#you see i love complicating family trees

[shuuenka]

[OC] Li Yi Ling

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[arolesbianism]

In other news Odile crashed my game during her friend quest. Smiles in pain.

[luveline]

hii jade are u going to write something about hotchner!reader and spencer any soon?

—You panic when Spencer’s late for a date. He makes it up to you as best as he can. fem, 2.6k

cw implied past child abuse

You weren’t young when you were adopted, so you were instilled very quickly with the need to be grateful. How lucky you were to be given a second chance at a family. How you owed it to your new family to be the perfect daughter and sister to a father who didn’t like you and two brothers your senior. 

Family for you is complicated. It always has been. You didn’t get the unconditional love you’d hoped for in all of them, but you have one older brother who loves you as though you and him are two branches of the same tree, and maybe that’s enough for anyone. 

“Yes!” Aaron cheers, jumping up from the bench. 

You spin around with a grin that’s half shy, half ecstatic. “I did it!” 

Jack runs up to your legs. “You got a strike!” 

You pretend to give him a karate chop. “Boosh! Double strike.” You grin as Aaron sizes up the pins down the long ally. “Think your dad can get one before we run out of turns?” 

“No!” Jack laughs. 

You laugh at his easy answer. His father, determined now in the face of your disbelief, picks up a number twelve ball and stands at the arrows to take his last turn. You brace your hands on Jack’s shoulders and wait for the line to be put down again. 

You’re pretty sure he’s throwing his turns to let Jack win. You’d not done the same until you realised the yawning gap in the scores, and maybe you’d feel embarrassed for not noticing if Aaron ever made you feel bad for anything, but he doesn’t. 

Your phone rings as he pulls back his arm. You ignore it. “Good luck, dad!” Jack says under your hands. 

It’s that good luck that gives Aaron his strike. You cheer with Jack as the ball glides straight into the first pin and veers on a spin toward the third, creating a wave of noise and action as the pins go flying back toward the baseboard. 

Aaron turns around with a huge smile. “Jack!” 

“You did it!” Jack cheers back. “Not first, but you did!” 

You grab your phone from your pocket. “Couldn’t let me have it, could you?” you ask. 

“What do you mean?” Aaron picks Jack up from the floor to hold against his chest, pointing at the screen with love. “Look at that, buddy, you won! Can you see that? You got the most points!” Aaron kisses his cheek, high on happiness. “Wow!” 

You have two missed calls from Spencer. To Aaron’s begrudgement, you and Spencer are actually going steady. The first attraction didn’t fizzle, the dates turned to dating turned to exclusivity; Spencer Reid is your boyfriend, and he’s supposed to be taking you out to dinner in ten minutes. 

“Everything okay?” Aaron asks, creeping closer to you, Jack still in his arms. 

“It’s fine, he’s just running late.” You notice his small frown. “His mom’s doctor wanted to talk to him, that’s all.” 

“How late is he thinking?” 

The plan was you’d go bowling with your family and then meet Spencer outside to eat at the Chinese restaurant just across the parking lot, but it’s not seeming so sure now. 

“He said half an hour. I’m pretty hungry,” you say, “he’s gotta speak to a psychiatrist about something. I can’t eat though, right? That’s rude.” 

“That’s not rude, honey. You can’t help being hungry as much as he can’t help being late.” As you’d noticed his, he notices your small frown. “You can’t go hungry,” he says with a shrug, “so you’re gonna have to come and eat something, but Spencer can join us when he’s done.” 

“Right, because you’ll love that.” 

“I’ve been on more dates with him than you have.” 

You take Jack as he opens his arms toward you. “I forget. I always think of you as his boss, and not his teammate.” 

Aaron grabs Jack’s backpack off of the bench, and your empty cups off of the table to throw away. “I am his boss. Okay, Jack, what do you want for dinner? What sounds good?” 

You, Aaron and Jack leave the bowling alley and end up in the Italian restaurant opposite of your originally proposed restaurant. You carry Jack on your hip and text Spencer with your open hand, content to let Aaron guide you through what little foot traffic there is to your table. Aaron sits on one side of the booth with Jack, and you slide into the other side. 

Spencer’s texts are getting more and more convoluted. He says he’s sorry, and then he says he has to call someone else, and then he needs to talk to his mom. You nibble your fingernail. 

“You okay?” 

You nod slowly. “Yeah, uh… Yes, everything’s fine.” 

“Is Spencer okay?” 

“I think he might cancel.” 

Aaron flattens his menu. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. I think his mom is having a bad day…” 

“What else are you worried about?” 

Jack saves you for a moment, “Dad, can I have juice?” 

“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll get you juice. Apple juice?” 

Jack presses his cheek to Aaron’s arm, earning himself a hug. 

“Are you tired?” Aaron whispers. 

“No.” 

“Okay. Hey, there’s a table over there with some colouring pages and crayons, do you see that? Do you want to do some colouring?” 

“Can I go get some?” Jack asks. 

“Yes. Don’t bump into anybody, okay?” 

The table isn’t far enough to worry, but Aaron splits his attention between Jack and you fairly evenly, just a tad more worry following his son. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Aaron asks. 

“You don’t think Spencer would lie, do you?” you ask. 

“Lie about his mother? I doubt it very much.” 

You trust Aaron, and you trust Spencer too, but Aaron has earned that trust over years and years where Spencer has been gifted it. He hasn’t done anything to break it, but he hasn’t proved he should have it yet either. And really, truly, it isn’t actually about what you believe of Spencer. 

You feel a bit nauseous, but your brother is the best person in the world, so you tell him why without preamble, “I’m worried that he’s going to get sick of me.” 

“Why would he do that?” Aaron asks. 

You scratch at the menu beneath your hand rather than meet his eyes. Because you’re awful. That’s what your father instilled in you, and it’s what you’ve come to learn. Eventually, the people who love you get tired of you. Everyone except Aaron, and isn't that proof of something? He’s the only man good enough to pretend you’re someone worth caring about. 

If he could hear your thoughts he’d probably cry. It’s why you’ve struggle to tell him. 

You rub your thumb into the side of your index finger, feeling the texture of your skin. “I think people just do.” 

Jack returns quickly, with paper and a huge fist full of crayons, though there are four colours altogether. “Well,” Aaron says, helping Jack back into his seat, crayons rolling released from a small fist every which way, “I don't. And Jack doesn’t, Haley doesn’t. I see no reason why Spencer would feel that way.” 

“What don’t I do?” Jack asks, frowning at his dad. 

“You don’t think Aunt Y/N’s bad at bowling, do you?” 

“You’re great at bowling!” Jack's eyes go wide. “I’m gonna make us a photo, to remember. We got strikes!” 

You let your face fall into your hand as Aaron strokes hair up the side of Jack’s head. It’s a soothing thing to see, you know the soft touch of his hand well, having been petted and patted through a hundred different bad moments. 

Spencer probably isn’t lying about why he’s late, but he could be. You wouldn’t blame him. 

“She’s very good at bowling,” Aaron says, hugging Jack to his side. “And so many other things, that’s why we love her. Should we make a list?” 

He used to love doing that, too. 

Your father wasn’t a nice or kind man. Aaron doesn’t know how it escalated, only knows what happened to him, and how he’d come to see you and you’d burst into tears the second he asked how you were. 

If Aaron knew how bad it was at the time he would’ve forced you to leave, but you never told the whole truth. He assumed it to be a mixture of everything —school was awful, dad was worse, and you were more isolated than most. 

Make me a list, he’d say. 

The first time you didn’t get it. You were a teenager sitting on his couch, his wife in the kitchen, a weight on your chest. What for? 

A list of the stuff that’s bothering you. 

Do you need a list? you’d asked. He had a knack for knowing more than you could say. 

I think we should make one. 

You realise now it was a strategy to calm you down. If you could quantify the things that were depressing you, you could begin to understand it, and hopefully dismantle some of the bigger problems. It didn’t always work, but it didn’t matter. It made you feel better just to have you and Aaron on the same couch with a notebook and a number two pencil. Don’t see my brother enough, he’d written with a sad face. 

Brother, you’d thought with a secret joy. He’s your brother. 

Jack and Aaron make a list they won’t show you. You order drinks and then dinner, waiting for a phone call or a text back you don’t receive. It’s disheartening, and when your pasta arrives, you can barely eat. 

“Honey,” Aaron says, “why don’t you go call him? You can see if he’s alright.” 

You poke at a shell with a tightly gripped fork. “What if he doesn’t want me to call him? It sounds serious.” 

“Maybe that’s why you should call him. I think he’d appreciate it.” He looks like he wants to reach for you, but ultimately, he doesn’t. “Take a minute for yourself, if nothing else. Everything’s okay, I promise.” 

“Sorry.” 

“For what?” Jack asks. 

You smile regretfully. “I’m just feeling confused today, babe. What about you? Are you confused about where your mouth is?” you tease lightly. 

Aaron gasps a laugh and reaches over to wipe Jack down with a napkin as you slip from the booth. You take your phone, worrying that Aaron’s eyes are on your back as you pass by the host booth and back out onto the street. The breeze kisses your clammy skin. 

Why do you assume that no one really likes you? It’s difficult to comprehend. Your thumb hovers over Spencer’s contact photo, debating, and debating. Should you call him? He might be preoccupied, upset even, and what if you make it worse? But if you don’t call him, you can’t reassure yourself that you’re not in trouble. 

He answers on the third trill. 

“Hello?” you ask. 

“Hey!” There’s a sound like something heavy has been put down. “Hey, I’m so sorry!” 

“Don’t be sorry!” you say immediately. “It’s okay. Are you okay?” 

Spencer’s voice is a little high and fast, but beside that, he has a nice tenor. When he’s calm and feeling up to it, alone at night with nothing else to do, he’ll read to you from one of his infinite books, his syllables catching and tripping over air as you rub your nose into his arm. 

“I’m fine! There was a mixup with some medication at the sanitarium and they realised my mom’s dose of one of her antipsychotics has been charted higher than she was really taking, so she’s been having a hard time, it’s a total mess but I think we have it figured out now. How was bowling?” 

“Spencer, are you sure it’s okay?” 

“It’s fine.” He laughs softly, not a hint of condescension or derision for you, but an emotion you can’t name. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“I mean, it’s fine if it’s not okay. I know you can’t help yourself sometimes, but you don’t have to tell me it’s fine if it’s not fine.” 

“Uh–” You cough around it. “No, it really is. You can’t help it. Family is important, right?” 

“It’s so important. Listen, where are you right now?” 

“I’m just standing outside of the Pasta Factory by the bowling alley. I tried to have dinner ‘cos I’m starving, but… I think I lost my appetite.” 

“What? Are you okay?” 

“I’m having one of those days, I guess?”

“What kind of day?” 

His voice is bouncing strangely, as though he’s talking near you. You pause, turning on your heel to look down the few stairs into the parking lot asphalt. 

Spencer’s walking up them, a bouquet of roses in his hands. 

“Hi,” you say, the phone still pressed to your ear. 

Spencer puts his away. “Hi. 

His hug is full, all-encompassing and warm as he wraps his arms around you, the bouquet a cacophony of crinkling against your shoulder. He smells like aftershave, his Tom Ford one with the woody tinge that has you pressing your nose into the top of his shoulder to just breathe. Your phone digs into his spine. He doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Hey,” he says softly, giving you a similar swaying, back and forth. “I’m sorry I’m late, I had to call them, but it wasn’t fair on you.” 

“Spencer,” you say, holding him tightly. “You’re my boyfriend.” 

“Don’t sound so unsure.” 

“No, but. We can be flexible, right?” 

“Of course we can, but I’m still sorry.” He peels back to smile at you, his eyes gently squinted. “So what’s wrong? What’s making it one of those days?” 

You can’t explain it to him. He likely doesn’t need you to. 

You’re expecting him to pull away —you’re in a public place and affection isn’t his usual expertise— but he doubles down. New boyfriend or not, this hug feels like it’s from somebody who’s loved you for years and years. 

“What’s making it a bad day?” he asks quietly. 

“I don’t know…” You rub your nose self indulgently against his shoulder. 

“Are you sure you have no appetite? Maybe that’s what it is? Stuff tends to feel bigger or more upsetting when we’re hungry because low blood sugar prompts your body to release more hormones that affect your cortisol level, and cortisol plays a big part in how your mind interprets your emotions.” Spencer pulls away, his hand sliding up your shoulder to hold you in place. He grins. “So I think you should still let me take you to dinner. Especially if you didn’t eat much.” 

Why would Spencer lie to you? you think, relieved. He wouldn’t. And the idea that he’s going to get sick of you, that’s rooted in bad lessons from a poor situation. It’s not a reflection on you. 

“We will,” you decide, “I just have to get my stuff. I left my bag, and Jack’s writing me a list.” 

“What list?” 

“A list of stuff I’m good at.” 

He doesn’t waver. “Really? Can I add stuff too?” You turn your nose up in an unsubtle prompting, satisfied when Spencer gives you a quick, smiling kiss. “Sorry,” he says, though his apology is distracted by a fond undertone, “I missed you.” 

You receive a few more gentle kisses for all your worries, and you begin to feel better. Spencer presses the roses into your hand and encourages you into the restaurant with his hand spread behind your back. 

[thetriumphantpanda]

baby, it's cold outside | joel miller

Summary | Patrolling with Joel is always easy, he's your friend after all, but when a snow storm forces you to stop halfway, you're both faced with feelings that you'd both rather ignore, but with nothing but time, talking about them is your only option.

Word Count | 4.2k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Explicit 18+. A snow storm and a cabin with a nice, warm fireplace. Unspecified age gap. Explicit smut - unprotected PiV (don't do this, pls be smart), oral sex (F), size kink if you squint, dirty talk, two idiots who love each other, some negative feelings towards the holidays but nothing else I can think of!

Authors Note | A huge thank you to the wonderful @hellishjoel for setting the 12 days of Pedro up and asking me to take part - this was so much fun to put together and I hope you all love it as much as I do!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for the divider!

Despite having lived in Wyoming for years now, the winters were still a surprise to you. Icy cold winds, frosted windows every morning, thick downfalls of snow almost daily and a struggle to get warm no matter how many layers you wore. Some would call it picturesque, and you suppose you could see it, everywhere you turned in Jackson at this time of year, even though it was against the backdrop of the end of the world, it looked like it could adorn the cover of any Christmas card or be the setting for any Christmas movie. It didn’t matter, because you hated it either way.

When the tree went up in the centre of town, and the lights got switched on, it only served to remind you how solitary you were. How you existed mainly entirely on your own. No family, barely any friends, always the talk of the gaggle of girls who would whisper to each other whenever you passed and start laughing to each other, or the boys who always wondered why instead of hanging around with people your own age, you opted to spend it alone, or with someone who was pushing sixty.

