressed in the modified sweater and a pair of his normal pants. He did what he could to at least tame his hair, swallowed his morning medication, and left the sanctuary of his borrowed room.

“Master Danny, impeccable timing,” Alfred said when Danny came across him in what Danny thought was the foyer. “Breakfast will be served in half an hour in the kitchen. Would you like some coffee or tea to start your day?”

“Coffee would be great, if it’s not any trouble,” Danny said with a bashful smile. He still wasn’t quite sure how to handle Alfred’s uncanny ability to show up and offer his service.

“A standard request of coffee is hardly trouble,” Alfred said in such a way that Danny felt bad for trying to be polite.

He didn’t think that his Midwest manners were going to get him very far in this house. Manor.

Still trying to puzzle out how his life got him into things like this, Danny followed Alfred to the kitchen. Bruce was already there, looking still half a sleep as he sipped on his own mug of coffee. For the moment, the table was children free.

“Cream or sugar?” Alfred ask as he headed towards the counter.

“Cream please,” Danny said. He turned to Bruce and gave a little smile. “Morning, Bruce.”

“Good morning, Danny,” Bruce said, his voice a low, sleepy rumble. (Danny did his best to fight the blush that the tone caused.) “Would you like some help drying off your wings?”

So much for not blushing. “Ah, yeah. That would be really nice. I tried to do what I could, but…”

Bruce chuckled softly. “Completely understandable. It’s a very awkward angle to try and manage.” He set down his mug and stood. “Fortunately for you, Damian is quite the animal buff and I was sent some very extensive articles on caring for wings.”

“Oh gods,” Danny said. The words were muffled by the way he buried his burning face into his hands.

“Damian simply wants the best for you,” Bruce pointed out.

“Sure, but still,” Danny said. He rubbed at his face as he let himself lean his head back and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, “I’m not a pet.”

Danny saw Bruce come over out the corner of his eye, towel in hand, and rolled his head a little to glance at him. He thought it was progress that he didn’t flinch when Bruce reached out, clearly telegraphing his motion, to run a hand over Danny’s wing.

“No one thinks that you’re a pet, Danny,” Bruce said with so much sincerity in his eyes that Danny had to look away. “Knowing how to take care of your wings is the same as making sure that Damian has easy access to vegetarian meals or that the computers at the manor have a dyslexic friendly font installed for Dick or that Barbara can easily get around in her wheelchair. Your wings, even if only sometimes, are part of you. And for better or worse, my family and I seem rather intent to see you well.”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck as he glanced back at Bruce. “Part of it may be that I’m not exactly used to that sort of attention. I mean, Lucius tries to make me take care of myself, as well as some coworkers, but in Gotham that sort of feels more like new rogue prevention,” Danny joked.

Luckily Bruce chuckled at that. “I am sorry that we’re so overwhelming.”

“No, don’t be. It’s… excuse the bird analogy, but it’s just a very full nest, isn’t it? It feels cozy. It’s just something different to try and wrap my head around,” Danny explained. “And I won’t pretend that I don’t still have issues, as much as it’s something that I’ve worked really hard on personally and in therapy, dying at fourteen leaves a person with some issues.”

Not to mention being a super hero, staying half dead, dying a second time, and all of the other things that went on during his high school years.

“Yes, I would imagine so,” Bruce said after a pause. His voice was soft and sad.

“Bruce—”

“Sorry,” Bruce said. “When Jason was fifteen, we thought he had died. He ended up out of reach and with extensive brain trauma and memory loss. I know how much it effected him. I’m sorry you had to go through something at that age also.”

Danny squeezed one of Bruce’s hands where it was clasped tightly around a towel. “He’s here now. He’s alive and he seems happy. He has a boyfriend and everything. I’m not saying it doesn’t still pull at him, but it hasn’t dragged him to the bottom. At least not anymore.”

Bruce smile was a somber, soft thing. “Thank you. And you’re here too.”

Danny blinked at that. Bruce wasn’t wrong. He didn’t know almost any of the story, but he wasn’t wrong. Wings and all, Danny was still alive. He smiled softly back. “Yeah, I am.”

[crushmeeren]

༝ ᭝ ༝ ARRANGED MARRIAGE AU — PART TWO ༝ ᭝ ༝

⤷ ⋆ ft. itachi uchiha ⋆

⋆ note ; here is part two! this part is centered around the first time reader has sex with itachi (it’s mediocre, but 100% consensual) — which you can totally skip, a fluffy moment or two between pregnant reader and itachi, some reader and sasuke friendship, plus itachi’s perspective and an important convo with shisui!

⋆ note x 2 ; as always, credit for this idea goes to @majesticflyingwalrus !

‣ ‣ ‣ master list ‣ ‣ ‣ PART ONE

Is sex supposed to be this dull?

Surely not.

Within your clan’s compound you recall sex often being spoken highly of. Giggles and hushed whispers surrounding a forbidden pleasure chased after by so many of the young men and woman living there. Even the ones you’d considered close friends.

It seems your hopes had been aimed too high. Or perhaps that’s too pessimistic. Maybe sex will improve, this is, after all, only the first time you’ve given yourself to Itachi.

Little foreplay was involved as you stripped bare and laid down on the bed. A few brief kisses in the beginning, Itachi’s mouth tasting of the matcha tea he’d drank before. Lips pressed along the line of your throat once or twice, coaxing your lower belly to burn, but it hadn’t progressed much past that. Itachi stroked himself to full hardness before you could get your hand on his cock, assuring you he preferred to do it.

That stung.

In the present, cool cotton sheets bunch up in your curled fingers, thighs spread open wide by Itachi’s palms. The push and pull of his cock stretches your pussy better than your fingers ever could, prickles of pleasure gathering in your pelvis, tickling the base of your spine.

But the atmosphere holds an awkward edge to it. Besides the occasional flickers of heat, the tension is all consuming.

Itachi downright refuses to look you in the eyes. Each time you lift your chin to peak at his face his gaze darts to the side, biting the tip of his tongue in what appears to be concentration. Or discomfort.

It’s hard to read your husband.

There’s no sweet words directed your way. No real passion in the way Itachi moves, thrusts remaining at a steady pace the entire time, somewhat robotic.

You give up trying to catch his eye, redirecting your attention to his stomach. The lean muscles flex and roll under the strain of his hips. It’s surprising how erotic the view is, catching you off guard, and hot desire forces your pussy to clench tight around Itachi. His breath hitches and a low moan spills out. You look up in time to watch his mouth part and a pink tongue dart out to lick across his upper lip.

“Itachi,” you breathe, his pleasure spurring on your own. You lock eyes and his lids are halfway shut, brows pinching together.

His pace slows. “Is everything alright? Have I hurt you?” His voice is rougher than usual.

“No.” You shake your head. “I just..” you trail off, unsure whether to spill your guts about how hot he sounded a moment ago. You opt to keep silent, refusing to make him uncomfortable with your desire. With the tension he’s been carrying since the start, it’s obvious he wants this to be over with as quick as possible. “It’s nothing, keep going.”

He doesn’t thrust any faster, considering your words. “Are you being honest with me?”

The question surprises you. “I’m being honest. Please Itachi, I don’t want you to stop.”

Itachi continues to see straight through you, like you’re made of glass.

“Okay,” he relents, tone conveying how little he believes you. “I’ll be swift, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable any longer.” It feels like an apology as one of his hands comes up to cradle the side of your face. You push into the touch, eager for a shred of his affection.

His palm is warm, and the lump in your throat is difficult to swallow, eyes squeezed shut in the face of his words. You’re the furthest thing from uncomfortable. You’re happy to get the chance to connect with him so intimately. His dick is incredible, and you wish he’d explore more with you to find what made you both dizzy with lust.

