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#i find it hard to believe I will ever be genuinely content with how I look
classical-vanity · 10 months
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ellevandersneed · 3 months
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finished reading thru The Hundred Years' War On Palestine: A History of Settler Colonial Conquest and Resistance by Rashid Khalidi and I cannot recommend it enough. A lot of people and, very likely, the average person not completely blinded by Islamophobia and/or USamerican/European/British exceptionalism are probably at least moderately sympathetic to the Palestinian cause but I don't know how many of us actually understand the degrees by which Israel is based in settler colonial ideology, how it has continually attempted to subjugate and ultimately eradicate the Palestinian people, and the degree by which the US and Britain (but mostly the US ever since the Six Day War in 1967) have been complicit in this continual genocide.
This book is an amazing comprehensive guide on understanding the conflict and I genuinely think you should give it a read (or listen) if you want to learn more. It is one thing to feel sympathy and to declare support for a cause, but I think it is important to take a step further and educate yourself more on it. A ploy I have seen frequently by zionists is to tell people to "educate themselves" before commenting on this genocide, hoping to instill doubt and encourage silence. Well, here is your chance to educate yourself! I'm obviously biased in favor of this one as it is the first major text on the Palestinian genocide that I have read, but I fully believe in its quality.
You can find this book online in PDF format or, if you prefer, you can purchase a physical copy from many of the large retail bookstores; Barnes & Noble in the US sells it, and so does Waterstones in the UK. There is also an official audiobook that you can either purchase through many of the major audiobook distributors (though I recommend avoiding Amazon if it can be helped), but you can also obtain it via other means if necessary. It's actually currently up on YouTube in its entirety, though I won't link it here in case it gets taken down. (It's really easy to search for, just type in the books title + 'audiobook' into your preferred search engine or on YouTube itself and you'll find it. It's about 10 hours long which is a reasonable length for an audiobook). I'll include a link in this post to an overview/lecture/dialogue with the author Rashid Khalidi on the contents of the book conducted at Brown University in 2020.
I do ask you read this book. I think a lot of people already are. I checked a couple of online libraries that have a limited number of audiobook copies that had all been checked out and that to me implies that people do want to educate themselves. There's a sizeable stack of these books at the local bookstore I ocassionally shop at, front and center on the table in the history and world affairs section. It's not hard to find. I hope you all have a good day or evening and I know that if we all take the time to educate ourselves further and approach this genocide with a deeper understanding, we may be able to do something about it. Emotional pleas are not enough, they must be informed ones as well.
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idiaa-shroxd · 1 year
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THE PREFECT’S CAT CAFE ꒱ ❝ dormleaders. ❞
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SUMMARY: after an off-handed comment made by Idia, you find yourself taking what he said into genuine consideration. instead of just bringing some cats into your guest room though, why not find a way to have both cats and profits while being comfy?
warnings; gn!reader x dormleaders. long post. the keep reading line may repeat a bit of text, but please continue reading if it does. inspired by this video. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view. part i. part ii. part iii.
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PROLOGUE.
“Are you really sure about this, Henchman?” Grim asks, crossing his arms as he huffs, jealousy laced in his voice. He was used to your occasional strange idea, but he considered something to be sincerely wrong with you at the moment if you thought bringing other stray cats into his territory were a smart idea, not to mention the way you were cuddling them and scratching their bellies. Where did you even find this many cats? Did you make a deal with Azul?
Puffing your cheek slightly, you ignore your cat’s comment while putting the collar on the last one. “Do you want to have fancy tuna?” You reply, fixing the collar’s bow as you smile at your hard work. “You’re not believing in me, Grim. This is an untapped market potential, in case you forgot we have a whole dorm here at school dedicated to gamers and introverts practically. And you know what they like? Cats and silence!” You tell him as you look at your array of cats.
You’d found yourself surprised that Professor Trein actually entertained your question if he knew where to find cats on sage island, even more so when Crowley eventually relented to letting you keep a few cats in exchange for not bringing up the fact you’ve been through how many overblots against him for awhile. This was a chance you could not lose. “There’s cat cafe’s in my world with relatively simple rules and a quiet atmosphere. We simply need to make it a reality, and lucky for us we have a magical furniture tool and an investor.” You say, getting up from the chair and walking toward your little notebook to check off another item off the list.
“You have an investor?” He asked, not quite believing you as he raised a brow. Hearing his disbelief you chuckle a little, pointing your pen at a corner of the room to which he jumps in surprise, letting out a shock ‘nyagh!’ “Idia has been here for the past two hours, ever since I told him what I was going to do. I don’t know how or why he has money, but he has it and that’s enough for me.” You say, Grim still surprised he hadn’t notice Idia once in well over two hours. He still wasn’t convinced on your plan, but if it got him tuna and money, your plan surely can’t be that bad?
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HEARTSLABYUL. riddle rosehearts.
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.
“Are there any rules I need to follow while I’m here?” Riddle asks, a little antsy as it were his first time in a room with so many cats before. It were against the queen’s rules to bring cats to a formal affair, but this wasn’t too formal, it were a cafe. And you did get explicit permission from the headmage so indulging in you just a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, right? With a laugh, you point in the direction of one of the walls with the rules on display next to a signed plaque from the headmaster giving his approval to your whims.
“The rules are really simple. No forcing or disturbing the cats, do not go around picking them up, do not let them have your drinks, and refrain from running around and making too much noise. Outside drinks, food, and shoes are not permitted for sanitary reasons. You can only feed the cats treats sold by the prefect or in the gacha machines, and you have to log in which cat you’ve fed to ensure one cat doesn’t get particularly overweight.” You read off the board the rundown as he nodded, determined to follow the rules. As he stepped inside your now transformed guest room, his eyes sparkled as one of the cats immediately begun purring at him. Perhaps a cat cafe truly wasn’t too bad a place.
Riddle was really weary of your little project when you first told him about it. He really stopped lecturing you after you explained you had all the proper permission and even an investor. He had no idea who on campus would help you with this, but after hearing it were Idia he thought that maybe you were actually a bit more serious than he realized about your cat cafe plans. He takes awhile to convince to actually come, but after maybe seeing a picture you text him of the kitties with the caption, “I want Riddle to play with me!” he concedes ever so slightly into your demands.
His eyes light up in genuine happiness as little cats meow at his feet. His only other real experience with cats was Grim as his mother would not let him near them, but now he understands what the appeal to cats is about. They’re all so soft and he may use an occasional toy, but he also gets to hear their affection purrs as they nudge him nearly making him forget why he was so angry just ten minutes prior when he was collaring a student again. He isn’t a regular since he’s busy, but whenever you happen to ask he tries to make time, only because you’ve asked him to or his dorm members ask him to visit, not because he’s succumbed to being a cat person, he says, lying through his teeth.
His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) shorthair with pure dark grey fur and orange-yellow eyes. He wasn’t too sure how to act around the cats but this one plopped it’s chubby body onto his lap while nipping at his hand demanding to be pet while meowing right to his face and Riddle could not say no to that face. The cat is not as furry as the others and he quite prefers that, less hair to clean off of his clothes. He thought he would of preferred a less demanding cat, but Sesame is very calming and distracting for his anger. He at some point also noticed cat collar’s slightly changing and asked you about it.. and you found a gift from him, more specifically Sesame received a gift. His previous yellow collar replaced with a higher quality rose-red collar with white outlines of rose petals engravings. Now instead of a silent bell he had a rose attached to the front of the collar, and at the back of the collar was a bow designed to resemble leaf petals.
Absolutely plays favorites, he’s still a bit weary for long haired cats to approach him but won’t tell them to go away, and he always feels guilty if he pets a cat that is not Sesame. He would be willing to buy cat popsicles and cat treats on occasion but tries not to overly them as he knows you’re trying to not get them to be overweight and stay within a healthy range. He’s also able to get some work done when he visits, though not too often as his cat takes up most of his time and does not like him to share his attention with his paperwork, deliberately plopping down onto the paper if he deems he has not received enough attention. You could probably get away with asking him a single stupid question while he is relaxed. Only one, so use that question wisely.
Overall is a good guest since he keeps quiet to himself and his cat, and if he’s talking he’s really quiet about it since he respects your rules. He follows every single one to heart, not only that but also makes sure other guests are taking it to heart as well.
SAVANACLAW. leona kingscholar.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.
“Shut up, herbivore.” The beastmen hissed as you tried to hide your overly smug expression. “I haven’t even said anything yet, Kingscholar.” You tease as he opens one of his eyes and snarls at you in a nonthreatening manner, one hand running through his hair as the other runs his fingers through the fur of the sleeping cat on his chest, unable to stop you from taking pictures without disturbing said cat.
“Aren’t you two adorable?” You can’t help but snicker as you snap another photo of the annoyed beastman. You were definitely going to post this on your magicam story when you were free. Distracted by your phone, you fail to notice his ears twitching ever so slightly as he looks away from you, his face just a little bit darker in color than before as he shuts his eyes, going back to sleep.
Leona had no interest in being friendly with a bunch of strays you brought in from who knows where. He actually laughed in your face the first time you offered him some coupon to your cat cafe, he had no interest being near rowdy students. That was until he had the most annoying day alive, a conversation twice with Malleus in a single hour and he used you as his stress relief, nearly knocking you onto the floor as he plopped onto you after following you into your cat cafe.
No one else was there as you hadn’t opened, and he understood the appeal. The room wasn’t overcool with regulated temperatures perfect for a cat, with dim lighting and soft music. You even had different parts of your cafe for different guests as you place him onto one of the longer sofas, finally getting him off of you as you poor him a drink and listen to his complaint. At some point he had a group of cats just laying on him and purring against him and snuggling and he’s fallen asleep, not waking up until you inform him you’re closing for the night, and not to move too abruptly with the cat still sleeping on his chest.
His favorite cat had claimed him during their first fateful encounter, being a persian breed. The cat is very fluffy with creamy white fur and golden eyes, enjoying swaying her tail against Leona’s nose and kneading at his chest, arms, feet, wherever she gets her paws on. She does not enjoy being disturbed but does enjoy the occasional pet and spends most of her time just napping with Leona and pawing at him. He claims the cat is noisy every once in awhile but he can be seen petting her with one hand as the other shields his eyes as he lays down, letting her purr against him. He flat out told you he was replacing her stupid black collar with a new one, a brown silk collar that’s just a tad bit loose, with a few golden engravings and a beautiful bow on the back in a lighter brown and golden moons. Nebula also gets cat popsicles every once in awhile that he gets Ruggie to buy from you.
He is used to a bunch of different cats crawling over him as they seem to naturally approach him, and he’s very smug about that to Malleus, but he does have his favorite. Nebula is his number one cat and he will pick her up even though you have a no disturbing the cats rule and he will place her beside him as he has a drink as he lays down in his unofficial spot while she climbs atop him and goes to take a nap. He’s not jealous but he just does not allow other people to touch his cat is all. Whenever you come over to bring him a drink he’s trying to pull you down and shamelessly puts an arm around you as you ignore his clinginess and return back to your cats and cafe. May use a cat toy on occasion but not when you are watching because you get a stupid grin and ask him if he feels like pawing at the toy and he tries not to leave you on a street corner.
Overall a horrible guest but a decent guest. He definitely does not follow every rule and acts grumpy but he’s very quiet except the occasional snore. He will also take a very long time to leave because you need to scratch his ears because he’s not “fully awake”. But in terms of cat parenting he’s a pretty good guest.
OCTAVINELLE. azul ashengrotto.
AZUL ASHENGROTTO.
“So… do you still want to complain?” You ask, raising a brow as you stare at the bespectacled boy with a smug grin. He swore that there was zero charm to a cat cafe and that you stole his business from him just two weeks ago, but now he had a cup of coffee between his fingers sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, a purring cat on his lap with documents on the table spread out as he worked. Azul’s face flustered a slight tint of red as he let out a small cough much to your and the twin’s amusement.
“That was the past, prefect. We found a way to make this arrangement mutual benefitting now, no need to bring up old problems.” He tries to sound professional as you snicker. Two weeks ago was not really a distant past, but you did work thing out. “Whenever you want a refill just let me know, I’ll leave you guys alone for now, I’ve got more to do.” You say, deciding not to tease the octomer further as you retreat back into the kitchen, leaving him to be teased by his two ‘friends’.
Azul had stormed into your establishment one day with a single goal in mind, to figure out how you had stolen his business. He came perplexed, how were you allowed cats on campus? Where did you get the money for renovation? Who was your supplier? Most importantly why did everyone favor the prefect’s cat cafe over the Monstro Lounge with quality service and quality food?
He had sat you down trying to be scary but you ended up putting him. You had offered him a proposal of a collaboration. If anyone orders a special item off the Monstro Lounge menu that day before coming into your cafe they’d be eligible to receive a little something from your cafe for free such as a cat popsicle or an extra thirty minutes added onto their time. He was weary at first but people came to the Monstro Lounge as though they were giving away free money as they came in groups. You both benefitted from this as you did not want food near your kitties that weren’t for them as that posed health and safety issues. He doesn’t know how but he also finds himself on occasion coming to your cafe during breaks as it was surprisingly calming despite his absolute hatred for these innocent cats when he originally entered.
His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) longhair with dark orange-esque fur with a fluffy white front and light blue eyes. He has no clue as to how but somehow this cat became his favorite as he purred against Azul’s shoes, nudging at him before eventually crawling into his lap. The cat makes little disturbance as Azul works, the purring soothing the octomer as he finishes up, occasionally finding his sleeves being tugged at when Butterscotch declares he’s been working enough by demanding pats. Butterscotch has also found himself on the end of receiving a lot of cat popsicles recently, and a collar upgrade. His collar went from a plain leathery texture to some high quality collar blue collar with tentacle engravings, and a sea patterned bowtie at the front of the collar, the center being a pretty shell.
He entertains other cats but keeps an eye out for his favorite, always reserving his lap space just for him. He mainly spends his time at the cafe after a large rush or when he has time off to work in the silence with his cat instead of the silence of his office. He actually finds himself working a lot faster in your cafe than all alone and he gets free refills on his coffee, so technically he is profiting than if he used his own supply, he justifies to himself. When he finishes work he may on occasion be found talking to you attempting to flirt poorly as you remain oblivious as he has no interest in manga or gaming. May occasionally be found brushing his favorite kitty’s fur and telling him he is going to become fat like he once was then still feeding him the treat regardless because he is very polite.
Overall is a very good guest as long as he has his kitty. Gets a bit antsy if he has to spend his time without his favorite as though he had been replaced but does not cause a scene or whine. Please make sure before you close he gets to squish his cat’s paw and knows he has not been replaced with a different cat dad.
SCARABIA. kalim al-asim.
KALIM AL-ASIM.
“Aha, prefect! Could I have another cat treat, please?” Kalim pleaded with you as you shake your head, doing your best at giving the puppy eyed dorm leader a firm no. He already had two today, that was enough. “But look at Taffy, she’s starving!” He says as you raise a brow, staring at the cat that was getting plumper by the day.
“Kalim, I love you like my actual child but no more. She’s even eating the other cat’s leftovers now at lunch time.” You scold the boy as he apologizes and pleads he will stop after maybe just one more treat as you sigh, putting your foot down and eyeing Jamil pleadingly who only pretends he can’t see you as he plays with his cat. “I’ll even pay four times the amount!” He said, pouting as you shook your head, ready to dive into the same discussion you’ve had with him the past three days.
Two hours, that is how long it took for Kalim to hear about your business venture and ask, beg, you to let him see. Apparently Idia had told Ortho who told the board game club members and word got around to Cater and Cater told him and Lilia and now he was bouncing off the walls in excitement with Jamil in tow. He was already prepared to meet the kitties and Jamil said it was okay so could you please go now? When he hears that there’s rules to follow he listens intently and follows them as best as he can remember, but he’s just so excited about the cats and trying your drinks! Also looking at the interior and more. Wait you also have gaming pcs and manga? He has to check those out too! His hyperactiveness could not be contained and you were a little concerned for the cats.
You were right to assume Kalim could not be contained for more than two seconds as he pspspspss at all of the kitties, toy in both hands as he was already playing with them, cats crawling on his lap and nudging at him, biting at him playfully and surrounding him as he held a cat popsicle out towards them, talking your’s and Jamil’s ears off about how fluffy and wonderful of a place this is. He had to tell every single person in his dorm about it, and his family, and people from other dorms as well, this was the greatest place on campus so far! Do you also need help buying the cat food or anything? He’d be willing to be another investor in a heartbeat but Jamil talks him out of it, partially. His favorite thing is official a cat in his lap as he drinks your own tea brew that he gifted you from his country… which may cost more than your entire life.
His favorite cat is a maine coon with black fur and green eyes. This cat has the world’s finest at her fingertips if she just meows. Kalim knows it’s wrong to pick favorites but he can’t deny that she is his favorite when she headbutts his chin and meows at him for minutes at a time even if he’s petting her. She’s extremely fluffy and starting to become pudgier but he doesn’t mind that as he gets her more treats. Her pink collar has long since been discarded as she now has a full wardrobe, but her collar is now the finest white silk and handmade embroidery with real gemstones and solid gold for the silent bell. Even the bow on the back of the collar is large and beautiful, she’s worth more than the students that actually visit the cafe and you hope you aren’t robbed.
Kalim does play favorites but also doesn’t. Things are very clear he has a favorite cat but he will play with any and every cat that approaches him. He respects your do not disturb the cat rule, really, but he just really wants to pet every single kitty. He always says he wants to try one of the pcs but ends up forgetting as he works on his homework failing to pay attention while petting Taffy and giving her kisses and then eventually falling asleep because he’s all tired out. He has read a few of the mangas but he reads it to Taffy specifically and Jamil has to remind him to be quiet for your other guests. He may have also asked his family to visit your cafe so you may be visited by one of the world’s richest couple in the future when the campus opens for outside guests.