Because if there was a single person in this Godforsaken town that you could class as a friend, it was Joel Miller. Quiet, closed off, unapproachable until you chipped away at his hard exterior, just like you in so many ways, it was actually sickening really. You liked Joel, ever since Tommy had put you two together for patrols when Maria had given birth, it was like you’d found someone who finally understood your need to be alone.

Patrolling outside the walls gave you peace, let you leave your loneliness behind for a while, just you and the ground beneath your boots, the feeling that you were doing something wrong, were less of a person because of your lack of friends and relationships left behind at the gate. You’d proven yourself capable more than enough times for Tommy to realise you were an asset. You’d saved more than enough people with your good aim and quick trigger finger, been ruthless in getting rid of raiders who strayed too close to your safe haven, and he knew your need for solitude, which is why he trusted you on these longer routes, on the more complicated patrol rotations, the ones that would get you out of Jackson for a week.

You surmise that’s probably why he chose to pair you up with Joel. In the two years you’d patrolled together, you’d come to realise that he needed that solitude just as much as you did. A way to leave behind being a father at the gate and remind himself of exactly who he was before. Out here, walking side-by-side next to you, he wasn’t Ellie’s dad, he wasn’t the man who still woke up in cold sweats remembering the heavy weight of his dead daughter in his arms, or that man who had lost almost everyone he’d ever cared for along the way, he was just Joel. Joel, who was more comfortable cradling a rifle in his arms than he was his infant nephew. Joel, who preferred comfortable silence instead of filling the quiet with talk. Joel, who, even when you suspected he hated you at the start, would have protected you to the death no matter what.

You were similar, far more than you’d like to admit, and as the weeks and months had drawn on, and you’d moved into being more comfortable with each other, he really was one of those things you’d wanted for so long. A friend. Someone to rely on, someone to drink with at the end of a hard patrol route, someone who made sure you ate when it was the last thing on your mind, someone who fixed the hole in your roof and put new planks of wood on your porch when you almost fell through it one day, someone who confided in you about how hard he found being a parent again, someone who opened up to you when things started to sour with Ellie. A friend.

He was also someone, in the last six months, that you suspected wanted to be more than your friend. It had started small, with things any good friend would do. He would offer you his arm when you walked during the winter so you wouldn’t slip, started packing double lunch so he knew you’d eat when you’d go out together, but then it was the hand on the small of your back through town, or the way he’d sit close to you in the bar, knees knocking against yours just so he could put a hand on your knee to apologise for getting too close.

And it’s not like you didn’t see that in him either. For a man who was almost sixty, he was incredibly handsome, able to do unspeakable things on patrol that neither of you would talk about to anyone else, strong in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Sure, his hearing was shot in one ear, his middle soft with age, and his hair and beard peppered with grey hair, but Joel Miller was a sight.

But, what if you’d read his signals wrong? What if his kindness and that warm hand on your knee was just him being a Southern gentleman? You throw yourself at him and he doesn’t feel the same, what happens then? You lose one of the very few friends you’ve ever had, and that’s somehow worse than knowing you’ll never know what the feel of his skin is like under your touch or what it sounds like when he moans your name for you.

The patrol route is brutal this day, wind and snow making it hard to see anything in front of you. You and Joel had to shout loudly to each other in order to hear anything, so when you stumble across the cabin, halfway through the route, you both decide that it’s best to head inside, get warm and wait out the worst of the storm before carrying on. Safer that way, is what Joel said, but you think it’s got more to do with the cold on his joints than the safety. Even at your younger age, your bones were certainly aching.

The wind whips a flurry of snow into the abandoned cabin when Joel pushes the door open, ushering you inside quickly, shutting the door quickly behind the two of you before more snow can follow you in. He sets his rifle down near the door and his backpack on the worn, moth-eaten couch, kneeling in front of the fireplace.

This particular cabin is a regular stop on this patrol route, an agreement between the residents of Jackson who frequent it to keep it stocked with firewood during the cold season. You silently note to thank whoever had patrolled before you for stacking the fireplace so all Joel really needs to do is set fire to the scrunched paper dotted through the wood to get the warmth of the fire flooding the small front room.

“Reckon we’re here for the long run,” Joel grumbles, holding flat palms up to the flames to warm his hands, “Ain’t no way we’re walking anywhere in that.”

And he’s right, the light of the day is fading fast and even in daylight, the blizzard had been a nightmare to traverse. It’s not like you’re wanting to rush back though, you sometimes wish you could pack everything up and come out here for good, live in your solitude until the end of your days, but for now, just a few more nights away from the place that reminds you just how alone you are will do.

You settle down on the couch, trying to burrow further into the coat around your body, not bothering to take your gloves or your hat off until the flames of the fire are stronger.

“Come sit closer,” Joel murmurs, motioning with his hand for you to sit on the floor next to him, “Warm up a little.”

You slip down from the couch and scoot along the floor until you’re sat next to him. Joel reaches over and takes hold of your wrist, gently pulling off your glove, “They’re damp,” He states, reaching for your other hand to do the same, “Take your coat off too, you’ll get a chill otherwise.”

Working to unzip the front to pull it off, whilst Joel throws an extra few pieces of wood on the fire, you settle a little bit closer to the flames, feeling the warmth start to seep through your other layers. He stands, taking your coat and his, hanging them on either end of the fireplace to dry out a little, then he sits back down next to you, although a little closer than he had been before, so close that you can feel the heat of his body next to you.

You take a moment to steal a look up at him, his body larger than yours, towering a little next to you, but in the glow of the flames he’s fucking breathtaking. You get lost in tracing his jaw and the hook of his nose with your eyes that he’s turning his head to face you before you can turn away from him. He catches you with that small smile that is saved only for his family normally, Ellie, Tommy, sometimes Maria, and now, more often, you. So you smile back at him, let the warmth lick through your body, and before you realise it, he’s leaning his, broad shoulders bumping yours as his face gets closer, and God, it would be so easy to let him do it, move your face towards him, press your lips to his and burn it all to hell, but as he inches closer, that pit is opening in your stomach, bubbling anxiety and dread, so as he inches closer, you have to stop him.

You bring one of your fingers up to press against his lips gently, watching as he purses them against your touch a little, but then his eyes open when you speak, so softly, so quietly that he almost missed your plea, “Please don’t.”

It’s like you’ve burnt him with the way he not only drags his face from you, but his whole body, putting so much distance between the two of you that you almost cry. He clears his throat, running his hand over his face, “Right,” He mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” You insist, not meeting his eyes though, “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Stupid of me,” He shakes his head, “Just thought-” He sucks in a breath and pushes it out on a sigh, “Thought maybe you’d feel the same, but it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, Joel,” You sigh, finally turning to him, “It’s okay.”

“Makes sense,” He shrugs, eyes boring holes into the flames in front of you, “I’m old, too old for you to want me.”

“It has nothing to do with you being too old for me Joel, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.”

You expect him to drop it, like he often does with these kinds of conversation, the ones that involve feelings, but he doesn’t.

“Then what is it?”

“Well, it has nothing to do with your grey hairs or your creaky fucking knees, that’s for sure.”

He’s looking at you with a look that says to get fucked, hurry up, tell him the real reason for all this.

“I could be shit in bed for all you know.”

“Well that’s easy to rectify, just need a little practice.”

It makes you snort, “Can we be fucking serious for a minute, Miller?”

“You’re the one who said it first.”

“What happens when it goes tits up?” You ask, “When you get bored of me, or realise I’m not what you thought I was, what happens then?” He opens his mouth to respond to you, but you beat him to it, “I lose my best friend, that’s what happens, the only person in this Godforsaken world that I have, and I don’t want that, I don’t want a world where I’m without you.”

“Who says it’s going to go tits up?” He counters, “Baby, I’m old, I ain’t gonna go running off, I just want somethin’ good, somethin’ happy, and I want that with you,” Just like you had done before, he starts talking again before you can add something, “Put your faith in somethin’, darlin’,” He’s moving back towards you now, shifting closer, “Put your faith in, me.”

It sounds so easy when he says it like that, because you had once before, without even realising. Let him in, let him get close, to know everything you’d been through, share everything he’d been through. You let him sit with you late at night in the summer, strumming his guitar on your porch, he lets you share his whiskey when you need it.

“I’m still gonna be your best friend,” He urges, that warm palm resting on your knee, “That ain’t gonna change, we’re just gonna add to it.”

And for some reason, it snaps, all of your good judgement and everything that was holding you back. His face is cradled in your palms before you know it, your body straddling his lap as your mouth slants over his, a surprised gasp swallowed by your mouth as his lips open against yours, his hands coming to rest on the globes of your ass through your jeans, pulling you closer, chest flush to chest as you soak this in.

Hands dropping to the collar of his shirt, you start to slowly unbutton it, mouth still against his, tongue tasting him as your fingers push button after button through their holes until you can push it from his shoulders, drag his arms from it, drag his undershirt from it’s place tucked into his jeans.

Joel gasps when your hands make contact with the skin under it, fingers still slightly icy from the cold, but that too is swallowed by your mouth, as is the moan that drags from your throat when he bucks his hips into yours.

He pulls away from your lips, forehead pressed to yours as you both breathe deeply, “Don’t seem shit in bed so far.” He chuckles.

“I was fucking with you Joel,” You smile, punctuating it with a roll of your hips into his, “I’m a delight in bed.”

“Prove it.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“This is the floor Joel,” Which earns you a squeeze to your ass, “I’ve never fucked someone on the floor before.”

Before you know what’s happening, he’s flipped you over, your back pressed to the dusty wooden floor, his body looming over yours, fingers picking the button of your jeans apart, pulling the zipper down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down your legs, underwear along with them too, before they’re thrown behind him somewhere, forgotten as he parts your knees, legs spread, exposed to him, and you think you might die from the way he looks at you. You bury your head into your shoulder, trying to escape his gaze as he drags his thumb along your folds, growling when he feels how wet you are just from his mouth on yours.

You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of his feet hitting one of the armchairs behind him as he lowers his chest to the floor, hands pulling at your hips, your back dragging across the wooden floor as his mouth presses a single, feather-light kiss to your clit. The smallest of touches to your body has your back arching into him.

How long has it been? Not since you fucked someone, because in the grand scheme of things that hasn’t been too long. No, how long has it been since someone actually made you feel good? Years, you think. Too long. Too long since sex was anything more than just stress relief, pressed against the brick wall by the Tipsy Bison, letting someone fuck you so you could feel something, giving them the bragging rights of fucking the town outcast in return.

This is different. So different. Joel is slow with it, parting you in front of his face with his thumbs, tongue swirling through the slick you’re not even embarrassed about now, tasting you, drinking you in, before he drags his perfect mouth up, lapping gently at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Taste so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He coos against your skin, his praise making you preen, hips chasing the feeling of his mouth on you, he chuckles at your desperation, “How long’s it been since someone made you feel good, huh?”

Your fingers tangle in the curls on his head, dragging him back down to your cunt to silence him, “Too long.” Is all you offer as he feasts on you.

Tongue swirling, lips suckling, fingers digging into the skin of your hips, dragging you slowly but surely to the edge, the fire in your blood no match for the fire against your skin. He’s fucking good at this, knows exactly how to listen to your moans, the way you pull at his hair when he does something you like, collecting the little gasps and hip movements until he’s working a pattern on your pussy that makes you feeling like you’re going to explode, combust, maybe even die a little.

“Don’t stop,” You urge, breathless, sheen of sweat settling across what skin of yours is exposed to the flames near to you, “Gonna - fuck Joel - gonna cum.”

That’s when he pushes two of his fingers into you. Hooking them up inside of your cunt, your legs dropping open further than you thought possible as he works you and works you. You’ve gone quiet, letting out only short breathes when holding them in makes your head light, fingers so tight in his hair that you think it’s probably hurting.

Then, you think you find God, right there on the dirty, dusty floor, when the coil snaps inside of you. Your back arches off the floor, thighs clenched around Joel’s head as his tongue continues the flicks against your clit, ignoring the high-pitches whines of too much, Joel listening instead to the movement of your legs, the way your entire body convulses until you truly are spent for him.

Joel pushes himself up onto his knees, dragging his undershirt over his head, pulling his belt through its loops as you’re sitting up, dragging the upper portion of your clothes off, naked on the floor for him, the flames from the fire keeping you warm, even if your nipples do pebble and peak against the cold.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel breathes out as your hand settles on your pussy, fingers dragging through the slick to lazily move over your clit, “I wish you could see yourself right now, baby,” He crones, pushing down his jeans, cock springing free, immediately clasped in his fist, movements slow as he watches you touch yourself, “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

His body falls forward, coverings yours, but this isn’t what you want. Hand on his chest, you’re pushing him back, “Wanna ride you, Joel.” You whine.

Like a kid on Christmas, he’s on his back in seconds, jeans and underwear pooled around his ankles because if you’re not sinking down on him in the next few seconds, he’s going to scream. You settle your thighs on either side of his hips, his cock, heavy and throbbing against his stomach. He’s watching you, as you take the base of him in your hand, line him up with that aching core of yours, head notching into you, where you just keep him for a moment, let him stretch you as you ground yourself with palms on his chest, sinking down, inch by inch until he’s fully buried inside you, warmth wrapping around him, just like the warmth from the fire against his skin.

You start moving your hips, his cock so deep in you he swears if he put a palm on your lower belly, he’d feel himself through your skin with the way you’re grinding against him, head thrown back, mouth dropped open. He wishes he could take a photo of this. He doesn’t think he’s seen a nicer sight in his life.

“It’s a lot, ain’t it baby?” He coos, hands on your hips, guiding your movements, he knows he’s big, been told enough times through his life, but the way you’re slow, getting used to him inside him, has him on the verge of spilling inside you already.

“So big, Joel.” You whine, leaning back now, hands on his knees which have moved up, his feet planted on the floor now, and God alive, if he thought you were a sight before, you’re a fucking masterpiece now as you start bouncing on his cock.

He can’t help himself, he is only a man after all, his hands trailing up the curves of your side, taking hold of your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, listening to the way you sing for him. Somehow, he finds core strength from somewhere, pushes himself up, one hand behind him to prop him where he is, as his mouth sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling that pebbled peak with his tongue, your arm wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself against him, hips still working against his, finger tangling in the curls near his neck, keeping his mouth anchored right where it is.

Joel pulls off you, a wet smack from his lips as he looks up at you with those beautiful brown orbs, “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” He praises, “So tight around me, like you were made for me.”

“Wanna feel you,” You moan, head dropping against his shoulder, “Wanna feel you come for me.”

He’s wrapping his arms around your back, dragging you down with him as he rests himself back on the floor, your chest pressed to his as he finally takes control. Feet planted on the floor with your teeth digging into his shoulders, he fucks up into you, the cabin filled with nothing but breathy moans and a lewd smack of skin as he pounds himself into you. In an ideal world he’d focus on making you come again, feeling you clench around his cock as you fall apart would be incredible, but he thinks there will be time for that later.