But he doesn’t want that.

Itachi is a gentleman through and through. After it’s over, he stays behind to help you relax. He brings back a warm wash cloth and draws you a bath, aware that you’d be sore after having sex for the first time. He guides you by the hand, allowing you to use him as leverage to step into the bath and sink into the water.

“I put some of my salts in the bath. It helps with soreness,” he explains, fingers untangling from yours as you find a comfortable position and sigh in relief.

You stare up at him, a grateful smile on your face. “Thank you, Itachi.” You chew on your bottom lip, heart skipping a beat as you consider your next question. “Would you care to join me?”

Itachi’s answering smile is so sweet it’s unfair, eyes soft and longing. “Perhaps another time, I’ve got some business to attend to.”

You choose to focus on the water, fingertips breaking the surface and diving below. You don’t want him to see your disappointment. “I understand. Another time, then.”

Itachi lingers but you refuse to look at him. His apologetic demeanor will just make it worse. He leaves things unsaid between you, and the pit in your stomach threatens to weigh you down until you’re dragged below the surface.

Things…change after you find out you’re pregnant. Not for worse, for the better, and it surprises the hell out of you. Itachi, who you assumed would keep his lukewarm attitude, becomes more intertwined in your life. Carrying out small gestures to show he cares and pays attention to your needs.

During the second trimester is when the worst of your cravings hit.

The little Uchiha baby in your belly is now the size of an avocado, the obvious bump making it known you’re carrying Itachi’s heir. She’s growing bigger by the day and you’re sure it’s her fault your sweet tooth is aching, begging for sugary treats.

Well, to be fair, you’re unable to prove she’s a she at this point, as Itachi has pointed out several times, but intuition promises otherwise.

Either way, full fledged dreams of warm, chewy chocolate chip cookies have plagued you all week. It’s driving you up the wall, and today not a single thing will get in the way of baking the perfect batch.

You’d ruined them the previous couple times, flour scattered all over the counters as if a tornado swept through. First, it was the wrong type of butter, then you set the timer wrong and they were a bit overbaked. Simple mistakes, but they change the entire outcome of the cookie. Itachi found you after the second time standing at the island, tears falling all over the ruined sweets.

Third times the charm, though.

The sound of soft slippers meeting hard wood fills the otherwise empty hallway, your palm lifting to rest at the top of your belly. Your hand follows the curve of it, ending at the underside as you journey slowly towards the kitchen.

Rounding the last corner, stepping into the kitchen with intention, you halt mid step when you notice you’re not alone. The outline of Itachi’s back greets you, long hair tied into a braid, flowing like a waterfall down to his waist. He’s standing at the counter fiddling with something you’re unable to see.

“So, you’ve escaped clan business for the afternoon?”

“Oh!” Itachi startles, jumping about a foot in the air. He whips around to face you, a mixing bowl cradled tight to his chest with one arm. “Goodness, you scared me!” Itachi places his free hand over his chest, settling his racing heart. “Yes, I’ve managed to excuse myself for the rest of the day,” he answers, glaring half heartedly.

You take a few steps closer, lips lifting in amusement. “That’s great, but what brings you to the kitchen?” You nod towards the mixing bowl in question. “It’s not often I find you here.”

His eyes flicker between you and the bowl. “I thought I’d attempt to bake cookies,” he explains, somewhat sheepish. “For you.”

Your eyebrows raise, cheeks heating up. “For me?”

Itachi nods, shifting to set the mixing bowl on the counter. “For you. For our baby,” he confirms. His expression is warm and words stick to the inside of your throat. “After the last time I’m convinced you’re in desperate need of my help.”

You ignore the insult to your baking skills, becoming a whirlwind of emotions as your eyes sting with oncoming tears. “Itachi!” You cry, surging forward to wind your arms around his waist, baby bump keeping you from fully connecting. “That’s so sweet!”

Your husband chuckles and hugs you in return, rubbing your upper back as he does. “I’m happy to do this for you. You’re growing our baby, you deserve to be waited on hand and foot.”

Itachi’s words continue to be confusing. They’re so sincere, so meaningful, and sometimes you convince yourself they’re could be more than friendship in your marriage. The threat of rejection, however, of crumbling your new life, squeezes your heart, and you stay silent instead of asking for more.

A moment passes before Itachi unravels from the hug, holding your shoulders and pushing you backwards, promising this time the cookies will be perfect.

And they are.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Fall has arrived in full force. With it comes gloomy skies, shorter days, and a sharp chill that bites at your cheeks and fingertips. Your hesitation to go on daily walks grows more powerful by the hour. Being six months pregnant takes it’s toll on your lower back and feet. The cold makes it a hundred times worse.

Sasuke’s been too busy to join you as of late. Itachi may be head of the clan but Sasuke is still saddled with his fair share of duties. So you’ve been going alone. The scenery is still beautiful, leaves coloring to burnt oranges and rustic reds — it’s just much more boring without your friend’s occasional commentary and snide remarks. Or the gossip he fills you in on.

Dusk is approaching within the next hour or so, and you’ve resigned yourself to the fact it’s better overall for your health and the baby’s if you don’t skip out on walking.

One more layer should suffice to fight off the chill, so you slip on an extra long sleeve underneath, finishing the outfit by zipping up a thick fluffy coat and adjusting a scarf around your neck.

The door slides shut behind you, feet guiding you in the direction of the well worn path you wander each day. Shivering, you stuff your hands in your pockets, taking only a handful of steps before a familiar voice calls out your name. Your head perks up, twisting left to see Itachi striding your way. His hair is windswept, a few strands whipping in front of his face, cheeks rosy from the cold.

He looks oh so handsome.

“Where are you off to?” Itachi asks when he gets close. The sweet smile he wears gives you the sensation that the clouds have parted and warm sun now shines on your face.

“I was just about to go for my walk.”

He hums, unable to hide the slight bitterness to his tone when he asks, “Without Sasuke?”

You laugh, amused, and nod. “Yes, he’s quite busy today.”

“I see.” He pauses. “Well, would you be opposed if I accompanied you and our baby girl instead? I am not fond of the idea of you two going alone,” he says, serious and steady.

“We’d love for you to join us.” It’s a conscious effort to speak through the butterflies in your belly. You turn and begin walking once more, Itachi falling in step beside you. “Besides, I believe Mio has missed you today, she settled down as soon as she heard your voice.”

“Just Mio? Nobody else?” Itachi teases, arm swaying with his footsteps, hand bumping against yours. Your heart thumps in your throat.

Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you will your cheeks not to flush. “Maybe I have too,” you say softly, the koi pond you and Sasuke visit often coming into view.

“I’ve missed you both,” he admits. Itachi’s hand keeps touching yours, and the urge to lace your fingers together is so strong it aches.

So you change the subject. “Do you mind if we sit for a moment? My back is starting to hurt.” You gesture towards the bench near the pond, altering your pathway.

“Of course. Do we need to return home? Are you able to continue walking?” Itachi arrives at the bench first, rounding it and waiting to offer you an arm to sit you down with ease.

“No, no I’m alright, Itachi,” you reassure, leaning back with a sigh. “I appreciate your concern. She just seems to grow bigger by the day and continuously play kickball against my ribs.”

Itachi laughs, sitting down beside you. He leaves enough space between you to be courteous. You wish he’d get closer, help you fight off the chilly wind.

There’s idle chatter detailing your days, Itachi asking what he needs to do next to help get Mio’s room ready. You get caught up on boring clan business. Spending any sort of quality time with Itachi, listening to the smooth, low cadence of his voice, drains the tension from your shoulders and fills you with light.

Too soon you rise from the bench to finish your walk, the sunset bleeding into the sky.

