#being able to look over at them as we play and see the way their eyes sparkle from the excitement

[artyandink]

maine coon

Summary: Dean initially hated your small touches. He used to feel weird with them on his skin. But now he craves them. He craves the high of feeling like a human, and you’re the best hit he’s ever had.

TW: Mentions of borderline dehumanisation (cause we hate John guys for making those two beautiful boys soldiers/mindless machines), two idiots in love, tooth rotting fluff! Thought up this little drabble :)

A/N - Maine coon because they’re a very friendly cat breed! Plus, a little comfort for Dean cause he needs it :) set in s1

Little touches.

It started like that. Just small brushes of your hand on his shoulder and ruffling of Sam’s hair. The younger Winchester would brush you off politely, fix his hair but wear an affectionate smile anyway.

Not Dean.

Dean would grumble, pout angrily, act as if he was wiping off the invisible trail your hands left and claim that he wasn’t a baby. All at first. But slowly, like an ice lolly in the sun, slowly melting, he found himself less inclined to brush you off. He’d get jumpy and irritable if you didn’t show him that affection for too long. He even found his nightmares appearing less frequently after being lulled to sleep with his head in your lap, your fingers in his hair because he couldn’t sleep.

You slept better too, knowing he was ok and he was able to turn to you, even though it was wordless. All it took was a flash of puppy eyes and you knew what he needed. The comfort that he deserved, after working himself to the bone protecting Sammy and you like his father taught him. Like a good soldier.

He didn’t feel like that with you.

Sleep was gently coaxed out of him by the sensation of nails on his scalp, a groan muffled by his face in his pillow as he instantly recognised the cool sensation of the ring on your finger as your hand smoothed down his hair. “Wake up, Dean.” You murmured softly, your thumb tracing his ear, and he almost smiled at the sensation. Almost.

The aroma of coffee hit his lungs, and when your hand ran down to gently press against his shoulders and massaging down to his shoulder blades, he didn’t feel so inclined to sleep further. So he sat up. He wanted to see you, your gorgeous face, with the eyes that told a thousand stories and those lips that were worth a thousand dollars when they were pursed in anger. Which only came out when someone hurt him or Sam.

He didn’t feel like he had a sword and shield in his hand in moments like these. Instead, he had a warm cup of coffee and your hand briefly petting his hair, which he leaned into before it even touched his head. “Mornin’.” He rasped out, voice crackly and hoarse from the morning, smacking his lips to get the morning taste off before taking the first heavenly hit of caffeine. And relishing in the aftershocks of the second euphoric high of your touch. “S’some damn good coffee, darlin’.”

“Black, two spoons o’ sugar, and a dash of beer.” You gave him a small smile as you stood up and moved to the kitchenette of your small motel room, looking beautiful to Dean even in your oversized shirt and sleep shorts, complete with black ankle socks. You had bed head that you were yet to sort out, but Dean was dazzled by the halo he could see over your head.

His mom said angels were watching over him. Maybe this is what she meant.

“Just how you like it.” You added, working to make some breakfast. The smell of cooking eggs and frying bacon filled the space, a small smile on your face as you contently cooked food for the man who was approaching you, coffee cup raising to his lips as his eyes followed you like a lost puppy. The cup clinked as it was set down on the counter, Dean’s tongue darting out to lick his lips before biting the bottom one as he tentatively made his way over to rest his chin on your shoulder from behind, his eyes closing slowly like a cat when your hand reached behind to gently play with his hair.

“Smells nice.” He murmured, almost like a purr as he leaned into your touch.

You chuckled, your fingers rubbing over the silky, spiky strands of his morning hedgehog hair. “That’s ‘cause I’m an amazing cook.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Dean added with a contented groan, wanting so badly to tell you how he felt. So much that it was threatening to burst out of his chest.

“What did I tell you about saying that?” You chastised, piling his plate with a bit extra of everything that he liked before sliding it closer to him. “C’mon, eat.”

“Thanks.” He cupped your cheeks, leaning in.

It was meant to be a simple kiss on the forehead. That’s all it was meant to be. But by some miracle (or maybe his eternal bad luck), his lips pressed against yours. Soft, slow, sweet. He puckered up, eyebrows raising in surprise, his eyelashes fluttering but staying closed before he decided to pull himself away, but it felt like yanking. Tugging. Practically peeling himself off, cause he didn’t want to let go.

His eyes didn’t open for at least a few second. But when he did, he saw yours. Your shining eyes, with a small, amused smile on your lips. Your gorgeous lips, that he just wanted to see swollen with all the kisses and love he could give you.

“What was that for?” Came your voice, quiet and docile as you looked at him in a way that only you could. Only you.

“I don’t know.” He murmured, eyes flicking to your lips again, itching for that high again. That hit. So he let himself taste you again, let himself lose his way in the labyrinth that came with your hand on the side of his neck and his cradling your cheek. The taste of coffee, the different ways you both liked it sweetening your palettes in a beautiful mix of sweet, sour and alcohol. The smell of old leather gracing you while the scent of your lavender body wash flooded him and sent him past cloud nine.

You pulled back slowly, because you also wanted to savour him. But when you saw the look on his face, his slightly swollen lips and the way they were parted in awe, you couldn’t help but melt and thumb his bottom lip.

“I think…” You paused to kiss his cheek softly, whispering against it, “I think I know.”

Make sure to leave feedback, everyone! I’d appreciate reblogs, likes and comments!

TAGLIST: @k-slla

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #spn masterlist

[lulublack90]

Prompt 28 - Comfort

@jegulus-microfic May 28, Word count 787

Previous part First part

When the three of them finally went back to bed, James wrapped his arms tightly around Regulus again and dragged him close. Feeling his smaller body snuggle closer to him. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found him. To have discovered the real Regulus underneath all the snark and snipping. Discover the sweet, sensitive being that was begging to be found. 

“Regulus, love?” He whispered into his ear. “Can I take you on a proper date?” He felt Regulus freeze in the bed next to him. 

“What do you mean?” Regulus said warily. 

“Can I take you out, just the two of us, where no one can disturb us, and we can just have a date.” James shrugged, he was struggling to say what he wanted to say. Regulus unfroze and relaxed again. 

“Oh, okay, that sounds nice,” Regulus nuzzled his face further into James’s chest and let out a little sigh. James was puzzled. 

“What did you think I meant?” He asked, trying to prise Regulus off him so he could see his face, but the other boy resisted. 

“I thought you wanted to take me to Hogsmeade where everyone can see us.” At last Regulus rolled. “Not that I don’t want you too, eventually. I’m just not ready yet.” Regulus gulped, he was clearly nervous. 

“I know you’re not ready, love. That’s why we’re having a private date.”

“Okay,” Regulus nuzzled closer again, seeking comfort in James’s arms, and James happily gave it. 

He planned the date for the following night. He’d been practising warming charms for the last 2 weeks. Getting Remus to help him. Remus was a good teacher, and he’d soon mastered the harder ones. He’d be able to keep the pair of them warm for hours. 

He’d found them when he and Sirius had needed to blow off some steam and gone for a run through the forest. He led Regulus past the tree line and into the darkness. James waved his wand over them and performed a flawless warming charm. They lit the tips of their wands and carefully stepped over roots and dodged low-hanging branches. 

Regulus held his hand tightly. He still wasn’t as used to the forest as the others were, but he’d get there.  

“How far in are we going?” Regulus whispered so quietly James almost didn’t hear him. 

“There’s a gap in the trees about a mile in that I want to show you.” He said, holding a large fern leaf out of the way for Regulus to pass. 

“A mile!” Regulus said a bit louder. James chuckled.

“Believe me, it’ll be worth it. 

The rest of the trip they didn’t talk much and when they were close, James slowed his walk and held a finger to his lips as he crouched low. He crept forward and poked his head through a bush. 

They were there, all three of them. He pulled his head back and waved Regulus forward. Regulus looked nervous but came anyway. It melted James’s heart at how much Regulus trusted him now. 

Together they pushed through the bush and watched the unicorn and her foals nibble the sweet young grass. He heard Regulus's intake of breath as he looked in awe at the sight before him. He squeezed James’s hand tightly in his excitement. James bit his bottom lip to keep his smile under control. 

They stayed there watching the unicorns until they'd had their fill of grass and the foals had started to play, chasing each other around in circles and kicking out with cheeky whinnies, until their mother snorted angrily when one of the golden babies caught her flank with a tiny hoof. The foals followed their mother back into the gloom of the forest, disappearing instantly into the dense trees. 

James turned around and sat on the forest floor, pulling Regulus with him onto his lap. “So, are you enjoying your date?” James asked, peppering kisses up and down Regulus’s neck. 

“Yes,” Regulus gasped breathlessly. “It’s amazing, James.” He grabbed James’s face and yanked him away from his neck. James huffed and tried in vain to get free. He stopped struggling and looked up at the sweet boy holding his face. 

“I love you,” He blurted out. Regulus’s eyes went so wide, James could see the whites the whole way around. Regulus was so still in his lap that James was frightened he’d scared him so much he’d broken him. 

He waited, and Regulus blinked. His eyes sparkled and the smile that spread across his face was the most beautiful thing James had ever seen. 

“I love you too,” Regulus whispered back to him, before he leaned forward and kissed James with all he had. 

Next part

#may 28 #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus fic #jegulus fluff #james potter #regulus black #dead gay wizards #james fleamont potter #regulus arcturus black #james x regulus #regulus x james #james and regulus #regulus and james #james potter x regulus black #the marauders’ era #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #the marauders era #james take regulus on a date #forbidden forest #unicorns #comfort

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (28) Empty

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 28)

Summary: Will Rosie be able to keep her secret from her parents until the big day?

Twenty-Eight Years Old

Seen in hindsight, the trip to Greece was a catalyst of what came later. On our last evening, Timothy and I had dinner at an almost empty restaurant on the cliffs of Fira. The sun was about to set, and the sea was bathed in colours of gold. When Timothy took my hands in his and asked me to marry him, it really was the perfect ending. Cliché, perhaps, but who cares? Luckily, he hadn’t bought the rings at one of the ridiculous jewellers on the island but brought them with him from London. (I said yes, by the way.)

***

As if faith wanted me to keep my secret from my parents, they were away on a three-week trip to New Zealand when we arrived back in London. I called Dee before I went to Baker Street to collect mail and check the fridge for outdated milk and decayed body parts. She had closed for the day, but when I called with my inquiry, she was instantly intrigued and asked me to pop into 221A before I left.

It was strange to see someone else living at Nana’s. Her old furniture had been donated to second-hand shops, new wallpaper, art, and futuristically designed chairs, tables and shelves made 221A look like something taken out of Star Trek or whatever. The kitchen and bathroom were recognisable with bits and bobs I remembered. Nana’s oven mittens, the kitchen utensils and the wallpaper. Over the kitchen table was a big photo of Nana.

“I’ve made some sketches for you,” Dee said after she’d inquired about the trip. “One on each shoulder, yes?”

She showed me her drawings and after some discussion, she made the adjustments I wanted. 

“See you tomorrow at six,” Dee said when I left. 

“Can’t wait!” I retorted excitedly.

***

Dee’s Den was everything you don’t expect a tattoo-studio to be. (At least if you’ve never set foot in one.) Airy, spacious and clean in the extreme. The first time I entered, I felt I needed to take my shoes off.

“No customer of mine will suffer from an infection. I’ve seen enough of that shit,” Dee said gravely.

Her improved sketches had been coloured when I arrived the next day, and they looked even better than I’d dreamt of. The tattoos would adorn each shoulder. One red poppy on the left, and a bee on the right. A t-shirt would cover them, and by the time Dad and Papa were back, they would’ve healed properly so I didn’t need to wrap them in plastic, and the soreness would be gone. I hoped to keep them a secret until the wedding day. My dress would be sleeveless and make sure to show off the tribute to my beloved parents.

***

We decided on a May wedding, and it was Dee’s idea to check if the venue from Nana’s funeral was available.

“She would’ve been so pleased that you all had some good memories from that place. Dancing and laughing, celebrating love.”

Both me and Timothy loved the idea, and we were in luck. Normally, the place needed to be booked at least a year and a half in advance, when it came to weddings, but they’d had a cancellation due to a broken engagement. Nine months to prepare.

***

I chose Liwia as my maid of honour. We had stayed in touch over the years, and she adored my parents, after they’d given her shelter when she needed it in the middle of her teens. Bella had been switched for Iris. They’d been together almost eight years, and Iris was six months pregnant with their first child. An unknown donor was the father.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you were traumatised when you stayed with us,” I said on the final fitting of our dresses.

“What do you mean?” Liwia asked, clearly puzzled.

“Board games,” I explained dryly.

She laughed wholeheartedly and admitted that she’d never played Scrabble, Cluedo, orMonopoly, but stuck to chess and card games.

“Wise choice,” I retorted with a grin. “Though I have experienced knights, queens and bishops being thrown across 221B.”

***

My uncles picked me up at the salon where I’d been styled and dressed. Uncle Myc cocked an eyebrow when he saw my tattoos, but he was unable to hide how moved he was by this permanent gesture. Uncle Greg…well, he wasn’t that subtle, and needed a stern talking to from his husband to avoid ruining my dress and hair when he teared up and embraced me.

“You’re going to destroy them with this, love,” uncle Greg murmured.

I hadn’t been nervous before, but when the familiar place came into sight, my palms started to sweat, and my heart pounded in my chest. Inside, Timothy and my parents waited. The most important people in the world, apart from the men helping me out of the car. I kissed them and let them go in first to find their seats. One of the staff stood waiting for me to open the door once I’d decided to enter.

For a while I just stood there, my head blessfully empty. And then out of nowhere a wave of emotions washed over me. The memories of all the preparations and anxiety of the last week, regarding the flowers, the last seat arrangements we had to change the day prior, one of my shoes that disappeared without a trace… 

“Come on, Watson. You can do this,” I interrupted myself, using Papa’s former name on me to get me out of the unending loop of trifles and keep me focused.