Overall a great guest for the cats but a nightmare for you as he looks like a sad puppy when you refuse to let him buy treats. Also occasionally forgets and makes a loud noise when he enters and sees his favorite cat, and he can be a little distracting because he can’t sit still for too long at times.
POMEFIORE. vil schoenheit.
VIL SCHOENHEIT.
“When in Twisted Wonderland did this happen..?” You mutter to yourself as you brewed another cup of tea for Vil using the brand he specifically gave you for himself when he visited. He was adamantly refusing to even set foot in your guest room after hearing what you had done, but now Rook was taking a photo of him elegantly sitting down in one of your lounge chairs with a cat on his lap, purring loudly looking at the camera as though she understood how to pose and was a natural born model.
You bring the tea over to his table as he thanks you, lifting the cup and saucer elegantly as Rook takes a photo, already singing praises on how great it would look on his magicam as Vil looks confidently smug. You couldn’t believe this all happened just because Rook had said something about Neige and how cute it would be for a boy like him to be surrounded by cats. “Thank you for your patronage.” You say with a small smile on your lips, amused. Well at least a happy Vil is free promotion for your business on campus.
Vil was happy for you, really, but he was not going to visit the cat cafe even if you pleaded by his feet and rose someone from beyond this mortal realm to drag him in. That was until he heard Rook talking to you and Epel about how Neige would surely be so beautiful surrounded with cats and you agreeing and throwing in a comment about how it would make him seem more likeable and relatable. He knew Rook was a Neige fanboy but he couldn’t have you converting into one too, are you forgetting he’s the fairest of them all, and the only celebrity you should praise like that? If it is relatability you truly desire he can spare one afternoon at your cat cafe since he needs to check up on the place his dorm members have been spending their time at recently to ensure it is up to Pomefiore standard.
He originally looked as though he was going to fight one of the cats with how he was trying to mentally tell the long haired cats to stay away from him. He was so intimidating to even the cats that none were willing to approach him but one, a very snooty girl that begun pawing at his ankles, jumping up into his lap and kneading him as she claimed her seat. He found her demeanor pleasantly charming as she wasn’t that furry and she was good enough, he thought. He managed to get some high quality photos that did trend on magicam for the rare domestic sight of the Vil Schoenheit and a cat. It was surprisingly soothing for him and he did eventually come back where the cat once again claimed him as her’s.
His favorite cat is a siamese with cream white fur and black siamese patterns and bright blue eyes. She’s rather thin and does not shed fur all over his lap like some of the other cats. He makes sure to keep her fur shiny as he brushes her down and uses some toys on her. He refrains from often buying treats as she doesn’t seem fond of them and he doesn’t want her to be too overfed, a model should keep a strict diet. Her collar was replaced without even informing you, the old white one did not fit his or apparently her standard so he simply had to replace it for her. It was a pretty fancy dark blue color with golden engravings in the pattern of pomefiore’s insignias, a purely custom design, with a pretty bow in front, with a silent bell. It’s hard to believe she was ever a stray at one point.
He does not entertain most of the other cats beyond looking at them as he pets Iris. He knows his cat is a complete snob and will likely not entertain other guests, perched up high in her cat tree bed until he comes along so he would never cheat on her with being another cat’s dad. He has full faith that he is the only one that she will ever go to so he does try to stop by every once in awhile to make sure she’s getting the attention and grooming that is needed for a cat of her standard. He’s not into your gaming pcs or your manga corners, but does appreciate you do have school textbooks to borrow and a quiet study nook so that he can elegantly pet Iris with a cup of fine tea while doing his assignments as Rook fawns over them.
Overall a very good guest as long as you leave him alone. Follows your rules, does not talk loudly or much, and goes above and beyond with taking care of your cat that you begin to think it’s actually his cat he’s just letting you keep. You’re a little concerned he may just tell you he’s taking your cat with him once you graduate, but he is a rather good cat dad, at least!
IGNIHYDE. idia shroud.
IDIA SHROUD.
“I-di-a” You coo, bending down and whispering in the ear of the man currently on the floor, two cats surrounding him as he feeds them cat treats. The blue haired boy physically jolts upwards letting out a small whimper of utter shock of being spoken to as you chuckle. “Are you having fun?” You ask as he blushes, looking away from you as he turns his attention back to the cat pawing at his pant leg. “Ehehe, this is even better than watching the series finale to an anime live.” He whispers as one of the orange kitties crawls into his arms, headbutting him.
“You flatter me, glad to know you think so highly of my hard work. Ahem, our hard work.” You say as you pick up the other kitty, fixing their collar as you lightly run your fingers through the cat’s fur. Giving the cat a kiss to his nose and boop, you set him back down as you notice Idia staring at you only to blush insanely red as he looked away quickly from being caught. “Thank you for your hard work… prefect.” He quickly whispers much to your amusement.
Idia has become the number one patron. From the second class ends to the time you close for the evening Idia is right there petting the kitties. He’d actually volunteered to work for free, not as a waiter or anything but as a sort of cat playmate. He’d make sure the cats are satisfied and not bored and no one can touch him or look at him, but you said no, he needs to share the cats.
He’s the reason your wifi is amazing despite your run down dorm, and he makes sure absolutely everything regarding technology is perfect. It took him a bit to understand what you want and why that was necessary beyond you just saying cat cafes in your world have these things, but he understands what bliss is now. Anytime some machine seems even remotely broken he fixes it at a record pace.
His favorite cat had claimed him awhile back. A pure white ragamuffin that is extremely fluffy. The cat is extremely docile and she’d claim her spot in his lap, purring as he’d read manga or play on one of the cafe pcs, occasionally nibbling his finger when he squirms too much from gamer rage. Her original collar was a nice shade of orange, but he not so subtly changed it into one he got. A pretty light baby blue shade with small jewel engravings, a little silent bell at the front with a pretty bow on the back with golden stripes. You are partially convinced he genuinely does believe Ivory is his firstborn child.
He does play with other cats but has a favorite. He always pays for one cat popsicle a day at minimum to feed the cats and pays for other cat treats whenever he can because he is weak. He also is rigged at crane games so he can easily snack through the day never leaving the cafe. There are occasions you tell him stop feeding human snacks to the cat, they will get chubby. He ends up looking super offended on behalf of the kitties you dare said any one of them are chubby. When he’s not pampering the cats you can find him gaming in one of the pcs, grinding through an event. At moments like these do not approach him and leave him alone so he can forget he is actually in public and not his bedroom.
Overall a very respectful guest. He’s quiet, makes sure to respect the boundaries of the cats and the rules you’d set up, and does not cause any scenes. The only issue is getting him to leave may be a little difficult as he tries to give one more kiss… Or that he tries to come on your days off just to keep the little babies company. there’s also the occasion every so often that you can feel his gaze on you, only for you to catch him as he hides his face, the tips of his hair turning pink as he watches you work.
DIASOMNIA. malleus draconia.
MALLEUS DRACONIA.
“Child of man, could I please have one of those.. cat ice creams I believe they’re called?” Tsunotarou asked, eyes sparkling ever so slightly in childlike wonder as you let out a charming laugh, handing him a popsicle that was specifically made for cats to eat. He had always been fond on ice cream but now he had the ability to share it with someone else he liked, the cat that had claimed him a few weeks ago.
“Just one though, we don’t want to feed them too much now.” You say but know it will fall on deaf ears as you didn’t wish to ruin his fun. You didn’t think he had experience with cats before so you were pleasantly surprised one of your cats had practically claimed him, but it all worked out. “Worry not child of man, I won’t give him too many treats. Though I’m sure if I too were eating your cooking right now I wouldn’t be able to stop myself either.” Flustered by his comment, you leave him to play with the cat as you retreat behind the counter, he really was dangerous for reasons different than rumors.
He heard about your business venture from Lilia and was ready to pay a visit not caring if he scared off your guests but halted in his tracks when he heard you telling Sebek you were going to invite him. His mind tells him he has won the lottery and he retreats to fix his outfit waiting in the lounge for an hour until you reach Diasomnia’s doorsteps to speak with him. He is not listening as you greet him with a hug and tell him you’d like for him to come to Ramshackle for a surprise. Something about you also not opening the cafe today so it’d just be you and him so he’d be comfy, there’s really no reason to try and continue speaking he’s been charmed for over an hour, prefect.
He practically vibrates from sheer joy as he’s frozen, then rapidly shaking, then beaming as a cat waltzes up to him as though he owns the prince. He basically blue screens momentarily as the cat with such soft fur and pure innocent eyes meows up at him, pawing at his feet to be picked up. He picks up the cat as you watch curiously, finally figuring out he wasn’t listening to you at all as he stares at the cat’s eyes and then your’s. “Our child is beautiful.” He says as you raise a brow, shrugging it off as you tell him you’d brew him a black coffee and to sit wherever he would like. He instead chooses to sit at the counter bar, watching you and the cat that’s on his lap nipping at his fingers and demanding his attention as well. For the first time in awhile he feels as though something doesn’t fear him other than you.
His favorite cat is a ragdoll cat with white fur and black splotches and deep blue eyes. He claims this cat is your child and you have no idea what he’s thinking of but he seems happy as he shamelessly pulls out a cat toy and plays with him. Also slightly insults the cat by calling him brave or stupid as though a cat can comprehend what he means while mewling at him. Also asks you if he can also have a custom collar after Lilia tells him about his cat, and after you allow him to replace the old red collar he’s excited. Black is the color of royalty in the briar valley and Oatmeal has the privilege of wearing it on his new collar. A pretty black collar with green wings beside a silent bell that may be made of actual gold, along with a little dragon hood-cape and short plush horns you got him so your boys match.
Very possessive of Oatmeal. He will applaud other cats if they dare approach him but everyone knows he has a bias. He practically has been claimed by his cat and no one else is brave enough to go near his cat and no cat is brave enough to approach him, they are a perfect match. He has tried to take your cat back to Diasomnia but you have to remind him that the cat stays with you, he needs a proper schedule, friends, and he needs to stop being fed so many treats. He’s also incredibly smug about it and will come to the cafe on your off days as he talks to you petting Oatmeal and glaring at Leona on the opposite couch who’s busy petting Nebula but refrains from getting physical or suffer your wrath. You’d kicked both men out for an entire weekend.
Overall a good guest personally, but his reputation may cause some people to be scared of visiting. Regardless, he’s very polite to you and treats his cat very good, making sure to give him treats and enough exercise with a toy. May also overpay for coffee and start fights with Leona when you aren’t even open yet. In fact, how on earth did the two of them even get into your cafe? You literally just woke up and they’re spitting insults at one another.
EPILOGUE.
“Fnaygh! I guess I really am a business genius, Henchman.” Grim said as he dug into a can of fancy tuna, one that you had bought without having to worry about your budget for once. You expected success from Ignihyde students, but it seemed like your little business venture went above and beyond with students from all different dorms trying to be booking ahead of time and trying to visit your cat cafe.
“Right right, you’re the genius, Grim.” You laugh in response to your friend as you finished checking on the other cats, finishing up for the evening. In terms of profit, almost every single day you were fully packed with as much people you’d allow in at once, and you had to temporarily increase the charging rates. Despite the increase people still begun to visit, who knew the school filled with villainous kids would be so excited to pet some cats? Especially your regulars, they adored these cats enough they got the cats gift, not you, but the cat.
It was tough work to manage the guest room cafe all by yourself though, you had to admit to yourself. Perhaps you should take up Ace’s offer and idea at hiring some part time employees, your first year friends had already offered, so maybe you’d start training them for help?
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a bit of a long post but i have had this thought for awhile ever since reading Idia’s guest room lines? So I figured I would just turn my headcanon into an actual written work. I have more ideas though for a separate post, but I am unsure if I’ll post it, but I do need to share my thought’s of Floyd’s favorite cat being a sphynx cat named prune that is very vocal and has a cozy ugly little sweater that Floyd likes to bathe with you.
©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.
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bloompompom · 21 days
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˗ˏˋ guilty pleasures ˎˊ˗
☆ content: eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, reader cheats on her loser boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, masturbation, pussy job, just filth, written very fast my apologies, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised 18+ ☆ word count: ~4.2k ☆ a/n: just a warm-up that got out of hand
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Your boyfriend sucks. That isn’t an opinion, either. It’s a fact. The sky is blue; what goes up will always come back down; your boyfriend is and will forever be a jackass. 
At least, according to your friends, Eren in particular. Sometimes according to you, too—let’s not leave that part out, it’s important.
Countless times, your boyfriend had driven you to wit’s end and back because yes, you always took him back. You aren’t the type to leave a kicked puppy out in the rain or a groveling man lying on your doorstep. He’d come crawling back, looking all lovesick and apologetic, and you’re ashamed to admit it hasn’t failed him yet. 
Listen, Eren is just your friend. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of your relationship any more than the next guy. What he knows for sure is that your boyfriend generally sucks as a human being, and he knows you know it, too. 
And it’s about time he does something about it. 
Tonight’s as good a night as ever to make a move. Eren’s roommate, Armin, insists on hosting a game night every other week-ish to ‘get the gang together,’ as he likes to say. But game nights are hard. No one likes to learn rules. So game nights soon devolved into movie nights, which turned into drinking nights after no one could agree on a movie.
That’s the plan for this evening: drinking the beer Jean brought along with a few leftover seltzers from the last time they got together, and spending some time with you. Alone.
You walked into the apartment huffing and puffing, pissed over whatever your boyfriend did or didn’t do. You’ve spent most of the night wallowing in the displeasure, trying to hide it, but it’s not working; Eren can tell you’re furiously texting Sasha every little detail despite sitting across from one another.
If you were to ask any of your friends, they’d say they previously believed you and Eren would date. You had that energy about you—still do, frankly. But then you met your boyfriend and you’ve been seeing each other ever since. On and off, of course.
Eren dated other people, too. And sure, he liked them, but that’s all. Finding happiness with something (or someone) is difficult when he constantly sees the greener grass on the other side.
He used to believe it was a timing thing, the reason you never hooked up. It made sense back then. But now, Eren knows it’s not a timing thing because he’s single and you can dump your boyfriend any time you want—if that’s what you want. 
Eren can pry. He can be forthright and ask what you’re texting Sasha about. But that’d get him nowhere; you’d undoubtedly reply, ‘Girl stuff,’ and let the subject die there. 
He noticed you don’t talk about your boyfriend problems when he’s around. Not that he expects you to. He would have written it off by now if he hadn’t heard you confiding in Armin about it. Jean and Connie, too. How frustrating it is that you never tell the one genuinely curious person. The one who wants to know and wants to show you how much better things could be, with him. 
So Eren does just that. He catches you at the right moment, once it’s just the two of you. Armin was in bed and Sasha already left, taking Jean and Connie with her. The only guests remaining are you and Mikasa—she’s been sitting heavy-eyed on the couch for the last twenty minutes and would probably be out cold in the next ten. 
Then there’s you, all squirmy beside him. 
“Are you cold?” Eren asks. He knows you’re not, but he also knows you’d never answer the more direct ‘Are you okay?’
“I’m fine,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m just—”
“Having a long night?” Eren guesses.
You merely sigh, but it’s weighty enough that it sounds like you’ve been holding it in for a while, like you must’ve needed it. 
“That’s one way of putting it.”
It’s vague, but you still feel you said too much.
You fiddle with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. You focus on that rather than the fact that you can no longer bring yourself to meet Eren’s eyes; it’s too much, it makes your insides burn uncomfortably hot.
You can’t deny how Eren makes you feel. Even more, you can’t deny that you came over tonight with him on your mind—the sort of thoughts you shouldn’t have while tangled up with another guy. 
“Is there anything I can do,” Eren slides closer to you, “to make your night better?”
Yes, you think. Yes, yes, yes.
You shake your head, gaze fixed on his leg pressing against yours. 
“It’s not your problem to fix,” you try to assure, but it lacks any sureness. Instead, it’s demure and… inviting? You almost made it sound like a dare. 
“That doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Eren says, always up for a challenge, especially if you’re the prize at the end. 
You’re better than this, you tell yourself. You’re above this. 
At the same time, you can’t help but think: what would your boyfriend do if the roles were reversed? You’ve argued about his fidelity before—hell, you argued about it hours ago—and you have no more clarity than you did from the start. 
Maybe you haven’t been perfect, either. Maybe there were times you should’ve told Eren to cut out the flirting and even times you shouldn’t have reciprocated it. You thought it was harmless then, that you’d never end up exactly where you are now. You also never imagined how invigorating, how right, it would feel. 
Eren places his large hand on your thigh, tentatively at first, light despite the guilt weighing down on you. When you don’t stop him, he becomes confident. He slides his hand higher, squeezes you gently. It’s chaste, something that could still pass as friendly if not for the way it made you weak.
I am absolutely not above this.
That’s how you ended up in his bedroom. Eren whispered for Mikasa and when she didn’t respond, he took it as the all-clear—that no one would know if you decided to head somewhere more private. Eren snuck you down the hall, shut the door behind you, and had you to himself, for the first time. 
Your heart thrums in your ears. It’s adrenaline, anticipation, a rush you never want to end. You hardly hear him when he asks, “How can I make your night better?” He nears you in a step. “What would you like me to do?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” you murmur. He wants to hear you say it: that you want him. You want his mouth on yours, maybe on your neck, his hands on your chest, smoothing down your hips and between your legs. You don’t give him the satisfaction of it. 
You lean into Eren without a word. He moves with you, meeting you halfway. You lead, he follows. You’re the one in the relationship, not him. 