He’s so fucking close, you can feel it, the way his fingers are gripping t every inch of skin they can reach, the way his hips are faltering and how your name is more of a feature on his lips. You let out a surprise squeal as he flips you both, your back now to the ground as his cock slips out of you, his fist replacing the wet heat of your cunt as the warmth of his cum splashes across your lower belly, a howl, not unlike an animal, falling from his mouth as he paints you, claims you as his own with those ropes of cum across your skin.

When all is said and done, and he’s taken in the sight of your skin splashed with his spend, the two of you lying in front of the fire, one blanket dragged from the bed on the floor to soften the harsh wood, another pooled around both your hips, this feels like home. Both you and Joel, led on your side, watching each other, and the flickering light of the fire bathes you both in orange, in warmth.

His hand traces your face, thumb dragging across your bottom lip as he leans in to kiss you. Hours later, with harsh wind and snow still swirling outside, he brushes a thumb across your nipple, your hand reaching down between you to find him hard again. He puts you on your back this time, creaky knees be damned, slides his cock into your aching cunt once more, fucks you slowly, the entirety of his weight pressed against you. That orange glow almost convincing you that this was before, when things were normal, romantic even, as his lips leaves tiny bruises across your skin.

When he’s marked you once more as his, cum splashed from your pussy to your tits, he lies back down, the broad expanse of his back to the dying embers of the fire, your back pressed to his front, his arm snaked under your neck, urging you to sleep, and as you drift off, Joel’s hot breath against the skin of your ear, his other arm draped loosely over your waist, you pray that the snow is just as bad in the morning, because if it were possible, you want to return even less now, want to remain huddled next to Joel, on the floor, for the rest of your life.

[darkmuffinstudios]

headcanons/delusions that i have for the bad sanses part 86 because i'm not normal

(apologies for the length this post will be. I needed to write all of these down or I would explode <3)

(These can be general headcanons, found family, queer platonic, or poly if you want to interpret them in any way ^^)

All of them. Every single one is touch-starved.

Despite all being touch starved, all of them have different (typically negative) responses to being touched suddenly/without warning.

Killer's love language is touch, both giving and receiving (funnily enough).

He also has a habit of sneaking up on the others. This is half-unintentional, since he's light on his feet naturally and makes no sound whenever he walks.

For no coincidence at all, Killer also has been thrown the most by the gang.

He doesn't resent them for it at all.

Cross wears his old uniform (despite his initial dislike for the design) a lot. He claims its out of habit, but deep down, it's because it *proves* that he was worth something once. It's his accomplishment as a royal guard, and that's something that despite the bitterness of the job, he takes pride in. Yes, he still hates the design, and yes, he hates how complicated it is. But he also appreciates the attention to detail, how meticulous and organized you have to be to put it on.

If the last bullet point didn't emphasize enough, Cross has self-worth problems.

So does Killer, but he's accepted it.

Nightmare has a catacomb of trinkets and items alike that has grown sentimental value over the years. He visits there when he's feeling particularly nostalgic, usually in the quiet of the night.

Dust doesn't like seeing his own bones. Gloves, long sleeves, scarves, hoods, slippers and socks- nothing can show. It's probably because of all the dust that practically clung to him from all the people he's killed. It's stained his fingers, his knuckles, his feet.

Horror's eye can actually roll to the other side of his head if he tilts his head enough. No, it isn't painful.

Something very stupid that Horror does (rarely) is he stores small things in the hole in his head. Yes, that one can hurt if forgotten.

Killer has so many cats that it's a problem. Nightmare can't bring himself to make him get rid of any though.

Dust has trained a murder of crows in Nightmare's realm. They follow him in the trees whenever he goes out to walk, and he keeps small pieces of food from his dinners to feed them.

Cross cannot, for the life of him, hide whenever he feels embarrassed (and he feels this often).

Not to say Cross can't mask his emotions. You know, with all the royal guard training and all. And the trauma.

Nightmare suffers from chronic insomnia. He can't bring himself to relax enough to. Although, he doesn't mind mimicking the behavior when he naps with any of the guys, if only to encourage them to sleep.

Nightmare feels safer when sleeping near or with someone in his bed. I'd say its because he probably got jumped as a kid whenever he slept. They're all long dead, but do it enough and the body never forgets.

Killer always picks up small little gifts for the guys every time he goes out. He'll look at something and go "Hey, he'd like that", and nab it. Probably a behavior he picked up when Nightmare first brought him on, since he noticed Nightmare liked to collect things.

Cross's love language is receiving gifts and words of affirmation. (haha). Everyone has picked up on this already, and abuses this knowledge to no end.

Horror waits for everyone to start eating before he eats his own food.

Horror also always carries emergency snacks/food bags with him wherever he goes. Not necessarily for himself though.

Dust loves pancakes. His mood immediately improves if he eats them.

Killer has a large scar that never quite healed right.

Nightmare used to write with a feathered quill. Killer had gotten him a very nice fountain pen long ago though, and he's since abandoned the quill.

Horror has a garden in the back that Nightmare helps him out with. Horror was more interested in crops and harvest, while Nightmare was particularly fond of flowers and trees.

Dust, Killer, and Cross help out with the garden sometimes. They just don't maintain it as diligently as the aforementioned two.

Dust paints. Killer joked about it being therapeutic and artsy and shit, but Dust actually ended up liking it. He could finally express the mess inside his head without any words.

Dust has his own painting room in a part of the castle. It has lots of windows and art hung on the walls.

All the gang occasionally visit Dust while he paints, most simply sitting and watching the brushstrokes. The only one that has actually also drew in that room was Cross. Dust and Cross kind of bond like that.

Cross helps the most with cooking. Horror typically likes to be in charge of the meals/food in the house, but greatly appreciates Cross's help. He feels he's the most reliable, anyways.

Killer does whittling/woodcarving. He makes little figures, knives, intricate pieces, coasters, kitchen tools, etc. His favorite to make is little cat figurines though.

Cross's room is the most clean/organized/empty. Unlike the others, he didn't customize his room in the slightest (keeping the bare minimum of bed, dresser, shelves, etc.).

It is the MTT's mission to fill Cross's room with so many things. Dust gifts Cross paintings to hang on his wall. Killer places little wooden cats on his shelves. Horror places a secret snack stash for Cross, and continually resupplies it.

Nightmare can play a lot of instruments, actually.

Killer has begged on his knees (dramatically of course) to hear Nightmare play ever since he found this out (which was before any of the others even joined). Nightmare doesn't humor him though.

For the life of him, Killer cannot sing. It makes him so mad. Like, he's off-pitch, tone-deaf, off-beat.

Which is funny since I think all the others can sing very well. Horror hums in the kitchen sometimes, Dust sings quietly to himself in his room, Cross is too shy to sing but can, and Nightmare is just musically inclined.

Killer is a little insecure about it.

Okay, he's very insecure about it, but that doesn't stop him from belting out his favorite song like a fool. Like, he understands he's bad, and accepts that fact whenever he's feeling extra confident. But the times he isn't... yeah.

Horror likes it when someone naps on him. Free weighted blanket.

Dust often naps in the weirdest places. In closets, in the wedge between a table and couch, on a high-window sill.

Dust also has back problems. I wonder why.

(A personal favorite of mine: ) Nightmare keeps someone to his right/keeps his tentacles to the right of himself. Since he lost his eye, he has quite the large blind spot, hence why he compensates for it with one of his boys/his tentacles.

Nightmare isn't actually all that athletic. Whenever they all go out, he's always the one that gets left behind the most.

Cross has a habit of matching the walking pace of the person he's with.

Horror can pick up all of them. Very easily. With one hand. Not all at once, of course, but if Dust or Killer are trying to sneak some snacks before dinner, he grabs them by the scruff of their jackets.

Horror lets Cross eat snacks though (encourages it, even. Bro should probably eat more).

Nightmare is a tea-holic. He has a large supply of all of his favorites in the kitchen cupboards. He keeps medicinal ones in both the kitchen and infirmary. They have several kettles. He collects tea sets.

Killer is the best at making tea. Something about his attention to detail, as Nightmare puts it.

The only person that drinks coffee regularly in the castle is Dust. He needs it to deal with everyday bullshit. Coffee makes Cross, Killer, and Horror too antsy. Nightmare sometimes drinks coffee, but not often.

Both Horror and Dust hate it when you change the laundry detergent. They are very particular about the smell. They very much like the scents they chose, thank you very much.

I HIT THE WORD LIMIT??????

I didn't even realize I was writing that much, but I guess I got pretty carried away, haha.

This was downright therapeutic though- I might to this again soon/some other time ^^

[saintobio]

blue christmas

a sincerely yours christmas special. non-canon. angst. 900 wc. part of the sy side-stories.

It was quiet that night. 

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air while the warm glow of Christmas lights twinkled on the tree. Outside, snow drifted lazily to the ground, covering the surroundings of your home in a soft, pile of white. It felt peaceful—almost too peaceful—and you sat back on the couch, lounging after a nice Christmas dinner with your teenage son, Sachiro, who cradled a mug of cocoa in his hands beside you.

You smiled faintly, admiring how much he had grown, and how this quiet night seemed so far removed from the all the drama that had once filled your life. But the comfort of the moment didn’t last long before he spoke. His voice, deep like his father’s, broke the silence of your supposed peaceful night. 

“Mom,” he began, “Why didn’t you ever choose to remarry Dad?”

The question hit you harder than expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Really, what were the right words? You had never been good at talking about these things, and you didn’t expect that your son would put you on the hot seat like this. The past, especially those connected to Satoru—sometimes it felt easier to leave them untouched, forgotten. As it should be. 

You glanced at your son, unsure of how to explain the complicated web of emotions that tangled inside you. “I thought... it was for the best,” you said quietly, voice soft as you searched for something that sounded right. His question was too sudden to be given a decent answer. “You know your Dad and I just couldn’t make it work. And for you, for us, it was better this way.”

Sachiro nodded slowly as if he already knew the answer, yet his fingers tightened around the mug. You could see the way he was processing your words, as if he was hoping for better reasoning. He had never even known the sibling he had lost until recently, the gap that finally forced his father out of your lives. Sachiro only saw the quiet love that both his parents shared, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of you.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if my sibling were here?” he asked, clearly inciting. “If you kept her, mom. Would she be celebrating with us tonight?”

You felt the ache in your chest as the question landed. You knew Sachiro’s question came from a place of grudge, aiming really well at a spot that hurt the most. And it did good at bringing you a pang of grief from a memory you had tried to bury long ago. You weren’t numb. Of course the loss still stung, even all these years later.

“I think about it all the time,” you murmured, unable to hide the shame in your voice. “What she would’ve been like. How she would’ve looked like. But... I don’t want to remember, Sachiro. I’ve made peace with it.”

But he wasn’t done. “Then, why didn’t you try again?” His voice was so gentle, yet so curious. “Why didn’t you remarry anyone else? I mean... Dad’s married to someone else now. And they’re having another baby. Shouldn’t that be a sign?”

The words felt like a stab to your chest, your heart shattering with an emotion you couldn’t name. Satoru’s life had moved on without you, far far too long ago, yet every reminder of it still cut deep. 

“I’m happy for him,” you said softly, the words stuck in your throat. “But that doesn’t mean I want the same outcome for myself. It’s... complicated.”

Marrying someone else again was not in your books. 

You could feel the intensity of Sachiro’s gaze on you, as if waiting for more. But you didn’t have more to give. You didn’t know how to explain the parts of you that had been shattered, the pieces that had never fully healed. Even if your own son hated you for it. 

“I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Sachiro said, turning away from you, his gaze landing on the Christmas tree. “I want you to have what you deserve. When I have my own family someday, I don’t want you to be spending your Christmas all alone.”

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you loved him, how much you would do for him. How hard it was to move on, how hard it was to see his father moving on with someone else. But the words needn’t be said. At least, not for tonight. 

And then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The world around you shifted, and the warmth of the fire and the smell of Christmas began to dissolve. Suddenly, you were back in your bed, heart pounding recklessly in the darkness.

You woke up eyes wide in surprise, until the reality of your room finally made sense to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself. It was a dream. It was all a dream. 

Sighing, you let your head fall into your hands. And just for a moment, you let yourself mourn the future you would never have. The family you would never see, the happiness you could never quite reach.

But as the soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the silent night, you slowly allowed yourself to breathe. Tomorrow would come. But tonight, you would let the dream linger just a little longer.

[bunnyhugs77]

Daddy Daycare

Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Part: 1, 2, 3

Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.

Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.

"And the kiss. Oh, Vanessa, the kiss was something else!" You exclaim, helping to set up the Christmas decorations around the class.

It was only the day after Thanksgiving which means the Christmas season was now in full swing. Stepping up on the small stepping stool to hang the green tinsel over the whiteboard.

"It sounds like you had a good night. What's the problem then?" Vanessa sets up the miniature Christmas tree in the corner.

"I did. Everything was going so well. Dare I say perfectly, until his phone was going off non stop from someone named Hanna saying things like 'when am I gonna see you again' and 'I can't stop thinking about our night together'"

Vanessa gasps. "So what did Jungkook say?" You chew on our bottom lip, "He was putting Ryan to bed in the other room, so he wasn't there when I saw those messages pop up." She tsks.

"I tried to tell you. Nothing good comes from dealing with a parent." You sighed heavily, looking out the window at the playground that was covered in a thick white blanket of snow.

"I know, but I couldn't help it. Him and his stupid smile and his pretty eyes." Vanessa hums smugly. "I'm sure Hanna thinks the same thing." You groan. She's right.

"You're right, I shouldn't get involved. She could be the mother of his child for all I know."

"For your own sake. You better pray she's not. Ex's are a royal pain in the-"

"Good Morning." Vanessa interrupts her own words as she greets the parents that walked in.

Crouching near the bookshelf while you organized the fallen books, from the corner of your eye you were able to pick up on the entrance of your minor headache. Not Ryan, of course, his father.

Ryan was just a sweetheart who greeted you with a hug so tight that he'd knocked you out of your crouched position onto your bum. "Ryan! Be careful." You'd never heard Jungkook's voice so stern. You make sure the boy is okay and help him back to his feet before moving your hair back to where it should be.

"Sorry, Ms. Hill." He apologizes with those big brown eyes that he clearly gets from his dad. "It's okay, I'm fine." You reassure with a smile and he runs off.

Jungkook offers you his hand to help you up but you stand on your own, dusting off your jeans with a clearing of your throat. "Are you okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I promise. I landed on the carpet."

"That's not what I meant." He says.

Taking a quick glance around the classroom, noticing some parents still making their way in and out of the classroom and the kids making their way to their seats. "You know, now really isn't a good time-" About to move out of his way, he steps in front of you.

Instinctively your eyes rolled, trying to remember what Vanessa told you. Not to get involved. "I know you saw the texts. Let me explain." You shake your head, "It's none of my business, there's nothing to explain. You should get going. I wouldn't want you to be late for work."

With that said, you walk away, heading towards the desks where your students waited patiently for instruction.