I nodded to the man by the door who opened it for me, and I slowly made my way down the corridor to where Dad and Papa waited. They stood hand in hand outside the door to the ceremony room and turned abruptly when they heard my heels on the wooden floor.

“You look…”

“Oh, Bee…”

They were both teary-eyed, which didn’t bode well. I hoped they’d piled up with tissues, because this well would not be emptied any time soon.

With my heels on, I was the height of Dad. I seldom wore high-heeled shoes, so it was an alien feeling to stand face to face with him, literally speaking.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear when he hugged me.

“Thank you,” I said and turned to Papa.

He’d frozen and he blinked profusely. Dad looked worried at him. He still hadn’t seen the tattoos. Papa’s eyes darted between them, clearly shocked to the core. I took his hand and squeezed it.

“Do you like them?” I asked quietly.

“Like what?” Dad inquired; his eyes hadn’t left Papa’s face during all of this.

“Look at me, Dad,” I said and finally he saw what Papa had seen minutes ago.

“Oh, my god,” he said and covered his mouth with his hand. “Rosie.”

“They are…” Papa clearly knew but was too shaken to believe what he’d deduced.

“Yes, Papa. They are. My tribute, homage, or whatever you want to call it. To you and Dad. To show you and everyone how much you mean to me. Dee made them while you were away. You have no idea how proud I am that I’ve managed to keep it a secret until now.”

Finally, out of his daze, Papa cupped my face and kissed my forehead and cheeks, careful not to disturb my hair or makeup.

“My precious girl,” he murmured. “I love you.”

“Stop! You’re making me cry,” I protested and tried my best to stay composed.

Dad sniffled and batted his eyes with a handkerchief.

“I’m never going to survive this day,” he muttered.

“John!” Papa exclaimed. “Don’t you dare.”

I knew I had to take the lead, or we would be stranded outside that door forever.

“Come on. The game is afoot,” I teased.

Also available on AO3

YES, there will be a continuation tomorrow.

This is also my entry for this month's Sherlock Challenge and the prompt ink.

@calaisreno @sherlockchallenge @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at

More tags in the replies

#may prompts 2024 #may 28: empty #sherlock challenge #ink #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 3

Noah Sebastian X Reader

Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Masterlist

Wheeeeeeee!

________

“Heavenly father,” Isaac began. “We ask that you bless this practice session. Allow us to spread your love and light through our music and give us the opportunity to reach the souls that need to hear it. Amen.”

“Amen,” the rest of you repeated.

“Alright, friends. What songs do we want to play this week?”

“I’ve been leaning towards How He Loves Us,” said Darian.

“Okay. I’ll need to refresh myself on the chords,” said Noah. “Everyone on board?”

You nodded along with the others, but as they talked over the song list, you found yourself losing focus. Your eyes drifted over to the front of the stage, where you and Noah had sat on Saturday.

You were always so sure that if presented with temptation, you would be able to resist. It had never once entered your mind that there would be a situation in which your resolve would be tested.

But there on those steps, with Noah looking down over you, you knew you would have let your body take over and do whatever it wanted. For the first time in your life, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself with someone—and yet, you weren’t convinced it was a bad thing.

Okay, were you ready to lose your virginity to him? No. That was a big step to take, considering you’d only ever had one kiss in your life, but you couldn’t deny that you were eager to explore your sexuality more, and that had never been something you were willing to do outside of marriage.

Noah’s logic had you questioning the rules that had been instilled in you. He seemed to think that the rules, particularly those surrounding sex, were not worth following. He had such a confidence about it that you were dying to question where he got it from and what his reasoning behind it was.

Something tugged in the back of your mind, though. Isaac had cautioned you about spending time with him, and how he could lead you down a bad path. You felt yourself straying from what you had always believed, but were they right? Were you being led into a life of sin?

Or was it more complicated than that?

“Okay, everyone clear on the set list for this week?”

You nodded, even though you weren’t clear, but you’d pick it up easily enough. You could always ask Ava if you needed help.

“Hey, can I talk to you a minute?”

It was Isaac. He was closer than you remembered him being. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if I could get your help with something?”

“Okay?” you said, waiting for him to continue.

“So I want to put together a Christmas concert. I could use your voice. And your help with setting it up if you’re down for it.”

“Halloween isn’t even over,” you said.

“These things take time to arrange. It’s better if we get a head start.” He flashed a smile at you and rocked back on his heels, visibly eager for you to agree.

“What all would I need to do?” you asked.

“Really, I just need you to sing the soprano harmonies. And to spread the word about it. Maybe hang some fliers or something. See if any of the women in your dorm want to come. I’m thinking this could be a great outreach project if we maybe add an alter call or something at the end.”

You didn’t want to. You knew you didn’t want to, but you needed something to focus on that wasn’t Noah and the way he had you questioning everything about yourself. 

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

“Yess,” he hissed, already taking it as a begrudging agreement, instead of a consideration. “Promise you won’t regret it.”

“Uh-huh.”

The rest of the session was spent practicing the songs for the upcoming service. You wished you had the ability to stay focused, but all you could think about was the softness behind Noah’s eyes when he looked at you, and how eager you were for Saturday to arrive.

______

“Noah can’t come,” Nick said, walking up the concrete pathway that led to the church ground. “He got roped into working overtime at the factory. Won’t be off until 3.”

“Oh,” you said, trying not to let your disappointment show. “Sucks for him.”

“Not really. At least he’s getting paid,” he said. “Otherwise he’d have to be here, doing work for free.”

“Right,” you agreed. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“So what’s on the menu for today?” he asked, sounding much more chipper than last week.

“Sorting donations. Our church is holding a drive to help families in need. We’re sorting clothes by size and gender—,”

“Gender is a construct,” he cut in.

“Okay, so by size and masculine vs. feminine then.”

"And what if it's gender-neutral?" he asked.

You sighed. "Use your judgement."

“Got it,” he said and punctuated it with a nod.

“And then if we get done with that, we’ll sort toys by age, and then food by type and expiration date.”

“That sounds like a lot.”

“You shrugged. We’ll just do as much as we have time for.”

You led him down into the basement of the worship center, where all the donation boxes were stored.

“Start with that box. We’ll start sorting it based on gen—er, feminine verses masculine first. Then we’ll do children’s versus adults, and after that, go by size. Feminine clothes go there, masculine over there, you said, pointing to piles on two different tables.

“Sounds good,” he said, picking up a box and getting to work. You got back to work sifting through the box you’d been working on before he had arrived, picking up the clothes, judging which pile they belonged in and whether they were in good enough condition to rehome.

“Make sure you check for things like stains and tears. We don’t want to be sending people damaged things.”

“Got it,” he said.

Nick paused to remove his black hoodie, and you allowed yourself to sneak a glance over at him while he worked. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, exposing tattoos on his arms, though not nearly as many as Noah. He was more muscular than you realized, biceps flexing and relaxing as he folded the clothes.

“I see you staring,” he said and you looked up at him to find him smirking at you.

“I was looking at your tattoos.”

“Sure you were,” he said. “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind.”

“I wasn’t staring,” you said, looking away from him and back down to the pile of clothes you were sorting.

“And here I was thinking I’d finally caught the Virgin Mary in an act of lust.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

He slid out from behind the table he was working at and stood next to you, picking up a shirt from the pile in front of you and checking the tag.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Just thought you looked like you could use some help over here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.”

The pair of you worked together in tense silence. You had to admit, the work did go much faster when he was helping. Nick worked hard and rhythmically, settling into a pace that easily bested yours. Every so often, his arm would brush up against yours, and you couldn’t figure out if it was on purpose.

“My god, who donated this?!” he exclaimed after a while. You looked over and he was holding a pair of bright yellow children’s pants with a brown stain across the back, his face scandalized.

You snorted loudly. Nick caught it and his face lit up with his own laughter, and the two of you devolved into a fit of giggles.

“We should probably toss that one,” you said after regaining your composure and pointed to the trash can in the corner. He agreed, balling the garment up and tossing it into the trash, easily sinking it into the basket even though it was across the room.

“Do you think the rest are contaminated?” he asked.

You shook your head. “The organizers washed all of these in big industrial washers. It’s just a stain. Still gross though.”

“Still gross,” he agreed.

“Alright, since we’re almost done with this box, I’m gonna grab the next one,” you said, but before you could even try to lift it, Nick had stepped in front of you, hoisting it easily up onto the table with no effort. Impressive, considering you’d been struggling to even lift the boxes of clothing yourself.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem. Hey, so you know how I always say you could use more fun.”

You paused folding the shirt in your hands and raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t give me that look. You know it’s true.”

You maintained your cool expression.

“Well, we’re doing a Halloween gig tonight at Jolly’s. You should come.”

You considered it. If the band was playing, that meant Noah would be there, and you’d get to see what he’s like outside of community service. It sounded tempting, but—

“I already committed to handing out candy to trick-or-treaters with the worship team.”

Nick let out a sound of annoyance. “Are you always doing church stuff?”

You laughed. “Kind of.”

“Well, what time does it go until?” he asked.

“I think trick-or-treat ends at 8:30.”

“Perfect,” he said. “The party doesn’t even start until after 9:00.”

You considered for a moment, not sure if it would be a good idea.

“I can practically hear you talking yourself out of it.”

“It’s just…,” you began.

“You’re worried you’ll get pulled into a life of sin?” he finished. “Come on. It’s one party. You don’t even have to drink.”

You thought about it. It could be interesting to see the band perform. Get an idea of the kind of music Noah’s into.

“Can I bring a friend?” you asked.

He chuckled, “sure, if it’ll get you to come.”

“Okay. Where should I go?”

Nick smiled. “Where’s your dorm? I can pick you and your friend up there at 9:00 and we’ll head over together.”

“Sounds good.”

“Oh, and wear a costume.”

_______

“No way! Really?!” Ava half-shouted.

“Don’t go crazy. I’m bringing you to be my accountability partner,” you said. “Make sure I don’t make any bad decisions while I’m there.”

“What bad decisions would you even make?” she said, “You’re the most responsible out of all of us.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I’ve never been to this kind of party before, so I don’t know what to expect.”

“We’ll be fine,” she said. “Don’t be such a worrier.”

She had a point. You doubted you were going to do anything. But then again, you had experienced your first real temptation only a week ago, and had Nick not walked in, you weren’t one hundred percent positive you would have resisted.

Only time would tell.

_________

Trick-or-treating went smoothly. You and the rest of the worship band got dressed up in your costumes and handed out candy from the steps leading up to the church. Other organizers in your congregation had set up a mini obstacle course for the children, and a table full of apple cider and glazed donuts stood beside it, with many members of the church gathered around it.

These were the kinds of events you loved helping out at. There was such a sense of community that made you feel like you were part of something greater than yourself. Seeing the joy on everyone’s faces made putting up with the more annoying tasks well worth it.

Ava dressed as a medieval princess in a flowing white and pink gown. Isaac went as a pirate. Darian and Josh wore matching “Thing 1” and “Thing 2” costumes. You were dressed as your favorite historical president, but with a twist. The kids loved your costumes, but their own costumes were just as creative.

Part of the event that the church put on involved a costume contest, where the winner would receive a gift certificate for free pizza, soda, and dessert at the local pizza restaurant. It wasn’t much, but the kids had gone all out for it.

You and the worship band were in charge of judging the costumes, and after much deliberation between the robot (your choice) and the wolverine (Isaac’s choice), the robot eventually won out.

“It had blinking LEDs and functioning buttons with sound effects!” you said, when Isaac was salty about the outcome.

“The kid had home-made retractable claws! Do you know how much engineering that takes?”

“Sorry. The results were fair.”

“Whatever. What are you guys doing after this? Want to go bowling?”

“Actually, we already have plans,” Ava said.

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“We were invited to watch a local band.”

“Oh nice. Where is it? I might want to stop by.”

“Oh, uh. I actually don’t know. Our friend is going to pick us up,” you said, growing nervous.

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Which friend?”

You shifted, not knowing how to answer him. 

“It’s the delinquents,” said Ava, unconcerned with the tension that had grown. “Calm down, we’ll be fine.”

Isaac looked at you as if you had told him you were going to a strip club. ��That sounds like a really bad idea,” he said. “Are you sure about this? Do you want me to escort you?”

“Yes I’m sure. And no, we don’t need a chaperone. It’s just listening to a band.”

“Yeah,” said Isaac. “A secular band.”

“Isaac chill. She asked me to be her accountability partner. She’s covered. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have to get going.”

Ava grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you away. Isaac looked like he wanted to follow, but thought better of it and turned away.

“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” she said when the two of you were out of earshot.

“Thanks. I owe you,” you said. “What’s his problem?”

“He doesn’t like them. He’s been talking to me about it. He believes they’re bad news, but I think he’s just jealous, to be honest. You’re no longer paying attention to him the way you used to and he knows it.”

“What a crybaby,” you said.

“I mean, can you blame him? You spent the last several years at his beck and call, and now suddenly you dip.”

“That’s not exactly fair,” you said. “You were the same way with him.”

“Yeah, well, maybe both of us are to blame.”

“You might be right.”

You and Ava reached your dorm, where Ava stripped off the overskirt of her dress, revealing a much shorter version of her costume, complete with knee socks and heels.

“Whoa!” you exclaimed.

“I told you I wanted to experience life on the other side,” she said. “This is my chance. Don’t judge me.”

“Honestly, I’m more impressed than anything. But I don’t know. Maybe it’s a little much for your first party? Like, should you scope it out first before taking a risk like that?”

Ava shrugged. “I’m tired of the same boring things every day. I could use a little risk-taking.”

You bit back your comments, knowing that you weren’t going to change her mind. She was headstrong, which you loved about her, but it also worried you at times.

“Just don’t get too carried away, okay?” you said.

“I’m going to have at least one drink while I’m there.”

“You’re supposed to be my accountability partner!”

“I can still hold you accountable. It’s just one drink.”