The silence on the way home is comforting. You’re able to enjoy Itachi’s presence next to you with no interruptions. His hand, as if it never ceased, continues its pattern of knocking into yours. As you’re about to shove your hand in your pocket to stop the torture he breaks the quiet.

“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, but I cannot stop myself from wanting to hold your hand. Is that alright?”

When you look at him he’s already staring, undivided attention settled entirely on you, and it sends a shock down your spine. “I — yes. You don’t have to ask, I’d never be uncomfortable with that.”

Itachi hits you with another warm grin and your insides melt under the pressure. Slender fingers lace through yours, gently squeezing, and you wonder if Itachi notices the heavy beat of your heart through your fingers.

Conversation flows between you once more on the way home, and it’s not until later that evening you realize holding Itachi’s hand had chased off the bitter chill of the wind. You hadn’t felt cold at all.

“Your brother drives me crazy.”

You sit down next to Sasuke with a huff, couch creaking as Mio squirms in your arms. She reaches her tiny, chubby arms out for her uncle the moment she sees him, cooing in delight.

Sasuke snorts, sparing you a glance as he accepts the seven month old baby with ease. “My brother drives me crazy.” The smile on his face is genuine, eyes soft and happy as he says something unintelligible to his niece. “What did the princess do this time?” He doesn’t look at you while he speaks, distracted by Mio smacking his cheek.

For a moment all you can do is rub your eyes with the heels of your palms and sigh. You lower them to your lap, scanning the living room and all the baby toys scattered about, just begging to be tripped on.

You shift your gaze back to the adorable sight of your daughter and Sasuke. “Does Itachi love me?”

“Yes,” Sauske answers, tone suggesting you’re an idiot for thinking otherwise.

You frown and shove his shoulder. “Don’t say it like I’m stupid. I know Itachi loves me, but I’m asking if he’s in love with me.”

Sasuke’s shoulders tense up, eyeing you from his peripheral. “Are you in love with him?” He fires back. Mio leans forward and rests her face in the crook of his neck, chunky little fingers fisting his shirt as her eyes start to slip shut. She missed her afternoon nap.

“Sasuke!” You throw your hands up in the air. “You already know I am! Why won’t you just tell me the truth?”

“How should I know? I’m not Itachi’s keeper.”

“You’re his little brother.”

“Way to point out the fuckin’ obvious.”

You let out a frustrated noise and relent trying to squeeze the answer from him. He does this every time. Instead, you rest your temple on his shoulder, head heavy with sudden fatigue. Mio sleeps soundly on Sasuke’s chest.

“Whatever, don’t tell me.”

Sasuke sighs as if this the most irritating conversation he’s ever had the misfortune of being apart of. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I can’t just ask him,” you whine. “It’s so difficult to read him. His actions confuse me. Sometimes I swear he feels the same. Other times it’s as if we’ll never go further than friends, cursed to live as roommates.”

“Wow, you can’t read the queen of neutrality’s thoughts? I’m shocked. Truly.” Sasuke’s rolling his eyes, you’re sure of it.

“Remind me why we’re friends?”

A soft knock on the frame of the living room draws your attention, cutting off any snarky answer Sasuke could have replied with.

“Am I interrupting something?” Itachi asks, raising an eyebrow when you meet his sour gaze. He crosses his arms over his chest.

You lift your head off Sasuke’s shoulder with a yawn, shaking your head. “No,” you answer, pulling a leg up underneath you. “Sasuke’s being a dick, and Mio’s napping on said jerk’s chest because she missed her’s earlier.”

Itachi’s features smooth out, a hint of a teasing smile on his lips. “So everything is as usual then?”

“Hey!” Sasuke protests, loudly, and Mio stirs in his arms.

“Sasuke,” Itachi scolds, shooting him a stern look that he’s only putting on to get a rise out of his little brother. “Don’t wake my daughter, please.”

You join Itachi in picking on Sasuke. “Yeah Sasuke, quit being so loud. Haven’t you ever heard of an inside voice? You may be Mio’s favorite uncle now but you won’t be if you wake her up from her nap.”

Sasuke grinds his teeth together. He supports Mio’s bottom with one arm, hugs her tight to his chest with the other, and stands up. “Fuck off, I’m her only uncle. I’m taking your daughter and never coming back,” he threatens, striding forward and glaring at his brother as he passes him by.

You and Itachi share a grin. “Bring her back before her bedtime please!” Itachi calls out over his shoulder, the front door slamming shut after Sasuke. His pathetic threat is just an excuse to take Mio on a walk and show her the flowers once she wakes up, visit his Mother, and then return her before bedtime. It’s become a pattern.

Itachi steps closer and offers you a hand. You accept, letting him pull you to your feet. “Now that the little demon is occupied, interested in making dinner with me?” You start heading to the kitchen.

Itachi trails behind you. “Sasuke or Mio? They both share a demonic energy.”

You laugh, smiling at him over your shoulder. “I can’t argue with that. Although, I think Mio gets it from him.”

“I’m afraid you’re right.”

Itachi ends up cooking something while you watch. He told you he had a new recipe he wanted to try out and he looked so excited you couldn’t refuse.

Sasuke returns Mio, a little bundle of energy, back to you about an hour later.

Your husband joins you in giving her a bath and reading to her until she’s down for the night. Then the two of you linger in her doorway, your least favorite part of the evening upon you. The part that’s just past awkward as you trade goodnight’s with Itachi and retreat to separate bedrooms.

One day, you hope, Itachi will join you in your bed instead of leaving you to sleep alone.

It’s late in the afternoon on Mio’s first birthday when Shisui finds Itachi sulking.

The party is long over, sun shining bright in a blue, cloudless sky, and Itachi sits on the edge of his porch, feet tucked underneath himself. He watches his baby girl play with you and his little brother in the yard, careless and free. Mio squeals with laughter when a butterfly touches her hand, filling Itachi’s chest with affection.

Itachi notices Sasuke say something to you, making your head tilt back with a laugh. He’s out of earshot, unaware of what’s been said, but it brings a well known jealousy to the forefront. It’s become an old friend at this point.

Someone sits down beside Itachi with enough force that the wooden porch protests under them, a hand landing on his shoulder. Itachi holds in an exasperated sigh. He knows it’s Shisui without even looking.

“What’s with the kicked puppy expression? It’s unlike you to pout,” Shisui says, kicking his feet where they hang over the edge.

Itachi frowns and shakes Shisui’s hand from his shoulder. “That is not what I’m doing.”

“Okaayy,” he drags out the word. “So you’re jealous then, gotcha.” Shisui nods to himself.

Itachi’s eyebrow twitches. “Jealous of Sasuke? Why would I be jealous of my own little brother?”

Shisui snickers. “I didn’t even say his name, Itachi! And if you’re not, why are you staring at him with enough force to burn a hole into the side of his head?”

Itachi has no leg to stand on, caught red handed. “That’s, I’m not — I am not jealous of Sasuke, Shisui.”

“You’re lying Itachi. I know you too well, cousin,” Shisui teases, leaning in close to poke him in the cheek.

Itachi ignores the other man, staring without blinking as you stand up straight, Mio supported on your hip. You smile sweetly at him once he catches your gaze and his belly does flips. You whisper in your daughter’s ear and point at him. Mio grins, face lighting up, and reaches out for her daddy, oblivious to how far away he’s actually sitting.

Itachi’s breath catches, seeing the sun surround you with a warm glow, and he feels as though he’s never seen colors so vibrant and vivid before in his life. You hold the beauty of an Angel, and he’s so so lucky you’re his wife. The Mother of his child.

It doesn’t hit Itachi all at once. No, falling in love with you has crept up on Itachi over the past few years. Burrowing deep in his heart and growing like a well watered plant.