Jungkook walked out of the daycare that day deflated and unable to think about anything aside from you, and that look in your eyes. Like you were disappointed, as if you had high hopes for him and he let you down.

He thought he could just move past it, maybe even accept that things wouldn't work out between the two of you, but seeing you everyday, smiling with all the other parents and giving him nothing more than a simple head acknowledgement was killing him.

As much as he wanted to explain himself, he didn't want to force himself into your life. He wanted you to want to hear him out, even if that meant the two of you not talking much or at all for a few weeks then he was going to have to be okay with that.

But there were some days he had to physically restrain himself from breaking the no-contact. He remembers the day vividly. It was the first week back from winter break, maybe he was so pent up because he hadn't been able to see you for two weeks or if it was how good you looked in your leggings.

All he knows is that somewhere between that mix and you squatting to pick something from off the ground, for the briefest of seconds he'd caught sight of the strappy black thong that rose over your hips before they were hidden once again under your bottoms.

No one would've noticed it. No one that wasn't mildly obsessed with you that is. He quickly sent Ryan off and left for work. Managing to somehow squeeze in 13 hours of work into an 8 hour shift, he'd overcompensated as a means to distract himself.

"So you guys just haven't talked since you shooed him?" Vanessa asks for clarification, wrapping her scarf securely around her neck, getting ready to head out after offering you a ride which you couldn't object to, weather conditions were worsening as you were entering the heart of winter in the middle of January.

"I didn't shoo him, but I definitely would've handled things differently if I knew he would start avoiding me. I didn't want things to end like this." You explain, digging your hands deep into your pockets the moment the two of you stepped outside. The chilling air blew in your hair and around your earmuffs with determination.

You strapped yourself in passenger seat, "So you didn't actually want things to end?" With your head laying back on the headrest you puffed out a stressed breath, unintentionally making a small circle of condensation on your window. Like a child you drew a little heart in the middle.

"I thought I did, y'know? Wanted to do what you said and stay away, but maybe I got hasty." She hums oddly, making a ominous "Mhm" sound. "What does that mean?" She pulls out of the parking lot slowly, the snow was really falling tonight, laying on the ground in thick increments.

"Nothing." Turning to face her with your body, "No, no. Say it."

"I've been here. You know I've been here, I've been in a very similar position, but I did somehow manage to get a decent outcome, but things could've gotten much worse, not just for the relationship but for his kid at the time. So, I guess what I'm saying is, take this little break to really think about if this is the kind of thing you want to get yourself involved in."

You nodded, sitting with your hands in your lap like an obedient child. Really taking what Vanessa was saying into deep consideration. Deciding to reflect on it for the rest of the car ride to your building.

"What a day." You sigh, as you drop your keys onto the small counter you kept near the door.

The first thing you noticed was how cold it was inside your apartment, as if trying to compete with the flurrying outdoors. "Why is it so cold in here?" You whisper to yourself.

Flicking on the lights, or at least that's what you wanted. "What the--" the switch flies up then down then up again with the tip of your finger as you restlessly try to turn the lights on. "You've got to be joking."

Wrapping yourself tighter into your jacket as you walk through your dark apartment, relying on the sheer memorization of the layout to get you to the bathroom where you tried turning on the tap. Nothing.

The pipes must've frozen. and the snowstorm blew out your power.

This was great news for you, you'd always loved the movie Frozen and now you get to experience it first hand!!

"You've reached the voicemail box of--"

"Fuck you!" You shout at your phone after 5 hours and the twelfth attempt you'd made at calling your landlord. He's always been an asshole but ignoring his tenants when they were freezing to death is an all new low even for him.

You'd managed to wrap yourself in a blanket burrito surrounded by the 4 candles you were able to light before your hands began to freeze. Your body was barely managing to keep warm until you remembered the small cheap space heater you'd bought from a thrift store a few years back.

But it was buried deep in your closet. However, it took you no time to find it as you dug through the mountains of miscellaneous objects and finally pulled it out from the bottom.

Rushing to plug it in with desperation. Then you remembered. There was no power. As badly as you wanted to scream and toss the heater across your dimly lit room, you didn't. Instead you sat quietly in your burrito and began to cry.

What if this was it?

Tomorrow your students would find out their teacher had frozen to death. Were you being dramatic? You weren't even sure. You're not even sure how they would react, but you're sure the parents would be shocked- and Jungkook.

Jungkook.

"Jungkook!" You gasp. Your freezing hands reaching for your phone, trying to type in his number as fast as you could but your joints felt like they were dead locked in place and moved 1 key per minute.

The phone began to ring, and ring,,,

On the other end of the line, Jungkook was also having a pretty rough night. Laying on his bed with his bare stomach facing the ceiling eyes wide open and his brain a never ending circus.

He tried to focus on his breathing, but he couldn't sleep.

He hasn't been able to get a good sleep for a few months now.

Turning on his side he looked at the picture of him and Ryan at his third birthday party. He was so much smaller then. 'I looked so happy' he thinks to himself with a sad smile on his face.

Beginning to wish that Ryan was with him in that moment but he knew it was for the best that he'd dropped him at his parents' for the weekend. He was beginning to enter one of those episodes and he couldn't stop it, no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how hard he tries to.

Ryan deserved a father who could be happy all the time-- He sits up. Holding his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. Erasing those thoughts- trying to. Slowly letting his vision roam back to his night stand drawer where he kept his pills.

God, was it always going to be like this?

Lifelessly he reached for the handle and pulled it open, his hands blindly reaching for the cylindrical bottle and unscrewing the cap taking the recommended dose before putting it away.

He lays back down with a soft grunt, staring up at the ceiling tumultuously. Resting his hands on his firm core, focusing on the way it rises and falls with every breath, thinking about the day it stops. The day he's no longer sentenced to the time he's currently serving in his own mind-

"I should try to get some sleep" He mumbles to no one in particular.

His eyes shoot open after a mere 3 seconds of being closed. He listens to it ring, ring and ring, not sure he's in the mood to be taking any calls right now.

Though, it may be his parents with an emergency. He finds himself rolling onto his stomach, more than shocked to see your name pop up on his phone.

"Hello?"

"H-Hi! It's me. I'm sorry if I woke you up," Your voice was refreshing, like the first ray of sunshine after a dark and stormy night or the smell of fresh coffee in the morning.

"No, you didn't wake me. What's up?" You weren't sure if you were looking too deep into things but he sounded different. His voice was flatter, none of that familiar bubbly hint to be found in it, then again, It was nearly one in the morning.

"You probably don't remember but you gave me your card, and said if I ever had any technical issues I could give you a call," your teeth were chattering, prompting you to wrap yourself even tighter.

"I remember." How could he forget.

"Yea! Well, my apartment has no power or running water, so its pretty cold over here, and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks on how to get something to work."

He sits up abruptly. "What?"

"Yeah, my landlord is pretty shitty and hasn't answered my calls, I'm not even sure if maintenance is available or even knows about the situation themselves." You hear some muffling on the other end assuming he'd dropped his phone but it was actually Jungkook rushing to put on a shirt.

"Hello?" you say blankly, wondering if you'd lost connection.

"It's a fucking snowstorm outside. You'll freeze." You laugh, and that stops him in his tracks for a moment, "Oh I know, I'm getting a little taste of that right now actually. Do you by any chance know what the first signs of frostbite are?"

"Send me your address, I'm coming to get you."

"No, Jungkook. I wont let you do that, the roads are terrible." He doesn't respond, or maybe he does, you couldn't hear over the sound of keys jingling.

Clearly it was useless trying to change his mind, and the last thing you'd want is for him to go out of his way for nothing so you sent him your address.

What would usually be 15 minute drive had turned into 40 with the poor weather conditions but it wasn't any more than an hour before you heard knocking on your door.

Still wrapped in your thick blankets you opened it.

"Are you alright? How do you feel?" Jungkook inspects you, taking your hands in his, "You're ice cold." He says, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing his hand warmers in yours. "Keep those, they'll help you warm up." He insists.

"Do you have everything?" You nod while briefly raising your overnight bag. "Okay, let's go."

The drive over was silent, you somehow managed to fit your seatbelt over your jacket and blanket that you couldn't part with. Jungkook periodically looked over to se if you were okay, never actually saying anything but the concern in his eyes was evident with every glance.

The first step inside his place gave you chills, the good kind, finally. Not the ones that left you shaking for warmth. It was so warm, Jungkook took your bag while walking you towards the living room as he turned on the fireplace, suggesting you warm up before doing anything else.

"Here," He hands you a warm mug of hot chamomile with a bit of honey for sweetness. "Thank you, Jungkook. For everything." You say sincerely, afraid you'd be repaying him for all the times he'd saved your ass in this life and the next.

"Don't mention it." Unwilling to accept such a humble response, "No. I'm serious. I disturbed your night, and you dropped everything to help me." He smiles for the first time all night, it was a small one but it was still a smile.

"I told you, already. I wasn't doing anything. I'm actually glad you called, it was nice to get out of my head for a bit." your head tilts unconsciously at that last part. "Nevermind." Checking his watch, it was nearly three in the morning.

"I set up your stuff in my room. It's getting pretty late, you should get some rest." Your eyes were feeling pretty heavy now that he mentioned it, you didn't fight it. Slowly standing from the pile of throw overs you'd buried yourself underneath making your way upstairs.

"Wait." You pause at the first step.

"Where's Ryan?" You should've realized sooner, but what could you say, you were a bit wrapped up earlier. Literally. "He's at his grandparents, probably snoring right now as we speak." You smile.

You'd gotten ready, taking a much needed shower and tying your hair back into two braids so that they would have some soft waves for tomorrow.

You sat cross legged on Jungkook's bed with your MacBook on your lap as you went through some of the classroom picture's you were yet to send to parents from the Winter Wonderland Concert the daycare had put on last week.

"Hey," Your head snaps up to see Jungkook peeking his head through the door, "I just wanted to say Goodnight." He says and you smile, but you'd just come across something you're sure he would love to see.

"Come look at this video of Ryan singing his interpretation of the opera singer we had perform last week." Jungkook sits beside you on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him.

He paused when he turned to look at you, "What?" Your face is puzzled at his concentrated expression. "I didn't know you wore glasses?" He says and it reminds you that this was the first time he'd seen you with lenses on, or anyone for that matter.

"Yeah, I usually wear contacts-- Look! This is the part," You get distracted as the video begins to play. And somehow one video turns into five and the computer slides off your lap into the gap between the both of you as your head laid against his padded shoulder.

You'd fallen asleep. Slowly Jungkook closes the laptop and places it on the nightstand, even more carefully removing your glasses and placing them on top of the stowed away device.

Letting you down gently until your head hits the pillow, he sneakily begins to slip out of your grasp. "Stay." You say, your eyes closed and body still. Maybe he was hearing things. He shakes it off and begins to step away.

"Please, m'Cold." You mumble into the pillow with your eyes still shut.

"Do you want me to turn up the heat?" He offers like the gentleman he is, for the first time he saw a sign of consciousness as you slightly shake your head. "I want you to stay, please?"

He was nervous. Settling himself under the convers with you, remaining as far as possible and turning off the bedside lamp. Within two minutes his body froze as you'd rolled over from your side until your head was on his chest.

He wonders if you could feel the way his heart was racing.

you could.

"Relax," you quip, half-awake. Oddly enough, that actually does help him to relax, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist for comfort. Feeling your body against his didn't trigger his perversions as he once thought it would.

It felt so much better than that. He felt, comfortable. The way your body radiated a calming heat onto him and reassured him that someone was both physically and emotionally present was just enough to lull him to sleep.

As the night morphed into a radiant sunrise you began to stir in your sleep. Your limbs stretching across the the grey sheets and soft blankets while the tips of your fingers roamed the surface.

Slowly remembering where you were and realizing you were in the bed alone. Though you specifically remember going to sleep with him. When did he get up?

Tugging down the leg of your sweatpants that had rolled up at the ankle at some point during your blissful sleep. Rubbing your eyes as you stepped into the bathroom to brush your teeth before finally following that pleasant scent that was wafting around the house.

"Still avoiding me?" You joke as you laid your eyes on Jungkook's broad back that was facing you as he flipped pancakes. He turns to you with a lopsided smile.

"Avoiding you?" Nodding, letting your hands trace the back of the chair before taking a seat at the island, watching him.

"Yeah, you've been avoiding me since thanksgiving." His brows furrow then raise in a mix of confusion and astonishment. "Me? I have not been avoiding you. I was giving you space."

Bracing your hands down on the countertop you shake your head. "Yes you have. Every day you see me and just leave, not a good morning or anything."

Jungkook flips this battered treat a little harder than he should. "Yeah, because the last time I had tried to talk to you, you made it pretty clear you didn't want to talk, so why would I force it?"

You sigh. Vanessa was right, maybe you did shoo him. "I didn't mean to disregard you so inconsiderately, I was just-- I don't know what I was feeling in that moment, honestly." He turns to face you once again, leaning back on the counter.

"I know, that's why I wanted to explain myself." Your eyes watch his buff chest raise and fall as he takes a deep breath, "My eyes are up here." He points between the two of you, and you felt like you could just fall over and die.

You clear your throat, deciding that you simply couldn't make eye contact with him at all after that!

He notices your embarrassed body language, "Hey, I was just joking, I don't mind your eyes wandering a little." He teases and it somehow made your face even hotter, you were afraid you would burst into flames.

"Just-Just go back to what you were saying." You almost plead as you run a hand through your wavy hair.

Jungkook plates the last pancake on to your elegantly presented plate, before sliding it in front of you. Making a plate for himself he decides to eat standing up in front of you with his plate on the counter you could maintain direct eye contact.

"I met Hana about a year ago at Ryan's old school before we switched here. She's another parent I'd met at one of their events. I was going through a lot of shit back then, so relationships were the furthest thing from my mind but one night about 6 months ago, our kids were away at a summer camp for 2 days; and after a few play dates over the prior months, she'd called me to let me know that Ryan had left one of his toys at her place. So I went to pick it up, but we ended up talking, had a few drinks and one thing led to another and then shit hit the roof." He sighs before taking a bite of his breakfast, which is delicious by the way.

Your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, subconsciously of course but Jungkook took it as an indication to explain. "I made sure it was clear to her it was just a one time thing and she agreed. For the first few weeks I thought we were on the same page, but then she started calling me and leaving these... desperate voicemails. After that I already knew I wouldn't be be bringing Ryan back to that preschool, besides their teachers were terrible." You nod, no longer eating as the story kept you fed and engaged.

"At first I thought she would stop over time, but she didn't. It only got worse, so I finally called her back to let her know she needed to stop but she wanted to have the conversation in person, which sounded reasonable to me at the time, but I should've seen right through it because low and behold, the same mistake was made, once again."

"Wait," You pause him, "So when did you guys hook up the second time?" His eyes look up to the ceiling as though the answer was written on it, "Sometime around the end of August, just a few weeks before school started." The twinge of jealousy that bubbled in your stomach was undeniable but you had no right to be jealous. He literally had no idea you existed at the time.