You sighed and rubbed your forehead, acknowledging to yourself that it may have been a mistake to bring her.

“Please just don’t make me babysit you the whole time. I want to enjoy myself.”

“I promise. I’ll keep my wits about me. I’ll have one drink. We’ll listen to the music, maybe do a little dancing. Maybe I’ll have my first kiss, and then we’ll be home by midnight.”

You groaned. “Drinking and kissing? That’s a lot to pack into one night.”

“It’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Don’t worry about me. You just focus on enjoying yourself, okay? This is your first real party. You should be excited for you! Not worried for me.”

As if on cue, there was a knock on your door. You looked at the clock on your phone and it read 8:57.

“He’s early for once.”

You opened the door to reveal Nick’s bare chest with the image of an eagle holding a fish inked onto it. A tiny purple vest barely covered his shoulders.  “Aladdin?” you asked.

“At your service,” he said, lifting the fez he wore up in salute.

“Nice,” you commented. “Nick, this is Ava.”

“Princess Ava,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “I like your costume.”

Ava burst into a fit of giggles at the flattery. “Yours too.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” you said to Nick, already knowing what he was thinking. You saw his eyes scan up and down Ava’s legs.

“What are you supposed to be?” he asked. “A sexy founding father?”

“Baberaham Lincoln,” you clarified, fiddling with the fake beard to ensure its placement.

He scanned you up and down. “I guess I see it,” he said slowly. “But to truly pass as a babe-ified version of Lincoln, I think you need to be a little sexier.”

“I wore red lipstick,” you defended.

“You could stand to undo a few buttons on your shirt. Or tie it up to make a crop top,” Ava suggested.

“I’m good,” you said.

Nick shrugged. “Suit yourself. Come on.”

You and Ava followed him out the door and began your walk towards town. Jolly’s house was supposedly a mile or so away from campus. The wind carried a chill, but Ava and Nick seemed to not notice, too enraptured in conversation. They were obviously flirting, and you’d have to remember to warn Ava about him. And threaten Nick.

The walk was quicker than you expected, and you vaguely recognized the part of town Jolly lived in. The house was light blue with black shutters. It spanned two floors, but wasn’t in great shape. Partygoers spilled out onto the front porch and lawn, all dressed in a variety of costumes. You noticed most were homemade, and you appreciated that, but they also showed much more skin than you were used to seeing and you felt overdressed. You unbuttoned one button at the top of your blouse.

“So ladies,” Nick said, gesturing to the crowd. “This is a party. Can I get either of you something to drink?”

“I’m fine,” you said.  “I’ll take a drink,” said Ava.

Nick grinned. “Excellent. What would you like?”

“What do they have?” she asked.

“Follow me to the kitchen and I’ll show you.” Nick and Ava made their way into the crowd, while you hung back a few paces, wanting to get your bearings before immersing yourself into the sea of people. You scanned the strangers, looking for Noah, but came up empty.

So this was a party. It looked like people were having fun. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, but it was very crowded and noisy. You wondered if alcohol was the key to enjoying this. Or perhaps knowing more people. Maybe you just didn’t know anyone so it was hard for you to keep from feeling out of place.

You walked up the steps and across the porch, weaving in and out among partygoers and noticing the various costumes. Superheroes, characters from popular movies and comic book series. A lot of people dressed as celebrities, and then more generic costumes like firefighter and nurse. Several girls walked around in black bodysuits with cat ears and whiskers painted on their faces. You wondered if they all knew each other.

Stepping into the house, you were met with a big cloud of cigarette smoke. It wafted into the air and permeated throughout the entire house. There was another smell too that you didn’t recognize, but you guessed was marijuana.

The tile floor was sticky, you noticed. Your shoes peeled away from the ground with each step and you could almost feel the film they were collecting. It was also hot and humid inside the house, with all the bodies that were crammed in.

Electric neon lights flashed all around in the living room, where several people gathered. It looked like that was where people went to dance. In the kitchen, Ava and Nick leaned up against the counter while Nick poured some red liquid from a large Hawaiian Punch container labeled “jungle juice.” He handed it to Ava and she smiled up at him. His hand went to rest around her waist and she blushed. You’d have to intervene eventually, but for now, you wanted to let Ava have her fun.

You took a swig of water out of the bottle you’d tucked into the inside pocket of your blazer, which was quickly growing too warm. You couldn’t abandon it though, or else nobody would know what you were dressed as—not that it mattered much. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and nobody was paying attention to you.

You found yourself a corner of the living room to stand in and you leaned against the walls, watching the guests as they danced. Some were dancing on each other. Some were making out, while others danced with abandon, twirling their arms above their heads and jumping up and down. It reminded you of summer camp, when you’d do the same thing. Dance with reckless abandon to the worship music—although the context of this dancing was wildly different.

You missed being a kid and getting to participate in all the different activities in the church. Now that you were an adult, you’d taken on more of an organizer and leadership role, overseeing all of these activities. You liked the work, but had much more fun when you were a kid, before all the responsibility kicked in.

A tall figure coming down the stairs caught your eye and you recognized him immediately. He hadn’t seen you yet, and you were perfectly content to watch him from afar.

Noah was dressed in all black. He had switched out his hoodie for a tank top, which displayed the full scope of his tattoos. He wore his hair tied back, but on his head sat a pair of shiny, dark black horns. He held a glass beer bottle in one hand and sipped casually from it.

As he made his way through the crowd, it soon became clear he was one of the more popular guests. Several people went out of their way to greet him by offering high-fives, fist bumps, or by tapping their drinks to his. A couple women were more affectionate—they greeted him by throwing their arms around his neck and wrapping him in a hug, and it was hard to admit your own jealousy to yourself. Noah could have female friends, and it wasn’t a betrayal of whatever small connection the two of you had established. Even still, it was uncomfortable to watch.

You could see the moment he spotted Nick, as he immediately made his way over to them. You were relieved to see he greeted him with more enthusiasm than anyone else. Nick introduced Ava, who shook Noah’s hand. You could see on her face that while she was just as taken aback by the abundance of tattoos as you were originally, she was visibly interested in learning who this newcomer was.

Ava said something else to Noah, who smiled and laughed, and then Nick chimed in, but you couldn’t hear any specifics. In response, Noah perked up and turned to scan the room. Nick leaned toward his friend to mention something else, pointing in your direction, and when Noah finally spotted you, he nodded and started in your direction.

That was your cue to come out of your little secluded corner. Locking eyes with him, you noticed he wore a pair of contacts that completely blacked out his eyes and made him look like a demon, which you supposed was the intent. Despite that, you were warmed by his smile.

When he reached you, he greeted you with a gentle hand on your shoulder and you found yourself wishing you had worn something sleeveless so you could feel the full effect of his touch.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Noah asked, curious but pleased. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m Baberaham Lincoln!” you said. “I thought more people would get that.”

Noah paused, scanned you up and down, and then doubled over in laughter.

“Thank you,” he said, and surprised you by wrapping you up in a warm hug and pressing you into his chest. “You made my night.”

Noah was very sweaty, and you could smell the slight sourness of body odor on him beneath the patchouli scent, but that didn’t detract from how much you enjoyed the embrace.  

“Are you dressed as a demon?” you asked when he finally pulled away.

“Something like that. I didn’t put much thought into it. Just wanted to look scary.”

“Well, it did the trick,” you said. “Your eyes are kind of freaking me out.”

He smiled down at you in response and despite the unsettling costume, you felt your affection for him grow.

“You don’t mind if I drink, do you?” he asked.

“I’m not here to stop you from having any fun. I’m on your turf now.” You had to lean towards him to be heard over the sound of the music and the crowd.

“I’m really surprised you came,” he confessed. “It doesn’t seem like your normal scene, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you said. Shrouded in his presence, you began to understand the appeal of these parties.

“Fair warning though,” he said, leaning down next to your face so you could hear him. “You probably aren’t going to like our music. It’s not exactly your style.” You were met with the slight pressure of his palm on your lower back, and you wondered if the alcohol had lowered his inhibitions.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, reaching into your pockets and pulling out two foam pieces. “I brought earplugs just in case.”

He grinned, dark contacts not taking away from his genuine delight. “That’s my girl.” Something erupted in your stomach at the nickname. “Hey, come here. I want to introduce you to the band.” He led you by the hand through the party and back out onto the front porch.

“This is Ruffilo and Jolly,” he said, introducing you to two other heavily-tattooed and long-haired men. “You already met Folio, our drummer. Ruffilo plays bass and Jolly pays guitar. His real name is Joakim, but we all call him Jolly.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand to each of them to shake.

“This is that girl I was talking about who oversees the community service.”

“Virgin Mary!” Jolly exclaimed in recognition.

Your face fell and you looked up at Noah sourly.

“Shit,” he said. “That probably wasn’t cool, was it?” he asked.

“No, not really,” you said, stepping away from him.

“Sorry, okay guys. Just Mary. Not Virgin Mary.”

“Man, come on,” you whined, and Noah giggled to himself at his own joke. You realized you were stuck with the nickname, probably for as long as you and Noah would know each other.

“So people keep requesting we play Dethrone,” said Jolly. “I think we should.”

Noah’s eyes glanced over at you and his demeanor turned to hesitant. “No Dethrone,” he said. “I’m not feeling it tonight.”

“Okay, but you don’t get to make decisions for the whole band,” reasoned Ruffilo.

“I don’t know if my voice is up to it,” Noah said. “It’s a hard one to perform.”

Ruffilo sighed. “They’re not going to be happy about it.”

“Maybe next time,” said Noah. ���When I remember to bring the Throat Coat.”

Jolly fixed Noah with a look of displeasure, but sighed and relented. “Fine, but don’t neglect your vocal exercises in the future. It’s our biggest crowd-pleaser.”

“Got it,” said Noah. “I won’t.”

Ruffilo pulled out what looked like a hand-wrapped cigarette which you recognized as a joint and lit it up. He took a deep inhale before passing it to Noah, who accepted and sucked back a long drag.

“You don’t mind if I do this, do you?” he intoned, keeping the air trapped in his lungs as he spoke before exhaling a few moments later.

“Not at all,” you said, though something was telling you it was time to take some space.

“Hey, I’m gonna go find Ava,” you said. “You guys have fun.”

“You good?” asked Noah, looking at you with sincerity.

You nodded. “Promise. I just want to check on her.”

“Okay,” he said, taking another drag. “We go on in a few minutes, but I’ll meet up with you after our set. Wait for me?”

“Of course,” you said, softening despite your discomfort.

You didn’t want to leave his side, but if you stayed, you knew you’d be uncomfortable with the situation and you’d already exposed yourself to enough unfamiliarity that night. 

You made your way back into the kitchen, noting that Nick and Ava had moved. You scanned around the house and finally spotted them on the dance floor. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and they were pressed up close to each other. He whispered something into her ear and she threw her head back in laughter.

It was innocent enough, but you’d step in if you felt like you had to.

Wandering through the house, you searched for a quiet spot and a breath of fresh air. You spotted a back door down a short hallway and made a beeline for it, opening to find it a small back yard with a firepit and only a few people standing around it.

You made your way through the yard, past the fire pit and to the back edge where an old shed sat. You leaned against it, closing your eyes and breathing deep. The cool night air filled your lungs, along with the scent of burning wood from the fire.

You were reminded of nights like these spent at church camp during Vespers. Gathering around the campfire and signing along with whoever played the acoustic guitar. Some of the most transformative times of your life happened around those fires. You felt so connected to God. The Holy Spirit permeated through the air, vibrating with intensity and everyone there could feel it. In that moment, you knew that everyone around that fire, no matter where they came from, felt the exact same way you did.

Now, you felt disconnected from your surroundings in an all-consuming way. It was as if everyone else was riding an energetic frequency you couldn’t seem to find and didn’t know if you wanted to. Even Ava, your best friend, assimilated seamlessly into the party atmosphere.

You breathed deeply in and out through your nose and ran your fingertips along the paint that was flaking off the siding of the shed, which served to ground you in the way you needed. You knew you’d have to rejoin the party soon, but you were grateful for this private moment of solace.

As if on cue, the sound of guitars blasted through the back door, demanding your presence. You took out the ear plugs and stuffed them into your ears, the foam muffling the sound and softening the world around you, which had grown abrasive in the last hour or so. _____

The basement floor was damp and even stickier than the kitchen. It was also much more crowded than the upper floor had been now that the entire party was gathered into a single space.

The crowd looked on eagerly as the band set up and did their sound checks. The excitement was tangible and you had no idea Noah’s band had such a following.

“Check. Check,” Noah shouted into the microphone. “I need more in my monitor.” You looked to the back of the room where a small table was set up and someone was running sound.

The sound check took several minutes, but once all the levels were steady, Noah opened his mouth and let out one of the loudest and most demonic sounds you’d ever heard come from a person. You jumped out of your skin, feeling your arm hair stand on end.

Four clicks from Nick’s drumsticks and the entire band joined in, producing a volume even your ear plugs couldn’t compete with.

“Alright you motherfuckers,” Noah shouted. “We’re Bad Omens and we’ve come to steal your souls on this beautiful Hallow-fucking-ween.”

The crowd cheered. Many began jumping up and down in time with the music. The lights flashed from bright green to a deep red, and Noah began to sing.

“Dead on the inside!” 

You never knew live music could be this loud or a crowd this energetic. You’d gone to a few Christian rock concerts, but they were nothing compared to what was happening in front of you.

As the band played through the first few verses of the opening song, the energy of the crowd steadily grew. By the time they hit the crescendo, it looked like a fight had broken out in the audience.

You were immediately put on guard, not sure why nobody else was reacting to it, including the band, when you overserved a few minutes longer and realized that the audience seemed to be…enjoying themselves. It wasn’t a fist fight, you noted. It looked like a bunch of people pushing each other around and flailing their bodies into each other.

Moshing. They were moshing. You remember hearing about it from Isaac, who was into more of the heavier music like The Devil Wears Prada. He said they headlined a Christian music festival he went to over the summer and mentioned that he’d been in a mosh pit, describing what it had been like in vivid detail.