You tilt your chin high to meet him. He catches it between his fingers, gently guiding you to him. Your noses brush; your lips don’t, but you’re so, so close. Close enough for your lashes to flutter softly against his cheek, for you to feel every one of his hot breaths as they break over your lips. It’s intoxicating. It’s not enough. But you can’t make yourself seal the fateful gap between you. 
“I can’t,” you regretfully stammer. It physically hurts to say the words. You wound the devil sitting atop your shoulder.
Eren doesn’t say anything, only pulls away from you. You don’t feel in control of your hand when it snatches a fistful of his shirt. You keep him there, still as close as before, eyes flitting between his pupils, big and blown, and his lips. He remains frozen, silent. He lets you decide where this would or wouldn’t go. 
“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know what do to,” you bemoan. Your head is a spinny, screwed-up mess. Screwed up from forbidden fantasies and raging hormones and the pool of warmth spreading in the depths of your stomach—all from him. 
“What do you want to do?” Eren asks in a low voice. 
It’s coaxing, cloying, but it’s needful at the same time. It’s a voice you’ve never heard from him, yet it’s familiar. It’s reminiscent of the same need burning inside you, so hot you think it might create a hole, one perhaps only he can fill.
You lick your bottom lip only to find your mouth has gone dry. 
Eren nudges the tip of his nose against yours. “I can tell you what I want to do, if that would help.”
He nuzzles lower, beneath your jawline. He doesn’t kiss you there—no, he wouldn’t do that. What he does is worse. It’s teasing. His breath fans over your ear and sends a shudder down your spine. He needs you not only to hear but to feel every word, every dirty thing he has imagined doing with you.
“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he breathes against the side of your face, warming you from the inside out. He clasps his hand over yours, then slips it between your legs. “And I want to watch.”
Eren touches your hand, encouraging you to rub. You feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes, like there’s a fire in your belly. You finally let its flames engulf you and god, burning never felt so damn good. 
You’re dizzy, you’re flustered—how could he possibly say that with such calmness? More than anything, you’re dumb to everything except the boy in front of you. 
“Can you do that for me?” he asks, smooth and soothing. “I’ll only look. I won’t touch, I promise.”
It’s a lousy excuse for a loophole. Actually, it doesn’t even qualify as a loophole.
Eren leans back, holding your shoulders in his hands. He looks you in the eyes and again, he insists, “No touching.”
Loophole or not, you can’t find it within you to care. You trust him, you think. Either that or your brain short-circuits because you can only repeat back, “No touching,” as you bob your pretty little head. 
Eren smiles down at you, runs his knuckles down the side of your face. It’s gentle, it’s praising, it brings—no, it yanks you back to him. 
“Lay on the bed,” he says. 
You do as you’re told, laying back on your forearms. He tugs your bottoms off with ease and reveals a pair of pale blue panties—a telling color. When you spread your legs for him, he can see how you’ve stained them with your arousal, soaked and ruined after some innocent teasing. 
You touch yourself without him having to ask. You trace over the damp patch and play with your clit through the fabric. He sees how easily your panties slip between your folds, how fucking wet you are, and has to stifle a curse.
Eren drops to his knees, nestled between your legs at the foot of the bed. He has a hand on either of your thighs, almost white-knuckling the plush skin.
“Look at that.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “You like it when I talk to you, huh? When I tell you what to do?”
You whine at the words, rub your clit faster. You want to come. 
“So needy. What’s the rush?” Eren tuts. He climbs onto the bed, propping his back against the headboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As he says it, his hand travels lower. Dangerously low. It draws your attention to how hard he is, his insistent cock tenting in his sweatpants. He palms over it once, then twice, then grips himself through the fabric. Fuck. 
You stare with too much interest. The corner of Eren’s lip curls into a smirk when you have to close your hungry mouth. He’s just as greedy, though, just as riled up as you. Even the touch of his own hand has his arm muscles tightening and twitching.
You crawl over to his side and try to relax into the pillows as best as you can. Your shoulders droop, your knees fall to either side, but there’s a tremble to your hand as it returns between your legs. Your touch remains feather-light, almost a tickle, as you dance a finger along the hem of your underwear. You watch lecherously, with your head lolled to one side as Eren mirrors you—you’re still leading. His thumb dips below his waistband.
This still counts as ‘no touching,’ right?
Eren shoves his hand down his sweatpants. You can’t see it when he takes his cock in his hand, only the outline of him slowly working over his length underneath the fabric. 
Your eyes ask the question your lips wouldn’t dare to ask. Eren responds, “You first.” His eyes flicker to your crotch—your panties, more specifically. 
Your fingers stutter and pause. You’ve already dipped your toes into the corrupt waters, so you might as well take the full plunge.  
You tuck your underwear to the side, pinching them in the crease of your thigh. Your fingers are almost cold against your wet, hot skin and you shiver in response, letting the feeling wreck down your spine. You clench around nothing, whimpering just as helplessly. 
“Fuck,” Eren breathes, an incidental hiss.  
He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and his cock slaps his front. He aches for anything more than his hand, but it’s all he has right now. It’s agonizing how what he needs is so damn close, but out of reach. 
He pumps himself faster, tightening his grip around the sensitive tip to mimic your cunt.
He can only catch glimpses of it. Your panties persistently get in his way, and when they aren’t, you’re having to tug them back to the side. Your gasps and moans turn to little grunts, your frustration staving off your orgasm even further.
Eren goes to grab your underwear but stops himself short.
“Take them off,” he tells you, somewhere between a request and a demand. If this is his one chance to be with you, to see you, then he’s going to see all of you. 
You listen. Your hand slips from between your legs and a sticky string connecting your fingers to your cunt snaps. You hope Eren didn’t see it, but you’re sure he did based on the impatient sound that comes from the back of his throat. You lift your hips from the bed and shimmy your underwear down your legs. Then you kick them to the floor. 
You don’t settle back into the bed before Eren says, “I want to see more of you,” because this still isn’t enough. “C’mere.”
He adjusts you to his liking until you’re in front of him, lying back on your elbows, spread, with your feet caging his hips. It’s a vulnerable position, you admit. One where you’re completely bare and completely on display and there’s no shying away. You may have even found it embarrassing if not for how turned on you are. The urge to come is nagging, simmering for so long that you fear you may boil over and do something you’ll regret later. 
“Shit.” Eren’s in awe of the sight before him: your glistening cunt, swollen and practically begging to come, and the dreamy expression on your face. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever looked, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Your eyes are as alert as they are moony, as confident as they are flustered; a doe locked in his headlights, willing to eat out of his palm despite her better judgment. 
“Spread yourself for me,” he murmurs. You do it with two fingers. “God, look at you.”
So pretty. What a shame it was that such a pretty pussy would go unfucked tonight. 
Eren leans back again, this time with a complacent hand tucked behind his head. He spits into his other, then slathers it over his length, unblushing to how your eyes follow every fluid movement.
“Go ahead,” he says, still calmly fisting his cock. “For real this time. Make yourself come for me.”
The encouragement travels straight to your core. You sink your middle finger inside first, then you add another. Your walls pulse, sucking the digits in further. You curve them, drag them in and out, in and out, until you find a pace that has your thighs threatening to snap shut. You pull out of yourself one last time and, with properly wetted fingers, you return to your neglected clit. It only takes a few slick circles before your breath quickens. 
“Yeah, just like that—fuck.” Eren feels his cock throb against his palm. He slows, pulling and tightening his grip, still pretending his hand is anywhere near as soft as your pussy. “You’ve listened so well. You deserve to come, don’t you think?”
You moan something incoherent.
“Tell me,” he says, smug and urgent, somehow at once. “Tell me what a good girl you’ve been. That you deserve to come.”
Slippery, unforgiving sounds fill the room, from the both of you, but you’ve already shed any shred of decency you had left. You dipped your toes first, and then you took a fateful dive. But now, the current has stripped away any semblance of control you had—or thought you had.
You’ve become a passenger inside your own body. Every motion feels wild and unpredictable, yet intimately inevitable. It’s a kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations. It’s strange and exhilarating. It’s this raw and primal surrender to only what’s physical and nothing more. 
Flowery language aside, you know one thing for sure: as much as you enjoy hearing him talk filth to you; he enjoys hearing you just as much. 
“I’m a—ah, I’m your good girl,” you moan shakily. Your skin becomes unbelievably hot, your fingers stuttering, struggling to keep up with your neediness. “I d-deserve to come.”
His good girl.
Eren’s stomach lurches, abdominals tightening. He nearly comes.
What a fucking gift you are. How lucky Eren feels to witness how you get yourself off when no one’s around, how you like to tease yourself—maybe even pretend he’s the one teasing you.
You bring a hand to your chest, gingerly caressing the tips of your fingers along your nipple that pokes through your shirt. You slide the hand over your breast before groping it fully. 
“Can I see your tits?” Eren blurts. Once again, there’s no use for dancing around the truth of the matter anymore: you both wanted to get off. 
“You first.” You giggle a little, all breathy, then restate, “Take off your shirt.”
Eren smiles at you before stripping, revealing a cute flush creeping up his chest. You stick to your promise, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside. You skipped putting on a bra this evening because it was supposed to be a quiet night-in with friends, but it worked out pretty well for this, too. 
You graze your fingers over the peaks of your breasts, bouncing just so with every rub, rub, rub of your opposite hand. You bite back a harsh gasp, but little hums escape past your teeth, anyway. 
Eren’s thighs twitch. He fights the urge to buck his hips, to fuck up into nothing. His pants turn strained, exasperated. He thinks he might be numb to his hand at this point. He could use his spit again, but why should he have to when you’re right there, as desperate as he is?
Your name’s a raspy plea on his tongue. His hands smooth up your legs as he coos, “I need to feel you, baby.” His thumbs stroke your inner thighs, growing extremely close to the apex between them. “Need you to help me come. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
Eren’s hands wrap around your ankles, pulling a yelp from you as he drags you toward him.
“I won’t put it in,” he promises. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your cunt against the underside of his cock. His hand somehow looks small in comparison as he holds himself at his base. He angles his cock until it’s about as close as it can be without touching you. “Please.”
Your heart pounds against your ribcage, but even more frantically, it pulses between your legs, loud and demanding. It’s as impossible to ignore as the man before you. Hot and horny, with messy hair and pretty pink cheeks and an even prettier cock that leaks at the mere thought of touching you, staring at you like he wishes to devour you whole.
You nod, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to push his cock between your slit. You watch him do it, sitting higher on your elbows. Even with the faintest amount of pressure, your jaw goes slack. 
He rocks his hips, gliding his cock through you, up and down, with the ridge of his head nudging your clit. Your skin prickles despite the thin layer of sweat you’ve accumulated.
You raise your hips, dragging your pussy over him, and bring yourself back down to the bed. His cock jolts. You feel it. You repeat the undulating motion again and again, effortlessly, because you can’t recall a time you’ve been wetter. So wet he slips out a time or two. He takes advantage of it once, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit.
Eren gives a low chuckle when your head falls back between your shoulder blades. “What a pretty little mess you are.”
You tilt your hips so he’s back in place, hitting your clit just right, over and over. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake, swaying like they may give out. He steadies you, resting his hand on the divot of your hip. 
“Oh, god—Eren.” Your voice pitches on a broken moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”
His hand curves around your side, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. He uses the grip to keep you moving, to guide you through it. He barrels you down the hill toward your release, and you can’t stifle a single cry as they spill from you.
“Yeah, that’s it. Let it all out, baby,” Eren encourages, saccharine as always but airless. Though his own release is imminent, he refuses to allow it to happen before yours. 
He flattens his fingers against his cock, pressing and adding delicious pressure. He proves how heavy, how hard, he is for you—how much better he’d feel inside you. The mere thought of it makes you groan. You push back on him instinctively, arching your back as you teeter on the edge of your undoing.
“So fucking hot,” Eren grunts, thrusting as if he were truly fucking you. He meets you each time you bear down on him, his pelvis slapping against you as his hips rise from the bed. “So fucking hot.”
That familiar feeling fizzes in your stomach, swarmy and radiating through you. It sparks in the tips of your fingers, even in your toes, and then your orgasm rips through you. Your entire being tenses, fists knotting themselves into the sheets and eyes screwing shut. The pleasure is white-hot and leaves you with stars behind your eyelids.
Eren urges you to open your eyes. “Keep ‘em on me while you come.” 
You try your best; you don’t let your eyes roll back. What’s hidden behind your fluttering lashes is pornographic. Your soaked thighs—his soaked thighs. You don’t even want to think about the blankets below you. 
You curse and cry his name. You look ruined, with eyebrows pinched and pulled together, your mouth hanging open like you want to scream out your orgasm. Eren crudely imagines how wrecked you’d look, how much better you’d feel, if you were coming with him inside you.
Your knees snap together, thighs sealing shut around his cock. He continues to fuck between them, against your pulsing, oversensitive pussy. Your body is spent and shaking, and he is right there with you. The sinewy muscles of his chest flex as he builds toward his climax.
“God, fuck,” Eren pants. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come all over this pussy.”
When he does, it’s with his head thrown back and a beautiful groan. His body is flush with yours, his cock spilling across your legs. Come drips down the creases of your thighs, smearing with the last few pumps as he draws out every drop. He can’t believe he could feel so good from something as pathetic as grinding.
Your body lies limp, sprawling across the bed with your legs still draped over him. You wait for some post-horny clarity to smack you across the face, but the only slap you feel is the truth: you deserve better. You aren’t going back.
You stay there, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, then blink, Eren’s above you, taking your cheek in his hand. His fingers curl around the side of your face before he places his mouth on yours. He’s soft, both how he feels and how he kisses you, with lips slotted perfectly against yours, coaxing them open with his tongue.
You finally let him touch you this way; you kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you wish for the moment to stay, just for a little longer.
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dalliancekay · 1 month
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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE
Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.
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Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.
Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.
WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.
But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.
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And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?
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How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?
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How did Aziraphale spent the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen.
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ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?
Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?
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He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.
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Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?
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Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. He was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, I' sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.
Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment
It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).
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hyperfixatedbastard · 2 months
Text
one must grab the titty
Soft!Adam x AFAB!Reader
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It's no surprise that Adam's big on physical touch, but you expected it to be - well, sexual. Turns out that this clingy, hypersexual douchebag actually likes innocent, nonsexual intimacy. Like holding your boobs just 'cause they're nice to hold.
Word Count: 926
WARNINGS: SFW (I think?), AFAB!Reader with gender neutral pronouns, mentions of sex, no sexual content, nonsexual intimacy
A/N: I kinda hate this but I'm tired of working on it, so here ya go! Apologies if you have no tits, but let's be honest, that wouldn't stop this bastard.
Dividers
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Adam has some… odd habits, at least by Heavenly standards. Sometimes you wonder just how exactly he’s an angel, but you’ve learned to not question it. He may be a douchebag and an asshole, but he has his moments. He’s sweet with you, at least. You never expected him to be a doting, clingy boyfriend, but he certainly proved you wrong.
No matter where you are or what you’re doing, he’ll have an arm around your waist, or one of his wings loosely wrapped around you. Adam is a possessive guy (after hearing about the whole Lucifer debacle, you can’t really blame him), and he makes it clear with the way he interacts with you in public. And in private, he’s arguably worse—you’re lucky to sit down without him draping an arm over your shoulders to pull you in close, or practically pulling you into his lap. He’d never admit it, but you think he needs the reassurance that you’re still there, that you haven’t left him.
You’re not so sure about that theory once the touches go past cuddling.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
"Adam," you begin in a suspicious tone. "What are you doing?"
The angel in question blinks back at you owlishly. His mask and robes have been traded out for some sweatpants and a t-shirt that reads ‘I Got ADHD’ with the subtitle ‘A Damn Hard Dick.’ The two of you are cuddling on the couch in your shared apartment, with some shitty action movie playing on the TV as you sit wrapped up in his arms and wings with your back to his chest (you didn’t think that action movies would be allowed in Heaven considering the murder and whatnot, but once again, you don’t question it).
"Hm?" he hums innocently. "I'm watching the fuckin' movie, babe."
You glance down to where his hand is shamelessly groping your boob over your shirt. You debate whether or not to even confront him about it, considering he isn't actually doing anything other than just holding your tit, but you ask anyways.
"Why is your hand on my boob, then?" you prompt, your eyes shifting between his face and where his hand is idly groping your chest.
Adam chuckles and breaks out into a smug grin. "What? Can't a guy hold his partner's tits?" He gently squeezes your boob for emphasis.
Your face heats up at that, and your eyes narrow in confusion. "Why do you want to?" 
"Uh, because they're fucking great," he answers incredulously, like you're the weird one here. He then brings his free hand up to hold your other boob. He gives them both a gentle squeeze, but doesn't do anything more than that. The lack of a sexual innuendo, joke, or proposition doesn’t make sense to you—it feels out of character for Adam, even after learning about his love of cuddling.
You just look at him, confused. Sure, you've always known that he's a boob guy, but this doesn't strike you as Adam's usual horny antics. But if it’s not sexual (which you still find hard to believe), what the fuck is it? 
He seems to realize that his original explanation isn’t good enough. "Look, hot stuff, boobs are just nice to fuckin' hold, y'know? All soft n' squishy n' shit."
You raise a brow at that. It’s a fair point, you suppose. "So, what, my tits are like stress balls for you?"
Adam laughs—not that loud, boisterous laugh he does when pranking some poor soul, but that more genuine, softer one few people ever got to hear. "Yeah, pretty fuckin' much, babe. They're comforting!"
You roll your eyes at him, albeit fondly, as a smile pulled at your lips. "Whatever works for you, I guess."
His smirk grows, and he squeezes your boobs a little firmer this time. "Oh, these beauties are fucking workin' for me, sweet cheeks."