"And she kept calling your phone all the way until Thanksgiving?" you say with a weird tone, unsure how Jungkook would've let her continue to bother him for so long. Almost with shame he nods,

"I kept saying I would get around to cutting her off once and for all, but I went to a pretty dark place, y'know how life can get sometimes. I didn't care much for anything at all, but when I saw what it had done to us," he gestures between the two of you, "I realized my negligence was driving away people that were important to me, and I didn't want to lose you. So I had ended things with her once and for all shortly after new years. Y'know, wanting to start off the year fresh and shit like that."

You swallow, "I had no idea, you were going through such a hard time." You say almost sadly but maintain the soft smile on your face. A similar one creeping onto his face, "Well then that's good. Means the antidepressants are doing their job." He chuckles and you didn't know whether to laugh along or be concerned.

"It's okay Y/n, you can laugh." You smile, "I-I just don't know what to say. All this time I was thinking I was some kind of home-wrecker or that you were seeing someone else, but to hear you explain what was actually going on makes me feel like such an idiot."

Jungkook scoffs jokingly, "Homewrecker? If Ryan's mother was still in the picture, a 'homewrecker' would be exactly what I would need, and a bullet to the head if I'm being honest." he shakes his head, remembering what he describes as the worst time in his life. Your hand boldly clasps over your mouth stifling a laugh at his dramatic expression.

He laughs, "I'm serious, though." His smile fades, "Those are seven years I can never get back." You flinch at the number, that's almost a decade. Calculations begin to roll around your head autonomously. "So-" You begin to say but he already knew where you were going with this.

"We met at 15, had Ryan at 21 unexpectedly, but no regrets of course, and broke up at 22, thank god." Releasing a calming breath of air as he says that last part, clearly they didn't end on good terms if he feels so at peace every time he mentions her absence.

"But that's enough about me for the day. How's your apartment? Any updates on the power?" You shake your head, digging back into your food, "Hopefully it should be fixed by tonight, I'd hate to over stay my welcome." Jungkook rolls his eyes, "You know I want you here more than anything, and I'm not letting you go back to your place until things are up and running again."

You didn't bother fighting him on it, you knew it would be you fighting a losing battle so you let him have it.

It would be a lie to say that you didn't enjoy your lazy Saturday with Jungkook, the two of you lounged around the house talking the day away. You watched breaking bad and kept saying that you had to stop to do some schedule planning for the kids but you couldn't seem to leave the couch, or his arms. "Just one more episode" becoming a meaningless statement.

He was seriously invested in your stories from your travels in Europe over the summer, expressing how he dreams to visit one day.

Time seemed to have zoomed for the next 3 hours, now bringing you to a dark sky and the crackling fireplace keeping you warm as you played a childish round of truth or drink.

The two of you sat comfortably on the carpet with the game cards stacked neatly on the coffee table which was also responsible for holding your shot glasses.

Your chest was already warm from the consequences of three passed questions while Jungkook only had passed two.

"Your turn," your voice bubbly and excited as you pick up the card for Jungkook, flipping it over to ask him. "What's something you've never told anyone?" He sits there, and you can see he really thinks about it. Glancing back and forth between the shot glass and the card in your hand.

"I'm a millionaire." He says it so casually, with a bit of booze in your brain you begin to die of laughter. "Yeah, me too." You snicker, slwoly beginning to quiet down as you realize he wasn't laughing with you.

"Oh my god, are you being serious?" He shrugs, "I guess so. Remember when I said I was going through a lot of shit a year ago? Well part of that stems from me getting some cryptic ass letter that basically announced the death of some rich guy who claimed to be my biological father and left me his inheritance."

You sit there quietly, "I showed my parents the letter as a gag, expecting to get a good laugh out of it and that turned out to be one of the most depressing conversations I'd ever endured." Jungkook honestly wasn't sure why he was telling you all this, he'd told you things today he never thought he'd share with anyone but there was something that let him feel like he could be open with you.

"So you're telling me, you found out you were adopted and suddenly a millionaire on the same day." A slow nodding of his head was all it took for you to see he clearly wasn't thrilled about it. "I still haven't touched the money, really. Although I did use it to cover my parents' mortgage for the next few years. I don't really know what to do with the rest of it."

A small hum escapes your throat as you ponder, "If you ever feel like it's a burden to you, don't hesitate to just pass it on to me. It'll be hard but I'm sure I could think of something to do with it." His head falls back as his body shakes slightly with his laughter, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Your turn," He says, hands reaching to flip over a card as he reads it out to you. "How many people have you slept with?" He makes a certain face at the card as if he was displeased. "This is a bit invasive, do you want me to pick up another one?" You shrug, "I don't mind answering. It's one."

"Like one this year?" It slips out before he can catch it, and he regrets it, you can tell. "No. Just one person, ever. My ex. I'm not really one to have any sexcapades. I have a rule." You're sure if he had bunny ears, one would flop up in curiosity. "Oh?"

"I never go all the way with someone until at least six months of dating them so I can see that they're all in for the right reasons. hence why only one has made it so far. Everyone else usually thinks they can like persuade me three months in." Suddenly your throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. "Is that a deal breaker for you?" Intently you watched the way he played with the ring hooped in his bottom lip with a serious expression.

"Are you saying we're dating, Y/n?" A teasing smirk spreads across his lips. You look away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze on your from a mere foot away. "If that's okay with you-" A gentle hand cups your jaw as he turns you to face him, taking your breath away with a sweet kiss. His lips were as soft as you remembered them to be.

You could feel a certain shift in the kiss, turning from gentle and sweet to something a little deeper. It were as though there were magnets between your bodies, you found yourselves impossibly close to the point Jungkook forced himself to pull away from you, only to welcome you to straddle his hips.

"I'm okay with that." he grins before resuming his passionate attack on your lips.

2:04am

Your glasses were on and your hair was up, that was a sign that it was time for you to finally go to sleep yet here you were. Sitting up at the table with a stack of files you'd brought from your place that you needed to go through.

The border around your eyes were tinted red as you strained to stay up and finish, but you weren't even close.

"You're still up?" Jungkook says softly as he comes down in nothing but his black sweatpants. "I could ask you the same thing." Hardly sparing him a glance as you write down numbers onto the papers.

"You know I don't sleep much ever since I got my prescription. I can get 3-4 hours at night if I'm lucky." You frown, finally looking up at him, proud of yourself for not letting your jaw hit the floor as you patrolled him as he went to fill a glass of water from the fridge.

You knew he had a sleeve of tattoos, it was one of the first things you'd noticed about him, but you had no idea his back had its own art as well. The sleeve of tattoos that creeped over the back of his shoulder as it morphed into the most beautiful pair of inked angel wings that spread out across the expanse of his upper back.

You swallowed, shaking away your filthy thoughts. "What's got you up so late?" He leans over you to get a glimpse at the papers. "Regulatory compliances." It was so cute when he was confused. "Basically I have to cross reference the curriculum with our lesson plans and report that everything we're doing is aligned with the boards' outline." It dawns on him in the form of a soft 'ah'.

"When does this have to be done by?"

"Wednesday," It comes out with a rough tone and exhausted groan, you were clearly stressed. "Okay, Y/n, it's only Sunday. How about you put a pin in it and get some rest, hm?" Warm hands are placed on your shoulders and you nearly fall asleep right there but you shake your head, "I'm fine, I can keep going-" You yawn for what must be the 4th time since Jungkook came down.

"Okay, That's it. Come on, we're going to bed." He closes your files and takes your hand, letting you hop out of the chair and follow him up the steps debatably against your will as you're sure you would've given up no longer than 15 minutes later.

The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. Jungkook chuckles to himself softly at the thought that you truly tried to argue that you weren't tired.

He slips in beside you, loving the way your body naturally detected him and began to roll over towards him just like you did the night before, slotting yourself into his side. Once again, your warmth and the soft feeling of your heartbeat on his ribcage mixing together, prompting his brain to release enough melatonin until his eyes closed.

-

"Good news." Is the first thing you say as you walk into the living room at 2pm after your well needed shower. "The power is working again at my place," Jungkook pouts at what he took as bad news, he was not-so-secretly hoping you would be staying a little longer.

"Don't look so sad, you see me literally every day." the dimple in your right cheek making a brief appearance as you smiled, making your way over to him on the couch.

"I know, but I really like having you here." You poke his cheeks that puffed up with his sad expression. "If you want to see me a little longer, then would you be okay with giving me a ride back to my place?"

He scoffs, "It's funny you thought I wasn't going to drop you off in the first place." he leans forward to drop a quick peck to your lips catching you off guard before bouncing up out of his spot, hardly giving you a chance to process.

The two of you making comfortable conversation with small giggles as you begin to put your jackets on, preparing to return you back to your apartment. Tugging your hat on with a firm pull before you picked up your bag and declared that you were ready to go.

Jungkook opened the door, stepping out with you closely behind him. Not sure if your eyes were blinded by the gleaming light that was reflected off the snow or the bright flashes of light emitted from the dozens of paparazzi camped outside the driveway.

Jungkook's name was shouted from various different people as they waved to get his attention as if being outside his front door wasn't alarming enough. Jungkook's face had been covered in disbelief just like yours, but differently he was able to shake it off and maintain his composure.

Taking your hand in a reassuring manner, he continued his path down the steps, whispering to you to keep your head down as you followed behind him. "Is it true that you're the secret son of the late business tycoon Jeon Jaehoon?" The woman holds a microphone to Jungkook, looking for an answer, and she most certainly got one.

"How about you ask me again when I make sure you're all behind bars for trespassing and harassment hm? How does that sound?" The flashes finally stop and some photographers begin to leave, Jungkook doesn't even wait for them all to leave, trusting that he got his point across clearly and makes his way to the drivers seat.

Once the doors closed it was as though you'd trapped in a foot deep layer or tension within it. Jungkook's chest rises slowly, flared nostrils and tensed brows before a slow and agitated exhaled. "It wasn't you right?" He asks.

Your posture straightens as you face him.

"What?"

"Tell me that it's all just a coincidence, Y/n. I tell you about the inheritance last night and suddenly there's paparazzi buzzing outside my house today?" Your head juts back, offended. "Are you implying that I told someone what you told me in confidence last night? Are you being serious right now?"

"I'm paranoid, okay? I'm sorry."

You sigh. As pissed as you wanted to be, you had to see it from his perspective. A swarm of paparazzi showing up less than than 24 hours after he shares the information with the first person outside his family doesn't exactly work in your favour.

"It's fine, I get it. I'd be paranoid too." He starts the car, leaving his now vacated lot behind. "Then who would do this?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

-

The following day was as hectic as any other day but you loved your job. Working with such big personalities that were bursting out their small bodies.

But you did love the end of the day too, sayin goodbye and mentally preparing for some relaxation when you finally got home. All day you'd be fantasizing about drawing a nice warm bath with eucalyptus and lavender oils.

You thought of it as the perfect way to wind down after a long day. Although seeing Jungkook's face for a few minutes while he picked up Ryan.

"I'm here to pick up my son." You turn around with a smile, to the new and unfamiliar face. She was tall with dark long locks that were curled at the ends, her heels were high and her face was looked like it belonged billboards and magazines.

You were a bit confused, you'd never seen her before, and you're sure you'd remember someone that brought in such a domineering aura the way she did.

"Sure, if you don't mind me asking who you are." You wanted to remain as polite as possible not wanting to offend her.

"I'm Ryan's mother."

Tags; @talyaaas-blog, @chaconnelatte, @tokkiggukie, @skzthinker, @fangirls94, @xumyboo, @sugakookie132, @katsels, @appleh4ad, @cassies-cookies, @cassies-cookies, @bangtans-momma, @kissyfacekoo, @coralmusicblaze, @busanbby-jjk, @hrndez2008, @looneybleus, @gimeow, @jungkookslittlecarrothoe, @aiselle90210, @jungkookieeee97, @aloverga, @lovelytaes-blog. @itstiredteenager0207, @keiarajm, @junecat18, @nellyboosworld, @imaginethatblog, @gyukookswhore, @chxnb97, @jeodoll, @parkinglot-nights, @jjk97091, @rahullhere, @chaewonsrealgf, @thehxoe, @lpgirl2324, @coconchanel, @minaamhh .

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Secrets ♡

♡ Pairing: sugar daddy!yeosang x chubby!fem!sugar baby!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Summary: It's your anniversary and everything's going wonderfully with the man of your dreams until you're forced to spill a secret you've been hiding for a long time. You've always wanted a family with him but never pushed the issue, knowing it's something he wouldn't be interested. But you might just be surprised what he's willing to do and how eager he is to do it.

♡ Word Count: 3.4k-ish

♡ Warning: discussions of pregnancy/motherhood, breeding kink, nipple play, unprotected sex, fingering, rough sex, yeosang has some dom vibes at time, spanking, pet names (mommy/daddy/baby), hair pulling, creampie, and that's about all.

♡ A/N: I wrote this as a request for @rems-writing who I adore to pieces. I really hope that I did justice to your request, my love. It was really fun to write and is only worsening the fact that Yeosang is wrecking me these days so thank you for that.

In the beginning things were different. Yeosang was your sugar daddy. He was there to spoil you beyond your wildest dreams, giving you everything your heart desired. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. In return he got you, however and whenever he wished to have you. But overtime, as all things do, the situation grew more complicated than either of you planned.

One day you woke up to find that you weren’t reaching for your phone to call him about the newest pair of shoes you had your eye on, you just needed to hear the sound of his voice. And Yeosang found himself caring less and less if seeing you led to anything sexual. He was more than happy to simply have you in his arms.

You both had, against all of your better judgment, fallen completely in love with each other. It’s been 3 years since you both broke down and admitted this was far deeper than something transactional. 3 years down to the day that you decided to truly be together and neither of you have regretted it for a moment. 

Staring lovingly at your gorgeous side profile as the two of you navigate your way through the crowded lantern festival, Yeosang can’t imagine ever regretting being with a girl like you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted and more. With your hand securely held in his, he feels like he’s got the very center of his universe in the palm of his hands. That’s why he did everything in his power to make this anniversary special for you.

There was the breakfast in bed that he spent all morning whipping up himself. The shopping spree that almost cleaned out your favorite store. A four course meal at a lavish restaurant overlooking the water. And now a starlit walk through a breathtaking lantern festival where gorgeous neon sculptures illuminate the night. You stare at them in awe the same way you have every single thing he’s placed in front of you today. You’re sincerely happy and that’s the only thing he wants in this world. 

“Yeo, look at that! Isn’t it beautiful?” you beam, dragging him over to a tree sprinkled with dozens of fluorescent cherry blossoms. They twinkle overhead, bathing you in a soft pink light that makes you glow. You’re so ethereal in his eyes that he doesn’t even care that you nearly yanked his arm off to get him over here. 