Looking at the audience now, you couldn’t ever imagine someone like Isaac holding their own in a crowd like this.

The next several songs went on like that. The energy of the crowd never died down, and Noah alternated between screaming and singing. You had no idea how his throat could even handle making those noises without bleeding halfway through the first song. You’d have to ask him about that later.

All-in-all, he was right. It definitely wasn’t your preferred style of music, but you could appreciate the passion behind it. Noah’s singing voice was actually beautiful. He hit high notes you’d never heard a man hit before, and he did it with ease. You wished he would stick to that type of singing, but you supposed there had to be an appeal to the screaming, or else the crowd wouldn’t be so lively.

Despite it not being your style, you had fun watching the band perform. Noah’s passion was obvious. He threw his entire body into his performance, letting the music reverberate from deep inside him, and you were content to watch him in his natural habitat.

The juxtaposition was wild. He was normally so closed off and reserved. Here, he was uninhibited. It was like he belonged on a stage and in front of a microphone, and you found yourself feeling happy that he found this outlet for himself.

When the band played their final note, Noah thanked the crowd for coming out and told them all where they could purchase merch and download music.

“Dethrone!” someone shouted from the audience.

“Not tonight, guys. That one’s hard on my throat,” he said.

“Dethrone!” more people shouted. The crowd began to chant over and over again.

“I mean, it’s Halloween. We kind of have to play it,” the man you’d met earlier—Ruffilo—said into the mic.

“Dethrone! Dethrone! Dethrone!” the crowd chanted, and you wondered what kind of song it must be to cause the crowd to react so strongly.

Noah hesitated, looking very torn. He scanned the crowd for a few moments before locking eyes with you and his face held a look of what you could only describe as apology. He held eye contact with you for several minutes, and then he sighed and turned back to the crowd.

“Alright all you fucking cowards, this one’s called Dethrone, and I want to see you tear this fucking place to the ground.”

The guitar came in with a fast and heavy riff for a few bars before the bass and drum joined them. The lights flashed on and off and Noah let out a deep, guttural growl that lasted several bars.

The crowd went absolutely feral. The entire audience began thrashing around and pushing up against one another. Even at the back of the room, you got shoved left and right.

Throughout the noise of the crowd and the screaming you could only make out bits and pieces of the lyrics.

“…when I was killed and born again.” 

“If he’s home I’ve got a message from below. Fuck you.” 

“…Take me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face.” 

The moment you realized what the song was about, you reached your breaking point. You had to get out of there. You did your best to navigate your way over to the stairs through the sea of thrashing people. You were almost to the steps when someone slammed an elbow hard into the side of your face.

“Ow!” you shouted, but nobody paid attention. You reached the railing and pulled yourself up from the crowd, rushing up the stairs as fast as you could and outside the back door of the house.

You could still hear the song from the outside, but it was muffled enough for you to take a few deep breaths. Your face stung where it had been hit, and you had to shake your hands vigorously to steady yourself.

It was too much. It was all too much. Not just the party and the drinking and the drug use, but the anger of it all. The violence. The deliberate threats made towards the God you’ve known and loved your entire life. The hatred towards Him. And it felt personal. It felt like an attack on everything you’ve built your life around.

You let out a choked sound, no longer able to hold the tears back. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying hard not to make noises in case anyone was around, and stumbled your way to the back of the shed, where hopefully nobody could witness your state.

Inside, you heard the song come to an end and the crowd give one final cheer for the band.

You knew the crowd would be dispersing soon and there was a chance someone would stumble upon you. The yard was completely fenced in and in order to get out, you’d have to go through the house.

You sank to your knees, clutching at the frigid blades of grass, which helped steady you a little. Tears still pouring down, you tried to steady your breathing as best as you can, when you heard your name being called.

It was Noah. You didn’t want to answer him. Didn’t want him to see you like this. In your head, you prayed a silent prayer he would go back into the house and let you compose yourself in peace.

God, however, had other plans.

“Shit,” Noah said as he turned the corner of the shed and found you. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” He knelt down in front of you, trying to get a look at your face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you choked out.

“Shit,” he said again, noticing your tears. “Come on, let me walk you home.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to go back through there.” You hid your face, feeling ashamed at your own reaction.

“Come on, let’s talk,” he said, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you to your feet.

“I said I’m fine,” you protested. This time it came out sharper. You didn’t want to take your feelings out on him, but you found it impossible to control your tone in the moment.

“Let’s at least get you into a quiet room. Come on, my studio is in this shed. Nobody will bother you. Promise.”

At the promise of a quiet space with nobody to see you, you relented and allowed him to lead you around the side of the shed. He unclipped a set of keys from a carabiner on his belt loop and used one of them to unlock the door, ushering you inside. He relocked it behind him and plugged in a set of string lights that cast the room in a warm, dim glow.

“Have a seat,” he said and gestured to the couch that lined the wall on one side. You obeyed, sitting on the couch and doubling over, arms crossed over your legs and head buried in them. You continued to work to steady yourself.

Noah set a box of tissues beside you, and then rolled his desk chair in front of where you were sitting. He sat facing you, long legs on either side of your knees. Then he placed his hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You nodded into your arms. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded again.

“What happened?” he asked, voice softer now.

“I had a panic attack.” Your voice came out muffled.

“Because of the song?” he said.

You nodded again.

“Shit,” he said for the third time.

“And I got elbowed in the face.”

“Shit.” A fourth. “Can I see?”

You shook your head no.

“Please? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your head to show him.

He let out a compressed breath. “Oof. Yeah, it looks like you’ve got yourself a bit of a shiner,” he said, cupping your face gently.

You refused to meet his eyes, instead opting for a tissue so you could blow your nose. An embarrassing amount of mucus shot into the tissue. Then you pulled a second one to wipe off any makeup that may have smeared.

“Does it hurt?”

You sniffled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Is that your favorite word or something?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you about the crowd. I’m so used to that stuff now. I forget what it’s like for someone who’s never been to a show like that before.”

“It’s fine,” you said.

“It’s not though. I’d been drinking. I didn’t have my wits about me, and because of that you got hurt.”

You sighed. “It wasn’t the elbow,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. His brows furrowed with concern and he let his hands slide down to rest on your knees, thumbs rubbing gentle circles over them. You could only handle eye contact for a second before you had to look away again. “Is that how you really feel?”

Noah puffed out a breath. “I didn’t want you to have to see that.”

“I knew you had a lot of anger. But not that much.”

He dropped his head, staring at where his hands rested on your knees. “It must have been pretty jarring.”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I think it was just a lot for me. I was out of my comfort zone all night, and then that happened. I’ve never seen so many people with such…disdain for God.”

Noah dug his thumbnail into your thigh softly and bit his lip.

“I know.”

“Why though? Why all the anger? Why the hate? And why do you hang out with those people?”

“I’m one of them,” he said. “I know it might be hard to digest, especially since you’ve been protected from it for so long, but there are a lot of people out there who feel that way. It doesn’t necessarily make them bad people.”

“But that wasn’t just anger. That was hate.” 

“Yeah,” he said, cupping the backs of your thighs. He still wasn’t explaining anything and you were growing frustrated.

“What am I not getting?” you finally asked.

Noah hesitated, fingers drawing patterns over your pants.

“Not everyone has the best upbringing,” he explained, voice tender. “There are people born into shitty situations and they never receive the help or support they need. Life doesn’t provide opportunities to them the way it does for some others, and after a while, the injustice of it all gets to be too much.”

He gave you an opportunity to respond, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“My parents were addicts. I think I already mentioned it. And I was born in a town where half the people don’t make it to 18 without an addiction of some sort. Ruffilo and I were lucky to escape, but I’ve seen friends and families torn apart by drugs and crime. I’ve seen pregnant 14-year-old girls turn to prostitution to afford their drug habits. Do you know how hard that is to watch?”

You shook your head.

“If God exists, how can I not be angry with him for allowing shit like that to happen?”

You were at a loss for words, humbled even in your hurt.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, squeezing your thighs with his hands. “I don’t judge you for how you feel about God. But I do need you to accept that this part of me exists. And it’s not going anywhere. At least, not for a while.”

A couple more tears dripped from your lashes and landed on Noah’s hands. He didn’t flinch away. Instead, he brought a thumb up to your cheekbones and wiped off the remaining wetness that clung to your lashes.

“Look. I don’t know if I believe in God. But if he does exist, and he’s as loving as you say he is, I have to believe he’ll forgive me for how I act in my anger. I think he’ll understand why that anger is necessary for me to feel, and I don’t think he’d punish me for it. If anything, I think he’d allow me to move through it for as long as I need. Or want me to, even, so that I can process it and eventually move on.”

As Noah spoke, something washed over you like a wave. A tension that had been growing inside of you for as long as you could remember began to release, and with it came a brand new understanding.

“Noah,” you whispered. “Have you ever thought about being a pastor?”

Noah’s face broke into a smile and he huffed out a breath of air that fanned out over your face. He smelled like stale beer and smoke, but there was another layer underneath that smelled vaguely sweet.

“That is the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“No, I’m serious,” you said with a sniffle, and wiped away another tear. “You know more about God than any church leader I’ve met.”

“I think sometimes it’s hard to see the bigger picture when you’re too close,” he whispered, face now much closer to yours. “I have the benefit of having stepped away.”

You were silent for a moment, digesting the conversation. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but you weren’t ready to go back and rejoin the party.

“Can I show you something I’ve been working on?” asked Noah.

“Sure,” you said.

He kicked his feet into the floor and pushed back from where you were sitting, rolling across the floor and over to his desk. He fiddled with a few wires and switches before opening his laptop and pulling up a program.

“I’ve had this melody in my head for a while,” he said, messing with some of the controls before hitting play. “I don’t have any words yet, but I wanted to show you.”

A soft melody began playing through the speakers. Somber. Completely different from any of the songs you’d heard during their set. 

“How long have you been working on this?” you asked as the music played.

“A couple of weeks,” he said, not offering much more explanation.

He wouldn’t meet your eye. Rather, he fidgeted with an auxiliary cable, twisting it around in his hands while simultaneously bouncing his legs up and down softly in time with the drums on the track.

The slow melody held out through the song, but the music grew in intensity, settling into a low-fi R&B vibe.

Seemingly growing restless, Noah spun back around in his chair to face you. He muttered something but you were unable to decipher it over the music.

“What?” you asked.

“I’ve been experimenting with different styles,” he said, a little louder. “Hoping to expand my skills.”

“I like this,” you said. “Definitely more to my tastes.”

He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “Metal isn’t for everyone.”

“I see the appeal of it,” you said. “I’m sure it resonates with a lot of people, even if I’m not one of them. Your band has a lot of…uh…passionate fans.”

The smile reached both sides of his mouth and he inched closer to you.

“What made you decide to come tonight?” he asked, and you knew it was important for you to be honest in that moment.

“I wanted to see you.”

Like a magnet to metal, Noah gravitated toward you again. There were no false pretenses for why. He wanted to be near you.

Resuming his position from earlier, he sat across from you, legs stretched out on either side of yours. He leaned back in his fancy office chair, and you mirrored him, sinking deeper into the couch.

You watched him watching you, scanning his features for any signals as to what was going on inside his head at that moment. The music played out through the speakers and neither of you made any efforts to fill space or silence. When the song reached its conclusion, it stopped automatically, and it was a while before anyone spoke.

“Does it have a name?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Not yet,” he said.

“It’s good. I don’t have much music knowledge to say exactly what it is that I like about it, but I can tell I like it. I’d be interested in seeing how it progresses.”

“Good,” he said, arms folded over his torso. He swiveled slightly from left to right, knees knocking into yours as he did.

You looked from your legs back up to his face and he met your gaze. Normally, you’d be the first one to break a silence like this, finding discomfort in the tension, but that night, you waited, wanting to see what Noah would do.

It took a long time for him to crack, but when he finally did, it was to ask you a question.

“Did you do what we talked about?”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to be more direct with his question.

“Masturbate?” The word held a slight choked sound, as if there’d been an obstacle in his throat trying to get it out.

You nodded.

“How was it?”

“It…was.”

And that was the truth. You’d made an attempt, but experienced a few difficulties. While you went into it with the intention of showing love to yourself without shame, getting rid of that shame was easier said than done.

For one, you couldn’t imagine yourself agreeing to have sex without feeling guilty, which forced you to jump through several mental hoops involving being restrained and forced in order to feel like you had any sort of plausible deniability you could use should God choose that moment to judge you.

However, in doing that, you felt extremely guilty for engaging in that fantasy, because any real victim of sexual assault would not be thinking about it that way, and should you really be romanticizing that kind of thing? You ended up heavily judging yourself before God even had a chance to judge you.

“I ran into some…difficulties.”

“Mentally or physically?” he asked, left thigh pressed up against your right.

“I think mental.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed. “Yeah, kind of. But don’t judge me, okay?”

“If you pictured Isaac, I’m going to have to judge you.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t picture Isaac.”

“Good. Who did you picture?”

“Nobody,” you lied. “Just some nameless, faceless person.”

Up until that point, the conversation had flowed quickly like a game of table tennis, but the lie threw off the rhythm. Noah wasn’t satisfied. He allowed you to get away with it and didn’t press you on it, but now it was his turn for something.

He leaned forward, hands resuming their place on your knees, and looked at you as if he dared you to protest.

You didn’t.

“What difficulties did you have?”

You hesitated. He dug his thumbnail into your thigh.

“I had to imagine myself being forced.”

“Forced?” His hands stilled.

“Like tied up.”

His eyebrow quirked upward. His gaze dropped to where your hands rested in your lap. Sliding his hands up your legs, he encircled your wrists in his long fingers and turned them so they faced upwards, palms open to the sky as if in praise. He kept a tight hold while his eyes flicked briefly back up to meet yours.

Noah was playing a game of chicken. Seeing how far he could push you until you cracked.