“Shisui,” he says softly, waiting for the other man to reply with a hum. “I’m in love with her.”

Shisui almost falls off the porch in shock. He knew Itachi was in love, he just never believed he’d confess to it out loud. “You haven’t been hiding that secret very well, cousin.” He bumps his shoulder playfully against Itachi’s. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What if it’s not reciprocated?”

Shisui’s laughter bursts from him. He holds his stomach and curls in half, creating such a spectacle that you and Sasuke look to them with concern. Itachi’s cheeks are surely flushed from embarrassment. He lifts one hand in a lame attempt to wave as Shisui sobers up.

You wave back, setting Mio in the ground. Sasuke holds one of her hands and you take the other, helping her walk across the grass to the porch. Itachi’s heart rate picks up, praying that Shisui doesn’t slip up and give him away.

As soon as you’re within reach Itachi slides off the porch and crouches down, arms open wide to accept Mio. She wiggles her hands free and reaches forward, closing the last tiny bit of distance with wobbly steps before falling into his chest. Itachi scoops her up with ease, rising to his full height.

“Hello my little cherry blossom,” he coos, resting his forehead on hers. She giggles and places her hands on his cheeks, squishy them together before she presses a kiss to his chin. Then Mio wraps her arms around his neck and pillows her cheek on his shoulder.

He loves her so much he could cry.

“She’s tired,” you comment, sending him warm smile. You place a hand on Itachi’s bicep and squeeze. “It’s been a long afternoon, I’m sure she’d benefit from a nap.”

“I could use a nap, I ate way too many sweets!” Shisui says, joining the small circle the four of you have formed.

“Like that’s a surprise,” Sasuke mumbles.

Shisui pouts. “Rude! Sasuke, you’re the one —,”

“Before this escalates further, I’m going to put Mio down for a nap,” Itachi cuts him off.

You crowd in close and kiss Mio on the forehead. “That’s a good idea, thank you. Sasuke is going to help me put away leftover food.” You grin at Itachi with mischief in your eye, grabbing Sasuke’s arm to tug him towards the sliding door, ignoring his complaints. Itachi laughs and watches with fondness as the two of you disappear inside.

“Don’t be so ignorant, Itachi.”

Itachi whips his head towards Shisui, eyebrows raised to his hairline. “Pardon me?”

Shisui rolls his eyes, tries to hold back a smile, but fails, and pats Itachi on the back. “I said, don’t be so ignorant. She loves you too, you’d be blind not to see it. You’ve been waiting all this time, struggling to come to terms with your feelings. Don’t you realize she’s been waiting just as long? Suffering just as long while you get your shit together?”

“I suppose the thought didn’t occur to me,” he answers lamely, shifting his weight and readjusting his grip on a sleeping one year old.

“Itachi I love you, but you’re so dense sometimes. Tell her the truth. You can spend the rest of your life making up for it.”

Itachi is unsure of what to say after that, leaving Shisui in the yard to retreat inside and put Mio down for her nap. Shisui’s right, and Itachi is overwhelmed with the urge to….to do something.

You‘ll be sharing a bed soon enough, he promises himself that.

what do we think?? part three will be the conclusion, so hope you all are excited as i am!

little taglist for all my peeps who commented on part one! if i did not tag you it’s because i could not verify that you were over 18 and this part has some 18+ stuff in it.

regardless, i want to thank everyone so much for your love and comments! (ˆ ̳ , ̫ , ̳ˆ)

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

| @biashellandflyashell | @misslovingpearl | @kurokawaia | @notgoodforlife | @lamplitesatnight | @mutsu422 | @melancholyshadow |

[shyamanuensis]

You Feel Like Home - Sebastian Sallow

My Love,

It has been almost a year since you requested this of me and up until tonight; I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to put quill to paper. When you asked me to tell you what it is exactly that you mean to me; I’ll be sincere, I struggled utterly with the concept of comprehending such a request.

My breadth of language and vernacular as much as you regularly try to deny it on my behalf doesn’t vary enough to even begin describing what you mean to me; but I can confidently say now that after a few tumblers of whiskey, that ridiculous love song you always like to play having been stuck on repeat and time, I suppose - to just think; I’ve concluded that you’re not just you to me, if that makes any sense. You. You feel like home to me.

But let me first start with a list of all the things I love about you. How I adore your insecurities as much as your complexities; and how each idiosyncrasy you define as peculiar, I find endearing. Maybe that will give some further context as to what exactly it is you mean to me;

I love the way you dance around the house without a care as if I’m not watching as you make breakfast first thing in the morning.

I love the way you chuckle when I tell a joke wrong and laugh hard enough to lose your breath when I try to repeat it to get it right.

I love the way you style your hair up once after reading how a character wears theirs in a book; and then become so intrigued in said book that it steals your attention long enough that you become completely immersed, barely aware that the tea you sip has long gone cold.

I love the way you’re so self-critical some days with what you see in the reflection of the bathroom mirror when regardless of what you think, you’ll be nothing but perfect to me.

I love the way you sigh when you’re struggling to fit into your jeans. That little wiggle and jump that you do before falling back onto the bed to shuffle around and get the fabric up over your hips.

I love that when I’m working away from home, you steal my shirts just to feel close to me when you lie in bed at night. They seem to hug you in all the right places, exquisitely enhancing your curves; making you appear even more beautiful than I already know you are.

I love the way you toy with my hair to put me to sleep; or better still, the way it makes the monster inside of me calm and go silent anytime I rest my head in your lap.

I love the way you call me safe when others call me dangerous.

I love the way you hold my hands ever so gently. How you rest your own against my chest as if to keep my heart safe knowing all too well it has been shattered more times before than I’ll ever happily let on.

I love the way you steal kisses from me in the most mediocre of places which make my heart pound against my ribs as though it wants to break free and be once with yours.

I love the way you’d let me set the whole world on fire just to sit back and watch it burn for fun if I wanted to, and how you’d trust me to never let a flame touch you.

I love your obsession with cinnamon after I asked you to try it once and how now that scent has me absolutely intoxicated with thoughts of you any time I pass it by.

I love the way that you, my love; my angel, can luckily for me, never have her eyes peeled away from the devil that sits beside her - not on her shoulder, for too long.

I love the way you smile up at me - arm wrapped firmly around my waist, always so eager to introduce me to anyone who asks as the man of your dreams. Although I'm not so sure I’m really qualified to be.

Just know this list isn’t anywhere near as comprehensive as the thoughts that run through my head, the feelings that flutter within my chest, and the warmth that consumes me whenever you are near. They say that a house without love is not a home, but I can assure you that wherever we are, whatever we do, with your hand in mine, any place we find ourselves, any adventure we take, any stroll beneath the stars at night makes me feel like I’m already home because you’re with me. Because you feel like and are - home to me.

Forever and a day my love,

Sebastian x

hope you enjoy my loves xoxo

[luiluvr]

college! luigi struck down by a cold during finals week and still trying to keep up with school, ta stuff, frat stuff etc and reader urging him to rest and take care of himself and practically forcing him onto the couch with tea <333

I LOVE THIS 😓😓❤️

WARNINGS: none! just affection and luigi being sick, mentions of Y/N

Luigi was always persistent in his work, he was incredibly dedicated and prompt with deadlines; especially in college. Only problem: he’s too dedicated. He would make sure his work is accomplished even if the world was ending.

So when a casual cold that everyone was inevitably getting during the winter semester, you found yourself trying to encourage him to take a break. The first day he had symptoms and felt under the weather: “I’m fine, it’s just a headache and runny nose. I’ll take something before bed and I’ll wake up feeling better.”