“Yes, it’s beautiful, baby,” he laughs, his voice soft and deep. You’re the cutest when you get like this over things and he can’t help but be tickled when that childlike excitement comes out. 

“And what’s so funny?” you frown, your nose wrinkling adorably. 

Despite a half hearted attempt at holding it in, your bratty nature only makes him laugh harder. “You’re just so cute. I can’t help it” he says, pulling you into his arms and attacking your cheek with the sweetest of kisses. 

“Kang Yeosang, you’re being a very bad boy right now” you giggle, spinning around and straight into a kiss on the lips that has you blushing so hard your cheeks are heating up. 

He leans into your neck, lips tickling their way up to your ear. “I can be much worse,” he whispers, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Feeling your mind stray to places a little too obscene for public, you pull away from Yeosang and find a tiny human staring up at you with tears in her eyes. 

“Mommy!” a girl no older than 4 or 5 cries, tugging on your dress. She’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen with her teddy bear and her pigtails. It breaks your heart to see her crying. 

“Hey, honey. Did you lose your mommy?” you ask, kneeling down to comfort her. Now face to face with you, she realizes that you aren’t her mommy and throws an even bigger fit. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetie” you coo, patting her on the shoulders. She throws herself into your arms and you automatically wrap your arms around her, letting her know that she’s safe with you. Your gaze darts to a panicked Yeosang for help. You know kids aren’t really his thing but you could use the assist right now. 

Yeosang peeks at her over your shoulder and smiles in a goofy way that gets a giggle out of her. “Everything will be okay, sweetie” he reassures her, “We’ll find your, mommy.” Patting her on the head, he takes off into the crowd in search of her mom or a worker who can help. 

“That’s Yeosang, he’s a great finder” you say, balancing her on your hip like a pro. “I like your dress by the way” you throw in, noticing that you’re both wearing the same light green sundress only her version is much tinier and much more adorable. You figure this must be how she got you confused with her mom. You had no idea this dress was so popular when you brought it. 

Fascinated by the discovery, she begins to play with the fabric of your dress, her curiosity shifting to the shiny silver earrings dangling from your ears. They’re one of the many gifts that Yeosang surprised you with for your anniversary. As she marvels at the way they sparkle, the giggles overflow from her and your heart flutters. 

It’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to Yeosang but you’ve often wondered what it might be like to walk around a park like this. Yeosang by your side and a little one bouncing on your hip, giggling her life away. You’d love this more than anything that comes with a price tag but it’s a dream that you gave up long ago.

Yeosang made it clear from various throwaway comments he’s made over the past 3 years that kids aren’t in the cards for him. And, no matter how much it pains you, you have to accept it. Instead, you keep your dreams to yourself and cherish precious moments like this where you get a taste of motherhood, however faint. It’s bittersweet but sweet nonetheless. 

“Pretty” the little girl says, fidgeting with one of your earrings. 

“You like them?” you ask, smiling gently, “They were a gift from—”

“Sophia!” a woman yells, racing over to you with Yeosang not too far behind. Your suspicions were correct. She’s wearing the exact same dress as you with the added accessory of a few tears. 

“See. I told you he was a good finder” you whisper, handing her over to her relieved mother. 

“Honey, I was so worried,” the mother pants, struggling to catch her breath as she squeezes her daughter tightly. 

Yeosang returns to your side, placing a hand on your waist and giving you a look of admiration you’re too distracted to notice but it’s there. 

“Thank you so much for looking out for her” the mother says, laughing when she notices her daughter still holding onto your dress, “I think she likes you.”

Your face lights up at the adorable gesture and you pinch Sophia’s cheek playfully. “I like her too. You be good now, Sophia.”

“Bye!” Sophia waves, finally letting go of your dress. Her eyes are still glued to you as her mom mouths another silent “Thank you” and the two head off back to where they came from. 

You linger there for a moment, swirling in thoughts of what motherhood might be like. You’ve pushed it to the back of your mind for so long that you’d forgotten how deeply you yearned for it. It’s enough to keep you lost in thought until Yeosang takes your hand, snapping you out of it. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, knowing perfectly well that it isn't. You can’t hide your feelings from him, even if you think you can. When something’s upsetting you he can feel it. He knows your heart’s breaking. 

“It’s…it’s nothing” you say, setting your sights on another sculpture a good distance away. “Why don’t we go check that out?” You tug at his arm but this time he doesn’t let you drag him an inch. 

“Something’s wrong. Talk to me” he pleads, his face as serious as you’ve ever seen it. Yeosang’s typically playful and gentle with you, seldom showing his stubborn side but it’s out tonight and you know that arguing with him is a lost cause. 

You sigh, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact, “I can’t really talk about it here.”

“Then let’s go back to the car. We can talk there, okay?” He isn’t asking as much as he is telling you what’s about to happen.

It’s his turn to drag you along as he maneuvers you through crowds of families and lovey dovey couples to get to the car. All the while your stomach’s doing backflips at the thought of telling Yeosang the truth. You promised long ago that you’d always tell each other the truth, no matter how afraid you were, and you’d deal with the rest together. It’s a promise that you’ve never broken, not even for the smallest thing, but tonight lying seems more appealing than ever.

By the time you make it into the car your mind’s already been made up that he’ll leave you for this. Your 3rd anniversary will be your last one all because you couldn’t get over one silly thing. 

“So,” Yeosang says, the silence dancing between you becoming almost unbearable, “Are you gonna tell me what happened back there?”

He watches you with the kindest eyes and your heart breaks even more. This may be the last time he looks at you like that. You take a deep breath, soaking it in, your heart still toying with the idea of lying. 

“I want to be a mother” you blurt out, unable to keep it bottled up any longer.

It’s simultaneously terrifying and relieving to have that off of your chest after holding it in like a sneeze for the past 3 years. “I know you don’t want kids and I’m okay with that, I really am. It’s just that when I’m around kids like that, sometimes I…I don’t know.” You begin to tear up and Yeosang places a comforting hand on your leg. 

“Who said I didn’t want kids?” he asks so softly you almost think that you imagined it. 

“Uhm, you?” you sniffle, your bottom lip quivering. “You said that all kids do is poop and cry and make a mess of everything.”

Yeosang pulls his sleeve down, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Baby, I didn’t mean it that way. Well, I did mean that but not in that way. Yeah, all kids do is poop and cry and make a mess but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want a family with you.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. If it’s not what you want it’s not what you want.”

“Look at me” he demands, forcing you to meet his gaze, “I would love a family with you. Not because you cried but because that’s what I want. I just downplayed it because I thought you didn’t want it.”

“Oh my gosh, do I want it?” you say, perking up at the mere thought of it. “Tiny versions of us running around the house would be the best thing ever. Imagine going shopping for their little clothes and the family vacations. It’d be so cute. You’d make such a good dad, Yeo.”

There it is again. That childlike wonder that always brings a smile to his face. “And you’d make a wonderful mom. I only wish you would’ve told me sooner. I want a life with you and everything that comes along with it. Promise me you’ll never doubt that again.”

Yeosang extends his pinky to trap you into the legally binding pinky swear. You hook your pinky into his, rolling your eyes at how silly he can be. “I promise.”

“Good. Now here,” he says, handing you the aux cord, “Talk about it more when we get home?” 

You nod, skeptically taking the cord. It’s not his willingness to hand over control of the music to you that has you skeptical. Let’s be real, you always control the music anyway. What throws you off is how laid back he’s acting when he knows that you can read him as well as he reads you.

The entire ride home there’s the ghost of a smile on his face, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, as he nods along to your music like the conversation never happened. But the wheels are turning in his head, he’s thinking about something and not knowing exactly what is eating you up inside. 

Did he really mean what he said? Is a family really what he wants or was he just trying to please you? You once again recall your pact not to lie. It goes both ways and you have to trust him to stick to it. Still, as you pull into the driveway and he leads you up the stairs of your shared home, you feel in your gut that there’s more to it than he’s leading on. 

“Is now a good time?” he asks once you’ve made it safely into the dimly lit living room. 

You turn around, eyeing him curiously, “Is now a good time for what?” 

Yeosang steps towards you, tossing his keys onto the coffee table. “You said you wanted to start a family” he says, his eyes scanning over how well that dress fits your curves, “So tell me, is now a good time to start?”

“Yeosa—” you’re saying but your words are cut off by his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you passionately, his hands hungrily massaging your figure through your dress. Your head spinning from the kiss, you stumble backwards, finding yourself pinned between your boyfriend and the wall. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this” he confesses, hands slipping under your dress to massage your plush ass. “To just fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.”

His words set your body on fire, every fantasy you’ve had about this very moment flooding your brain. “Please, I want you to fill me up so badly. I need it” you beg, palming a bugle that only tightens with your desperate pleas.

“Fuck, baby” he groans, drowning you in another kiss. Locking his arms around your waist, he sweeps you up and takes you to the couch where you take control, straddling him as you grind down against his clothed cock. 

The heat between your bodies is as intense as the heat between your thighs, your pussy growing wetter by the second. Yeosang trails kisses down your neck, gripping your thighs to spread your legs wider. Your stiff clit bumps the strained zipper of his pants and you let out a moan pretty enough to taste.

“Fuck me” you whine, hips rocking, desperate for more friction. 

“Already?” he teases, dipping two fingers between your legs to stroke your leaking slit. Your panties are so drenched the cotton feels like velvet. So smooth and so saturated with your juices that his fingers just slide across them. 

“I want to know how wet you are first” he says, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Show me.” 

It takes every ounce of willpower to pull yourself off of him but you manage, standing up and turning around so that your ass is poking right in his face. Yeosang tears your dress up, kissing one of your ass cheeks while his free hand slaps the other. The sting makes you jump but the kisses are heavenly. A delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Bend over” he whispers, tugging your panties down as you bend over in front of him and spread your legs apart for him.

A sudden shyness overcomes you when you realize how exposed you are. At the same time your nipples stiffen against your bra knowing how hard he must be getting watching your cunt drip for him the way it does. 

His fingers meet your slit again and he hums in satisfaction, collecting your arousal on his fingertips. He pops them inside of you and you cry out, pressing your thighs together to feel them even better. 

“You’re clenching so tightly around my fingers, baby. You need to be bred that badly?” 

“Mmhmm” you gasp, fighting to stay upright as he spreads his fingers, scissoring in and out of your core. Your thighs are getting wetter and wetter,  your juices leaking between them the faster his fingers fuck into you.

Yeosang runs his tongue along your thighs, licking up the arousal that leaks out from around his fingers. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do. Use your words.”

“I want to have your babies. I want you to breed me” you moan like a melody and you’re snatched right back down into his lap, his cock buried deep inside of you before your brain has time to register it. 

Bringing your back flush against his defined chest, he thrusts into you with enough force for you to see stars. He’s feral, determined to ravage you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve had sex with him hundreds, if not thousands of times, up to this point but this time is so different. It’s the first time you’ve felt him raw inside of you and it’s pleasure beyond anything you could’ve ever dreamed of.

You feel everything. The head pulsing and leaking each time he bottoms out. The blood rushing through the veins that travel along his length, twitching when  you clench, swallowing him deeper. Behind you Yeosang’s losing his mind at how perfect your bare pussy feels wrapped around him. He can feel all of the ridges, feel how slippery wet your walls are while he fucks you. It’s almost too much to handle. 

Smoothing his hands up your sides, a hand finds its way to one of your breasts, pinching the bud through your dress. He rolls it between his fingers, the pressure just enough to keep your senses on edge. His other hand finds its way between your legs, working your clit in small circles.

It’s sensory overload being played with in so many ways. Your core being fucked in perfect rhythm, your sensitive nipples twisting between his fingers, and your puffy clit being overstimulated. It’s like you’re falling apart right here in his arms and he loves it. Every single minute of it. You milk his cock so well when you’re like this, his whining, drooling, teary eyed girl. 

“C…cum first. You” you stutter, throwing your head back. Your fingers find his hair again and you pull it harder this time, arching your back and fluttering your walls. “Fill me up, Yeosang.” 

You’re so cute when you’re needy, too cute to deny. Truth is, he’s been holding back. He wanted to cum the second his cock felt what you were like without a condom. All this time the pressure’s been building and holding it back has been unbearable. His heart set on giving you what you want, as always, he slides down further on the couch, hitting your sweet spot as he fucks into you harder. 

“You’re so pretty you know that?” he growls, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, “You’re gonna make such a pretty mommy, aren’t you?”

You tug at his hair, swirling your hips in his lap, “Yes, daddy.”

Your words are like magic. One final twitch of his cock and he’s spilling inside of you so hard that you can feel him painting your walls. You wanted to be full and you are. So full of his seed that it’s dripping from your pussy, leaking all over him. The fullness sends you crashing towards your high, your walls gripping him tighter than ever as you both shiver in each other’s arms. 

“Oh god, don’t stop” you moan, greedy for more of his cum. Lucky for you it’s still flowing and your pussy devours it, taking every drop until you’re both spent. Cradling you in his arms, Yeosang brushes your hair back out of your face and kisses your cheek, lulling you down from your high. 

“You know I meant that” he says, breathlessly.

“Meant what?” you ask, stroking the muscular arms responsible for keeping you upright. 

“You’ll make a great mom. I can’t wait to see it” he smiles, planting another kiss on your cheek. “We just gotta keep working on it. Ready to go again?”

“Sir, you’re insatiable! I need to get away from you!” you giggle, clumsily pulling away from him and hobbling towards the stairs. 

Yeosang chases after you, scooping you into his arms with a mischievous grin on his face, “Well how else are babies made, honey?” 

[lovegalor333]

Warm December

part three of paigemas

paige bueckers x reader

paige surprises you by staying in storrs for christmas so you’re not alone

⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆ ⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆ ⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆

The holiday season was a weird and complicated time for you. It came with a lot of bad memories since your mom died and home was the last place you wanted to be so the decision to stay in Storrs was an easy one. Your family were unbothered and didn’t have much to say when you broke the news. Your stepmom said she would save money not having to buy you gifts and your dad just grunted down the phone. A few years ago, this would have probably made you cry but you were used to your parents attitude now and you were grateful you went to college so far away from home.

It was December 21st and you had waved your roommates goodbye, cars full with wrapped presents and snacks you had packed for them. They both drove off in the falling snow, with Christmas music blasting from their speakers. Both girls tried to get you to go home with them, insisting their families would be happy to have an extra guest at their table but you weren’t one to impose and besides, you had a long list of books you wanted to read. The thought of bunkering down in your cosy apartment, spiced candles lit, a mug of hot tea in your hand and getting lost in a romance novel appealed to you more than you’d like to admit.

Before meeting your girlfriend, you lived vicariously through the relationships you read about. Fantasising about a love like Elizabeth Bennets and Mr Darcys. After being single your whole life, you were starting to believe that maybe love like that was entirely fictional and then along came Paige. Six foot tall, blonde, blue eyes and pure muscle. You and Paige had the most typical friends to lovers timeline. Having met through mutual friends, you quickly bonded over your Midwest roots and you both found yourselves wanting to spend more and more time together. You were both wildly oblivious to each other’s pining and it took one too many shots and a very calculated game of spin the bottle (thanks Azzi) for you to finally realise that you were on the same page.