“It’s a common fantasy,” he said, voice low and breathy. “Makes sense.”

“You don’t think it’s messed up?”

Noah rubbed his thumbs along the inside of your wrists, stopping every once in a while to apply pressure to different points. He stared at them while he spoke.

“I try not to judge myself for my fantasies. As long as there’s consent, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“You don’t think that it’s disrespectful to people who have been forced in real life?”

He sucked on the inside of his cheek and released it with a clicking sound before taking a deep breath. “Many survivors actually find healing through engaging in that kink.” 

“It’s hard to imagine myself consenting without the guilt creeping in.”

Noah nodded. “Understandable. You’ll give it when you’re ready.”

You closed your eyes and indulged in the pressure he put on your wrists. Your skin ignited under his touch, the same way it had when his fingers had brushed the back of your neck all those weeks ago. He trailed his fingers along your palms and your hands closed reflexively around them.

“Is that something you think you’d be into in real life?” he asked. You could hear the shuffling of movement, but didn’t open your eyes. Your fingers continued to dance together with his.

“Hard to say,” you said. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“What’s this?” he asked, finding the silver ring on your left ring finger.

“Promise ring,” you answered.

“Like an engagement ring?” he asked.

“A symbol of a promise to God to stay pure until marriage.” His hands stilled. “We all got one in school.”

Noah pinched the ring between his two fingers.

“Is that something you’re still committed to?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

You opened your eyes to look at Noah, who had vacated his chair and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you.

Holding eye contact, he began to slide the ring up your finger.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Just let me try something.” He removed the ring, sticking it in his back pocket for safe keeping. “How does that feel?”

“Light.”

The ring was soldi metal. It weighed heavy on your hand and the absence of it wasn’t unwelcome. This was the first time you’d taken it off since first receiving it. It was both taboo and invigorating.

“When did you make that promise?”

“When I was thirteen.”

“Before you even knew what sexuality was?”

You nodded.

“How cruel,” he said, dropping his hands back to your knees and prying them open so he could wedge his body between them. “Binding yourself to a promise you made before you even knew what you were promising.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” you said, trying not to blush. Noah’s body between your legs was a brand new sensation that left you feeling like your entire lower half was engulfed flames.

His greedy hands migrated to the backs of your knees and he tugged you forward on the couch so your faces were mere inches apart. His breath ghosted across your neck.

Your composure began to crack, breath speeding up, and you hoped he couldn’t tell. Saliva pooled on your tongue. You found yourself unable to look anywhere but his bottom lip, wondering how it would taste. How it would feel between your teeth.

Noah had grown bolder with every move you let him get away with. Any moment, he’d move in for the kill.

“You don’t owe your body to anyone,” he said. “Not even to God.”

“God gave me this body,” you countered.

“Yeah. He did. It’s yours to take care of. Bodies have needs.”

“And you think you’re the one to meet those needs, Noah?”

His fingers clutched hungrily at your thighs. “I could be.”

His tongue poked out to wet his lips. He’d been building towards this conclusion the whole evening, and now it was time for him to make his move. Noah was going to kiss you.

Two things happened simultaneously. Noah tugged you closer, and in his movement, the shiny black horns on the top of his head caught the light and drew your eye to them.

Your gut clenched.

Not yet. 

“I should—,” you began a second too late. Noah’s mouth collided with your jaw, and as soon as it registered in his mind, he jumped back as if he’d been burned. “I should, um,” you cleared your throat, “go check on Ava. She’s never drank before. Wouldn’t want her doing anything she’d regret.”

He sat back on his heels, hand coming up to wipe at something on the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course.” His dejection was evident in his voice and the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“See you Saturday?” you asked, standing up.

“Sure,” he said, blinking up at the ceiling. The defeated slump of his shoulders was what fully broke you. With one last look of apology, you unlocked the door and slipped out. Halfway across the yard, you heard a banging sound from the shed, as if something had been kicked.

You rushed inside to find Ava.

_________________ Taglist: @sundamariis

Let me know if you want to be put on the taglist, either by commenting below or sending me a message. Also please leave a comment if you've enjoyed this and want me to continue this story. I'd love to hear your feedback.

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #Noah Sebastian #noah sebastian smut #sorry Noah Sebastian

[anxy76]

🍷Overworked

Presented to you by anxy76

Enjoy!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

It was a dull night, I just got back from Lord Diavolos Castle, I was required to help around for the upcoming party

I slowly put my bag down, feeling pretty tired from all the work I did, but there was one thing I had to check before heading back to sleep

Someone who's been working way too much, the random footsteps from afar could be heard

I slowly walk towards the familiar door, the one I enter almost each and every night thought for the past week I couldn't have made it due to Diavolos' requirements.

Slowly putting my ear next to door, trying to listen if there was any sound inside, a stern voice making me flinch

"I swear if it's you, Mammon, again, I'll hang you upside down!" Lucifer shouted in a clearly annoyed tone, and it could be very much heard through the door

I press the handle and open the door. Lucifer is already staring at it

"Sorry ,Lucifer, I just wanted to check on you. I haven't seen you in a while" keeping my voice as soft as possible, seeing that Lucifer was not in the mood for anything

He just stared at me, right into my eyes. The moonlight was going over his face, making Lucifers features more noticeable, but just when he was about to speak, the second oldest voice was heard

"OI human! Where have ya been all day?! Come 'ere! No more waisting time here. " Mammon grabbed my hand and pulled me out of Lucifers office just as if he no longer wanted to see me in there

"Mammon- wait! Hold on!" I tried stopping him, but there was no chance he'd actually listen to me. Sometimes, I wonder why Mammon isn't the avatar of envy. That would suit him more... when it comes to me.

He kept talking, but instead of listening, I was continuously looking back, hoping Lucifer would come and take me away from his brother and that I'd be in his embrace... but that did not happen because while staring back at the corridor, I could see the door slowly closing back.

As the both of us reached my room, I spoke in a silent yet tired voice.

"I should get some rest, uhm thanks for bringing me to my room...I need to wake up early to help Lord Diavolo out" I groan reminding myself that I indeed need to help out and it was already late.

Mammon looked at me dissapointed yet he did not give up and invited himself in my room starting up a conversation that took atleast three more hours but what can I say other than it was indeed fun, we laughed, giggled , played some games and even comforted eachothers.

Thought my mind was still set on Lucifer,quite worried actually he hadn't left his office since the last time I actually visited him...he'll I hope he's taking care of himself and not overworking.

I brush my thoughts aside, watching as Mammon slowly leaves my room waving goodbye. The moon shined brighter as the time went by, I had to at least get a bit of sleep, I had to help them out, or else Diavolo would be disappointed

My eyes slowly closed, bringing me to my slumber, helped by my blanket, a very comfortable and puffy one.... I didn't even realise I didn't change my clothes due to how tired I was, and we'll because I got distracted by the sin of greed, Mammon.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

Time passed very fast

Diavolos party was starting to look amazing. The finishing touches, making it look absolutely stunning, I was proud of myself for being able to help with so many things my eyes flickering satisfying with all of it, as I take one more look at everything.

I was incredibly happy, but I still felt like something was missing.Someone was missing

Where was he?

I haven't seen his face for the past weeks.

Should I go look for him?

All the questions rang in my head, I needed to know how he was doing.

My mind was made up. I was gonna go search for him. As I was about to go, Lord Diavolo snapped me back to the party

"Ah... yes, the finishing touches, how could I forget I still had to help..!"softly whispering to myself, at how forgetful I get when it comes to the avatar of pride...

Kinda dissapointed at the fact that I can't go see him right now. Oh, how I wish...

The faster I finish this, the quicker I'll get to him!

Or so I thought....

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

For the past hours, I've been helping, it seems as Diavolos thoughts had no stop...!

I'm so tired... After all, im just a human doing all this work.

"Diavolo... we finished everything. Isn't it time to let us go back?" I asked a bit confused since we finished the actual plan a few hours ago.

"Ah yes! But there's so many ideas so much to do!" He responded with his iconic laugh."Sorry (y/n) you can go rest. I understand you don't have the energy as us the demons."

I took a deep breath in. Finally, I can go check on him.

"Thank you!" I respond eagerly, ready to leave.

I didn't usually walk alone in the devildom. It was dangerous for... a human that's what everyone told me, i was supposed to wait for one of the brothers to walk with me towards the House of Lamentation, but I was too worried about the oldest brother, so instead of waiting I was speeding towards the house.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

Quickly making my way in rushing towards Lucifers office, I slowly knock on the door but only for it to get no response.

"Lucifer?" I ask softly, deciding to open the door as I pull it open

I'm peeking my head inside the room as I see him. His head was lying on the table, probably way too tired to get to his room.

I wonder how long he has been here for?

For how long has he been skipping meals?

"Lucifer.." I call out again his name as I comb my fingers through his hair

He started to stir a bit, and then he brought his head up to look at me

"(y/n)? why are you here? I must've fallen asleep. I have to get back to my work. Thank you for waking me."But my mind was made to at least get him to rest for a bit.

"You need to rest the work can wait," looking him directly in the eyes... his eyes looked so tired, so exhausted."You've been working for the past weeks for what I know. You deserve a break, so please let me help you."

He looked at me, debating if he should listen to me or not... but he knew I wouldn't stop until he rested.

"Alright then." he got up, looking just as exhausted, but instead of walking towards the door, he came to me. "But you're also resting with me, don't think I didn't know you've also been working more than you should of." his hands made their way around my waist , holding me close.

My cheeks turned into a soft red. "But unlike you, I got rest from time to time..!" complaining at his statement.

"Let's head to my room." pulling me towards him, not letting go of my hand as he took the lead into getting us towards his room.

At that time, I forgot I didn't change my clothes due to the hurry I was in. "I think I'll head to my room." I told him

"You're not spending the night with me?" his voice sounded dissapointed, he wanted me to stay , and who was I to decline?

"I'll just change my clothes and come right back, alright?" As I turned my head towards the direction of my room

"I can give you some spare clothes." he responded quickly, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside the room "I don't want you to leave."

I watched him as he got me the spare clothes he had already changed, and so was I about to do as well.

It took me a few minutes, but I finished, I went into the bed right next to Lucifer.

He put his hands around me and pulled me, holding me against his chest. His heartbeat was going fast yet soft like a nice melody.

His voice was soft as he said, "How I wished we'd do this again, I'm sorry I got so worked up with all the paperwork my dear (y/n)" as he held me as close as possible

"It's alright, I was just worried since you haven't been getting rest" I whispered out my thoughts "I want you to take more care of yourself."

"Anything for you my dear."

Those were the last words exchanged from the both of us as we fall into a deep slumber both of us happily in eachothers arms again after so long.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #anime and manga #dating sim #obey me shall we date brothers #house of lamentation #obey me diavolo

[enden-agolor]

I LOOOVE all of your aus, especially forest deity and sdv!! The way you designed both Lukas and Jesse in each AU you have is amazing, I absolutely admire the attention to detail and such :) Something about your au’s have me absolutely hooked, and I’m not complaining. Keep up the great work, Enden!! you don’t know how obsessed I am with your silly stories of stupid little minecraft blocks… 🙏

Also a jesskas forest deity AU is so cool. I don’t have any idea how you were able to come up with something as interesting as it, and the way you planned out the story was amazing as well! I always wonder if Jesse will actually show his normal form to Lukas (since you mentioned he was able to revert to his normal self but the town still wouldn’t accept him either way iirc) but we’ll have to see it for ourselves. I lovelovelovee your work so much and I’m excited for future au content !!

Dude thank you so much 🥺

I love designing characters and for some reason Lukas and Jesse are just so fun to play around with in regards to their designs. Maybe it's because their canon designs are so simple, yet compliment each other so well, like Lukas' magenta stripes alongside Jesse's green suspenders. Then the rest of their pallet is pretty natural colors. I really like to keep their designs simple when drawing them. I try to imagine, would they actually wear this? Does this color fit his style? I like to keep them in pretty casual clothes you would see when passing someone out in public, or when shopping at a nice clothes store. This definitely goes for the sdv au.

In forest deity au, Lukas maintains a professional look. Outfits that you would see and think, "oh this guy means business", because he's an author, so he wants to dress the role. He wears a lot of warm, darker colors. Nothing too bright and flashy that would make him stand out. He's the kind of guy who dresses like he's always going to work. Jesse, on the other hand, he wears a lot of dark colors with purpose, as a means of fitting in with the darkness that shrouds the forest he lives in. He wears a lot of dark leather gear to keep his body protected. He's always pretty dirty, because well, he lives out there alone and has no means of impressing anyone with appearances, so why bother? The only one who seems to be intrigued in his appearance is Lukas.

On that other note, we came up with the au kind of randomly. My bf and I like to throw ideas at each other, and since we were already invested in the normal Admin au, I remember jokingly playing into this idea of Admin Jesse being this big bad wolf kind of role and Lukas being a little red riding hood. Discovering each other in the woods for the first time, except we kind of built this story over time and I started making the designs and I was like. Fuck. Jesse is big, scary, mute, and in love with this little blond freak that won't leave him alone 🧍I am OBSESSED with that. But yeah that's basically how it happened and now the lore has gotten pretty intense. The story is full of angst and plot built off of canon. A very hurt/comfort slow burn kind of story.

But anyways I'm so excited to share more. Your questions will be answered eventually. Trust me, I wish I could answer them, but with plot and context it will be so, so much more satisfactory. So stay tuned, and thanks again for this ask, I love seeing everyones little thoughts on this au!

#ask #forest deity au

[leebrontide]

Every single time I see a take that amounts to "if you write about X happening, or like fiction where X happens, you like X" I'm reminded of this one time I was at a casual friends house as a young kid. We were in her room, pretending to "be orphans" escaping from an evil orphanage and having to take care of each other and fend for ourselves. It was all very Little Orphan Annie/All Dogs Go to Heaven and based on the 80s pop media.