You scoff, albeit lightheartedly, and swat at his shoulder. "Shut up and watch your damn movie."
Adam doesn’t respond, but he pulls you a little closer and gives your tits one last good squeeze before returning his attention to the TV—for the most part, at least. His hands don’t leave your chest, but they don’t really do much either. They’re just resting there, occasionally groping or giving a light squeeze. Damn, this really isn’t a sex thing for him, is it?
You’d already been shocked when you’d first realized how clingy Adam is. You were even more surprised to discover that he’s a fan of nonsexual intimacy in general, like cuddling and hugging without it leading to something more. And here he is, surprising you once again by doing something that should surely be sexual in his mind, yet treating it casually and barely even making sex jokes about it. 
A few more minutes into the movie, you can’t hide your curiosity anymore. “This really isn’t a sexual thing for you?”
Adam’s eyebrows raise, and he looks puzzled at your question before breaking out into a smirk. “Why, do you want it to be?”
You scoff and shake your head. “No, I’m just… surprised, is all.”
“Hey! I can appreciate some nice boobs without it being sexual,” he protests, and he sounds at least partially serious.
“Okay, okay, I believe you,” you assure him with a soft laugh. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
“Good, ‘cause I fuckin' like this,” Adam remarks, once again squeezing your boobs for emphasis. You just fondly roll your eyes at him and go back to watching the movie.
Having a clingy boyfriend is pretty nice, actually.
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Taglist: @3sire-777
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jnnul · 4 months
Text
dating karina (aespa)
word count: 870 words a/n: uhh i've been in a karina state of mind lately i could've made this at least 8k words but i didn't... genres: fluff and nsfw content
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gif creds: @sunghanbin
the one that you need to know about jimin is that she is a selfish lover
and i mean that in every sense of the word
she is SO incredibly possessive
will absolutely get upset if she feels like she's sharing your love with literally anyone or anything
in fact, she probably asked you out because she got jealous af
aka she was trying to court you and you kept friend-zoning her
"omg you got me flowers and perfume? you're such an amazing friend, jimin!"
smh.
one day, she catches you with a box of chocolates that she definitely did not get you
and she loses it
"y/n, who got you this? they probably poisoned it. idk. you should throw it out. i think it went bad. oh wait it's ugly. throw it away."
will buy you a box of chocolate double the size
and seeing her jealous is what finally makes things click in your head
but you like seeing her so possessive over you so you pretend that you don't know what she's saying
until she finally summons all of her courage and asks you out formally
and oh, if you thought that her crushing on you was intense, it TRIPLES when you start dating
openly flirts with you everywhere. in front of everyone.
will call you beautiful/handsome/gorgeous and will glare at anyone who doesn't agree with her (platonically, ofc)
will scream from the rooftops that she's head over heels for you
but beyond all of that, she loves so hard
jimin genuinely believes that you were the one to hang the stars in the sky
she really asks for nothing in your relationship except for never giving her a reason to think that you don't like her
highkey, she's a loser
i mean that
like you could just sit in her lap when she games and she would think that you're the sexiest person she's ever laid eyes on
it could be overbearing just HOW into you she is if she wasn't so loser??
like yea, she's super possessive and will stink eye anyone looking at you weird when you're dressed up all sexy
but then she'll look at you with those big boba eyes because she forgets the entire world when you look at her
highkey thinks that you're out of her league??
like in her head, she games 29/8, wears glasses, wears the same wrinkled shirt for days on end, is super shy when you first meet her, etc.
not to mention the fact that she's aware that she's so incredibly in love with you
so it can hurt her in the beginning when you don't know how to show her just how much you love her
like you're just AWKWARD but she doesn't get that
but literally just tell her and she will fall like a lovesick puppy all over again
is such a gentlewoman omg
doesn't let you pay for anything, spoils you rotten, and loves nothing more than to tell you how much she loves you
will not break up with you. like once you're with her, you're with her for lyfe.
[nsfw content below.]
OMG AND IT TRANSFERS TO THE BEDROOM TOO
BC I SWEAR THAT SHE'S SUCH A SOFT DOM
she likes dressing you up in the prettiest sets, watching you model them for her bc she likes seeing how shy you get
is it controversial if i said she would make you wear a collar?
doesn't matter how big or small you are, you will always find yourself on her lap
she likes making you ride her thigh??
like she likes watching you try to get yourself her without even lifting a finger
again with the whole i want you to love me as much as i love you thing
especially if you're wearing her clothes??
will get clothes 9x too big just bc she likes seeing you swaddled in her clothes, using her to get yourself off
but you can't. ofc you can't.
she honestly would make you feel so good that you physically wouldn't be able to get off w/o her helping you
will mark you everywhere
i'm not joking
you'll wake up looking like you got mauled by bear from the hickeys on your neck
she likes spanking you for the same reason
her handprint on your ass is pretty much permanent atp
is dominant the whole time (and it's very very rare that she gives up control) and loves making you melt in her arms
her goal is always to make you feel so good that you can't speak, just clawing at her for more
more what? who knows. but she'll give it to you, that's for sure.
is very kinky and probably enjoys fantasies of a lot of darker kinks but is very scared of pushing you past your limits
just the sheer volume of dark dark fantasies that she finds herself getting off to the idea of subjecting you to scares her
aftercare is superb
never fails to clean you up, wait for you to come back to her, and always snuggles the absolute best fr fr
she's a sweetie who fucks real good (a keeper fr)
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months
Text
Title: Distorted.
Pairing: Yandere!Dottore x Reader (Genshin).
A Grab Bag Commission For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.
Summary: With the help of the Akasha system, Dottore strives to keep you happy and docile and, most importantly, unaware by his side.
Word Count: 1.0k.
TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Unreality, Slight Gore/Blood, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Obsessive Behavior.
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“Do you think Ajax is free?”
Dottore hummed thoughtfully, pressing his scalpel downward and severing a measured length of small intestine from the greater mass. With time to spare and the patient he was extracting his materials from long-dead, he took a minute aside to note the patches of scar tissue lining their internal tissue on a blood-spotted journal, to test for unusual viscosity or durability that’d have to be accounted for in his research. It was a minor study, something that would’ve been handed off to a younger branch of himself not yet ready to play a hand in more dire schemes, but due to the intervention of a certain archon, he was forced to carry out more of his own grunt work than he had in decades. Not that he minded getting his hands dirty, of course.
Especially when the same archon’s nation had given him such a lovely lab assistant to keep him company while he worked.
“Planning to replace me, little mouse?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten. It’s your own dinner party, for the Tsaritsa’s sake.” He heard you sigh in mock exasperation, then again – your frustration more genuine. You were sitting at his desk, working away at whatever little task you’d assigned yourself, the ring of blue light encircling your head pulsing brightly. It was his own handiwork – a version of the Akasha system he’d been able to maintain even after returning to Snezhnaya. He had no idea where you thought you were, what you thought he was doing, what you saw through those clouded eyes, but he knew you couldn’t be here, in his dark, cluttered lab - couldn’t see your beloved husband, the man who you’d crossed half of Teyvat to stay with, elbow-deep in a vat of disembodied organs and viscera. That was what interested him most about your experiment, really. It was one thing to wonder how you’d react if you ever found out the man you loved had such grisly pastimes. It was another, to watch what lengths your mind would go to just to substitute your reality with a more palatable fantasy. When it suited him, he could play a more involved hand in your fabrication, make himself into a hero or a villain or something else altogether, but most days, he was content to let you create your own daydreams. You were the most obedient when you could make him into exactly what you needed, that day.
“To celebrate your return to Snezhnaya,” You went on, as he piled the segmented pieces of a malformed liver onto his scale. “Pierro says that you haven’t been holding up your social obligations. I know it’s not customary, but I thought it’d be nice to invite another Harbinger – so you don’t have to suffer a room full of noblemen and merchants alone.”
So you were aware of his status as a Harbinger, today. More often than not, you treated him like a neighborhood doctor, or a traveling scholar as far from home as you’d found yourself. Sometimes, he was a low-ranking diplomat, or a medic you could welcome home from the battlefield, but you rarely acknowledged him as something so dangerous, something so far above yourself. It must’ve been the occasion. It would’ve been hard to deny who he was when you were sending out the invitations to a Harbinger’s event.
On that note, he abandoned his work, positioning himself on the opposing side of your desk. He was already smiling – it was difficult not to, when you were in his position – but his grin broadened further as he looked over your half-finished guest list, your attempts at calligraphy scribbled across what little scrap paper you could find. “I believe Tartaglia was sent back to his post in Liyue last week.”
You pursed your lips. “Pantalone comes with good company.”
“And he charges market-price for every precious second of his time. You wouldn’t want to bleed me dry, now, would you?” You tilted your head to the side, pretending to consider it, and he let out a breathy laugh, rounding the table and settling behind you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “There must be an alternative.”
“Well,” You tilted your head back, your smile now matching his own. “It has been a while since I’ve heard Columbina sing–”
“Anyone but Columbina.”
“I write Pantalone a letter tonight, then.” You allowed yourself a moment to bask in your own self-satisfaction, leaning back in your seat and allowing your gaze to drift – first to your lap, then to your shoulders, where the blood and viscera coating your hands was beginning to soak into the fine ivory silk of your sleeves. There was a flash of repulsion, a sound not unlike a half-choked scream, and then you were shoving him away, your expression only growing more pained when he refused to move. He felt something tighten in his chest – not quite fear, but pure, zealous excitement. Had you, somehow, managed to break yourself out of your trance? Was there a flaw in the Akasha system he hadn’t accounted for? How much would you force yourself to forget, overwrite, warp and distort into something loving in the coming hours if you saw him for what he was, now?
“Zandik.” The sound of his name on your lips was to die for. He leaned down, pressing nipping at the corner of your jaw, and you groaned, brushing him away. “I’ve told you not to touch me while you’re painting. Look at me – it’s going to take ages to get this out of my clothes.”
Oh. Painting. How adorably quaint.
How adorably wrong.
With a sigh, he leaned down, pressing a fleeting kiss into the corner of your neck. You crossed your arms, sulking, but allowed him to. It wasn’t as if you’d be able to refuse. “Forgive me, darling.”
He straightened his back, watching red seep into white and begin to stain.
“I’m sure you’ll forget all about this in no time at all.”
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jeongheart · 8 months
Text
super shy
summary: he's been receiving these letters for the past year but, he doesn't know your name, does he?
w.c: 7.1k.
tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life.
a.n: this is the longest fic i ever written omg, i've been playing new jeans latest comeback for a few days and this is the result lol. as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. leave your thoughts if you liked it, means a lot!
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It was there again.
Sitting immaculately on top of his messy folders, the envelope was white without any type of decoration, the owner of the cursive handwriting wouldn't even risk placing a sticker since it could give a clue, even minimal, about who was behind it.
The classroom was almost empty, since recess ended a few minutes ago and the students were still lazily getting up from the grass where they were lying, not wanting to lock themselves in a room again for hours while the day was shining beautifully outside the building.
However, Chan looked around him, narrowing his eyes as he scanned his classmates for the smallest trace of uneasiness as he took the envelope in his hands. But he didn't find any, unless the author had a master's degree in poker face no one around him seemed interested in what he was doing.
After the failed scrutiny, he sat down again with no care on the wooden bench, eager to read what that person had to say today. This excited feeling was new for him, the letters had been arriving about a year ago, right at the beginning of the new semester and at first, Chan found it funny. Surely one of his friends (he bet his life on either Seungmin or Minho, those two were always up to something no matter how much they said they weren't) found it fun to piss him off this year, after all, it has been a long time since his last relationship and sometimes he felt the need of affection, so the "joke" made perfect sense in his head.
He didn't read them the first few months, he just crumpled them up and kept them in a hidden place in his backpack, to let whoever was behind them know that he wasn't interested. But they kept coming even after that vile act against someone's real feelings; and that was when Chan began to question if there really was a person genuinely interested in him, interested enough to send him handwritten letters as if they were living in a classic romance novel. The person had a beautiful vocabulary, and it was clear that they paid attention to details that he didn't even noticed about himself.
The notes weren't very long since they didn't exceed ten lines, but each word was full of admiration and affection. They always reminded him to eat and take care of his health, in addition to telling him day by day one of the qualities why his mysterious person had fallen in love with him. Chan blushed every time he read those reasons, it was no secret (to himself, since he didn't like others to know) that he didn't think very highly of himself; from his point of view there was nothing nice or admirable about his existence. But this person believed just the opposite, and they had made their life's mission to let him know that every day.
Today was no exception, the lined sheets were a pastel color (pink? orange?) and had small animal decorations at the bottom and top (he noticed that these came in "groups", the representative animal of these last ten notes was a smiling giraffe). It was incredibly adorable, and Chan found himself laughing softly every time he took out the contents of the envelope.
'Mondays are always hard! Especially this time of year (can't the professors trust in me and my knowledge of things? I don't see the need for them to take a test).
Anyway, Channie, this weekend I found myself thinking a lot about you, every time I start writing my reasons I feel like I'm going to be left speechless but then I remember that it's not difficult at all to love you. So here is another one:
Your resilience, I greatly admire your ability to always get up no matter how many blows life throws at you. The vast majority of us feel discouraged by the slightest inconvenience, but not you. And that is something incredible.
I hope you have a beautiful start to the week, remember to eat your meals and feel the sun.
Fondly,'
And that's how all the letters ended, the author seemed to hesitate every time they traced the last line, he could feel the uncertainty even on the paper. Chan knew that they were shy and always wondered when they were going to stop being to finally sign with their name and be able to meet that person who stole his heart with every word.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。
He was reading the note, hunched over his things, almost shielding the contents of the paper from the prying eyes of anyone who passed by him. You knew he was going to do it (he always did) but you couldn't stop your heart from racing like it was the first time it happened. You watched him from the hallway, hiding behind one of your textbooks while a silly smile appeared on your face, nothing made you happier than making him happy with your words, it's true what people say about "butterflies in the stomach" because that was what you were feeling right now.
His eyes crinkled in the most adorable way possible every time he smiled and from your spot in the hallway you could almost hear the sigh he let out after finishing reading the letter. After scanning his surroundings one last time, Chan placed the paper back into the envelope, and carefully placed it inside his notebook.
"You and your Shakespeare complex again" The sudden voice of your best friend so close made you jump in your place and drop the book you had in your hands. It hit the ground with a dull sound due to the thickness of its contents, and when you picked up the book again you turned around to face the figure of the perpetrator. He just laughed at you and your reaction, which earned him a closed-fist blow directly to his shoulder.
"You deserve it" You didn't even bother to return his reproachful gaze since he clearly felt like fighting, and instead, you returned your focus to Chan's classroom and his figure. He was no longer in his seat and you didn't want to look weird by leaning out the window door to look for him. So you sighed heavily and leaned your body against the wall while closing your eyes.
Until you felt Jeongin's presence come to your side "Are you going to tell him sometime?"
You didn't answer him.
Well, actually you did, with a growl that could mean either 'I'll do it today, stop bothering' or 'not even dead'. However, the blonde wasn't satisfied with your interpretation of an animal as a response and he began poking your ribs with his long fingers, drawing high-pitched sounds of protest from your lips.
"Stop it, Innie" You moved his hands away from your figure and stood firmly looking him in the eyes like a mother who is trying to discipline her misbehaving son. He crossed his arms with a satisfied smile crossing his face with foxlike features and, with a movement of his head, he invited you to speak.
"What do you want me to say? 'Hello Chan! It's me, the person who has been sending you letters like a fifteen-year-old for a year now. I've been in love with you since the moment I saw you at my best friend's house. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" You rolled your eyes tiredly and didn't wait for Jeongin to tell you what he thought, and so you started walking towards your classroom, with an exasperated five foot seven boy following closely behind you.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。
You still remembered the first time you'd seen him, and how couldn't you. His presence could illuminate even the darkest corner, and his personality attracted anyone around him.
It was the summer, and you'd gone to Jeongin's house to spend an afternoon together. The air conditioning in your apartment had broken two days ago, and you couldn't stand being in your room for another second, which was already beginning to feel like an industrial oven. When you arrived at your best friend's residence, you weren't surprised by the fact that there were more people than just the two of you. Jeongin was taking singing lessons at a nearby academy and had hit it off with some of his classmates; so while you didn't know them as well as he did, you had the chance to hang out with some of them a couple of times and you could say that they were the funniest guys you'd ever come across. Especially Hyunjin, who seemed to be like a glove with your best friend.
Jeongin's house felt cold, as if winter had come only for the Yang family and, although you shivered with every step you took towards the kitchen where voices could be heard, this felt like paradise compared to the hell you lived in your house (and you even thought it was cooler in hell).
Reaching the kitchen, you heard Hyunjin's melodious voice followed by his nasal, boisterous laughter at a comment Jeongin made. You shook your head laughing inwardly as you pushed the wooden door open to enter the space, the boys turning their heads in your direction as they heard the hinges snapping back into place.
Your best friend gave you his characteristic smile as he got up from his seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island to give you a small hug "I thought you weren't coming anymore!"
From Jeongin's shoulder you saw how Hyunjin gave you a smile and a wave, you tried to return the gesture as best you could considering that you were trapped in the arms of a boy who flatly stated that he didn't like hugs. It was getting long in your opinion, so you patted Jeongin on the back, letting him know that yes, you loved him very much, but you were still sticky with sweat from the walk in the sun and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable when he was so cool. When Jeongin let go of you, he opened his palm to introduce you to a person you hadn't seen before, "I hope you don't mind, that's Chan over there. He also goes to our academy, and he goes to university with us! Although he is a year ahead"
You smiled at Jeongin as you walked further into the kitchen to greet the new guest and in front of you stood one of the most attractive men you'd ever seen in your entire life. He wasn't very tall (you could tell even if he was sitting) but his broad shoulders gave him an intimidating presence, his hair looked messy in a swirl of brown curls, and although he was dressed from head to toe in black (you were sure his nails were painted that color too) on his face was a dimpled smile that took your breath away.