Speaking of your girlfriend, she had also travelled home today. You said goodbye with tears in your eyes and one final kiss. “I’ll FaceTime you everyday.” Paige had said, “I want to know what happens at the end of Emma.” Paige loved listening to you talk about your current read, she insisted she cared about the storyline but with the way she looked at you, eyes soft and a small smile on her lips, you knew you could say absolutely anything and she’d listen intently.

The evening was drawing in and you had turned off all the big lights, your apartment lit by fairy lights and candles alone. The Christmas tree in the corner of the room glowed warmly making the space feel like a cosy grotto. The whole place smelled like cinnamon and with your Christmas playlist softly emitting from your Alexa, it softened the blow that you’d be alone at this time of year.

A knock on your apartment door broke through your thoughts and you imagined it was your Post Mates order so you carefully placed your book mark inbetween the pages you were currently reading and went to answer the door. Your door step was empty, nothing or nobody was there and you furrowed your brow in confusion and peeked your head around the door to see who knocked.

It took you a few seconds to process what you saw, “Paige! What are you doing here?” You gasp, seeing your girlfriend, body pressed against the wall, a huge cheesy grin on her face and a red santa hat perched on her head, “Surprise, my love.”

“You’re meant to be on a plane right now!” You say as she pulls you into a hug. Paiges hugs were hands down your favourite thing in this whole world. The way her arms snaked around your waist and squeezed you tight, the way her head nuzzled into your neck as she pressed light kisses to your skin. Your nostrils were filled with her scent, a scent you had prepared yourself to not smell for a few weeks and you breathed in deeply taking in as much of it as you could.

“I’m meant to be right here.” Paige says walking back into your apartment with one arm still wrapped around your waist.

“What are you talking about? I thought you were going back to Minnesota.”

“I was. And then I thought about it. Go there where I’ll just get grilled by my family about shit I cannot be bothered to explain or stay here. With you. Where we can be with each other all day and night. Where I can make you tea while you read and you can cook while…I watch because God knows I’ll burn the place down.” Paige tucks your hair behind your ear and her eyes skim over your face, “You didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas alone did you?” She asks, her thumb gently stroking your cheek.

“I don’t know. Kinda. But it’s normal, everyone goes home. I wouldn’t have minded.” You mumble looking into Paiges eyes. You wouldn’t have resented Paige for going home for the holidays, it wasn’t her fault your family didn’t know how to act. “You know I love you, right? Like a lot. And Christmas is about being with the people you love. Now come and sit on Santas lap and tell me what’s on your list.” Paige smirked as she pulled you to the couch, positioning you on her lap.

You giggled as Paige did her best Santa impression. Voice deep and gravelly, “Have you been a good girl this year?” You nod playing into her game, “Very good.”

Paige raised a brow, breaking character, her usual accent back, “Good girls arch their back, ass up?” You gasped, lightly slapping her arm, “Paige! Santa would not say that!”

“Oh my bad- Ho ho ho! What’s on your Christmas list?” She regained composure, putting on her Santa voice once again, holding her stomach as she ho’d, really getting into character.

“Didn’t make a list. Everything I need is all right here.” You smile, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your girlfriends lips. “I love you, Paige.” “I love you too.”

The rest of your night was spent cuddled into Paige on your couch. The Christmas lights around your dim apartment twinkled silently as you watched your favourite festive movie - The Holiday. Paige traced delicate shapes into your back and every now and then you would catch her staring at you. The light from the television illuminating her perfect features. She would press soft kisses to your head when a romantic scene played and when you found yourself sniffling as the young characters on screen laid in their fort and spoke about their mom who had passed away, Paige slipped her hand into yours and squeezed it tightly.

The holiday season was a weird and complicated time for you but like always Paige was there to make it less weird and less complicated and for that, you could only let a tear slip out of your eye. Grateful for the girl next to you and her deep, unapologetic love.

two posts in an hour so im back on track 🙂‍↕️ happy christmas eve eve baddies 💋

🏷️: @buecketsnbueckets @rosemariiaa @sierrale8ne @avvwritesstufff @blackbarbie96 @melpthatsme @jnkbueckers @cloclos-posts @onlyhereforpazzi @paigeshirleytemple @mattsmunchkin @bueckersbitch @rizzlerbuckets @numberonepartyanth3m @washing-machine-heart245 @katemartinlvr @girlslovee @taylynbueckers44 @thatonequeer0358 @the-other-half @xxxggggsh @evry1luvzza

[l2vedive]

DOUBLE TAKE w. joshua hong

wedding au ; kinda meeting the family trope + fluff and crack (730)

pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x fem!reader

featuring: kim mingyu as your cousin

note: thought about this on a whim during a car ride to a wedding anniversary party i attended. enjoy !! please rb and like <3

you’re standing in a sea of pastel-dressed guests, the soft hum of chatter and clinking glasses filling the garden. it’s a beautiful evening—peach-coloured skies, fairy lights strung across trees, and the distant strains of a string quartet playing something vaguely familiar. you spot mingyu, your cousin and the groom of the lovely event, laughing with a few friends near the buffet table. he’s always been the golden boy of the family—charming, successful, and annoyingly smug about it.

and that’s when you see him.

joshua.

you’ve never personally met him before, only knowing about him during the wedding rehearsals as a former wedding singer about three years ago from one of the bride's band of bridesmaids. you thought to yourself about how with a face like that, how could anyone still be single. there’s no denial in that.

there was something about the way he carried himself while balancing a plate of hors d'oeuvres with an easy smile. he’s tall, lean, with a soft kind of confidence that doesn’t need to shout to be noticed. joshua looks up, and for a brief moment, your eyes meet.

your mind races. mingyu had spent the last week teasing you about being single, nudging you about how everyone in the family was settling down except you. “what’s taking so long? don’t you have anyone?” he’d asked with that insufferable grin.

and just like that, an idea blooms. a ridiculous one at that. a crazy idea that makes you hope would work despite not thinking about the logistics of it.

you make your way across the crowd, weaving through clusters of guests, until you’re standing right next to him. “hi,” you say, flashing your most disarming smile.

he glances at you, startled but polite. “uh, hi?”

“listen,” you lower your voice, leaning in slightly as you draw out the plan. “i know this is going to sound strange, but could you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for a moment. it’s complicated.”

joshua's brows shoot up in surprise, and you can see the gears turning in his head. “pretend ?” he echoes. “why?”

“i’ll explain later,” you promise, grabbing his arm before he can protest. “please, just trust me.”

before he can respond, you’re pulling him towards mingyu who is chatting up a few of the bride's own guests.

“gyu!” you call out in a tune, your voice bright and cheerful.

your cousin turns, grinning as always. “(your name), there you are!” he goes in for a hug before his eyes flicker to joshua, curiosity sparking. “and who’s this?”

you squeeze joshua’s arm lightly, as if urging him to play along. “this,” you announce with a casual confidence you don’t feel, “is joshua. my boyfriend .”

mingyu’s grin falters for a split second before he recovers. “boyfriend?” he repeats, a touch of disbelief colouring his tone.

“yes, boyfriend,” you reply smoothly, shooting mingyu a pointed look as if daring him to question you further.

joshua, to his credit, doesn’t miss a beat. the man next to you extends a hand, his expression friendly but calm. “nice to meet you, man. (your name) has told me a lot about you.”

mingyu shakes his hand, still looking slightly suspicious. “funny, she’s never mentioned you before.”

“oh, you know how she is,” joshua says with a laugh, playing along effortlessly. “always keeps me as her little secret.” you stand up a little bit straighter when you realise his hand has moved to rest on the small of your back.

you can’t help but feel a pang of gratitude for how natural he’s making this look.

but then mingyu’s eyes narrow, a sly grin creeping onto his face. “you must be serious if she’s introducing you now. what’s next? a wedding?”

you freeze, scrambling to think of an answer but joshua speaks up before you do. he chuckles, pulling you closer. “funny you should mention that,” he says, his tone light and teasing, “we’re actually engaged.”

“what ?! ” you and mingyu exclaim in unison, though for very different reasons.

you shoot joshua a wide-eyed look, but he just shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “you dragged me into this,” he whispers under his breath, lips barely moving, “might as well commit.”

mingyu looks utterly delighted. “engaged? well, this is news! congratulations, you two. shall i announce this during the toast? ooh, the family would be so glad to—,”

you cut him off before he could continue and eventually inform the rest of the guests about your endeavours. "everything's fine, thank you!"

“we’ll let you get back to hosting,” joshua says smoothly, steering you away from mingyu before the other man can protest.

once you’re safely out of earshot, you whirl around to face him. “engaged? really ? ”

joshua grins, entirely unapologetic. “what? you needed help, and it seemed like the logical next step.”

you stare at him, torn between annoyance and reluctant admiration. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet, you’re still holding my arm,” he points out, his smile softening.

“so, what’s the plan now, fiancée? ”

— please do not copy , translate or repost any of my works anywhere.

© l2vedive on tumblr

[mjlovescm]

Everything on your wish list, Spencer Reid

A/n: trying new tagging systems so ig this is Boyfriend!Spencer x black!fem!reader

You and Spencer both had complicated connections to holidays. Growing up with complicated families, this time of year was always hard.

Before his father left, Spencer remembered his mom reading books to him before bed on Santa Claus and polar bears. As a logical child, he didn't truly believe in the large man up north. His father would leave presents under the tree. But being a “busy” man, he never had time to understand what a boy like Spencer would want. Or wrap any of his clearly thoughtful gifts.

As friends, you could always count on one another for something small and sentimental. You often giving Spencer signed books or classics. While he was one to pay attention to the little details. And with an eidetic memory, that was easy to do.

But with this being your first Christmas together, Spencer wanted to make sure he made it a good one. Starting with flashy matching sweaters that Spencer refused to call ugly. And decorations, leaving his apartment covered in colorful lights. The only thing that was left were your presents. And with Garcia's help, Spencer made sure he got you everything you wanted.

“Could you bring me more tape ?”

Spencer asked as he cut a long strip of red ribbon. He was insistent on adding bows to each of the already wrapped boxes. That and a personally signed noted. With a smile and a small “sure” you left the living room before quickly returning with the tape. But once you caught a better look at Spencer's Christmas tree, you were shocked.

Boxes upon boxes of varying sizes, all wrapped and all with bows atop them. And those weren't the only ones. The bowless gifts were sitting on the coffee table, in front of him.

“Spencer you know Christmas is in a few days right. You need to drop these off before it's too late. I thought you already dropped off everyone's gifts?”

He looks away sheepishly, unsure what to say.

“I have.”

Confused, your eyebrows pulled together.

“So whose gifts are these?”

He hesitates before answering. Taking a seat beside him on Spencer's couch, you pick up a cookie and took a bite. Humming at the sweet taste and warm, soft, certainly somewhat under done center.

“Yours.” he says with a small shrug, trying to ease you into the idea.

But you weren't quite catching onto what your boyfriend was suggesting.

“You mean ours ?”

He shakes his head, continuing to tie bows on boxes.

“Just yours.”

You continued to eat your tree shaped cookie as you looked over the boxes.

“All of them are mine? Like all of them.”

He nods and smiles sweetly.

“Merry Christmas.”

He looks beyond proud of himself. Excited even. It's so cute. The way his brown eyes and pink dusted face lights up. You could practically see the Christmas spirit in his eyes. The love for making people feel seen in the form of hand wrapped gifts and handwritten cards.

“Spencer, there's no way I had that many things on my wishlist. I can't even think of that many things that I want.”

When you spoke about gift giving, you agreed on a list. Naturally, both of you wanted to give the other a few things as genuine surprises. But this was far more than a few things. The corner of Spencer's living room with his unique and hefty decorated tree was backed with boxes. The large red tree skirt was overwhelmed, leaving only slivers of the bright fabric to be seen.

“You mentioned some things, and Garcia offered to helped me.”

Confused, you gave Spencer an uncertain look. Help from Garcia could mean a multitude of things. Legal and illegal. Though you knew she meant good, she wasn't one to shy away from doing things her way.

“Is this one of those prank gift things? Am I going to open the boxes, and they're empty ?”

Spencer wasn't one for cruel pranks. But from time to time him and Garcia would attempt it.

He shook his head.

“All the boxes are full.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

You stood and walked to the tree, unsure how much you believed Spencer and his plush Christmas tree.

“So you wouldn't mind if I open a few gifts.”

You weren't being entirely serious but now more than ever

you were genuinely curious to see what he'd gotten you. And how much you'd have to spend to compete with it.

“Normally people open one gift on Christmas Eve, but we can make a new tradition.”

Spencer picks one up. It was one of the smaller ones, wrapped with red paper and tied with a white bow.

“Here, open this one today.”

“Why this one ? What's inside it ?”

Your skepticism was hard to hide.

“If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise.” Spencer said matter-of-factly, yet there was a softness to his words.

You took the gift from Spencer. Both of you taking a seat by the tree and other boxes. You open the present and quickly found that Spencer was telling the truth. It was perfume, a designer perfume you'd had when you were younger. Something your mother had passed down to you.

You hadn't seen the brand in years. Nor the large bottle. The one you'd shared with your mom was smaller. Less than half what Spencer had bought you. And engraved in the glass was your name.

“Merry Christmas.” Spencer whispered with a small smile.

You were silent for a moment, taking it in.

“How did you-”

He explained how he'd remembered you talking about the perfume a few times. Originally, he'd gone to a few stores and malls himself to search for it. But after not finding it, he'd called Garcia for back up. Within the hour, she was able to find a few resellers online. That and haggle them on the price.

“Wait, so all of these are really my gifts?”

“Why wouldn't they be ?”