And this girl's mom comes in, hears what we're playing and gets all MAD and UPSET. She says that if we play act something, it's because we want it to happen. So her daughter must WANT HER TO DIE.

First off lady, we were 6 year year olds, so take it down several notches. We barely had a concept of mortality for fucks sake. She made us feel so guilty and ashamed, because she was taking our game personally.

Now I have a 5 year old. And sometimes she looks at me and says "pretend you're dead, and I have to -" Whatever it is. Some adult task she's assigned herself.

And it's just so transparently obvious that she's practicing the idea of having to do things on her own. Which is exactly what 5 year olds are supposed to do. I actually find it very flattering that the only way she can envision me not being available to help her is to be literally deceased. Otherwise, obviously, she wouldn't have to do scary hard things alone.

It's a natural coping mechanism. She's self-soothing about what would happen if I wasn't there by play-acting independence in a perfectly safe environment. She's also practicing skills she needs, and making up excuses for practicing them on her own, without taking on the responsibility of being able to do them by herself all the time yet.

Humans mentally rehearse bad this in their brains all the time. We can do that by ruminating- going over worries over and over again, which tends to lead to anxiety and helplessness and depression. Or we can do it with a sense of play- by recognizing that the fiction is fiction and we can dip our toe into these experiences and expose ourselves to bad things without actually being injured.

My daughter does not want me dead. And I don't want bad things to happen in real life. But fiction and pretend help me face the horrors of the world and think about them without collapsing or messing myself up mentally.

[thylacines-toybox]

Hey, I found a beanie boo that I liked the design of but I can't stand those giant uguu eyes. Do you think it would be possible to replace them with smaller safety eyes akin to the old beanie babies? If yes, do you have any advice?

I was gonna answer this in a normal way, but then I got curious about trying it for myself and thought I might as well demonstrate!

So, I went and picked up a guy from the supermarket. The selection there was pretty barren today but I found a decent test subject:

Eye replacement procedure below!

(First of all, to my friend who loves beanie boos, I am so sorry for this lmao)

So! First I opened up the closing seam on his back. However, I found an extra mesh barrier inside! Clearly this is to prevent bean escape since this is the most likely seam to accidentally pop open through play. This would be a bit annoying to work around so I just sewed it back up and went in the back of the head instead…

Opened and unstuffed the head…

…And turning it inside out to get to the backs of the eyes. Whoa, these plastic washers are the biggest I’ve ever seen!! Cutting through them will take some work!

Please be very careful of your fingers cutting through these!! Be careful not to cut the fabric around the eye too, but mostly be careful of yourself!

Anyway grrrrrrr attack attack slice slice grrrr

They’re out! With a little glue I think the washers would be able to hold on perfectly well again. I’ll keep these eyes to reuse on something where they’ll be a bit more proportional!

The washers on these eyes are particularly cup shaped, fitting around the back of the eye and holding the fabric tightly against them. Now that the eyes are removed, this has left imprints on the fur!

Plenty of brushing and rumfling will help to fix the creased and flattened areas of fur, and wetting the fur or gently steaming over a hot cup of water should help too. It might take a little time!

(Also, I did make a little cut in the cheek while removing a washer, oops! No worries, that can be stitched up.)

Now we can try on a few new eye styles! Restuff the head for now so you can see how they’ll look.

I have a few sizes of solid black, from teeny dots to absolute tbh creature…

These blue eyes were a little scary… no thanks!

I even have some glittery ones like the original, but smaller! Pretty nice actually!

And even some googly eyes hehehe!

But my favourite eyes were some basic 9mm black ones! They are placed a little funny here, but the position will change a little bit…

The holes left by the original eyes were very big, so a couple of stitches are needed on each one to tighten them up to fit the new eyes. I stitched the top outer corners, to move the holes down and inwards a bit. If you wanted, you could even sew them closed completely and make new eye holes elsewhere!

Unstuff again and pop those new eyes in!

Restuff! You might actually need to add a little extra stuffing, as the fabric not being so pulled around the eyes any more will mean it is a little ‘baggier’.

Then sew the head closed again and that’s about it! The fur is still a little creased around mine, but I’ll keep working at it and it should become less visible.

To add a tiny bit more shape to the big round head, I also did a touch of threadsculpting. I ran a thread from the corner of each eye to below the chin and back, just pulling the eyes in a tad more. You might decide you don’t need this!

And there we go! Hope you’ll try it yourself!

#thyl-ask-ine #toys #plushie #modded toy #plushie modification #plushie advice #beanie babies #beanie boo

[fangisms]

hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific

darling socialite

A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words

Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)

Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.

Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.

"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"

Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"

"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."

"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"

"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"

"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.

"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"

Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.

If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.

You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.

It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."

"What are you talking about, P?" you say.

"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"

"Thanks, Pansy," you say.

"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"

You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.

…

There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.

"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.

"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"

"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"

"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."

Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.

And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.

"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.

"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.

"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"

Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.

"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."

You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.

"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."

It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.

"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"

He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.

“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.

“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.

“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”

He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.

“Like that?” he says.

“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”

He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”

“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”

masterlist

#theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #fluff #fanfic #hp universe #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #x fem!reader #theo nott x fem!reader #friends to lovers

[wonryllis]

✶ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝒟𝐎𝐋𝐋? RICH BOY ENHYPEN PINNING AFTER YOU.

目录──────𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌.

𝓉𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗘 ⋅ enhypen showing that you're not just one of the girls. wordcount total 2882 (approx 0.4k each) ⭑ CONTAINS— female!reader, fluff, suggestive, lots of swearing. % strongly recommend listening to ›› the respective songs while reading! jungwon's is inspired by ␥ kavin and kaning. ( THE ARCHIVE? ) PLS REBLOG ><

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

ぃ ⏤ now playing. HELLGIRL BY ARI ABDUL

"shit. you gotta wear this one, angel," heeseung groans in satisfaction, ignorant and indifferent to the fact that all the store employees could hear him, someone who never brings over girls to places like these, going insane over one. and the fact that you were unable to wrap your head around this situation just yet.

it was surreal and it was nerve wrecking. but heeseung was adamant that he needed you.

needed you to dress so fucking gorgeous and stand by his side as his date for the night while he paraded around greeting his parents' guests. showing them that he is capable of being committed by bringing along a partner for the first time ever. that's what he tells you—

"is this really fine?" you ask again, hands dusting over the sleek satin hugging your skin in a way that it tickled. heeseung stands up and strides overs to where you stand, arms sliding around your waist to pull you against him. "it's more than fine, absolutely stunning," leaning into your neck to leave kisses, "and so hot," right infront of everyone, no one daring to say a word to him, except you.

you who has been an exception to all his rules, you who has made him want to do things he has never wanted to before. you who has swept him off his feet.

you push against his chest in an attempt to stop him,"we'll be late, should go now," he hums in a low growl, lips nipping right against your ear before he pulls away with much exasperation almost unsated. clicking his tongue in annoyance for the staff to hurry the billing once he's done admiring you. unable to stand that anyone beside him see you dressed so pretty.

"just smile and follow my lead," heeseung tells you once you arrive at the venue. giving you an encouraging look as he instructs the valet to wait until you seem calm enough to step out. that's what he tells you— heart eyes and odd actions speaking for themselves. his hands find your waist when you finally walk up the stairs, breath shaky as you pass the entrance.

"relax angel, 'm right here, we can leave whenever you want," he kisses the side of your head, lips lightly touching your styled hair. never caring about who's looking and who's thinking what. if only you knew it too.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

ぃ ⏤ now playing. STAY BY ARI ABDUL

"look behind you, princess," the voice incoming from your phone suddenly sounds too loud, paired with faint footsteps coming to a halt. jay's lips break into a wide smile when you turn around in an instant to look at him. your eyes following his hands holding an enormous bouquet of red roses, before you notice anything else.

before you notice the want in his eyes. the want for you.

"jay? i thought you were in— " you speak into the phone, eyes locked with his, but before you can finish he hangs up the call. approaching you with quick steps and immediately pulling you into a kiss. one that's short but deep enough to convey his feelings. "berlin? yeah, but i flew back for you," he breathes out against your lips.

"why?" "you know why love," his fingers twirl the hair falling into face, tucking them away and cupping your cheek as he gives you a smile before stepping away.

he waits for you to say something, to address his feelings but like always you avoid it and like always jay lets you. alas there will come a time when you would no longer be able to deny his love, so until then he will continue to show you all ways you own his heart in. his forever princess."what about that conference you were going to attend with your dad?" you ask, accepting his bouquet.

watching him with a soft giggle as he struggles to pull out a single rose and place it behind your ear. "don't worry about it," in a reassuring tone he leads you to his car. teasing you of a surprise each time you question where you are headed.

asking you to have your eyes closed while he leads you to the rooftop of a high-rise building owned by his family, illuminated by pretty lights and flowery wreaths, and a firework show worth a million.

all just for you.

to pose a smile on your face and to be the one to put it. to be the reason of your happiness and to be the person beside you in your best memories,"happy new year, princess," jay whispers into you ear as you open your eyes to see all of it. "jay this—" you gasp in a trance, gaze hooked on the sky while his is fixated in the way the fireworks shine against your pretty orbs and the gloss on your lips,"it's all for you,"

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

ぃ ⏤ now playing. MEDDLE ABOUT BY CHASE ATLANTIC

"you owe me. you can't keep avoiding me forever, doll," jake chuckles, noticing how you turn the other way after catching a glimpse of him. finding it adorable how you do everything you can to not cross paths with him.

leaving him no choice but to wait for you outside your university, leaning against his black lykan hypersport; attracting unwanted attention while his eyes only look for your cute panicked figure amidst the crowd.

"i told you it was a mistake—" you refute, throwing a glare at his smug face as he drives right beside you, following your every step, nonchalant about all the stares you both get as long as you agree to him taking you out. "get in the car," or the other way round, he's fine with both. frustrated and knowing you'd never be able to escape him, you decide to give in.

"you owe me lunch," jake grins as his eyes watch you get into the passenger seat just like the passenger princess you are.

his passenger princess. first and last in his beloved car.

"jake this— isn't this too—" your heart skips beats at the sight of the dock and the luxury cruise restaurant closing in, scared and nervous about how much you'd have to spend but jake just shushes you. getting out the car first and coming over to open the door for you; one hand holding yours and the other cushioning your head as you step out.

"just let me have your time and i'll let you off of staining my prada with coffee," he begs, afraid you'd walk out of here if he were to tell you the real reason. if he were to tell you that you have his heart and no matter what you do his feelings are not changing. if he were to tell you he wanted to take you out to all these places and spoil you rotten and occupy your mind like you occupy his.

if he were to tell you it was indeed not your fault for he bumped into you on purpose to find an excuse to talk to you.

"but—" jake shushes you again, fingers rubbing against your lips as he shakes his head before pulling out the chair for you and helping you sit properly,"don't think too much doll, just do as i say, please?" planning to keep you busy until the sun goes down so he can take you to for a ride on his yacht.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

ぃ ⏤ now playing. BABYDOLL BY ARI ABDUL

"fuck baby, don't cry like that," sunghoon panics, his fingers grazing under your eyes to gently wipe the tears. afraid if he's not careful enough, he'll break you. "as much as i love the way you look so pretty like this, tears are not for someone like you," he has no idea how to soothe your frantically crying figure, slouched in the passenger seat against the expensive leather of his aston martin.

his hands fumble around in an attempt to think of ways he could just make you feel better and smile for him. those adorable crinkle of your eyes that have him whipped.

fuming each time he thinks of the moron who took that opportunity away from him by making you sad. he swears if he finds him, he'll beat the living daylights out of him. remind him not to linger anywhere around his girl.

sunghoon softly cups your cheek in his palm and leans in to kiss you, lips moving slow and sensual, "forget him, let me make you happy," he whispers into your mouth once he pulls away, foreheads touching and hands caressing your face lovingly. he makes sure your belt is secured before driving off to one of the luxury malls in the city, ones where you need to be of a certain level to enter.

a place you probably could never have the chance to enter if it weren't for him.

"my princess gotta shop her sadness out, hmm?" sunghoon coos as he stops outside the building, watching you gape in surprise, surprised himself that you are yet to realize just how much you mean to him.

"come on, i'll buy you whatever you lay your eyes on," he insists before you have the chance to deny him.

his hands rest at the back of your waist, leading you inside after handing his keys to the valet. dropping a soft kiss on your temple when you watch his vip card being inspected with a nervous breath of how elite this place has to be.

and knowing how new you must feel to all this, sunghoon pulls you closer with the intention of making it known that this is how it's gonna be from now, "get used to it, baby," you're not his yet but he's gonna treat you like you are. after all it's only a matter of time before it happens.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

ぃ ⏤ now playing. GOOD GIRL BY THOMAS LAROSA

"good girl, you did a great job," sunoo pats your head teasingly amused at the confusion adorning your features. "sunoo, what were you doing there! you don't even have marketing?" the way you close in, demanding an explanation assures him that you indeed were affect by his presence, by the eye contact he held with you the entire time you were giving your presentation.

walking into the lecture hall in the middle of it as if he owned the place and taking a seat at a spot that directly put him in your line of sight. smirking, raising his brows and pushing his tongue against his cheeks to distract and annoy you.

"would you believe me if i said i came to see you?" his hands took ahold of your wrists playing with your fingers as he waited for you to answer.

"liar," you whisper, suddenly conscious of the implication behind his words and it makes him chuckle, of course what did he expect? you're hard to get, and perhaps that's the reason he feels so attracted, almost crazy over you.

like something he has to have, someone he has to have.

he takes a step closer, his varsity hat poking against the top of your head as his eyes bore into yours just the way they did inside earlier,"see? what do you want me to say then?" he whispers back, tone suddenly changing into a serious one. "you can't just enter any class like that," your innocent claim goes through him from one ear and falls through the other. how naive you are.

"i can if it's my dad's university," he can't help but chuckle at the expression on your face when you put the pieces together and realize it. all those times you came across him in places with strict attendance, it all made sense now.