His words against yours you suppose.

Your classes were a lot earlier than his, so naturally you woke up way before him. You made yourself a to-go cup of coffee, gathered your bag and headed out. The two of you lived in different dorms; but they were across the hall from one another, which meant you saw each other all the time.

The day was normal, nothing of interest, you got through your morning class and a lengthy final, you were grateful to get it out of the way. You were on your way to a meeting with some other students about one of the support groups, there were usually two held during the day, you preferred attending the early one since there’s no classes during. On your way, you decided to drop in on Luigi, he was just barely waking up and getting around. Sluggishly. Very slowly.

You loved him but he looked like death. He stood at the small kitchen counter, a very.. yucky cough escapes his mouth. “You sound lovely.” You say as you set your bag down on a chair and watch him, he groans and mutters something inaudible. “I feel fantastic too.” He says back.

“So much for feeling better, hm?” You state a little cockily, he just glares at you. It’s funny but you also feel bad about it, his dark brown eyes are glossed over, his beard stubble was growing back on his jawline and chin; which he always hated and tried to maintain. His nose was getting red around the nostril where he would wipe and blow. Somehow, even in sickness the asshole managed to look cute. He just seemed laggy, not all there but also, too present. His ears hurt, they popped every time he drank from his water bottle. “Shut up.” He murmurs.

“You should stay here, get rest.” You say, tiptoeing to reach into a cupboard and get the box of elderberry tea out. It was nasty but it always helped when you were sick, so you bought some for Luigi. “Are you crazy? I can’t do that! I have finals all this week, plus a frat meeting Wednesday, which is really important, Y/N!” He was trying to be stern and get his words out quick, but he ended up just coughing excessively, rubbing his temple. Annoyed — almost.

“Jeez, Lu, I know this week is the worst to get sick during but you gotta focus on your health too, ya’know.” You say.

“I do know, but I already checked… I’m not running a fever so I’ll take a Tylenol later for my headache and some cough syrup before I leave. I have a two different exams today in calculus and algorithms, on top of that I’m the one planning the frat meeting, and quite frankly I haven’t really done much for it. I have no idea where it’s even going to be held this week.” He sighs and plops down on a chair.

“You’re overworking yourself, Lu. It’s catching up to you and now you’re sick.”

“It has nothing to do with it, sweetheart.” He says in that tone — you sigh, “I’m not gonna force you, but you need to rest. I’m fine with helping you plan whatever it is you need help with. However, I’m sure the other fraternity members would understand you needing to cancel and reschedule. It’s going all around, even a few of my professors had to cancel classes for the week.” Of course, he was stubborn and did it his way. Men never listen.

You went on to attend your last couple of classes and take the finals, Luigi forced himself to go Monday and Tuesday. Some of his friends came up and told you about his stubbornness in classes when the professor confronted him about not feeling well. As a teacher’s assistant, he resisted and insisted he was fine. Obviously everyone else didn’t think so because he had to sit away from other students as to not spread the bug.

As the week progressed he became more loopy, while you checked in on him daily, you finally decided to put your foot down. “Luigi Nicholas Mangione, you are staying in this dorm and you are resting. I don’t care if I have to strap you to that bed, I already canceled the fraternity meeting, a few of the members are sick as well and your professors are willing to reschedule a day for you to take the finals.”

He sat there, listening to you, his legs hung over the edge of his bed, looking more pale, his red nose had worsened and he trembled from being cold yet simultaneously overheated. His room was unusually messy, his clothes he’d worn the past few days was tossed around, he slept shirtless and there was an attempt to get tissue in the trashcan, but he wasn’t a basketball player. They were scattered lazily.

“But it’s only two finals, I don’t have any tomorrow or Friday,” He starts but you cut him off. “No, Luigi. I’m serious-” He pushes by you. “I’m fine, I just need to take my medicine for the morning.” You roll your eyes, following him into the other part of the dorm.

“Sit down.” You say firmly, you never use a really stern or somewhat harsh tone with him. You don’t like it. He glances at you as he stands awkwardly, shifting his tall figure. “But…”

“No, you heard me. Sit on the couch.”

He grumbles and finally sits on the small gray-colored couch, folding his arms like a toddler. You heat up water in a coffee maker and get the elderberry baggies for the tea he clearly hasn’t been drinking.

He’s been achy from doing so much, his body was tired. His back had been sore for a couple of weeks now and this cold didn’t help. You give him a blanket and bring him his laptop to watch TV on, then you set the mug on a coaster atop an inn table beside him. He feels a little defeated but he can’t deny he likes being tended to. Especially by you.

“There. Not so bad is it?” You question and he looks up at you innocently. What a stupid pretty boy. “Well, I’m not entirely against you taking care of me.” He flutters his long lashes. You chuckle and gently sit across from him. At this point in the relationship, you two never cared if the other was sick, he would lay with you, kiss you and care for you every time you were sick; even if it wasn’t solely an immune system sickness.

You pull him over into your embrace, he lays his head on your chest. His muscular arm tucks around you, making sure to pull up and share the throw blanket. He smiles and gazes up to you.

It’s cute seeing him with his beard growing out and rosy cheeks. Although you could do without the snotty and congested part; his feverish body kept you warm. You return with a cheeky grin and gently place a little kiss on his chapped lips. “You need some chapstick, Lu.” You murmured against them.

“I know. I lost the one I had.”

“How? You just bought it a couple weeks ago.”

“I don’t keep track of everything.”

You shake your head, tracing little patterns across his back with your fingertip. He leans over for a minute, sort of sitting up and lifts the mug with tea to take a big sip. His face contorts, you knew how funny elderberry tasted. It wasn’t the best. You laugh at his reaction, “That’s…disgusting.” He says quietly, “Yeah, but it helps.” He nodded, “Thanks for.. Helping me.” He lays his head down, burying his face in your chest once more.

“That’s what I’m here for. Next time you should really listen and rest.” He tilts his head back and itches his neck, “Yeah, yeah… You’re right. As always.”

“Don’t say it like that!” You say, eliciting laughter out of you both, before you let out a hefty sneeze. “Bless you.” Luigi says, reaching up to brush hair from your head. His thumb traces down your cheek; you sneezed again, this time it inflicted an immediate headache. Great.

He knew the inevitable had caught you too. You give him an unamused look, Luigi grins and stares back up at you.

“Welcome to the club, sweetheart.”

[madbard]

I can’t stop thinking about a TMA fic idea where, instead of going Somewhere Else at the end of the series, Martin wakes up back in the safe house the morning the world ended.

Jon doesn’t remember anything. Neither, it seems, does anyone else. Martin checks the statements they’ve received and finds Elias’ message in the top file, exactly where he had expected it. In classic Martin fashion, he promptly commits arson and discards of the ashes. If none of this feels quite real, then at least it is a pleasant dream. It’s been so long since he’s dreamed like this.

Martin and Jon have a lovely, quiet day. They walk over to see the cows. They eat together, and Martin prepares tea. Jon knows something is wrong, but Martin brushes it off, blaming his strange mood on nightmares. It’s been a rough few years, and even rougher few months. If Martin seems a bit… off, well, it only makes sense.

Moreover, something in Jon doesn’t want to know what Martin is hiding. Something in him so deeply yearns to keep its eyes shut.

That night, they go to sleep, side by side. Jon lies across from Martin, relatively human and relatively happy and, most importantly, alive. Martin falls asleep tracing the scars on his hands.

The next morning begins like any in the safe house. Martin wakes up and wanders over to the kitchen to make some tea, while Jon follows him, still fighting off sleep. The morning light through the windows sets everything aglow and as Martin opens up the cupboard, he couldn’t be happier… until his hand brushes empty air.

“… Jon?”