My full masterlist

Holiday shopping with sugar daddy Spencer 🛍️💳

Being with Spencer means getting lover letters on the regular

Illicit affairs

[periwinkla]

I think what I love the most about AA is that characters have a duality to them that I don't see often in media. They have actual flaws and do actual bad things, and it's not glossed over. Phoenix is a fundamentally good person, he helps people at the drop of a hat, risks his life for them. Has a penchant for taking strays under his wing. He believes in people... but also not really. He carries a literal lie detector with him at all times, and only employs people who can also peer into other people's hearts. So is he really that trusting? Sure he trusts his clients are innocent, but he doesn't trust they will tell him the truth at all (there's always something to lie about). He believes himself naive, and that's why he works extra hard not to be. Some people think he changed with his disbarment but I feel like when he actually changed was after Dahlia. He became less and less trusting as time went on. And Phoenix actually does forge evidence and risks his subordinate's career, and he says pretty nasty things sometimes (that one time to Edgeworth had got to hurt, badly, especially if you consider that the note could have been genuine at first, which we don't know for sure), has a pretty tactless and somewhat hurtful sense of humor, brings his daughter to cheat at poker, and doesn't tell said daughter she actually has some family left alive. He's secretive, elusive and cryptic, and masks it under a false pretence of goofiness. Miles is, by contrast, very easy to read. He may appear emotionally stunted but is one of the more emphathetic characters. He realizes when he's wrong and immediately needs to correct those wrongs. He grows uneasy and uncertain and eventually recognizes when he's mistaken. By the end of it he begins to help people naturally, without even thinking about it as much as he would have in the past. He helps so many people, he has basically got Phoenix's savior complex 2.0 but the healthy kind where he doesn't jump off a bridge. But... he was also actually cruel, and did send innocent people to their graves (was he really so naive to believe whichever defendant came his way was guilty?). He feigned his death disregarding other people's feelings, and while you could say he had no obligation towards Phoenix (apart from basic decency and respect towards someone who had turned his life around to save him), he still abandoned Franziska, who was still just a kid and had just found out about what her father did. She probably thought, at some point, that the apple didn't fall that far from the tree. That's it's somehow her fault as well. He may be rude and antagonistic, frank to a fault. Isn't afraid of telling stuff to your face. But he also cares about the people he loves so much, to the point he doesn't hesitate to risk his career and break the law multiple times. He may appear a pessimist but he's pretty idealistic at heart, it's quite funny that his favourite show is about an hero of justice, isn't it? Godot is... well, we don't know much about it from before his coma, but he definitely shared Mia's sentiments for helping people in their hour of need. But when he wakes from a 6-year coma he's so broken that he just pins the blame on the most absurd person to blame it on, settles on a complicated plan, and also prosecutes on that particular murder he should just confess upon. Iris was sweet, innocent, self-sacrificing. She knew absolutely nothing about the world apart from what Bikini or her sister told her. She was naive and falsely thought she could fix everything, that her sister was salvageable, that she could save Phoenix. But she still ended up lying to the person she loved and abetting a murder. That's why I love these characters so much. They're interesting and their stories make sense. People don't remain unchanged from what happens to them. People are multi-faceted and complex. You can't sum them up in a bunch of characteristics and aspect them to act on every single one of them, always, consistently. Sometimes people break. They make mistakes they regret, ...and some they don't.

[luludeluluramblings]

Hi so I was having some brainrot regarding your small-town-neglected-meta reader and I wanted to share them with you!

One thing I've been thinking about alot is the way readers powers work and what kinds of weather they're likely to create, etc. One thing I specifically thought about is that readers powers definitely have to come from her mom's side. Bruce and no else in Bruce's biological line have powers so readers mom has to have the meta gene. I was thinking that maybe readers mom also controlled the weather a bit, maybe not as strong as reader can but still had some powers.

Like creating little drizzles, maybe some dustdevils, and little snow storms. Because her powers were so weak she never really used them for much, maybe to help out her own parents on the farm but that's about it(using her rain powers to easily water the crops)

In that same line of thinking I also wondered if readers little brother also has superpowers. Maybe the way his powers work or appear are bit different than readers because of they have different dads(I imagine Bruce has really strong genetics. If Damian is any proof of that lol)

One little crank in this little headcanon though is that Nana and Gramps would also have to have superpowers. But then I reread the first chapter and thought about One of the phrases you used to describe how reader got in Bruce's hands.

"but blood is thicker than water in the eyes of the court."

That specifically makes me think that Nana and Gramps are actually readers little brother biological grandparents and not theirs.(what happened to their bio grandparents 🤔)

But anyway, one last thing I wanted mention is how badly I want to see reader using their powers more freely when they're back in small town. Like they aren't afraid to use their powers to make it super windy and have fun with their little brother up on the sky. Or causing a blizzard just so they can have a snowball fight and make snow-men with their little brother. Or even accidently cause a power outage because someone pissed them off! No more suppressed emotions just freedom. (Also reader crying in the middle of the rain they made in front of their parents graves(they wanted to be buried in their hometown) would be so tragically fantasic.)

Anyway I know this is a lot to read and I'm sorry if I seem a bit scrambled but I wanted to send this to you just cause I had so many ideas floating up in my brain I couldn't stop thinking about it all. Thank you for listening to me ramble, I hope your doing amazing🩷

Your call this bain-rot, Imma call it fertilizer. This is long as mess, but I think I addressed everything. Lots of Smalltown!Reader lore and I made a Family Tree to help explain if needed.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Smalltown!Reader's Family Tree:

Complicated little bugger, ain't it? I didn't add Stephanie or Barbara because Bruce technically never adopted them or fostered them. This isn't an official thing, I made this and it was composed of little bits of information I found online. So some of this stuff might not be lore accurate.

Also, while I was researching I found out that Bruce's middle name was apparently Patrick, after his grandfather at one point.

Now, time for the pseudo science.

I consider the meta gene to be a genetic trait carried down by a parent. That would be Momma/Adeline, in this case. She carries the gene. Now, the meta gene does not always activate even if one has it. So, no, Momma was not making mini storms for us. She was, however, very encouraging of Reader using their abilities. It takes an event, usually a traumatic one, to activate the gene. (Little Brother could be getting power's in the next chapter, though.)

As for Nana and Grand Daddy we have this:

They don't have the gene, so they don't have abilities. (Which doesn't me their harmless.) They are Reader's Step-Grandparents, but they've grown to love them all the same. Now, in court, it is preferred for a child to go to the nearest blood relative after their parents die. Or, at least, that's what I roughly know from what the court in my state is like. I'm not from Louisiana or New Jersey, where Gotham's located, so maybe it's different. But, this is fiction. This is why Nana and Grand Daddy didn't get custody of Reader, though. Plus Bruce is rich with a bunch of adopted kids, on paper he looks like the best option.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

I really love the thought of Reader using their abilities for silly little things while back in Smalltown, at least before things absolutely go to hell in a hand basket. So I'll probably include a bit. (They used to do things like that before moving to Gotham, definitely.) Something I want to mention is that Reader likes to make it rain when their happy. It's their favorite weather, they love it. So a grave scene might be a bit different. (I have to include that now. Thank you for that idea! Frick, Part Eight about to be long af.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

If your curious about Reader's other grandparents, they just died from old age and health problems. I like to think that Reader had a close relationship with them. Calling them MawMaw and Gab for their nicknames and having spent a lot of time with Reader and their Little Brother before they died. (I'm sorely tempted to just commit to rewriting this with the OC I based Reader off of so I can include all this backstory to highlight how different their life in Gotham is compared to what it used to be, but I best finish what I started first.)

(Side Note: It's very common in the American south for people to give their grandparents nicknames. I have some for my southern grandparents, while I call my northern grandparents just plain Grandma and Grandpa. The nickname can vary and is usually what ever the first grandchild comes up with.)

Thank you for sending me this ask! Stuff like this actually inspires me so this was wonderful. Hopefully this helps. (Now to get back to work on my writing, I've been draggin' my feet again.)

[xiaomainlmao]

Soft Diluc Scenarios because imagine retiring in the arms of a big, fluffy man <3 (wc: 1k)

and by "retiring", I mean retiring for the day and not "coming home to him" because there's no guarantee that he will be at home when you return

there is also no guarantee that you will be receiving him when he comes home either because of how unpredictable his schedule (and mood) can be

however, if he hasn't been home for too long, then he's probably sitting by the old well near the winery, facing the lake and the tall mountains marking the beginning of Liyue

Sometimes, he likes hosting a little picnic there during the day for just the two of you. He likes holding your hand and laying on the grass under the tree for hours, daydreaming about a married life in a small cottage, away from the world. The small houses scattered around the winery, usually used for storing wine barrels in the peak season? Yeah imagine if that was all you had. Being rich can be tough, and he sometimes just wants to run away and live in a small cottage with you <3

And sometimes, he likes stargazing from there. The anemo crystalflies slowly approaching the two of you, as you just sit there by the well and look up at the starry sky. Diluc tilts his head upwards and closes his eyes, taking in deep breaths and relaxing. However, you would probably be looking at Diluc and the crystalfly that settled in his hair, making him look all the more ethereal in the night.

But if he hasn't returned home for too long (and you know he isn't busy with Darkknight duties), then he's probably by this well, contemplating life. It's best to go check up on him, because he may be overthinking things and may need someone who can drag him out of that spiral.

I headcanon that one of his favourite de-stressing activities is cooking. When he was younger, him and Kaeya would often watch Adelinde as she cooked, trying to help a bit here and there. Now, he likes to cook with you. He may either dismiss Adeline entirely for the time-being, saying "It's alright, we'll manage this one. Why don't you take a rest? We'll make a portion for you too."

But if it's something complicated, or if he wants to try cooking something new, then you're in for a story time! Because Adeline WILL tell you about some of his childhood deeds like she's his mother

Imagine seeing the richest man in Mondstadt, cooking casually and having his childhood stories being told by his maid, while he's trying not to look too embarrassed- yea that's a rare one, and he wouldn't let just anyone see this side of him, so you better cherish it <3

He loves it when you play with his hair. Feeling your hands through his locks, he sighs, leaning further into your arms

Also loves picking up any tiny trinkets he thinks you might like- a piece of jewellery, a twig with two tiny leaves near the tree at Windrise, a Windwheel Aster in full bloom, any special dish at Good Hunter's or even some abyss monster trophies he collected after defeating them.

If you're a good fighter, he loves sparring with you, but he's careful to not go overboard.

If you don't know how to fight, he's going to teach. He circles to behind you, holding your dominant hand with one of his own hands, while the other rests on your waist, adjusting your posture.

He's very encouraging, you can talk to him about anything and he'll support you through and through... even if it means inviting Kaeya over for a family dinner.

Kaeya definitely uses you as a means to re-establish his bonds with Diluc. He hopes that you'll have enough power to make Diluc at least acknowledge Kaeya as his brother again.

If Diluc is dating you, it means that he truly does love and appreciate you. His love language is primarily acts of service. He's not the best with words, but he's still a lot more open with you.

He feels himself healing around you, and often feels like he's going to owe you a debt that he'll never be able to repay.

One of his favourite things to do is personally put on accessories he bought for you on you- turning you around to place the necklace around your neck, kissing your hand after he rolls the bracelet onto your wrist or the ring onto your finger, kissing you head after placing a flower there, he loves these little acts and loves how flustered it can make you.

Loves ballroom dancing in the middle of the night. Depending on his mood, he may either gently sway you across in his room, or passionately dance with you in the main hall.

If you offer to help at the tavern, he makes sure that you aren't the one serving the drunkards with a bad reputation, he can't stand you getting hurt in any form.

During intimate moments, he loves holding your hand. Prefers any and all positions which lets him hold you close. Your pleasure is his pleasure. He's just a huge softie :(

He makes sure that you never doubt his love-he'll go to any lengths to prove to you that his heart belongs to you and you only. He would even use his power and authority to protect you from any sort of mess.

Being loved by Diluc is like being embraced by the flame at the fireplace on the coldest night- comforting and warm, but you need to keep adding firewood to keep it burning. He often needs to be reassured that you still do love him as much as he loves you.

.

.

.

About (name)- Knights of Favonious Although I was a little hesitant at first, I've come to terms with the fact that (name) and Jean are the only two useful knights… while Kaeya seems to be the most incompetent of all. * sigh * What is a cavalry captain with no horses?

-Diluc probably, if you're part of the Knights

----------

[snowmeow03]

I suddenly realized that as a pegasister, I have never formally drawn ponyplates (hoofplates??) in my way, so suddenly (literally 3am in my time zone) I wanna give it a shot.

I thought about Gaster's cutting, and in theory, since he's not a skeleton anymore, shearing his fur is obviously the best choice. But I feel that it doesn't capture the vibe of him “ripping apart his own body", so in the end, I chose to let him cut his horn. Hmm, maybe the body part full of magic is a must to create baby ponies.

Theoretically speaking, it's more reasonable for both of the brothers to be unicorns, but when I pictured Papyrus, I see him more as a pegasus. Well perhaps there're some pegasus in pony Gaster's family tree. But there's kind of a problem that Pegasus can already fly, how can I show the "special" of Papyrus? So, like, why not make Papyrus only have one wing! Perhaps another one was chopped off by Gaster to prevent him from escaping or something. Sans, I really can't imagine any way to disguise his blind eyes as well as showing his unique eye sockets, I mean, since he's not a skeleton anymore (again). In the end, I chose the latter between fidelity to the character and making sense, although this made them a bit less recognizable (sadly)

I hesitated for a long time about the cutie mark. Gaster’s was more straightforward, I needed to came up with something that is related to science but can also reflect the fate of "doing experiments", so I settled on this thing (funny enough, I still don’t know what it’s called, even though it’s probably common knowledge...?). In fact, I also want to express an abstract concept of "recording", including recording the timeline, "recording" the changes in Dreemurrs' and the underground world, and "recording" Radic's actions? Unfortunately, I really can't find a way to reflect the fate of falling into the core on it! The cutie marks of the brothers is much more difficult because they do not have a very specific hobby/lifestyle (like science for Gaster) to represent themselves, which is complicate - if I have to pick, I think their representative items are scarves and socks (...!) - although Papyrus loves puzzles, using puzzles as cutie mark cannot reflect his most important principles and personality, and Sans is even more difficult to handle. In short, their representatives are very abstract, and I find it so hard to summarize their very selves with a single mark on their flank! At last I tried to consider after combining the characteristic of "brothers", positive and negative. I always feel that Gaster's red scarf represents his kind heart, inherited by Papyrus along with the scarf itself, so it naturally occupies a place in his mark (unlike socks to Sans, lol). Sans' mark is more abstract, those things can actually be seen as dissipating dust or as a part of lost head, representing, uh, some obvious things...I guess? I actually even considered using the shapes of the souls Gaster gave them, representing Gaster himself who plays a huge part in their lives, but well it's a little bit tragic if you think about that, their lives should be less of him (in the sense of experiments), so I didn't do that in the end.

I also considered about the clothes. Well...Different from monsters, ponies normally don't wear clothes, in this situation it'll be weird if Gaster specially made lab clothes for the brothers to wear, so I l just let them go naked. Once again, the recognizability has unfortunately decreased...! (also about Sans' clothes, I don't think ponies actually "need" pockets...right?)

Yeah and about the plates, I literally cannot figure out where the plates should go, Gaster was trying to make sure the brothers suffer as he wanted to cut ties with them (at least that's what I thought), so they can't be anything like horseshoes. Tags on the ears are great, but still a little bit off, and I can't think of any "plates" fits both settings of pony and handplates... So I ended up going with brand marks (actually I set this for Dreemurrs in alterplates as well). As for the placement? I think they shall be the lower half and it'll be too screwed up if they were on the cutie marks, so hind legs it is. I don't think ponies wear pants, so I made the brothers wear leggings.

btw I think the brothers got the cutie marks right after Sans yeeted Gaster into the core (welp)