From one moment to the next you forgot how to articulate words and you felt like a fish opening and closing its mouth trying to find something to say, but your brain didn't seem to want to work.
You felt a small push on your right shoulder that took your body forward, towards the table, and towards Chan.
"How rude you are" Jeongin rolled his eyes, and although deep down you knew he was doing it to tease you, your cheeks turned red. You felt your tongue heavy in your mouth as the seconds passed and you were unable to utter a single word.
"Leave her alone, Innie. It's pretty hot outside, isn't it?" Chan's deep voice brought you out of your trance and forced you to look him in the eyes. He had a sincere smile on his face and was watching you with raised eyebrows, letting you know that he was going to listen to you when you wanted to respond.
Your heart did a complete turn in your chest, you were surprised in the best of ways at how friendly he was, the vast majority of boys with his attractiveness made that their only personality trait but he was attentive and considerate of all the people around him, even with complete strangers who hadn't stopped looking or saying anything to him in three minutes.
"Yes...yes, it's horrible! And the air conditioning in my house is broken and you can't imagine how hot it is! I feel like I'm going to die one of these days" The words came tumbling out of your mouth, since you hadn't had the time to stop and think about what exactly you wanted to say, and your nerves were playing the worst trick of your entire life.
Chan laughed again (even his laugh was pretty) and he nodded his head, not at all scared or surprised with the lexical vomit you just made.
"It must be like torture, really. You must be tired from the walk under the sun, why don't you sit down for a bit? The boys and I were planning to watch a movie" The brunette softly kicked one of the stools that were stored under the table in your direction.
You nodded shyly and took the seat he offered you, right in front of him. You left your phone on the cold marble of the table and looked around the kitchen for your best friend, you'd been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten into the conversation for five minutes and to be honest you desperately needed to focus on something other than Chan's penetrating gaze you felt on your face.
"Innie?" You called out to him with a small shout, loud enough for him to hear you even if he'd gone into the garden.
After a few seconds, your friend's blonde head peeked out of the left door that led to the living room, and a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I'm sorry! Since you two were talking, we decided to go prepare things for the movie."
Jeongin paused and looked at you evilly, a look that you knew very well and that didn't give you a good feeling at all "Chan, why don't you prepare something to eat? I bought some snacks today, come when you have everything ready~" And before you could protest, he disappeared from your sight again while laughing and yelling something at Hyunjin.
You immediately tensed up and cursed Jeongin in your mind, how dare he leave you alone with your newfound crush. If he was getting revenge for the time you tried to play matchmaker and failed then he was being very childish, that'd been years ago!
While the insulting thoughts against your best friend and all his ancestors accumulated in your brain, from the corner of your eye you watched as Chan got up from his seat and went to the counter where the mentioned snacks and bowls of colors were located, apparently the prankster you called your best friend had already prepared the trap before you even arrived.
You didn't want to look weirder than you already felt so with your limbs shaking and making even the slightest of movements difficult; you also got up from your seat and slowly approached where Chan was, you stood next to him (close enough for him to know that you were willing to help but far enough not to invade his personal space).
He looked at you briefly and smiled sideways, and didn't say anything as he gently pushed a bowl towards you. The task wasn't very complicated per se, but it did become extremely difficult when the only thing you could focus on were the large, veiny hands of the boy next to you, you hadn't realized how attractive it was to see a man opening packets of potato chips and arranging them in a small container until now.
"Jeongin said we go to the same university, do you study the same as him?" You were startled by the sudden interruption of silence, you turned to look at Chan after finishing preparing the bowl with the nachos.
"Yes, I mean, no. We share some classes because some subjects are correlative in each one's career but I could never do the same as Innie" You smiled shyly and shook your head.
"I study psychology," You finally said and looked at your companion, who had his eyes open and bright like a puppy's (how could it be possible for a person to be incredibly attractive and adorable at the same time? It would have to be illegal), and you wondered what it was that'd amazed him so much, there were millions of other people studying the same thing as you.
Without meaning to, you raised an eyebrow; studying his reaction. He laughed again (it was something he loved to do, apparently) and turned his entire body towards you, resting his left hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.
"That's incredible, the human mind is fascinating. I understand why you study that, for my part, I wouldn't read everything you have to read even if someone paid me."
You laughed loudly, infecting Chan as well. He was doing so with his whole body, his shoulders were shaking to the rhythm of his giggles and you could notice that, from time to time, a small squeak would appear in the sound of his laughter.
When the laughter died down, you looked at him again as you put the last bag of snacks in the cupboard in front of you.
"Yes, I mean, it's a lot to read but it's like you say. I'm interested in knowing the reason for behavior, and I would like to help people in the future. Mental health is something important" This last part came out in a whisper, you weren't used to revealing the reason for your career choice, most people told you that you should have chosen something that would make you rich in twenty years.
"That's incredible, I admire you a lot" Chan said in a soft voice, and you hadn't realized how close he'd gotten until you noticed the small touch of his fingers on your arm, the color quickly rose to your cheeks again and panic took over you, making you choke up when you spoke.
"Y-yes, thank you... not many think that way" And you moved your body away from his space; maybe a little abruptly but you were sure that if you continued in that position you were going to do or say something ridiculous, you couldn't trust your ability to reason at the moment.
Chan cleared his throat at your reaction and took two bowls in his hands, starting to walk towards the living room. You hadn't realized how loudly the other two boys were talking, were you so immersed in the situation to forget the outside world? Apparently yes.
"Are you done yet? The boys must be waiting" He stopped right in front of the door, waiting for you to take what you'd prepared.
You nodded softly, and after grabbing your preparations, you followed him into the living room.
You don't really remember what happened after that, you assume you watched the movies that the boys had already chosen before you arrived. You also don't remember if you had even paid attention, probably not, because you were very focused on keeping your breathing as normal as you could since unfortunately Hyunjin and Jeongin decided to each sit in an individual chair and by coincidence the only place left to sit was in the two-seat chair that your best friend's grandmother had given to his mother at her wedding, and conveniently Chan sat there too. So as the movie played on the screen, your heart raced with every accidental brush of your arms or legs against Chan's.
The only thing you remember clearly from that moment is that you couldn't help but look at his profile, trying to memorize every detail and every peculiarity of his expressions.
The rest of the summer felt like a haze, every time you made plans with Jeongin you knew Chan was going to be there. And that did nothing to dispel the feelings that were beginning to become more present with every minute you spent in his presence.
You liked him a little too much.
His kind nature and the way he treated everyone made you dizzy every time, but you were too shy to act on your feelings and unfortunately you weren't the only one who thought Chan was a good catch. Every now and then different girls approached him to ask him out, and although he always rejected them; you couldn't help but feel a little insecure about the situation. And there was also the small problem that he confessed to you one night in Hyunjin's garden: his last relationship had been somewhat toxic, and although it ended years ago, he was deeply hurt and didn't feel ready yet to fall for someone again.
That confession left a sour taste in your mouth, so you decided not to actively act on your feelings, you really didn't want to make Chan uncomfortable or force him into something he didn't want to do, let alone ruin the friendship you were building. But something as strong as love cannot be contained, and one sleepless night you found yourself scribbling in your notebook the things you wanted to say to him, the things you liked about him, and how he made you feel when you looked at him.
You weren't thinking when you left the first envelope on his desk, it was a completely impulsive decision that you regretted the moment you left his classroom. But when you turned around to go back and throw the letter into the trash, he already found it.
At first he didn't read them, you knew because you'd overheard when he mentioned it to Hyunjin during an outing the three of you made, Chan believed that one of his friends was playing a prank on him.
And that was the last straw that broke the camel's back, although you told yourself that you weren't going to write anymore letters for the sake of your friendship and your own feelings you had to let him know (even if anonymously) that he was someone worthy of love and that he wasn't what the people in his past made him believe he was.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。
Once you arrived at the classroom (miraculously before the professor, you didn't think you could endure another lecture and there were still three more hours before leaving the university) you sat down in your respective seat by the window. The day was really beautiful, and from your place you could see the large patio where the entire student body went to relax between classes, it was your favorite place in the entire building and at this moment you wanted nothing more than to be leaning against a tree feeling the warm sunlight on your face.
"I'm not saying you have to tell him that but don't you think it's been too long already?" Jeongin didn't seem to want to drop the topic for today, he'd gotten up from his seat taking advantage of the fact that there was still no sign of the teacher and sat at your table, almost knocking all the things that were on top of it to the floor. You rested your head on the bench and waved a hand in the air, brushing it off in an attempt to say 'leave me alone already'.
Your best friend snorted exasperatedly, "You really are a special case, you've been in love with him for a year, for God's sake."
At the boy's aggressive tone of voice, you took your head off the table and looked at him with a frown. He looked back at you like he always did: challenging and forcing you to speak for yourself.
"It's not as easy as you say, Jeongin" You spat angrily.
"For all I know, if he finds out, he could throw my stupid letters in the trash and confessing would not only make me look weird but it would also ruin the friendship we have" You lowered your face, feeling a little sad "And the last thing I would like to do is lose him"
Jeongin’s expression softened as he realized the depth of your anxiety, and he reached out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I get it, I really do. You don't want to jeopardize what you have but you deserve happiness too, you know? Maybe it's time to take a risk."
“I don’t even think I have a chance” You sighed, feeling defeated.
Jeongin moved closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "You may have more possibilities than you think, but sometimes you have to give destiny a little push."
You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words and just as you were about to question him further, the professor made an appearance in the classroom ordering everyone to take their respective seats and apologizing for the delay. Your best friend flashed you a bright smile with his trademark dimples and snuck over to his table, effectively ending the conversation and leaving you wondering what he meant for the rest of the day.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。
If Jeongin's plan was for you to not sleep for a week, then he'd achieved it. His words had been spinning through your head like a whirlpool that seemed to have no end. You knew that he'd been friends with the brunette for a longer time than you, but were they close enough that the youngest knew the secrets inside Chan's heart?
Or was he giving you the advice that all friends gave to their other friends desperate to believe in the illusion that the person they like reciprocates their feelings? No, Jeongin wouldn't do that, he was too honest for his own good and besides you'd known each other longer (your mothers said you were born to be friends). So did that mean there really was a chance?
No, of course not, that was ridiculous.
You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts as you rang the doorbell at Hyunjin's house. Your group had agreed to meet to study and you needed to have a clear mind, the exams were around the corner and you couldn't afford to keep your brain preoccupied thinking about something that would never happen.
The minutes passed slowly as you waited for the homeowner, and while you were thinking about ringing the doorbell again fearing that the boys inside hadn't heard you, the door suddenly opened, and nothing could have prepared you to see the person who has been living rent free in your mind, you knew he would be there, but you didn't expect to face him so quickly.
"Hey, you arrived just in time, Hyunjin's mom just brought us some drinks" Chan was his usual self, with his beautiful smile plastered on his face and his relaxed attitude.
You blinked once, twice, three times before you managed a small forced smile and responded, "Oh, great, thanks," and you stood there in silence, unable to look him in the eyes.
Chan tilted his head in silent question at your attitude, "Is everything okay?"
His concern for your well-being was evident in his voice and he struck a chord in your heart. You looked at him briefly, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment and nodded, still struggling to find your voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” You finally responded, trying to sound casual despite the jumble of emotions inside you.
Chan's friendly demeanor never wavered as he led you into the house, you followed him with a notable distance between your bodies and so when you arrived at the living room where the boys were already seated with open textbooks and a monstrous amount of things to eat you almost ran to sit next to Jeongin, an attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde, who looked at you with his eyebrows raised in a telepathic question.
Meanwhile, Chan didn't take his eyes off you as he sat next to Hyunjin on the couch in front of where you and your best friend were.
The afternoon went by slowly, too slowly for your liking, you'd gone with all the desire to study and get your mind out of the anxiety that was consuming you, but that attempt had been futile.
Although your gaze remained glued to your notes and your blue highlighter (which hadn't highlighted anything in the last hour, you'd read the same paragraph five times without getting a clue of what it was trying to say) you felt how two eyes were burning holes in your figure. The room was suffocatingly silent, and you were sure that your irregular breathing was evident to the entire group; your nerves were so on edge that when your best friend's voice filled the void you almost jumped in your place.
"I'm tired, how about we take a break?"Jeongin raised his arms towards the ceiling, stretching his back and then collapsing gracelessly against the soft cushions of the sofa.
Hyunjin nodded while massaging his neck, stiff after so many hours of looking down at his notes and reading "I thought no one was going to say it, I was going crazy."
Chan didn't say anything, he just closed his notebooks and imitated Jeongin in his relaxed pose against the couch. You felt out of place when the boys started chatting about meaningless things to lighten the atmosphere.
You only nodded when you felt your input was necessary, or laughed when you thought that was the reaction you should have but you didn't speak, because in fact, you weren't sure you were going to say anything coherent or at least make your voice louder than a whisper, so you decided that the best course of action was to stay quiet.
If the boys noticed it, they didn't say anything, and you couldn't be more grateful for it.
"You know" Chan interrupted the laughter of the other two boys after a not-so-funny story told by Hyunjin.
Everyone focused their attention on him, the tone of voice he'd used was more serious than his usual; so serious that it forced you to look up for the first time since the recess began and you found Chan's brown eyes looking directly at you, doing it so intensely that you thought he was staring right into your soul.
You held your breath, but you weren't prepared for what he said next.
"My secret admirer hasn't written to me in a few days" He was still looking at you, but there was something strange hidden in his irises, something you couldn't decipher.
Silence once again took over Hyunjin's living room, and the tension could be cut with a knife, it almost seemed like time had stopped when the brunette pronounced the last syllable. Your mouth felt dry, and your palms began to sweat. The weight of his words floated in the air and a thousand thoughts passed through your mind, each one more disconcerting than the last.
Hyunjin snorted, and looked maliciously at Chan "Maybe they are tired of you."
His mocking comment broke the heavy silence like thunder. Jeongin joined in with a playful smile, taking the opportunity to tease Chan mercilessly. “Maybe your secret admirer found someone else,” he joked, his tone light and teasing, “Or maybe they are just playing hard to get.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, wanting to burst while the boys laughed at Chan's expense while he, in response, rolled his eyes and smiled sarcastically at the jokes that his friends kept saying, he also looked at you from time to time making your discomfort even more evident.
You desperately searched for words to contribute to the conversation, your voice choked by the rising anxiety. But as Jeongin and Hyunjin's playful teasing continued, you remained silent, feeling like a bystander in a conversation that was becoming more cryptic by the second. Chan's gaze never left you, and despite the teasing, there was something in his eyes that betrayed a deeper understanding. His comment felt like a puzzle piece falling into place, yet you couldn't put your finger on what he truly knew.
As the laughter subsided, the room descended into an awkward silence once more, and then Chan finally spoke up, his tone more subdued than before. "Well, whoever it is," he began, his eyes still locked on yours, "I hope they know they've brightened my days with their letters."
The comment hung in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to pull everyone into its gravity. Jeongin and Hyunjin exchanged glances, their playful demeanor suddenly giving way to something more conspiracy.
You, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming mix of emotions. The anxiety that'd been building throughout the day reached a crescendo. You wanted to say something, to respond in some way, but the words caught in your throat.
Hyunjin broke the silence once more, this time with a touch of sincerity in his voice. "Whoever they are," he said, "they must really care about you, man." Jeongin nodded in agreement, and the room seemed to shift, it was a subtle transformation, but one that you couldn't help but notice.
Chan smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, "They do mean a lot to me."
You desperately needed a moment to collect your thoughts and emotions after that serious conversation, so you mumbled something about getting a drink from the kitchen, excusing yourself with a weak smile and slowly, you retreated from the living room, the voices of the boys fading as you put some distance between you and the group.
In the dimly lit kitchen, you leaned against the countertop, your heart still racing from the tension in the room. The realization that Chan cherished those anonymous letters hit you like a ton of bricks. You'd never imagined how much they meant to him.
Just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps behind you made you jump. You turned to find Chan standing there, a serious yet gentle expression on his face. His presence seemed to fill the room with warmth, and your anxiety ratcheted up another notch.
"Hey," he said softly, "You okay?"
You nodded, unable to form words an he took a step closer, his gaze never left yours.
Chan's brown eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had frozen around you. You couldn't contain the thoughts racing through your mind any longer. With a trembling voice, you finally asked the question that'd been gnawing at you.
"Do you know who's been sending those letters?"
Chan's expression remained calm, but you could see a glimmer of something in his eyes, a hint of knowing. He didn't answer immediately, instead, he stepped closer, narrowing the distance between you.
His voice was soft as he replied, "I have a feeling I might have a clue."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched his face for more hints. What did he mean by 'a clue'? It was clear he was being deliberately vague, and it only added to your curiosity.
"But," he continued, "I'd like to hear it from you. Tell me, do you know who it is?"
You hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on you. The walls between you and Chan seemed to dissolve, and the vulnerability in his eyes was mirrored in your own. With a shaky breath, you summoned the courage to speak, your voice quivering with fear and anticipation.
"It's me."
The admission hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes locked on the floor as you waited for his reaction. The seconds felt like hours as you replayed all the letters, and the emotions you'd poured into them.
Chan's silence stretched, and the tension in the room became palpable. Your heart raced, and you feared the worst — rejection, awkwardness, or even laughter.
Then, he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. The warmth and kindness in his gaze melted away your fears.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft and sincere. "I've cherished every single one."