“Hm?”

“Where’s the tea we bought yesterday?” At this point he knows. But he has to be sure. And when Jon looks up at him, confused, and tells him that they ran out yesterday and certainly didn’t purchase any more, that they were planning to buy some today, Martin felt that truth solidify in his stomach like a stone.

Jon sees the change in Martin’s expression and this time he almost asks - but that same part of him that covered his eyes earlier now rears up and nearly chokes him. He doesn’t want to know.

“Martin? What-”

Martin doesn’t give him the chance to finish. In seconds, he’s out the door, crumpling Elias’ message as he walks.

That day is quiet and difficult, filled with arguments and half-asked questions, obviously false answers. When they fall asleep, Jon is turned away. Martin stares up at the ceiling until sleep claims him.

The next day seems a bit dimmer. He stays in bed with Jon as long as he can, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse, the warmth of his breath, as they hold each other in the quiet morning.

Days pass, then weeks. Martin learns every path by heart, every conversation, at first precious, eventually made dull by repetition. Sometimes, he’s able to smile. Sometimes, he admits that he can feel the Lonely rolling over him like the tide. (What could be lonelier than going through such an experience, and being unable to talk about it? What could be lonelier than knowing that, no matter what, everything you do today will be forgotten tomorrow?) Jon can offer comfort, but he cannot ask why that comfort is needed. He cannot know.

In the end, Martin wakes up early. He puts Elias’ message in his pocket and goes into town, buying tea and pastries and two pairs of comfortable walking shoes.

They share a warm breakfast together, as a thick white fog hangs around the cabin. Martin finishes his tea, and places the statement on the table when Jon isn’t looking.

“I’m going to go for a walk.”

“In this fog?” Jon looks out the window, and in his eyes, Martin sees the reflection of the Lonely. He gets up and walks over.

“I just want to stretch my legs. I’ll be back before lunch, alright?”

Jon meets his gaze, and if some communication passes between them, it is swiftly buried by the fog. “Alright. I need to take a statement anyway.”

Before leaving, Martin bends down and kisses him, just once.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Martin steps out into the mist and walks, walks and walks until the world ends.

[sensationallysangwoo]

𝚂𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝙳𝚊𝚢: 𝙲𝚑𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚡 𝙶𝙽!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝙻𝚄𝙵𝙵🧡

🧡𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛-𝚝𝚑𝚎-𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔.

🧡𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚂𝙵𝚆, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚂𝚒𝚌𝚔!𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘, 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝!𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘

🧡𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝! 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

🧡𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @trashk1tty , @torasgfreal , @dilfismz , @pulparindos , @reddead-salem , @daeholuvs , @radarbiterlover , @partyb0yyyy , @sawlover353 , @m4nbl00d , @swtt4hk

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm clock screeches, signifying 5:00 a.m. You feel a stir next to you, followed by a groan. Sang-woo should be rolling out of bed in approximately 1 minute to get ready for work. This is the normal Monday-thru-Friday routine.

You’re privileged enough to be able to sleep in. You stay home and take care of the house while Sang-woo happily financially supports you. You wouldn’t have it any other way. Normally you wake up briefly to give him a kiss goodbye, and then you nestle under the covers for another 3-5 hours.

Today is different, however. Sang-woo doesn’t feel like reaching for his glasses. He takes an extra moment to lift his body, still heavy with sleep, out of the bed. You notice abnormal heat radiating off of him, way more than usual.

“Sang-woo, you gonna get up or what?” You mumble sleepily.

“I’m not feeling too good this morning, darling. Probably just didn’t sleep well. I’ll be okay, though.” He mutters, voice nasally with congestion.

He attempts to stretch despite wincing from the muscle aches. “I can feel you, you’re literally a walking oven. Do you have a fever?” You ask, yawning.

“I’m fine.” He pressed.

“Okay….” You reply, your voice filled with concern.

You hear the shower running, but you also hear a lack of movement in the bathroom. You drowsily drag yourself out of bed to go check on him.

He sat weakly on the closed lid of the toilet, too weak to even take his PJ’s off and get in.

“Baby you can’t go into work like this. No way. Come on, give me your phone. I’ll call your boss.” You gently grab his face in your hands. “You’re burning up, sweetheart.”

“I can’t miss work today. I have an important meeting at 3 that I really can’t cancel.”

You reach into the cabinet and pull out the thermometer. You scan his forehead. 101 degrees. “See that? You are sick. Stop being such a work-o-holic and rest today Sang-woo. Please? For me?”

He finally gave in. “Okay. I’ll call up my boss now. You can’t say I didn’t try to go, though.”

You smile to yourself. Even when he’s a stuffy, feverish mess he’s still absolutely adorable.

“Mr. Kim? Yeah. I’m not making it in today. I’m really sick. 101 fever. Thank you. I will rest up. Goodbye.”

“See how hard was that?” You tease. “Cmon, let’s get you back into bed.”

You turn the shower off and lead him back to the bedroom. You tuck him back into bed and kiss his forehead. He looks miserable.

He hardly ever got sick so the opportunity to take care of him is a rarity. You can’t wait to show him how much you love him and care for him at this time.

You head into the kitchen and make him a cup of his favorite tea. You also grab some medication for him as well and head back to the bedroom.

He lays in bed sniffling and coughing and sneezing. His eyes are droopy and he looks pale. You notice a light sheen of sweat across his handsome face, making his dark hair stick to his forehead slightly. You love him more than anything, even like this.

You hand him the cup of tea and he offers you a meek smile in return. “Thank you, love.”

“Make sure you take these, too. They’ll help you feel so much better.” You gently drop the pills into his hand.

He finishes his tea and sets the empty cup on the bedside table, for now. You’ll get that later.

He lays his head on your chest, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

You almost laugh at how comical this is. He’s so cold and harsh towards the average person. Stoic and unbothered. But you, you’re his safe space. You’re the only person he ever has, and ever will, let his guard down around. Cho Sang-woo, a man who scoffs at anyone who he even suspects has a lower intellect than he, wants you to hold him and cradle him while he is sick. The effect you have on this man is unreal.

You playfully roll your eyes and wrap your arms around him. One of your hands finds its way to his hair as you stroke the dark strands lovingly. You gently and softly kiss his forehead once more. Within what seems to be seconds, he’s snoring.

You feel yourself getting tired again, too. Between his weight pressing down on you, the light snores and the steady pulse of his heart against yours, your eyelids sink comfortably.

You dream of more sick days. Not that you want him to be sick, more-so you want to spend entire days with your lover. You want to see this soft, almost helpless side of him more often. You don’t need to worry though, cus his heart is entirely yours. The emotional wall he’s built for years is crumbling down all because of you.

As for him, he’s dreaming of your homemade soup, your soft touch and your tender, lingering kisses. It’s early. You still have a whole entire sick day ahead of you.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Ohhhh the maternal urge to care for a cold stoic character and shower them in love and affection😩Bahahahaha yk what I mean!!! Anyways hope you liked it, have a wonderful rest of your weekend everyone! -G🫶🤍

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

Your Vampire: Chapter Two

I Feel Pretty

(Max Phillips x f!reader)

Words: 1, 341

Summary: Max Phillips, your friend and boss, is surprised to find out you know he’s a vampire

Warnings: a whole lot of vampire lore in this chapter, no y/n, reader has nickname Garland, Max in a state of undress

Check out masterlist here

“How do you know so much about vampire lore?”

“It’s called reading.”

Sitting across from you on his luxurious couch while talking about being a vampire was not something Max was expecting today.

When he opened his luxury coffin from the floor in his basement, he was surprised to find you standing there. He was more surprised you didn’t run off screaming or fainting dead away. You stood there very calmly for one confronted with a vampire.