"as adorably as you scold me, you're gonna see me everywhere you go," sunoo warns, leaning in impossibly close, lips hovering over yours,"you should stop fooling yourself baby,"

his hands move from your wrists to rest against the wall behind, voice dropping an octave,"and you should stop fooling around just because you can," you bite back, pressing your palm into his chest to push him back. "i'm fooling around because i want you, and i will have you," "you—" "we have a party this weekend at our summer villa, come with me?"

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

ぃ ⏤ now playing. SINNERS BY ARI ABDUL AND THOMAS LAROSA

"jungwon? what are you doing here? are you okay?" it makes jungwon happy to see you worrying about him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pant as he watches you walk around the counter to his figure by the door. finding his cerulean blue chevrolet corvette 2lz parked in his usual spot, and him still dressed in the armani and hermès set you saw him in an hour ago when he dropped you off at your uncle's flower shop.

"mhm, just wanted to see my pretty girl again," he grins cockily once you realize there's nothing wrong and he's just trying playing around like always.

albeit to jungwon, it's never been a play and you have never been a toy.

this has been his way of showing you that you're not just another girl he's chasing after; because yang jungwon has never chased as opposed to what you think. and to harbour such deep and honest feelings that compel him to do what he has never done, that should have given you the hint by now. perhaps he'll just have to try a tad bit harder.

"how do you wear this?" he struts inside, passing by you to the space behind the counter you previously stood at, dangling a lone apron by his pinky and raising his brows at you, waiting. "your clothes will get dirty!" your attempts to curb him fall through for jungwon's persistence to stay with you holds like a strong wall, incapable of budging.

"i don't really care," jungwon's hands loop around the strings in a way that has the apron falling off making you giggle as you give in and just step in to help him,"idiot, that's not how you do it," you mumble.

and all he can think of is how he wants to be your idiot.

"how does this look? i think it looks so pretty on you," he says, putting a messy wreath on your head. to jungwon there's always flowers blooming everywhere you go, sweet scent overtaking all his scenes believing that's how you intoxicated him.

you slap away his hands in a shy chuckle that he doesn't understand, did he say something wrong? not aware and quite literally clueless of his own effect. by the time the sun sets down, you're asleep with your head down on the counter, facing him. and jungwon admires the way you looks so pretty, prettier than any flower.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

ぃ ⏤ now playing. STUCKINMYBRAIN BY CHASE ATLANTIC

"riki?" oh. you're here? riki looks up at the sound of your footsteps getting closer, halting a metre away from him, like you always do, not too close, not too far and it drives him crazy. "what are you doing here?" you ask, confused to find him waiting outside your mundane apartment building with his out of place red ferrari sf90.

"uh, you left this in the car last time," he fumbles out a dior liquid blush, clearly brand new and a shade you have never used before.

"that's not mine," giggling, you walk over to the other side, opening the passenger seat door to fish out the gloss you actually did leave and waving it in the air to show him,"this is mine richboy," the soft sounds of laughter, your teasing voice.

his favorite thing in the world as of late.

you who has him smitten with infatuation, unable to get you off his mind no matter how much he tries. you who never gives him the answer he wants but never pushes him away either. you who makes him feel like a pathetic loser, you who makes him want to try as many times as he can to win your heart.

"it's a gift," he quickly improvises, wanting you to accept it, of getting a chance to give you something. "you're gifting me a blush?" you question and it throws him off, blush?,"wait, it's not a lipgloss— i, i had no idea, i have never—" riki swears, he really had no clue,"bought makeup?" he nods and it makes you burst into a fit of laughter again. it warms his heart, leaning against his car and watching you with eyes that speak volumes of his feelings.

feelings that anyone could notice, anyone but you.

he lets you revel in his silly naivety, content to know you are not longer sad as you were a few days ago.

"now this suits you pretty little face," he says once you seem to calm down, bewildered at his sudden compliment while he walks over to you.

cupping your face and caressing your cheeks,"so pretty," mumbling under his breath, loud enought to reach your ears,"it's boring when you cry, baby," his lips hover over your own as both of your heartbeats pick up in sync, breath getting caught up at the shift in the atmosphere. "let's go on a drive, we'll get you a bunch of pretty glosses to wear for me,"

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @snoopypupp @enhabooks @jjunae @criminalyun

#enhypen imagines #k-labels #SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME GET INSIDE HEESEUNG'S SCENARIO #the way i changed riki's part like five times ㅠㅠ #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #divider by saradika graphics

[yeetus-feetus]

Today my mother made me go to the beach. And while I was there I let myself enjoy the water and sand between my toes.

After a little while I felt like crying.

I felt like crying because remembered the videos I had seen of Palestinian children playing in the water of their beaches, of parents chasing children around while they laughed, of people enjoying the water and feeling the sand between their toes.

Then I thought about how these people don't get to enjoy their beaches anymore. Because Israel won't let them, because Israel is bombing the families who used to play in the sand.

When we got in the car my mum rolled all the windows down, said something about the fresh air. And as we drove I felt the cool wind against my face, in my hair.

And I wanted to cry.

Because the people in Gaza don't get to just enjoy the fresh air. Because all they're breathing in is debris from destroyed buildings and white phosphorus, and the smell of the dead.

I looked out my window and saw my old school as we passed. And I felt guilty, because I dropped out. But their are children in Palestine who are crying and begging to go back to school and they can't.

The children in Gaza can't go back to school because Israel has destroyed and bombed them.

And I think about the displaced people taking refuge in those very schools while Israel attacked them. I think about how unfair and cruel that is.

And then I see the trees. My favourite trees, Gum trees that are native to my land. And I think about how the native trees in Gaza are being destroyed and bulldozed, very important trees that mean a lot to the Palestinian people. And those trees are being taken away by Israel.

Then there are houses, homes and people going about their day. I watch them from my car window and I want to cry still. Because the people in Gaza have no homes, they don't get to go about their day.

I think about the displaced people in Gaza, who are lucky to have a tent to sleep in. Because Israel has bombed their homes, rained white phosphorus above their homes, bulldozed over their homes, forced the Palestinian people to flee from their homes.

I'm barely holding in my tears, because I'm in the car on the way to my own home and the people in Gaza don't get to do that.

We pass the shops, and my throat starts to close up because there's people buying ice cream and groceries for their families. And the people in Gaza are being starved by Israel.

The people in Gaza don't get to have ice cream, they can't do their grocery shopping. They don't even have enough food for their own children because Israel refuses to let any aid trucks in, because they control all the borders and entries into Gaza.

We pass by a chemist in particular and I think about all the children in Gaza not being able to receive medical care. Because the hospitals are being attacked by Israel. Because no medical aid can get in. Because they have doctors being killed.

And then we pass by the park. The park is empty. And I think about the empty parks in Gaza. Because there are no children to play on the swings, no children to run and laugh. Because the children are crying instead. The children have no legs to play because they've been bombed. They can't laugh because white phosphorus has burned through their faces. They can't do anything because they are frozen in fear.

Theses children who should be filling up empty parks are holding their baby siblings, trying to keep them alive because their parents, aunt's and uncles, have all been slaughtered by the IDF. These children who should be laughing are screaming out for help because members of the IDF are raping them.

These children who should be having fun at the park are prisoners of Israel for throwing rocks at tanks like the boy David who threw a rock at the giant Goliath to save his people. And these children are being tortured in these prisons because they were hopeful and brave.

These children who should be with their families at the park are dying. Are dead. A lying beneath the ruble. Are cold and limp with no air in their lungs. These children are in pieces scattered across the blood drenched ground.

They should have been at the park today.

I can hear a man talking on the radio, and he's talking about unimportant nonsense things and I feel angry. I feel frustrated. Because why is no one else talking about this!? Why is no one talking about what's happening to these people!??

We pass by the fresh water creak right before my house and I want to scream! Because I know there's no fresh water in Gaza. I know there are Palestinians dying of dehydration and yet there is fresh, drinkable water running right there! But the water in Palestine has been polluted by blood and disease, and the seawater Israel has flooded their water supply with.

And when I get to my bed I finally scream and cry and punch my mattress to get all my emotions out.

Now I'm numb and writing this so that someone will see it, hoping that someone will understand, hoping that someone will fight even harder for the people of Palestine.

I'm hoping that they can enjoy their beaches again. I hope that's sometime soon.

#palestine #free palestine #save palestine #save gaza #gaza #i stand with palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #isreal #idf #fuck the idf #fuck isreal #end the occupation #occupied palestine

[sensivs]

Consider yourself lucky

heian era sukuna x male reader

A/n: I love glazing sukuna idc what anyone says sukuna is literally so fine and he has done nothing wrong, also i js wanna say ty to @ — mmonikurr for helping me w this :)

Cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT : dub-con , belly distortion , two cocks (sukuna) , manhandling , fear play , forced eye contact , begging , reader is stated to have a “feminine figure” but u don’t have to have one if u don’t want one 👍🏽 , praise kink (if u squint hard enough) , mentions of mpreg

Y/n’s eyes fixated on his once beloved clan ‘s home, his breathing came out raggedy and rushed, as if he just ran a marathon.

Who could’ve done such destruction on this big village?

Through the smoke y/n saw a large figure emerge, along with a slightly smaller figure walking beside it. The both of them bared no wounds and actually looked cleaner than ever.

Y/n slowly raised himself from his knees and began steadily walking backwards, keeping his eyes on the two figures who chatted away in front of his burning clan.

Y/n descended into the forest slowly but surely, occasionally making sure his footing was in the correct position. CRACK! Y/n’s face went pale as he realized what he had done.

A stick had perfectly positioned itself below y/n’s foot and snapped in half, causing the big sound. The man wasted no time in running as fast as he could, using the bases of the trees as small boosts as he booked it.

But tonight was not y/n’s night, as he then tripped and fell over an uprooted branch. Fear and adrenaline coursed through y/n’s veins but there was no time to get up, as both the large figure and smaller figure steadily made their way towards the fallen man.

Y/n did nothing but close his eyes and pray to himself that he would be able to survive this night and be able to see another day. The footsteps gradually became closer until they finally stopped by his feet.

“Uraume, check this boy for any injuries” a deep and menacing voice spoke, y/n heard “uraume” hum before being forced onto his knees and having to look into uruame’s red eyes.

Y/n stared into their eyes as they thoroughly checked his face, uruame’s fingers gracefully floated over y/n’s face, taking their time to touch and probe at the man’s face, occasionally rubbing some dirt off of y/n’s face.

“He’s all clear sir” uraume spoke before back to where they once stood. “Good to hear, I don’t want my playthings to be ugly with a face full of scars” the large figure walked towards y/n, their extremely buff and big figure making the smaller male on the ground cower more into the dirt in fear.

“Get up” the bigger male’s voice commanded. Y/n basically jumped to his feet, looking up at the other man’s face with tears in his eyes. “Hm, what a precious boy we have, truly much better looking than all the others” y/n’s cheeks became a sweet pink color as the compliment sunk into his skin.

A pair of large and course hands wrapped themselves around y/n’s waist, causing the male to gasp from the sudden touch. Another pair of hands caressed y/n’s face, “my name is sukuna ryomen , but to you, it ‘s master, got it?” Y/n nodded as soon as sukuna finished his introduction.

“What a feminine body you have.. are you sure you’re not a girl?” Y/n tensed up, “no master.. im no girl..” the smaller male said through trembling lips and in a tiny voice.

Sukuna hummed, “what a shame, I would’ve impregnated you the moment you said you were” y/n ‘s face grew hot with the thought of someone more huger than him rearranging his insides.

“Guess you’ll have to do for now” y/n let out a surprised gasp as he then felt his robe being undone and being swept off his shoulders. The cold air of the night breezed over y/n ‘s exposed skin, making him shiver.

“Aw, want me to warm you up sweet boy?” Sukuna ‘s words were laced with lust and desire, y/n opened his mouth to respond but was then cut off as sukuna ‘s bottom pair of arms lifting him off the ground as if he were nothing.

Y/n and sukuna were now at eye level with each other. Sukuna ‘s four eyes staring deep within the naked man ‘s soul, y/n couldn’t help but avert his gaze away from sukuna ‘s deformed face.

Causing sukuna to get irritated and grab y/n ‘s face with one of his many hands, “look at me, boy, I am your savior, I am your god, so you will treat me as so”.

Y/n could do nothing but whimper and force himself to once again look into sukuna ‘s eyes. “Good boy” ryomen purred, his already cocky smirk growing even more cockier by the second as he looked at y/n’s fearful face.

And just like a god, sukuna dropped y/n back on the forest floor because “mortals have no business being on par with their gods”.

The “god” placed a hand on y/n ‘s head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging him more close to his upper inner thigh. “As a servant, you must do everything I say, alright?” Y/n nodded eagerly.

“Hm, that’s what I like to see, now, as your first task for me, you will suck my cock. Got it?” Sukuna watched as y/n shakily nod and reach up to untie his pants lace.

Y/n then grabbed the hem of sukuna’s pants and slowly pulled them down, revealing not only one, but two extremely long and thick cocks. Drool dripped out the corners of y/n ‘s mouth as he stared intently at the two cocks.

Sukuna chuckled, “hasn’t anyone taught you staring is rude?” Y/n blushed and bowed his head, “m-my apologies.. master..” , sukuna chuckled and pulled on y/n ‘s hair. Causing the man to yelp and grab onto sukuna ‘s strong thighs.

Y/n looked up into ryomen ‘s demanding eyes, “well? Get to it slut” , y/n let out a quick ‘yes master!’ Before wrapping his lips around the tip of one of sukuna ‘s cocks while groping the base of the other.

Sukuna groaned as he then moved his hands that were in y/n ‘s hair down to the base of his neck. Y/n licked and slurped on sukuna ‘s big and girthy tip, coating it entirely in saliva.

“Fuck.. go down that shaft, I need to feel my head hit the back of that whorish mouth�� y/n did what was asked of him and began to slowly deepthroat sukuna ‘s cock. Gaining a loud and drawn out groan out of sukuna.