As tears welled up in your eyes, Chan reached out to gently wipe them away with his thumb. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, holding you close as your emotions overwhelmed you. You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they flowed freely as you nestled into his embrace. He whispered soothing words, his voice a balm to your soul, reassuring you that everything would be okay.
After a moment of shared comfort, you pulled away slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. "But how did you know it was me?" you finally asked, your voice still trembling.
Chan smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, a knowing twinkle in his eye, and replied, "I had my suspicions, especially after some of the things you wrote. But what really gave it away was your handwriting."
You blinked in surprise.
Handwriting? You hadn't considered that, no, haven't even thought about it when you started this a year ago, and to be honest you felt a little dumb.
Chan continued, "I recognized your handwriting from a birthday card you gave me a while back. It was similar to the writing in the letters. And then, well, I saw you looking at me during our hangouts, and it all just started to make sense."
You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. It seemed like you'd left more clues than you thought. But instead of feeling exposed, you felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that he'd noticed your feelings all along.
With a shy smile, you said, "I guess I'm not very good at hiding my feelings, am I?"
Chan chuckled softly. "No, but that's okay. I'm glad you told me."
As you gazed into Chan's eyes, you noticed something change in his expression. The initial surprise and curiosity gave way to a more tender, understanding look. He cupped your face gently, his touch warm and reassuring.
"You know," he began softly, "I've always appreciated those letters. They made me feel special, like someone out there truly understood me. And I never wanted to pressure you into revealing yourself," Chan continued. "I wanted you to do it when you were ready."
"I was just afraid," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of what you might think, of how it might change things between us."
Chan's thumb traced small circles on your cheek as he reassured you, "Don't be. This doesn't change how I feel about what we have. If anything, it makes it even more special."
A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, but this time, it wasn't a tear of anxiety or fear. It was a tear of relief, of happiness. You leaned into Chan's touch, and he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours, and before you knew it, his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss. The world seemed to melt away as your lips met his, you felt the warmth of his body against yours, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine. His hands cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, as if he never wanted to let you go.
The taste of his lips was sweet and comforting, like a warm embrace on a cold winter's day, you could feel the steady beat of Chan's heart, matching the rhythm of your own. The world around you disappeared, and there was only the two of you.
And just as you were lost in that sweet moment, the kitchen door burst open, and in walked your friends, their playful banter filling the room while wearing grins so wide they threatened to split their faces. Jeongin couldn't help but tease you, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "Well, well, looks like someone finally got the courage to make a move!"
Hyunjin joined in with a mock-sympathetic tone. "And here we thought we'd have to wait another century for this to happen!"
You blushed furiously, pulling away from Chan who chuckled in amusement, still holding you close. "You guys have impeccable timing," he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Jeongin winked at you, "Hey! We're just glad we won't have to hear you two mooning over each other anymore."
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explorevenus · 1 year
Text
something permanent ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader
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nsfw (18+) - minors pls dni i will scream
this is a dark fic for a multitude of reasons. if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, noncon, forced breeding, body horror, gore, & blood
in other words-- DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.
ahem. now that that’s over.
word count - 4.4k
description - nothing in leon’s life was ever permanent and his life circumstances made sure of that. over the years he was beaten down from a bright-eyed rookie police officer to a weary and angry shell of his former self. when a chance meeting brought you into his life, he knew what he had to do. he knew you had to be something permanent.
tags/warnings - yandere!leon, dark!leon, leon being patronizing and condescending and sickly sweet, fem/afab!reader, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, pet names (doll, sweetheart, princess, baby, puppy, etc.), noncon, forced breeding, housewife kink, body horror (spoiler alert he rips your IUD out with his bare hands), slight gore, blood, noncon, stockholm syndrome if u squint, dollification if u squint, descriptions of vomiting, no use of (Y/N)
a/n - ok i genuinely don’t know if anyone even wants this but i personally find it egregious how little yandere!leon content exists out there in this world because listen. i know a lot of people consider leon submissive and breedable but personally i believe this broken angry man just wants a sweet little thing to dote on and take care of to make him forget about the horrors of his life and he will stop at nothing to make that happen ♡ anyways. enjoy. and if it’s not ur cup of tea idc keep scrolling :^)
p.s. this is obviously a very canon-deviant, borderline crack fic so it’s not really established which leon this is outside of referring to the events of re2 being a long time ago, so go wild with your interpretation of that to read this as whichever leon is ur favorite ♡ i personally like to imagine post-re4 or infinite darkness leon !! ;w;
read part 2 here !! ♡
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡
-venus ♡
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You were slow to wake, which wasn't particularly unusual... as of late, but your body felt so heavy, like your muscles had dissolved into mush overnight. Consciousness gradually took its hold of you, and as it did, you began to realize that something seemed off. Different. Wrong, even. You peeked your eyes open, vision blurry with sleep, but you could see you were beneath your pink comforter, a plush of yours held closely to your chest, all normal so far...
But your walls aren't navy blue, they're white... They're supposed to be white--
You jolted wide awake, panic coursing through your weak body as you struggled to even sit up. That's when you noticed an unfamiliar, muscular arm draped over your waist, and that dialed up your anxiety about tenfold. It was hard to move, but you were able to turn your head enough to catch a look at the man it belonged to.
Strong, blond, maybe a bit tired in the eyes... maybe a bit familiar looking... but you were crying now, blurring your sight all over again.
"Shh, shh... you're okay, sweetheart, you're safe now," He hushed, holding you closely to him as you struggled. Smooching the top of your head, he spoke into your messy hair, "I've got you. I've got you, princess."
But... how? The last thing you remembered was tucking into your own bed, in your own apartment, and falling asleep there, how could you have possibly wound up in a stranger's bed with zero recollection of ever leaving yours? Your head spun as you tried and failed to fend off the unwanted affection with weak arms. His hold on you didn't dare budge as he continued to coo softly into your ear, to reassure you that you were safe, that he wouldn't let anyone, or anything, hurt you.
The anxiety stewing within you finally reached a tipping point, twisting your stomach into tight knots, and that's when you spoke your first words since you'd awoken. "I-I'm gonna throw up," You wept, clawing weakly at the covers and, well, at him, for freedom. 
Thankfully he was quick to act, scooping you into his arms as he sat up and rose from the bed, carrying you to the adjoined bathroom. When he turned the light on, you managed to get a better look at his face as you passed by the mirror, and it took you a second to recognize him, partly due to your state of delirium, but primarily because you only knew him very vaguely. You had only met him once at work many months ago, when he'd sparked up a conversation with you as you made him his coffee. After that, he became a regular at the café you worked at-- you remembered his name was Leon.
So why were you waking up in his bed, with your belongings lying around like you'd lived here the whole time?
Your knees hit the tile and you began retching immediately, flinching as he reached forward to collect your hair away from your face. Puking on an empty stomach is never a fun time, but your nerves were alight with panic and every time you reminded yourself of your predicament, a new wave of nausea would crash over you. He rubbed your back sweetly, but it didn't help.
Once the vomiting eventually subsided, an awful, hollow pain took place of it. Your thoughts were running at a thousand miles per hour. You didn't have the time to acknowledge it, let alone nurse it, outside of clutching your shirt at the waist. 
"Let me get you some water, babe," Leon said as he hesitantly stood from your side, eyeing you worriedly like you'd just fall to pieces if he let you out of his sight. "You poor thing..."
But all you could think about was getting out of here. "N-No, no, what time is it? I have to get to work--"
"I don't think so, sweetheart," He interrupted. "You're sick, you should be in bed."
"I'm fine," Much to the protest of your jellied legs, you pushed yourself up from the floor and fought through the head rush in an attempt to slip past him, but he simply caught you at the waist and brought you to a halt. Your ears were ringing, the room spinning around you, and you still weren't sure how to interpret what was even going on here. "L-Let go of me!" You cried out.
He simply hushed you, holding you tightly to his chest and petting your hair as you writhed, failing miserably to get him off of you. "Don't worry about work, okay? Just rest up and get better. I'll call them for you."
Your stomach sank even further-- what the fuck is happening right now? 
Despite your thrashing he managed to lead you back to the bed as gently as one would fine china, scooping you up into his arms so he could lay you down exactly where you'd awoken earlier. Your chest heaved with sobs as you shrank into yourself in an effort to get away from him.
His eyes left you for just a moment as he reached for the covers, no doubt to tuck you in-- in a split second decision, you seized that time to scramble out of his bed and break for the door. Sadly, as perhaps you should have seen coming, he was more than strong and fast enough to catch up to you, even caught off guard. As soon as your shaking hand made contact with the cool metal doorknob, he halted you where you stood with a bruising grip on your bicep.
You cried out, trying in vain to peel yourself away from him, but it was no use.
"Come on, silly baby, you heard me," He tsked, dragging you back toward the bed. "No need to be running off anywhere, especially on a sour stomach."
"P-Please--" You gasped through tears.
"I'm sorry, little one, but that's final," Leon hummed with a patronizing but oddly sweet tone. It was as if he were scolding a temperamental child.
He basically wrestled you back into the bed, enveloping you tightly in his arms as he laid down beside you. You struggled against his grasp, but again, it was absolutely no use. He simply pet your hair and pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw, attempting to soothe you with restraint and unwanted affection. 
You sucked in a labored breath, hiccupping, "Don't do this to me, please don't do this to me... I-I just wa-wanna go home, jus' wanna go h-home... Leon please--"
"Shh... oh, good heavens. You are home, princess," He mused, brushing away a stream of your hot tears with his thumb. "You'll see. Just relax and let me take care of you."
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Nothing in Leon's life was ever permanent.
All he'd ever wanted was the American dream, to serve his community and meet a pretty girl to share his life with, to settle down in a big house with a fenced yard and two or three little Kennedys running around, maybe a dog. What he wouldn't give to come home at the end of a long day to his beautiful wife, belly swollen with his children, preparing dinner in the kitchen while the existing little ones play with their toys in the other room.
He would enter, slipping off his shoes with a relaxed sigh and a "Honey, I'm home!" to which the aforementioned little ones would rush to the door to hug him at his knees. He'd put one up on his shoulders while the other tugged at his hand, turning into the kitchen to give his beautiful wife a kiss. She would ask of his day and he would say it was good, but better now that he's home with her. With his free hand he would cradle her belly and ask "What's for dinner, you two?" to which she would reply "Your favorite," and as he smiled and thanked her with a kiss he would be silently plotting to thank her properly after the kids are asleep by fucking her full of his cum.
That was all he'd ever wanted. But, day after day after god forsaken day, the chance grew slimmer and slimmer until it had shriveled into something molecular. He didn't even get through his first day at the police station before everything went to shit.
Because of this, Leon began to lose himself over the years. He was no longer the bright-eyed rookie officer looking forward to his even brighter future. He was a broken man, worn down to the bone by years of death, plague, losing everyone he'd ever loved in one way or another-- Leon couldn't take the loss anymore. He wanted-- no, needed-- something permanent, something to give him even the slightest taste of that dream he once had.
When he met you, it wasn't even a question anymore. He knew you were the one. One way or another, he would have you.
He couldn't court you in the traditional way, of course-- it was too dangerous for you to be seen with him. After all, everything he'd ever touched had a way of turning to shit. So, it began with following you home after work so he'd know where you lived. Soon after that he would let himself in when you weren't home-- you weren't smart enough not to keep your key under the mat, furthering how sure he felt that you needed him to take care of you-- he would take little things of yours home with him just to have your scent around.
At first it was just little things like near-empty bottles of shampoo and stray pairs of panties from your laundry basket. Then it was sweaters from your closet, chewed gum and used flossers from your trash can. He'd pay close attention to your grocery lists and what you kept in your pantry so he'd know what kind of food you liked. 
When you did come home, he would sneak out quietly and watch you through your windows, familiarizing himself with your routine. The first thing you'd do when you came home from a long day of work was kick off your heels and change into something comfortable to do your yoga. After a while, you'd pull yourself up from the pink mat and cook dinner. After you'd eat, you'd relax with a book or a video game for a bit before taking a shower and changing into pajamas. Then, you'd brew yourself a mug of tea and retire to the bedroom for the evening where you'd watch documentaries or put on white noise until you eventually fell asleep.
At 7:00 a.m., you'd wake up in the morning and do it all over again.
All he could think about was what he'd do when he finally had you all to himself. Under his roof, you would never have to work another day in your life. Gone would be the days of pouring coffee and baking pastries for random idiots who treated you like shit. All you would ever have to worry about is being pampered, having your entire day to yourself, waiting for him to come home, spending all the money on his credit cards.
And carrying his children, of course.
So, as he held you tightly in his arms while you sobbed and begged to go back to that tiny apartment, all he could think about now was how to fix this. How to convince you he really loved you, how to make you feel truly at home.
The first few weeks were hard for him. Really, really hard.
You were refusing to eat, laying wide awake at night, swinging rapidly between sobbing, screaming and complete apathy. Sometimes he would come into the bedroom and catch you fiddling with the window, or attempting to circumvent the lock on the door by stuffing the mechanism with tissue. You would hit him, kick at him and spit in his face, even as you grew weaker and weaker with malnourishment, not that you really stood a chance before that anyway.
Still, it was hard to watch you shrink in your clothes. It was hard to see your cheeks hollowing by the day. It was hard to hold back your brittle hair while you'd vomit from the nerves, still trying to fight him off of you. It was hard to watch your body tense every time he entered the room.
Just when he'd began to lose hope, he discovered a neat little tool to help you behave. In some countries it was called "devil's breath." The slightest bit of powder could be sprinkled into your water, or over your food, or even into your clothes-- it absorbs through the skin-- and within minutes it would render you quite pliable. Leon didn't want to drug you, of course-- he liked you better when you were lucid-- but it certainly felt like a good place to start, a helpful tool to train you.
When he'd give you a dose, you would let him coddle you without incident. You would lay limp on his chest while he played with your hair and felt your soft skin beneath your shirt. You would allow him to spoon food or tip water into your mouth. You would let him dress you up like his perfect little dolly. You would blush and whimper and whine, and more importantly, not fight him, while he fucked you full of his cum, just like his dream.
There was just one problem-- after about two months of trying daily, it would seem his seed wasn't taking.
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Your heart pounded in your ears as the sound of Leon's footsteps nearing the bedroom door grew louder. You glanced over at the clock-- it was 6:15. He was off work for the evening and you knew what that meant.
The lock clicked quietly before the door creaked open, revealing your captor.
"Honey, I'm home!" He smiled excitedly, approaching the bed with a glass of water in hand.
You knew it was for you. You knew he had done something to it. You also knew you didn't intend to drink it.
"W-Welcome home, daddy," You said in a near whisper, forcing a half-smile. While you had definitely lost the majority of the fight in you, that didn't mean it didn't nauseate you to comply with his wishes. "Did you have a good day?"
Tucking your hair behind your ear, he offered you the glass of water while he replied as he always did, "My day was fine, but it's so much better now that I'm home with you, princess."
You smiled at him like it was the first time he'd ever said it, taking the glass with a shaking hand. You stared at it for a moment before mustering up the courage to say, "D-Daddy, I don't want the medicine anymore. I don't think I need it, and it doesn't make me feel good."
"You don't want your medicine anymore, baby?" He asked, tipping your chin up to look at him. You shook your head, rounding your eyes to convince him that much more. "Well, alright, but you have to promise to behave for me."
Now you were nodding, a little bit too eagerly. It was sort of humiliating. "I promise, daddy, I'll behave! I don't want the medicine anymore. I promise I'll be good."
With a proud grin he took the glass from your hand and set it on the nightstand, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "That's what I like to hear, babydoll. You know, good little girls get rewarded..." His large hand spread over your thigh, inching up toward the hem of your baggy shirt.
You stiffened, but didn't push him away. He smirked, dipping his head down to kiss at your neck, large hand sliding up your shirt until he nudged it up enough to pull it off. You were bare for him now, save for panties, and given your experience with him you knew it wouldn't be long until those were discarded somewhere across the room. With a gentle hand at your shoulder he pushed you onto your back, your legs hanging off the side of the bed, and you were curious where he was going with that until he sank to his knees in front of you and began pulling your panties down.
Your eyes screwed shut, thankful that he couldn't see your face as he spread your thighs and greeted your cunt with a slow lick up the length of you. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles, pretty much holding your breath to keep yourself from kicking him away from you. His fingertips buried into the plush skin of your thighs to hold you apart as he began to eat you out more passionately, suckling your clit up into his mouth and lapping at your hole like he was starving.
If there was one thing you would give him credit for, it would be his skilled tongue. Perhaps he was crazy and obsessed, but he certainly knew how to translate that obsession into something that benefitted you both. You wouldn't have succumbed to it so willingly if he weren't at least good at it.
Still, it was hard to feel any enthusiasm. His attention might have felt good physically, but it certainly didn't feel good mentally. 
You flinched when you felt a fingertip prodding at your cunt. He pulled away just far enough to tsk, "Relax and let me make you feel good, puppy. You said you would behave for me."
"Y-Yes, daddy," You muttered, continuing to clutch the sheets as you tried to control your breathing.
His thick index finger sank into you down to the knuckle, almost immediately curling up to brush against the spongy spot within you that made you see stars. As much as you tried to fight it you gasped, quickly bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, but the sound you'd made hadn't slipped past Leon. You felt him smirk against your skin as he pressed sloppy kisses to your thigh, reaching up with his free hand to force yours away from your face.
"Don't be shy, princess," He spoke against the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses up to your clit. "I want to hear just how good it feels."
You whimpered, hips squirming into his affection, and he chuckled approvingly, bringing his mouth back to you fully to continue eating you out while he fucked his finger into you. Soon after his index finger was joined by his middle, and you keened as he reached more deeply into you than he possibly ever had.