“So, I’m a vampire.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I-wait, you do?”

You shrugged, “It wasn’t that hard to work out.”

He made his way out of the coffin, “Brains and beauty; always knew there was a reason to love you. As my executive assistant.”

“Hey, everyone else is too dumb to notice.”

“Huh,” he closed the door in the floor. “You’re not scared I’ll kill you or something?”

You looked at him in his dark red silk pyjamas, “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it by now.”

“Good point,” he suddenly noticed you were standing in his basement. “Wait, what are you doing down here?”

“I was exploring.”

“You are supposed to be resting,” he gently picked you up like it was nothing. Now you knew that it was due to his being a vampire.

“Now, it’s either the bed or the couch.”

“Actually, I need the bathroom.”

“Fine,” he headed towards the bathroom, you still in his arms.

“Hey, I’m fine to walk the small distance. I don’t need supervision in the bathroom.”

Thanking him as he put you down, it suddenly occurred that you have been festering on the couch for too long. You lifted up an arm and gave yourself a sniff.

“Damn, I need a shower. I must stink!”

“You smell like roses to me.”

Snorting out a laugh, you made your way into the bathroom.

One shower and change of clean clothes later, you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and plopped on the couch. Max came down the spiral staircase now in his suit pants and shirt. He sat opposite you on the couch.

“So, you’re a vampire,” you said after a while.

“Yup.”

“Was that after college?”

“Well, after I was kicked out of our college, I went to this one in Romania. They had a unique approach to learning.”

“They turn all their students into vampires?”

“Not all of them, just their best students like me,” he smiled. “It’s surprisingly hard to turn people into vampires,” you looked at him in confusion. “If you do a normal turn, you’ll end up with a lesser vampire, they’re called ghouls. Well, we’re not allowed to call them ghouls anymore. They formed a union back in…”

“Max, you’re rambling.”

“So a true vampire,” Max continued. “Is one that can pass as a human and they are a lot harder to make.”

“It is? So if I wanted to be a vampire,” you started.

“You want to be a vampire?”

“If I wanted to be a vampire,” you reiterated. “How would I go about it?”

“Well,” he paused and got up. “Do you mind if I get myself something?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Do you want tea? I’ve got Darjeeling or green.”

“Sure,” you watched Max as he wandered about the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge and took out a bag of blood from the now-not secret location. He took out two mugs and filled one with blood and put a tea bag in the other.

“You’d need to get a vampire with at least one hundred years on them. And they would have to be assessed. And you’d have to undergo a medical and psychological assessment. So, there’s a lot of paperwork involved. And I hate paperwork.”

“I know, that’s why I do all your paperwork.”

“That’s why I love you. As my executive assistant,” He put the mug of blood in the microwave and turned on the kettle.

“There is another way to make a true vampire,” The microwave pinged as the kettle whistled

“There is?”

“Yeah, it’s some old vampire legend that says if a vampire finds their blood-mate, they can become a true vampire.” His back was to you, but you could still hear him.

“A blood-mate?”

“It’s like a vampire soul mate.”

“That’s a dumb name.”

“I know.”

“So how do you know you’ve found your vampire soulmate? Are there matching birthmarks?”

“There’s signs I’m sure, but it’s just a legend,” he coughed something that wasn’t stuck in his throat, and handed you a mug. “Wait, wrong one.”

He took back the one in your hand and handed you the right one. After he took a satisfying sip, he continued.  “Anyways, you must be bored with all this vampire stuff.”

“Oh no, I’m very fascinated. I’ve got a million questions for you.”

“Are you going to interview this vampire?”

“Heck yeah.”

“I should have made a PowerPoint,” he mumbled.

“My first question is: do you have a reflection?”

“Of course, I’m not missing out on seeing this gorgeous face in the mirror.”

“Can you turn into a bat?”

“And ruin this suit?”

“Wait, I’ve seen you out in the sun? Would that not hurt you?”

“Oh my dear, you are thinking Nosferatu, not Bram Stoker.” You tilted your head in question. “Sunlight only harms a lesser vampire but merely weakens a true vampire. Midday sun is the worst which is why I avoid it.”

“So no tropical vacations for you?”

“I wouldn’t be sunbathing. You can enjoy the sunshine while I stay in the shade.”

“Taking me on a tropical holiday, are you?”

Max shrugged and put his empty mug on the coffee table. “Why not? You deserve a tropical holiday.”

“I do. And I’ve got some vacation time saved up,” you mused at the thought of. “So, to continue the interview: Can you cross running water?”

“Of course I can.”

“Don’t you need soil or something?”

He paused the knotting of his tie, “How do you know so much about vampire lore?”

“It’s called reading.”

He made a noise that he was impressed. “No, we don’t need our native soil to slumber in. We just need to sleep close to earth during sunlight hours to replenish ourselves. Besides, transportation of soil involves a lot of paperwork.”

You bemoaned his hatred of paperwork and continued, “What about the counting thing?”

“What counting thing?” He started putting on his shoes.

“The one where to stop a vampire, you spread out a bunch of rice or something and the vampire is compelled to count every grain until the sun rises.”

“I have never heard of that one.”

“That’s why The Count on Sesame Street counts everything.”

He popped his head up in surprise, “Are you comparing me to a Muppet?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.” He got up and started putting on his vest and suit jacket.

“So what about the silver thing?”

“The silver thing?”

“The silver thing in that it repels vampires.”

“Oh, that was just a rumour created by a vampire.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, I think they had stock in silver or something and wanted to make it valuable, so the rumour was created.”

“That’s wild. It’s like those people who created the myth that diamonds are special.”

“They are a girl’s best friend.”

“No, Max, I think you’re my best friend.”

“Really? Me?” He shook his head. “I have to go into the office.”

“Aw,” you whined. “But I have more questions.”

“All in good time, my pretty.”

As he was leaving, he kissed the top of your head. It was such a quick, casual gesture neither of you noticed it until it had passed. There was a delay in the realisation for both of you. Max momentarily forgot where he left his keys, even though they were in its usual place. And then he forgot where he left the front door, but he made it out eventually. You didn’t notice as you just sat on the couch feeling confused but also content.

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Lovingly tagging @chaithetics @cevans-is-classic @galaxyedging @letsgobarbs @peepawispunk @missladym1981 @kirsteng42 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @ericamarie093 @yorksgirl @popcornforone @allthe-ships @clowncummiess @ellenmunn

[dioslesbianwife]

I’m fighting a nasty cold right now and my throat hurts real bad so could you write about the jofoes being sick/taking care of someone being sick? 😭

—🐠

Omg im so sorry you’re feeling sick 🐠 , literally multiple of my professors, my dad, and two friends just got sick too 😭. Get well soon! <33 here are the HCs!

Sick day headcannons for jojo villains :0

Dio 

Being sick: Dio’s pride makes him utterly intolerable when ill. He refuses to admit weakness and insists he's fine, even if he can barely sit up. His temper flares if anyone suggests he rest, though deep down, he secretly appreciates your concern.

Taking care of you: Surprisingly attentive. Lowkey enjoys the power dynamic of being the one in control while you’re vulnerable. He’s meticulous in caring for you, feeding you rich, revitalizing meals and tucking you in with silk blankets. "You're fortunate I care enough to look after you."

Esidisi

Being sick: Esidisi has little patience for being sick and becomes irritable. He groans and complains about every ache and fever but recovers very quickly- to the point it almost seems like he fast forwarded through the illness.

Taking care of you: Surprisingly nurturing, though a bit overbearing. He insists on keeping you near and warm and feeds you hearty soups, practically forcing you to eat. "You're going to recover, understand?"