Soft and whispered curses leaked out of sukuna ‘s mouth as y/n began to bob his head on sukuna’s cock, making his way down the base.

While y/n worked on sukuna’s top cock, he began to stroke the bottom one at a slow pace, making sure to fondle the balls as well.

“Fuck.. I’m c-cumming.. don’t even try to pull back now, you’re going to take my entire load deep in that slutty throat of yours” and just like that, sukuna came in y/n ‘s mouth, coating his once pink insides a creamy white.

Sukuna ‘s second cock spurted it’s essence onto y/n ‘s bare chest, some dripping down to his abdomen and down his own cock.

Y/n ‘s pushed himself off sukuna ‘s cock with a gasp, coughing up some left over cum that got stuck in his throat. “We’re not done yet boy, get up”.

The cum-covered man got up, his legs trembling as if he were a newly born fawn. Sukuna ‘s bottom arms wrapped themselves around y/n ‘s waist, hoisting him up to where his head laid comfortably between sukuna ‘s pecs.

Sukuna’s hands then slowly slid down towards y/n ‘s ass, taking the two cheeks into his palms. Spreading them out enough to where y/n ‘s hole was visible. Sukuna then took one of his hands off of y/n ‘s ass to perfectly position one of his cocks directly below y/n ‘s hole.

The sound of the combination of a wet cock and a dry hole filled the quiet forest, along with a surprised moan from y/n. Sukuna smirked at y/n ‘s response, but he wanted a more extreme reaction.

A light went off above sukuna ‘s head as an idea popped into his malicious mind. Ryomen thrusted his hips up, making contact with y/n ‘s plush cheeks. Y/n through his head back as he let out a much more pleasurable and loud moan than before, along with that, a string of a certain warm and creamy white substance squirted out of the tip of y/n ‘s cock.

“Cant even handle a single thrust? This isn’t looking good for you boy” sukuna said with a snicker, y/n was about to argue with him but decided to kept his mouth shut. Ryomen slid y/n back up, earning a groan out of him. Sukuna then grabbed his other cock and positioned beside his other cock.

He slid the tip in, causing y/n to dig his face into the crevasse of sukuna ‘s pecs. And with another thrust, ryomen ‘s other cock had successfully entered y/n ‘s already filled hole.

Y/n clawed at sukuna ‘s arms, drawing a bit of blood. The pain that sukuna was suppose to be feeling was replaced with ecstasy and the desire for more. MORE pain, MORE pleasure.

“Ready?” Sukuna asked, but didn’t wait for y/n ‘s response. Sukuna slid y/n up one last time before delivering a powerful thrust into his hole. Y/n cried out, tears forming in his eyes from the thrust of sukuna ‘s hips.

Ryomen continued to deliver harsh and heavy thrusts into y/n ‘s already recked hole, y/n begged for sukuna to stop, but he was already too far gone in pleasure to be able to hear y/n ‘s pleads.

Y/n felt the many veins that drove along sukuna ‘s long and hard cocks, the veins were enough to drive y/n insane as they rubbed against the tight and gummy walls of his insides.

Sukuna ‘s cocks twitched, signaling that he was close to his release. Y/n sobbed as he realized that he would be downgraded to nothing but a cumslut and a cocksleeve for a curse that was way more stronger than him in every way.

“Take my kids into that precious hole of yours slut, maybe then you could actually gain a purpose for something” y/n knew what “purpose” he would gain, he would become a mother to children he could not bare.

With a couple more thrusts, y/n felt sukuna ‘s cocks unload their last gallon of cum into his once pure hole.

Sukuna breathed heavily, trying to catch an ounce of fresh air in the steamy and hot ecosystem him and his new slut had made.

“Consider yourself lucky I didn’t kill you, but now, you must work for me, you’ll worship me and my existence altogether, your nothing without me, your only purpose for me is to be a hole I can put my two cocks in and bare my kids in that stomach of yours” sukuna whispered delicately into y/n ‘s ear. Causing the poor man to shiver and shakily nod.

“Uraume, mind cleaning me and my new toy?”

#sukuna x male reader #sukuna x reader #bottom male reader #sub male reader #𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 — *+:｡.｡ #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #wait i’m goated #i’m cooking #male reader smut

[irndad]

a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.

“Have you called Maeve?” 

She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?

He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with. 

Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them. 

“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.

“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”

“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”

She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks. 

Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me. 

She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response. 

Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.

She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it. 

Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office. 

She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief. 

She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share. 

He does not want to call Maeve. 

The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.

“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”

Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.

He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess. 

He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.

“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”

“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”

“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“

“Then why-“

“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”

He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it. 

She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now. 

All the cards are in her hands.

Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this. 

“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”

It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him. 

“How could I not be? It’s you.”

It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up. 

A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount. 

“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“

He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to  cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable. 

When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life. 

“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”

He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back. 

It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits. 

She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back. 

On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything. 

He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though. 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[cherrieflavouredheadcanons]

Hi can we please have fluff w Aventurine where reader and him reunite after 2. 1 and just fucking elope start a new life etc? Please I need it.

God yes. This is what we all need after 2.1. I'm aware he is in a coma-like state technically now but for the sake of fluff and this headcanon he is awake from that coma and is now reuniting with you. CW: Spoilers for 2.1 and Aventurines actual name, starts angsty but then turns fluffy, Gn reader, pre established relationship hurt/comfort

I am still accepting requests (especially for aven) btw so if you wanna see something send it in!

Back in your arms

You had lost track of how long it was since Aventurine left for his mission in Penacony. Has it been 2 months? No, probably more. It had been months since you last had been able to make contact with him. Your messages no longer went through, unable to be sent.

Looking at your textlog and scrolling up, you came across the last message he had sent you. It had come in while you were asleep, and it simply read “I love you”.

Waking up to that message would have been a sweet message for most people, but for you it had made you immensely worried.

 Aventurine was never someone who professed his love openly, so such messages were quite rare. Receiving such a message, especially unprompted, made you send him a barricade of texts, none of which went through and even now months later none were able to be sent.

If you were honest you were starting to lose hope of ever seeing him again, who knows what happened in Penacony after all? He could be…dead for all you knew, you had no way to verify whether that was true or not after all. 

You tried continuing your life on as you would normally, what else could you do? It was hard though, everyday you missed him more and more. Sometimes you imagined his face in a crowd somewhere but whenever you would take a closer look he would vanish.

Sighing you closed your phone and looked around your apartment, it felt so liveless ever since Aventurine was gone. Tears were falling down your eyes as you wondered how much longer you had to live with the uncertainty of where he was and if he was even alive.

Exhaustion was taking over as you began falling asleep. A common occurrence nowadays, since at night you were restless, unable to fall asleep as you worried. Just as you were beginning to fully doze off, you heard the door to your apartment open, immediately waking up.

No one but you and Aventurine had the key, and with him being absent panic coursed through you thinking someone was breaking and entering. You grabbed the nearest heavy thing to defend yourself with.

“For fucks sake…” You muttered as you made your way to where the noises were coming from. Cursing every entity out there for piling even more shit onto you as if your significant other being possibly dead wasn’t enough.

Readying your weapon (probably a heavy book) you stepped foot into the room where the noise was coming from ready to attack and hit the intruder. But once you saw who it was that was in your appartment, you dropped your makeshift weapon, a sob escaping your mouth.

Before you stood Aventurine, alive and breathing. You rubbed your eyes, making sure that this wasn’t your mind playing a cruel trick on you again. Aventurine watched you with a smirk on his, albeit very exhausted looking, face and his eyes held a new found softness you had never seen before.

You fell into his arms immediately, holding him tightly against your body, feeling his warmth. Desperately you grabbed at his clothes as you held on to him, scared this was all just a dream and you would wake up all alone once again. Tears were falling from your eyes, unable to hold them back, the relief washing over you making you let out all of your emotions.

“Wow you missed me that much?” He asked, in his usual teasing tone. Though there was something in his voice that usually wasn’t there. Desperation and a bit of fear. Was he afraid you wouldn’t have missed him? Or was there a deeper reason for it?

Moving away from the hug you grabbed his face in your hands, the tears still falling from your eyes as you took a good look at him. His face had fallen in, and he seemed exhausted. But there was also something in his eyes, his beautiful eyes you were so sure you would never see again, that you couldn’t recognize, having never seen it on him before.

Before you spoke your first words to him, you pulled his face closer and gently kissed him. The feeling of his lips on yours felt like you were floating in heaven. They may have been more chapped than usual, but fuck was it nice to feel him again.  Breaking the kiss you finally were able to muster up your first words to him.

“Fuck…I was so worried about you…I…When my messages stopped being able to sent I was…so sure you…Please…never worry me like that again Aventurine…”

You leaned your forehead against his, your words jumbled together from the adrenaline coursing through you.

He took in a deep breath, and held it for a moment before letting it out. A gesture you saw in many people before they needed to say something important and heavy, but one you never saw in your lover.

“...Kakavasha…” His voice seemed unsure and meek as he spoke. 

You, of course, had no idea what he was saying, so you looked into his eyes confused.

“Wha-”

“Kakavasha…it is…my given name. The one my mother gave me” He inhaled deeply before he continued.

“It is a long story but the short version is…I am no longer affiliated with the IPC, they probably think I died or something. So I no longer go by Aventurine, and…with how close we are and how much you mean to me. I felt like it was appropriate for you to know my true name...”

His eyes refused to look at you, flickering about unsurely as he spoke. Though he tried to sound confident, his voice wavered, scared that you would not accept him for who he truly was and reject his true self.

You looked at him gently and with all the love you had for him, gently pulling him close again and kissing his nose.

“Well then…It is nice to meet you Kakavasha…” You smiled brightly at him, showing him you accepted him as he was.

He felt relief course through his body and could not help himself but pull you into a passionate kiss. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive. As if he would die without you.

Breaking the kiss he whispered “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question but a request. One that you were too stunned to answer to, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I mean it. Let’s get married, run away from everything and start a new life just you and me.”

His eyes were pleading with you to agree. He knew that he wanted to start over, but he knew he needed you with him.

“...yes!!” You once again fell into his arms and kissed him. The two of you holding each other so closely it was as if you were one.

Kakavasha knew that he would need to tell you everything that happened in Penacony at one point, even the part where he tried to end his life. But he knew that if he explained everything to you, you would still stay by his side and be with him. 

You were his family after all.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail spoilers #hsr spoilers #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #honkai aventurine #kakavasha #aventurine fluff #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x you #hsr x you #hsr 2.1

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU - If his parents are going to treat him like a punk, he might as well lean into it. 

Danny is getting seriously worn down by his parents constantly asking him to explain why he’s gone all the time and why his grades have slipped so far. I mean, sure, it took them months to notice, but now that they have, they’re alluding to the fact that he’s turned into some kind of punk and that he’s not taking life as seriously as he should be. This is what makes Danny kind of snap. 

He cuts his hair, gets Sam to pierce his ears in a few places (which sucked but was nice to catch up with her since Team Phantom didn’t get out much anymore), learns how to skateboard and gets Tuck to help him mask his identity on the internet as he begins online protesting the unethical treatment of ghosts. He makes picket signs that he leaves outside of Fentonworks and it takes days before his parents see them because they’re down in the lab. They go back up immediately after his parents take them down, and he begins tagging buildings with protest sayings and art all over amity park.

No matter how they ground him, the Drs Fenton are at a loss as to what to do to control Danny. Jazz says it’s not her place to interfere and is cheering her little brother on for being passionate about a new hobby. 

Danny’s honestly really vibing with the changes. He always understood why Sam wanted control over her own look, but he’s really leaning into the whole shebang. Ember and Johnny13 have never bonded over anything more than they have the punk transformation of their King. He’s really representing them fr fr- she taught him how to play the bass. 

With enough protests about the Anti-Ecto acts, the JL step in and begin their efforts to lobby change within the US government. Constantine is up to date on the new King being from Earth and thinks they might be able to weasel out a non-apocalyptic scenario if they reach out sooner than later. A letter gets sent through the infinite realms (No way in fuck was John going to try and summon a fucking King excuse you Bats)- Danny gets the letter and decides to let them sweat a bit, sending back his own letter that just says “K.” cause he’s learned that adults/authority figures all suck ass until proven otherwise. After a few days, a portal opens up in the middle of their meeting. 

Ghost King Phantom is rolling in on a skateboard, with the Ring of rage dangling from one of his ear piercings and ice crown floating above his head. He’s drinking an off brand smoothie, wearing a leather jacket that has medieval chainmail on it over his now distressed hazmat suit and his boots steel toed.

“...Sup. Y’all want to do something about this whole situation? I’m an all or nothing kind of guy.” Danny greets them. He means that he’s willing to be diligent in his efforts to disbar the Acts. It gets interpreted as him threatening to end the world, ofc, but that’s an issue he has to deal with later. 

“King Phantom we have been working daily to-” 

“Uh huh. Look, didn’t you guys have like a teenage group? I want to work with them, they’ll probably actually help me get shit done while you fuck around with paper work.” 

#the most punk thing you can do is protest #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #dc universe #young justice crossover #danny doesnt want to work with the authorities but is willing to work with YJ #Tim drake gets a new skateboarding buddy #danny's skateboard is kind of cheating tho cause he and it can float #kon is always down to take down a government sponsored org that does unethical research #cassie just wants to fight for him and fix his fashion choices #bart recognizes him from the speedforce and they bond over time being a fake ass bitch #i just wanted the funny visual of danny skateboarding into a meeting on the watchtower

[inkskinned]

there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.

it is harder.

it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.

it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?

it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister

on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving

it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.

i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.

it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.

#wish this was better written!!! but im sleepy!! #writeblr #pride #lgbt #but for real please help me make these lesbian wings. gonna get the supplies tomorrow . i have #no sewing machine but know how to hand sew #have never done a good job with tie dye so idk why im just runnin with it #ps im specifically going to boston pride next weekend come hang out with me