He pumped his fingers in and out for a moment, alternating between lapping at your cunt and kissing your thighs, and just as the coil inside began to tighten he suddenly... stopped?
You waited for a second, catching your breath, expecting him to continue any minute. But he didn't. Instead, he took on a tone that froze your blood as he asked, "Sweetheart, what is this?"
Then, you felt a sharp tug at your insides that made you yelp.
"Leon!" You shouted at him in a break of character, attempting to scoot away from him, but he grabbed your hips to still you. "That hurt!"
Another tug. You cried out, trying as you might to snap your thighs shut and push him away, but he wasn't budging.
"You never told me you had an IUD."
"Well, I do, so stop yanking on it! It hurts--"
The next words out of his mouth truly fucking broke you.
"That just won't do. It's no wonder you're not pregnant yet."
You sat up immediately. "Pregnant?"
He ignored you, tugging at it again. You screamed.
"L-Leon, don't! I can get it taken out by a doctor, I swear, I'll get it taken out!"
He shook his head. "And wait even longer to knock you up, pretty girl? Not happening. It's coming out now."
You screamed again, thrashing in his hold. He withdrew from inside you for just a moment, pinning you to the bed by your hip while he reached for your panties on the floor and shoved them into your mouth to silence you.
"There, there, angel. It'll be over before you know it, like ripping off a band-aid," He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you screeched through the cotton. "I'm gonna give you my babies, I promise. Gonna make you a mommy, and we’ll be so happy."
Before you could properly react he forced his fingers back inside you, yanking at the device until you felt a sickening tear and the unmistakable heat of blood rushing out of you. You curled into yourself, wailing, gasping for breath through the panties in your mouth as he withdrew his blood-soaked fingers, holding up the gory IUD in the light.
"There you are, princess. All better," He smiled contently, discarding the device on the bedside table. "You did so good. You were so brave for me."
You were bawling, shrieking through your gag as your vision blurred into white. Leon kissed up your thighs before standing to unbuckle his belt, and he didn't get much further than that before the panic and agonizing pain got to you and you lost consciousness.
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You woke up the next morning with your thighs sore and sticky with blood. You lifted the comforter to see a deep red pool seeping out from between your legs, and the more you started to wake up, the more aware you became of the pain. You were cramping terribly, sweating buckets, your ears were ringing and you felt weak. Leon had left for work already, so it was up to you to get yourself to the bathroom.
Your entire body was trembling as you stumbled out of the bed, dripping blood in a trail behind you as you dragged yourself to the bathroom and crawled into the bathtub. You peeled off your pajama shorts and panties, watching in horror as a mixture of thick blood and cum spilled out of you and ran slowly toward the drain. Once again, you began to cry. Obviously he'd had his way with you after you passed out, buckets of blood be damned.
Even with your foggy, staticky brain, you couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about the fact that he had no intention of taking you to a hospital, so there was really no telling what might happen with your profusely painful and bleeding sex. Thinking about how fucking screwed you were now without your IUD, your best defense against falling pregnant with your captor's child. Thinking about the fact that if he wouldn't even take you to a doctor for this, he must be expecting a home birth if you were to become pregnant, which you doubted he was qualified to handle and therefore had a very good chance to result in your slow, painful death.
You couldn't stand the shivering anymore, so you filled the bathtub with hot water. It felt nice, though it was rather gross that the water was stained a glassy rose color with your own blood, not that you really had the strength to care in the moment.
In fact, you didn't have much strength at all. It wasn't long before you found yourself losing consciousness once again.
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"Fuck, princess, can you hear me?"
You were trying to open your eyes, to twitch a finger, anything, but it was so hard.
"Shit. Stay right here, babydoll, I'm gonna get you some help, okay? I promise. I never meant to hurt you... shit...”
You heard some shuffling, pacing and possibly Leon talking to himself in the other room. You figured he was trying to decide whether or not to take you to a hospital. Part of you hoped he would and the other part of you hoped he would just let you die there. More than anything, you just wished you would have let him drug you in the first place so maybe you wouldn't be in this level of pain.
After what could have very well been 20 seconds or 20 minutes, Leon kneeled beside the tub and draped a cold washcloth over your forehead, reaching into the bloodied water to pull the drain. With what little control you had over your own movement you managed to crack your eyes open, which seemed to please him.
"Oh thank god... thank god, baby. I almost thought I lost you there," He huffed, voice shaking. "Listen to me closely, princess. Stay with me. I'm going to take you to a doctor but you have to be a good girl, okay? You have to be good for me and go along with what I say, even if it isn't true. I'm just doing what's best for you so you can get all better, okay?"
You nodded weakly. You weren't in any position to put up a fight, and all you really wanted was an end to the pain. Besides, he couldn't supervise you constantly at the hospital. There had to be at least some opportunity to tell someone what he'd done to you.
He somehow managed to dress you in some comfortable clothes of his, a soft black t-shirt that hung halfway down your thighs and a pair of black shorts with some little socks of yours to protect your feet. Then, he carried you princess-style out to the car where he bundled you up in the passenger seat and buckled you in.
As he pulled hurriedly out of the driveway, he made a phone call to someone.
"Hey, it's me... I need the best people we have in the infirmary, stat. I'm on my way now," He spoke sternly into the phone, white knuckling the wheel. "I'm fine, it's not for me, it's my girlfriend. It's a long story that I'll tell you when I get there, but she's bleeding pretty bad. I found her unconscious when I came home... I appreciate it, thanks. See you in 10."
Leon reached over the center console to squeeze your thigh in reassurance.
"You're gonna be just fine, princess. I'm gonna make sure they make you all better, okay?"
Your stomach sank. He obviously wasn't taking you to a hospital. From the sounds of it he was taking you somewhere he had a good amount of leverage, somewhere everyone knew him, held him in high regard and wouldn't dare challenge his word, let alone take yours over his. You slumped to the side, resting your head on the cool window with a quiet bonk. Leon was quick to ask if you were okay but you couldn't muster up a response. Your ears began ringing again and the world around you collapsed into tunnel vision.
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part 2 !!
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Dirty Work 35
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: ah, we arrive at the Odinson stronghold.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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"Remember the rules, pet," Mr. Laufeyson reminds you as you pass beneath an iron archway covered in ivy and roses. 
"Yes..." your voice trails off as your mouth falls open in awe.
It's a fairytale. Even more beautiful than his own garden. There's a fountain at the center of the long drive, round hedges framing it and mosaic stone all around. Petals flutter on bushes and grass sprawls all around, marble statues and stone benches speckled over the expanse. The house is built of white brick with figures of sprites and elk along the facade.
"...Mr. Laufeyson," you finish breathily.
"Yes, it is rather marvelous," he says without genuine reverence. "I assume mother will be using it as her venue for Walpurgisnacht, however, she may just as easily book the banquet hall in the next city."
"Oh," you utter.
"Not to worry, she will likely have much sorted out already. It's why I wonder at her insistence that you accompany me. She is ever decisive and much prefers doing things by her own hand," he steers around the curve of the drive and stops just before the steps. "Suppose we must take it in stride."
He flips the engine and it quiets. Birds cheep and insects hum just outside. He unclicks his seatbelt and you mirror him, climbing out just a hair after he does. You turn to gape up at the facade once more as you shut the door gently.
Mr. Laufeyson comes around and heaves, "well, then--"
"Should I get the bags?"
"Don't bother, the help will deal with it," he assures and points you ahead.
He walks beside you, stretching his neck as he pushes his head side to side. He extends his fingers and rolls his shoulders. Still the tension nestles once more in his posture. You take the steps one at a time and fall a pace behind him. He marches ahead to the doors and waits for you to catch up before he pulls it open.
You step inside and quickly slip off your shoes as you eye the shining floor. It's just as immaculate, if not more, than his estate. You try to imagine how long it would take you to clean it on your own. Maybe that's why you're here.
"Darlings," Frigga trills as she appears in an archway to your left, "oh, you have arrived."
She goes to you first and kisses both your cheeks, barely glancing off your chin. Then she turns to Laufeyson and cradles his cheeks as she admires him, "I'm so happy you came."
"Mmm, and father knows we were invited?"
"Of course," she tuts as she draws away from him, "tell me, have you eaten? You were on the road such a long time. I have cucumber sandwiches and some iced berry tea."
"I'm not hungry," Laufeyson mutters as he peers around, almost expectantly.
"What about you, hon?" She takes your hand.
"Um, I..." you look to Laufeyson for your answer but your stomach growls before you can answer. 
"Feed her," he says as he flutters his fingers, "get her settled. I think I can keep myself entertained."
You frown guiltily. You didn't mean to disobey him. His eyes dull with that unimpressed haze as he turns on his heel and strides away. 
"I believe your brother is outside," she calls after him.
"Thank you for warning me," Laufeyson as he scoffs and disappears through another doorway.
"Ugh, boys," she chides, "pray you only ever have one son, though a brood is never a bad thing."
She turns, her hand still around yours as she drags you through the gilded archway. You let her as you drink in the beauty around every corner and crevice. This is like a dream. You've never seen anything like it. Not outside movies. You remember that one you watched on cable with Anne Hathaway. You only saw half before your father shut it off.
"Please sit," she takes you to the long white island and gestures to a tall velvet stool, "Loki didn't say if you were coming or not. I'm so happy you did."
She releases you and goes to the other counter, takes a scalloped plate and fills it with all sorts of food from platters. She brings it to you and watches you across the narrow island. "So, tomorrow, I must look at flowers. We have a healthy supply in the greenhouse but I think a few exotic breeds would do well. Then we will go to the bakery to arrange desserts and the like. Oh, the winery may need to wait until Sunday..."
She tallies off her to-dos as you nod along. Her own long list jumbles with your own in your head. You blink at her as she prattles on.
"Darling, please eat," she interrupts herself, "anyhow, as I was saying, perhaps we could make a special day of it. A day at the winery then the spa."
You nibble on the corner of the cucumber sandwich, grateful for the excuse not to respond. You doubt she'd hear you if you did. Your stomach roars in delight as you feed it, only then realising how hungry you truly are. You weren't very concerned with your appetite as the motion of the car roiled your stomach but now, you're ravenous.
Your mind wanders back to the long drive. You turn your gaze away, afraid Frigga might see your thoughts. The same sets in as the memory sinks in your brain. You can't believe you did that to him. While he was driving, too.
"Oh, goodness me, you must be so tired and hear I am blabbing your ear off," she clucks, "I forgot the tea... unless you prefer wine."
"Tea," you answer abruptly, recalling the last time you drank. You won't give Mr. Laufeyson any reason for distaste. "Thank you."
"Aw, so polite, dear," she preens, "are you excited for Walpurgisnacht?"
You twist your lips and swallow a mouthful, "um, sure... what is it?"
"My, I didn't even think," she pours a glass of deep red iced tea into a tall glass. She nears you again and places it by your plate. "May Eve. It's a celebration of Springtime, to embrace love and fertility."
"Mm, oh," you furrow your brow. That's odd.
"Yes, we will have many visitors to help us celebrate. And some games too. Mostly drinking and food, as is our way," she explains, "I can't believe this will be your first Walpurgisnacht! How delightful."
You nod and take another bite. It's almost nice how she assumes most things aren't a first for you. How she treats you like somehow you belong here.
"I didn't even think," she taps her manicured finger on the marble, "I should've invited your father. I know he's sick but it is always good to have family close."
You almost choke. You gulp and lower your eyes. You reach for the tea to wash away the sudden bitter taste on your tongue.
"Oh, I hope... I hope he is okay," she says.
"He's... he's fine," you sniff, "he's... mad at me. We aren't... we aren't speaking."
"How tragic," she touches her chest, "Loki didn't say a word. Well, then... dear, are you alright? Where are you staying?"
Your chest sinks. Of course, he wouldn't talk to her about you and explain everything that's gone rotten. You are still just the house manager to her.
"Mr. Laufeyson kindly offered--"
"Oh, I know, I know he would," she sounds ready to cry, "my son can be so caring. It's a pity he holds it in."
"Yeah, uh, it's very nice of him," you pick away a stip of crust.
"I didn't mean to bring up sour grapes," she says, "I'm sure everything will be alright. These things happen. Families fight but they always come back together. Gosh, if only you knew the state Loki left in last time. He and his father had such a row. Not to mention he wouldn't even speak with his own brother for well over a year. Stubborn."
You look at her in surprise. It's not that Laufeyson isn't cold and distant, it's just that you didn't expect all that information dumped on you. You want to ask why but know better than that.
"I only hope things go better this time," she says.
You nod and pick up a grape from the plate. You really hope so too. As long as you follow the rules, it should.
After you eat, Frigga takes you on a tour of the immense house. You don’t remember where most things are as you remain astonished by the grandeur. You can barely imagine spending the night. The thought that she lives here every day is astounding. She is the luckiest woman in the world.
She takes you up the wide staircase with its curved banisters and shows you the upper floor. You yawn behind your hand, caught as she peeks back at you. You drop your hand and smile, flicking your eyes as you try to seem more awake.
“Oh dear, are you tired?” She preens, “let us show you your room.”
“It’s okay–”
“Rest is important, and a part of Walpurgisnacht. It’s about renewal so you must take care,” she reproaches, “I made up a room just for you.”
“You did?” You murmur as she waves you ahead.
“Oh, yes, of course, like I said, I’ve been looking forward to this very much,” she chimes, “just here,” she opens the left side of a double door. You admire the patterns carved beneath the layer of champagne-tinted paint. “I believe the staff will have brought your bags already.”
“Um, thank you,” you smile nervously, “it’s all very wonderful…” You gaze around the room, “it’s too much.”
“Not at all,” she touches your arm gently, “I know my son can be a stickler, whoever knows where he got that from. You are here to enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks,” you rub your palms together, “for everything. It’s so nice.”
“Certainly dear,” she touches your cheek gently, “should you need anything, you can tap this button.” She points to a tiny silver button by the light switch, “Hilde will be around.”
“Hilde,” you nod, “okay. I think I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, you are so sweet,” she preens, “please don’t hesitate to ask for anything.” She squeezes your shoulder, “please make yourself at home.”
She leaves you with a gentle click of the door. You hesitate at the threshold, terrified of tainting the perfection of the room. There’s a four-postered bed, the sort you dreamed about as a girl, with a white frame and bedding in the same hue, trimmed in silver. The night tables have curled feet and a matching wardrobe stands against the wall. 
There’s a vase of flowers arranged on the vanity and a rug with dainty roses patterned on it beneath the foot of the bed. Each piece matches the next, gilded in silver, with a touch of colour here and there. The windows are tall and open, letting in the last of the morning hues. You are overwhelmed with the sheer beauty of this place.
Your luggage stands beside the bed. Just yours. Does that mean you’ll be sleeping alone? Perhaps that is for the better. It wouldn’t be seemly for Mr. Laufeyson to be commingling so closely with his house manager.
You should find him and let him know which room is yours. You go to the door and stop yourself. It feels wrong to go off roving through the house. No, you should stay and listen. You’re certain he wouldn’t be far from you. That only makes sense, doesn’t it?
You linger by the door, ear to the crack between the doors as you listen to the house. Nothing more than a distance scuff here or there. Not until you hear hinges catch for just a moment. You hold your breath and try to see between the doors but can’t.
Footsteps, long and deliberate. That has to be Laufeyson, right? You hope that it is. You wait for them to pass before you open the door and peek out. Oh no! It’s not Mr. Laufeyson.
Before you can retreat and hide, the gray-haired man stops. He has broad shoulders and his arms are bent behind him, one hand balled in another. You gulp and slowly pull back but it’s too late as the man pivots on his heel.
“I suppose my son told you it was best to avoid me,” the man says, his tone rigid but not unkind.
“Um,” you let go of the door and step up, slumping your shoulders as you stare at his suede slippers. “No, sir, I only… thought you were Mr. Laufeyson.”
“Mr. Laufeyson,” he scoffs, “you must be the one my wife spoke so highly of.”
“Sir,” you dip your head lower.
“Odin,” he offers as he comes closer, little by little, as if approaching a skittish deer, “father of Mr. Laufeyson,” he snorts and offers his hand, “and your name?”
You accept his hand meekly and mutter your name. He grips you firmly, warmly and gives a short shake. He keeps a hold of your hand and turns it, placing his other hand over your knuckles.
“Let me have a look at you,” he urges you into the hall, “my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be.”
You let him lead you further out. You bite your lip and exhale. You unpinch your teeth and lift your head. You look at him, squirming as he considers you. His steely hair is brushed back from his face and small coils gather behind his ears and neck. His eyes are blue and vibrant, like Thor’s, and his face is creased with and determination.
“Now,” he smiles, “how did my son capture a lovely creature like you?”
“Sir?”
“Please, Odin will do nicely,” he pats your hand, “may I use your name?”
“Yes, s– Yes, Odin,” you correct yourself.
“Wonderful, it’s a beautiful name,” he brings your hand up and kisses it, “it fits you well.”
He finally lets you go and you feel your cheek burn. You don’t know how to react. With everything you heard, you expected a horrible, grumpy old man. Someone like your own father. Yet, he’s just as pleasant as Frigga. 
“Thank you,” your lips curve just a little.
“Polite little thing,” he muses, “do you like chocolate?”
“Pardon?” You’re taken aback by his question.
“Chocolate,” he repeats, “Loki hasn’t much of a sweet tooth and the other one would devour them all. I’ve got some truffles, would you like one?”
“Well, I… er,” you rub your neck, “I wouldn’t want to bother,” you stammer.
“Bother? Why ever would I ask if it was?” He dismisses, “you are my guest, I do prefer to know those who are staying under my roof. I would be a shit guest otherwise.”
You scrunch your lips up at his profanity. He notices the wince and he chuckles, bring his fingertips to his chin, “excuse my language.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, “um, sure, I will have some chocolate… Odin.”