Wamuu

Being sick: Wamuu treats sickness like a battle to be won. He rests only when absolutely necessary and views recovery as a test of his strength. He will sometimes work a little harder than he should.

Taking care of you: Incredibly attentive and gentle. He ensures you're comfortable and hydrated, watching over you silently like a guardian. "Rest. I will protect you from any disturbance." He’ll follow up on that too, not letting anyone bother you.

Kars

Being sick: Kars hates anything that diminishes his perfection. He isolates himself until he's fully recovered, refusing to be seen in this weakened state.

Taking care of you: He approaches it scientifically, carefully preparing remedies and monitoring your condition. He offers soothing reassurances. "Your strength will return soon. Trust me."

Kira

Being sick: Kira follows a strict routine for recovery, isolating himself to avoid appearing unkempt. He drinks precise amounts of herbal tea and takes measured doses of medicine. He despises mess, so tissues and clutter are immediately disposed of.

Taking care of you: He's methodical and gentle, ensuring you rest in a clean, orderly environment. He prepares tea and checks your temperature frequently, though he fusses over keeping everything spotless. "Just… rest…I'll handle everything."

Diavolo

Being sick: Diavolo is paranoid when ill, fearing vulnerability. He isolates himself and becomes hostile toward anyone who tries to approach. Only Doppio (and the reader if yall are close) is allowed to see him. Fast forwards through coughs and sneezes.

Taking care of you: Reluctantly caring but fiercely protective. He checks on you frequently, though his anxiety makes him erratic. "If anyone disturbs you, they'll regret it."

Doppio

Being sick: Doppio becomes a little whiny, seeking constant comfort and reassurance. He’s pitiful but sweet, clinging to you for warmth. (Honestly i can see him milking it a bit).

Taking care of you: He’s doting and earnest, though a bit clumsy. He brings you tea and tucks you in with way too many blankets. "You’ll feel better soon! I promise!"

Pucci

Being sick: Pucci continues his duties despite illness, driven by his discipline. He views sickness as a test and rarely complains, though he may collapse from overexertion. At the most he’ll drink some tea and go to bed early.

Taking care of you: His bedside manner is very gentle. He reads scriptures to you in a soothing voice, believing spiritual peace aids physical recovery. "Have faith; you'll recover soon."

Funny Valentine

Being sick: Valentine maintains a composed facade, though he feels frustration at being incapacitated. He tries to continue working from bed, issuing orders between coughs.

Taking care of you: Dutiful and protective, he personally ensures you receive the best care. He sits by your side, offering reassurances and holding your hand. "You will recover. I promise."

[taggen96]

Some fanart / my interpretation of Roo.

I’m really intrigued by this character and what her role’s gonna be in the story (if she’ll be included in Hazbin), so I wanted to try and draw some fanart of her based of the illustration Vivziepop made way back.

It ended up… okay, I guess? There are some things I could’ve changed, but overall I’m pretty happy with how she came out.

[beannary]

Ok so I was at work today and before I left my mom was like hey we’ll visit you at work today what time do you finish etc etc and she was like ok I’ll text you when we’re on our way and so I go the whole day being like I am waiting for a text from my mother saying that she my dad and my grandma are on their way to the museum and then it gets to the end of my shift and I have received no text so I’m like ok they clearly aren’t coming otherwise they would have let me know so I clock out and leave and ten minutes after my shift ended my mom calls me and is like hey where are you and I’m like hello??? I finished work??? I’m walking back to the car??? And she’s like ok well we are here and I’m like 🧍‍♂️ ok so I walk back to the museum and I get there and she’s like hey now we can go see the galleries together and I’m like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ girlie last call happened ten minutes ago we cannot go see the galleries because the museum is fully closing in 30 minutes and she’s like oh I didn’t know that and I’m like yeah you should have looked it up?? Or like asked me??? Or like come when I was working my shift because then you can like guarantee that everything is open

Anyways I’m just annoyed and it’s not even that much of an annoying thing I’m just extra annoyed because I’ve had an awful headache all day and I had to do twenty minutes of extra walking around with my parents and my grandma after work when I should have been driving home and listening to a podcast

[toadsrbutch]

I haven’t had a night without weird dreams for the past like. 3 weeks. and bug wakes me up at 3 and 6 am for a little snack and then breakfast. yippee

[rachiller]

I actually had such a peaceful Tuesday off. Like, yes I didn’t get out of bed until like 2 & shower until 4 but I took it easy and didn’t put any pressure on myself and just like. Breathed and it was calm and I felt peaceful and just took time to be a quiet little slug.

[exopelagic]

yeah I have more to say

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes]

Of course I end up the most annoying level of sick the day I have work!

[homeofthelonelywriter]

“That’s it. I’m done.” Simon, who had been laser-focused on his phone - he might or might’ve not been looking at engagement rings online - glanced up, frowning as he watched you walk to the kitchen. Your back was turned to him so that he couldn’t see your facial expression, but your tone suggested you weren’t happy. He quickly stood up and followed you to the kitchen, where he watched you turn on the kettle.

“What is it, love?” You didn’t turn to look at him, instead furiously searching the cabinets before trudging back to the bathroom, where you had just come from. “I’m sick of it, Si. I’m gonna go to the doctor and have them rip the whole thing out.” Realization dawned on the soldier. It was time again.

Confused, he pulled up the menstruation app on his phone and checked on your cycle. You were a few days early this month, which explained why he hadn’t received a notification yet. With a deep sigh, he followed you, finding you in the bathroom, once again searching through cabinets. Without a word, he opened one you hadn’t looked into yet and pulled out the fuzzy hot water bottle you were looking for. You turned to look at him, tears in the corner of your eyes, and your lips jutted out in a pout.

“I know, love. Come, let me help, yeah?” You nodded, holding up your arms, until he picked you up. Without even as much as a grunt, he lifted you into his arms, carrying your bridal style to your bedroom, where he laid you down and tucked you in. “I’ll be right back, darling.” After pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he disappeared out the door and rushed down to the kitchen, where he prepared your hot water bottle just the way you liked. He also grabbed a mug and made you your favorite tea, knowing that the warmth would help with your cramps.

Before leaving, he grabbed your favorite snacks and a soft blanket from the living room. Then he made his way back to you. In the bedroom, you were curled up on one side, cradling your cramping stomach. After setting the tea down on your nightstand, Simon gently made you uncurl and pressed the hot water bottle against your abdomen, over a blanket, where he knew the cramps always were. “There you go, love.” The snacks were dropped beside the bed as he wrapped the extra blanket around you. “I’ll just grab some more stuff, and then we can spend the day here, cuddling, okay?” You nodded, still pouting and slightly wincing when another cramp hit.

Simon hated seeing you like this, so he rushed around the house, grabbing something cold to drink, pain meds, and anything else you liked to have nearby when you were hurting before returning to the bedroom and jumping into bed. The moment he had crawled underneath the blanket, you latched onto him, your very own heater, and he wrapped his arm around you, holding the TV remote with his free hand. Already knowing all your comfort movies and series, he put one of them on, before relaxing and pulling you closer.

A comfortable silence fell over you two as you watched whatever was playing on TV, Simon’s fingers absentmindedly massaging your stomach, trying to ease the cramps, when an idea came to you. Suddenly, heat started to pool between your legs as you glanced up at your boyfriend. “Si?” He grunted in response, surprisingly focused on the TV. “Si?” You repeated yourself, this time capturing his attention. He was already halfway out the bed, thinking that you’d ask him to get you something, but you pulled him back. “Give me a baby, Si.” He stared at you, all wide-eyed and confused for a second before he pounced on you. Let’s just say it didn’t take you long to get your wish.

Part 2

A/N: Definitely not projecting. Definitely not writhing in pain rn.