“Ah, wonderful, just this way,” he points you towards the other end of the hall, “this is part of the trap you see,” he says as he ushers you along, “I keep them in my office.”
He laughs and you join in thinly. You’re not sure he’s entirely kidding. He shows you into his office. The decor is wrought in gold and oak. It reminds you a little of Laufeyson’s study in the style, but not the colours.
“You will have your chocolate,” he assures as he closes the door, “but first, you will tell me how you ended up with that son of mine.” He strides around the desk as you hover across from him. He pulls out a drawer as you clasp your hands tight. You can’t tell him everything.
“How…” you utter.
“Yes,” he pulls out a square red box, “he hardly seems your type.”
“Oh, well, I am only his house manager,” you shrug.
“Sure, if that’s what he tells you to say, say it,” he tuts, “but it doesn’t mean I must believe it.”
You drop your head and frown. You’re a poor liar but you don’t dare tell the truth. He sighs and you peek up from under your lashes.
“Not to worry, I keep a promise,” he comes around and offers the open box of truffles, “this one is dark with raspberry, you might like it? Or this one, strawberry and cream,” he points to a dark bulb, then a white one sprinkled with pink sugar, “perhaps you will surprise me.”
You shyly reach for the box and pick out the plainest of the bunch. You thank him quietly and stare at the treat. He knows you’re lying and he’s still being kind. You wish you could tell him the truth, maybe he could help you understand it. Yet, the thought of saying it all out loud suffocates you in flames.
“Crushed toffee,” he says, “my favourite.”
“Oh, uh,” you hold it out.
“No, no, you have it,” he insists as he strolls back around his desk, “I am hardly interested in talking about my son, so let us not dwell on him. Tell me about you.”
“Me?” You blink.
“Yes. Do you read? Do you enjoy music? What are your favourites?”
You stand there, holding the truffle, speechless. You don’t know what to say. You are boring. No one ever cared about any of those things, so much so, that you never much thought of them yourself.
“Please, sit,” he takes his own advice and lowers himself into the leather chair, “enjoy your chocolate, then you may answer my questions.”
201 notes · View notes
lemmetreatya · 11 months
Note
BABES, DILF ONYANKOPAN PLS...
OHHHHHH OF COURSE!! ANYTHING FOR YOU SCHNOOKUMS!!
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content: very soft, suggestive tones
dilf!onyankopon is a loving father to his kids and a beautifully affectionate husband to you. hes such a family oriented man and genuinely finds pleasure in working hard to provide for his family. 
dilf!onyankopon whos sometimes away for long times because of his work as a pilot, but he’s always making an effort to make up for his time away. 
dilf!onyankopon who loves setting up anything from pools to trampolines to swings to slides for the kids. he doesnt consider himself a handy man but give him a set of instructions or a youtube video and he works it out just fine. he will also not think twice about joining in with them when they ask him to.
“daddy, come play with us!” 
the loud giggles of children have been ringing within the backyard all day but its now that his oldest daughter calls out to him that he’s suddenly alerted by the call. 
“want me to come and beat you guys again, huh?” he grins widely. not that he cared about participating much, but its you he turns and gives a look to. 
can I? his eyes silently ask and you can only roll your eyes before nodding your head in their direction with a thick smile. 
“just make sure nobody come to me crying bout a pulled back or bumped head.”
dilf!onyankopon who absolutely will not mind throwing down onto the bbq. will take every opportunity to call the boys and their families round for a grill up as soon as there’s even a GLIMPSE OF SUN. uses the “Ive got everything but ____” trick on his friends so that he can get away with them all bringing the extra items and him just supplying the meat 💀💀💀
dilf!onyankopon likes letting you have moderate reign over his money. he isnt too fussed about what you spend it on but best believe he demands to see specific things that you buy. not so he can keep tabs, but so he can see how good things look on you.  
Onyankopon (ICE): Show me. 
You: show you what?
Onyankopon (ICE): Don’t try play with me. 
Onyankopon (ICE): Whatever you got at the lingerie store. I want to see. 
You: HOW????
You: you cctv’ing me now?! 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨
Onyankopon (ICE): Bank notifications. 
Onyankopon (ICE): Now show me. I’m getting impatient. 
Onyankopon (ICE): Attachment 3
You: shiiiit???
Onyankopon (ICE): Exactly. So don’t keep me waiting. 
Onyankopon (ICE): Please. 
dilf!onyankopon whos a massive lover about the food you cook him. will never fail to compliment you on what you cook for him and is greatly appreciative of when you do. goes out his way to promote the kids to do the same
dilf!onyankopon who is absolutely infatuated with you regardless of your state — or his state, for that matter.
“how did i ever get so lucky with you?” 
the man continues to pepper kisses over your face. his main target is your lips but he seems to miss that spot occasionally. however, you’re careful not to push him away or act in opposition to his affection. drunk dilf!onyankopon a sappy man once upset. 
“baby, please go to sleep.” you whine once his mouth is off yours. 
“but i love you!” he says through a pout. “do you not love me too?”
“onyankopon, i love you too much to comprehend, but right now you’re wine drunk and need to go to sleep. you have work in the morning.” 
you place a hand lightly on his head and try lower him back down onto his own pillow but dilf!onyankopon makes a sound of resistance before springing upwards. 
“but im not tired! i have so much energy! with you by my side, i could conquer the world!”
“oh really?” you say with a raised eyebrow. “well, since you’ve got enough energy to conquer the world, you could start at home by mowing the lawn.”
as soon as you say those words, dilf!onyankopon suddenly plops his head onto the pillow, his cheek squished against it. 
“awe man, i feel so sleepy…” he fake yawns. 
896 notes · View notes
lilacsareinbloomagain · 6 months
Note
Yandere time and hyrule headcannons
I'm not sure if you've seen the hype around sky being in his undershirt and being ✨pretty✨ in the recent update, but could I please request reader fawning over Yan!sky in his undershirt or some general hc's for him?
Thank you both for requesting!
Notes: I wasn't that online on tumblr around that time, so I only saw it now lmao.
Anyway, I did both headcannons and a oneshot, hope you'll like it!
Also, yes, I merged those two requests since headcannons can be piled into the same post.
I'll probably sound redundant in a lot of these, simply because I didn't write this at one go and when I got to it again I may have forgotten that I wrote it before. My memory is not the best, forgive me.
There are more headcannons for Time because he's my favorite, sorry.
I need a master list, seriously.
Edited before sleeping, I'm sleepy and probably messed up one or two paragraphs of this.
The oneshot in question.
TWs: Yanderism, Mentions of food and bad eating habits and a little of my fairy/fae brain rot.
Don't mind grammatical errors, please!
Headcannons for yandere Sky, Time and Hyrule.
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Yandere! Lu! Sky x Reader
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For starters, Sky is sweet, but he is very manipulative.
Therefore, don't be surprised if you notice you stopped doing many of the things you used to do when you first got through the portal.
Most of the time it's not even bad things!
He might team up with Hyrule and Wild to take care of your main health, like eating habits. If you're a picky eater then expect Sky to slowly transition you into eating a little bit of everything, in no time you'll be eating like Wild does.
Then again, he'll also make sure to get the ingredients to the foods you do eat without struggling, also getting Wild to make a separate meal for you, should you not eat that one specific recipe Wild made for dinner.
You'll probably be getting help from him when it comes to self-care habits as well, like, the max of skin care and hair care you can get at Hyrule. He will make the effort to talk to people who know more about your skin and hair type, those who have it and take care of it well.
But, we can't ignore the genuinely bad things he will try to influence you into doing...
Privacy? Gone.
Not only will he be around you most if not all of the time, but he will also always be paying close attention to you and what you're doing.
So if you believed keeping a journal in your language would help you keep some things to yourself, then think again. The privacy of using your language instead of hyrulean to write in your jornal will soon turn into a mere illusion. Despite being more quiet and seemingly the less imposing of the Links, Sky has already gone, and will keep going through lengths for you, which includes learning the language you use.
Of course he noticed you kept a private journal, and despite you trying to lie about the contents of it, it's only a matter of time until he is skillfully scanning through the pages with his eyes like he's reading his favorite book. Memorizing any and all information he can find about you.
As manipulative as he is, he is also delusional, he doesn't have any idea of what he is doing, he simply doesn't know that what he is doing is wrong on so many levels.
He's not doing anything on purpose, he's just trying to protect you and get you to like him, like a normal guy!! At least, Zelda liked it when he did this with her back then, just how different are you two?
Genuinely, Sky would have a hard time figuring you and your emotions out. You're a human being after all, and he respects that those things are not supposed to be easy to figure out. In fact, he highly respects and appreciates that you're complex.
Not that he'll respect boundaries, nope, no way.
You're a puzzle he's very much looking forward to figuring out. Honestly, the only puzzle he'd ever want to figure out.
So, I'll probably elaborate this later, but the chain as Gods. Sky would be very much a Thor. That means silly blonde lightening man.
Imagine hylians from Sky's era used matching earrings alike engagement rings, like, Sky just randomly inviting you to an overly nice picnic, just to hand you blue earings just like his.
And if you don't have your ears pierced anywhere it'd be even better in his eyes, since he'd just adjust it to be a "normal" ring.
It was actually an engagement ring, but you didn't know that, or any of the other Links, really, since this tradicional custom got lost in time.
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Yandere! Lu! Time x Reader
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I think pretty much everyone knows Time is a teasing bastard.
Don't get me wrong, he can be pretty mature, but trust me, it's not really common for him to act like that.
Time is used to pretending, he used many different masks to become different races in his journey, that was needed from him at the time, the same way that being the mature one is being needed from him right now.
Just because he is deeply traumatized emotionally and physically from his job as a hero doesn't mean his personality is lost as well.
It didn't change that much since he was a child, not really.
He is addicted to making you flustered, so if you get flustered easily I'm sorry for you.
If making you blush is a challenge then I'm just as sorry for you, because Time isn't quite known for giving up easily.
And he's good at making people embarrassed, too.
The amount of women who were in love with him is everything I need as proof.
But the worst part? He doesn't have bad pick up lines.
Look, Time is a toucher, so yes, his love language is physical touch, that makes sense to me.
That doesn't mean only cuddling, of course, it can mean cuddling and hugging when you're alone, but do expect a few more things.
I was gonna say hand holding in public, especially in crowded places, but you know what? Guiding you by holding the back of your neck is simply easier to him, and a lot more obvious "back off!" to strangers who look at you for far too long.
Also, randomly leaning against you, the two of you may be just walking and suddenly you feel a large mass lightly leaning against your own body, almost making you stumble. you might just be standing in front of the dinner table, reading a recipe book and once again you just feel that familiar presence right behind you, but instead of hugging you from behind he's just there, like he is reading the book along with you.
Remember how you were reading that one recipe book? Well he might give it a try and help you make something in the kitchen just to spend time with you. Like, you're just pouring ingredients in a bowl and he's there "helping" you by wrapping his arm around your waist to give you "emotional support", as he calls it.
He is, in reality, just standing there watching you cook, trying his best to resist the urge to distract you and simply annoy you, because he is still trying to make it seem like he is a mature, grown man, and definitely not one who is eyeing the flour in his reach and thinking about launching a handful of it at you.
You did see his hand slowly reaching for the flour in the corner of your vision. He only stopped once you threatened to scoop out his remaining eye should even a speck of flour hit your face.
Yet, Time is a creative man, flour was only one of his plans.
He's got wandering hands and wandering lips. And he can and will make use of those just to distract you.
And that's how Time became banned from the kitchen when you were the one cooking, only being able to join you for cleaning later.
So yeah, his love language is physical touch, but it is also disturbance.
In that matter, he's not very different from Wind when you two are alone. If you ignore his flirtatious moves, that is. But he's quite different when you two are with the others, especially if you've done, or is doing something to annoy him, then he has to keep up that mature facade of his.
He believes the others won't take him seriously should he reveal his actual personality, so really, when you're around others you'll only get glimpses of it from time to time.
It is mandatory from the Links to be stubborn, but Time takes the cake.
Maybe it is his age, but he will never change his mind, ever. No point in arguing.
So when he is silly, he is silly, but when he is serious he is terrifying, no exaggeration.
The worst part is that older people have a lot of respect in Hyrule, so no matter what he says, his word is law.
Now, don't get me wrong, by now, pet names are just a thing Time always does with you, in a way you barely hear your own name coming from his lips unless he's being really serious about something.
But actual words of affirmation? Not his thing.
He'd much rather be as clingy as glue to you when you're alone.
But, not like Sky's soft, light cuddles. Time Will basically smother you.
Seriously, it may be his sheer muscle mass, but he'll drap himself over you in a way you'll feel yourself surrounded by him.
In fact, the first time he did it you probably almost suffocated.
You'll get used to it eventually, though. Hopefully.
He's pontual and very strict as well, he and Hyrule are probably gonna be bickering in most matters involving you, like, for example, "five more minutes" naps.
Don't even try to trick him, you'll hear stuff like "I was your age once" and shit, the man will act like he's a hundred years old or something.
Then again, he might be, after all, he is older in mind than he is in body.
He was forced to mature quicker and went through a lot of trauma, that, and he also had to go back in time a lot of times.
Now that I think about it, he probably lived for longer than your grandparents. Just saying.
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Yandere! Lu! Hyrule x Reader
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Don't get him wrong, Hyrule is very much full of love, really. He cares about everyone equally.
Yet, as corny as that is, your name isn't "everyone", you're not anyone, you're you, how could he even think about possibly treating you the same way as he treats everyone else?
You're put on a pedestal, everyone else is treated equally by him, except you, you are treated like you are divine and not mortal like he is.
So you'll feel like a toddler 24/7 around Hyrule, he is not as stubborn as Time, he's just… Persistent.
The other Links will find themselves teasing him for it a lot, even if deep inside they are just the same.
Play nice, walk on the line and you'll have a Hyrule at your beck and call. If you know how to do it right, you will be able to use his babying to your own benefit, because trust me, his persistence can work on the Links much more than yours, after all, they trust him for being another Link.
I feel like he'd also help you keep pets, it may be his fairy nature, but he is just good with animals, especially with forest animals. Be them small or big.
Although he definitely has a soft spot for smaller pets, even more if you're the one asking him to bring along a pet you found.
Surprisingly or not, Hyrule is probably one of the most protective Links if you happen to lean more towards the naive/vulnerable side of the spectrum.
It's a general fairy headcannon of mine, but since fairies take care of forest and the animals there, specially the smaller or more vulnerable types of animals, then it's not new for them to be also quite protective towards humans close to them.
Bonus points if they have those traits.
But then again, you're Hyrule's darling, you may be as strong and independent as a Link yourself, but he'll still see you as in need of his care and attention at all times.
That also may or may not be another reason why Hyrule treats you like a toddler.
So yeah, coddling. Lots of it.
Hyrule is also a fan of small things, trinkets. Natural or shiny... Precious or useless... In his eyes all are treasures.
Treasures you'll find your bags and pockets full of.
He is absolutely a rock, cristal guy.
Imagine, you're just walking to another village, and suddenly Hyrule stops walking for a few moments, just to speed walk towards you again just a bit later, cleaning something he is holding in his hands with the help of his sleeve.
Then he hands you a small, clear rock, grinning.
Better get used to this, it's probably gonna happen at least once every day.
So yeah, love language is gift giving and acts of service.
I feel like he's very awkward with words of affirmation, he didn't spend a lot of time saying or hearing those, after all. Like most of the Links.
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
umm what about!!! sirius or james comforting you when you get a haircut and don’t really like it at first. because I always hate fresh haircuts before I get used to it (especially when the hairdresser styles it weird lolzies)
haircut
summary — you hate your new haircut but sirius makes you feel better.
content — sirius black x fem!reader
note — this is unedited and so so i’m sorry baby
You're supposed to meet Sirius at the cafe around the corner. You really don't want to. You want to go home, find a hat maybe, maybe wash your hair for three hours until it magically all grows back.
You don't want to see your boyfriend awkwardly try to tell you your new haircut looks good, because you really hate it. It's way too short and weirdly cut around your ears. You think it might be uneven around your neck but you can't see it properly.
You reach the cafe and tug the hair down around your ears cruelly, and don't even realise you're crying. Tiny tears splash down your cheeks and curve into your mouth. You wipe them with the back of your hand and sniffle, steeling yourself before you see Sirius.
You find him, at a table in the corner with his pretty legs crossed and a mug to his lips. Reading something on his phone. You cross the cafe and hold your breath.
Your knees knock into the mosaic table and Sirius looks up. He stands quickly and he's already smiling. So wide you think it might hurt. "Oh my god," he says cheerfully. Your bottom lips juts out. "Baby, it looks so good!'
He reaches up to run his hands gently through your hair. He twirls a lock around his finger, eyes bright and wide. It feels funny because you really hate it. He's gotta be lying to save you. You turn your face to hide in his hand and he cups your cheek.
"You don't like it?" He's doubling down, startled to find your face a little wet under his palm. You shake your head in his hands and he coos. "Really?"
"No, look at it." You take your hair into your hands and tug at it gently, still, a tad peeved. He frowns.
"I am, honey," he laughs a little. "It looks good, I love it!"
"Don't lie to me."
"What?" He knocks your pouty lip with a bent knuckly gently. "I'm so serious with you right now. It looks amazing."
"The hairdresser must've been drunk." You're so sincere about it, Sirius almost laughs some more. He decides against it. "It's all choppy and crooked,"
"It's not," he says. "Would I lie to you?"
"Probably," you grumble.
He smooths his hands over your head and is smiling so genuinely you think you might feel a little bit better. You're not sure if you despise him for how he makes you feel, because you truly don't like your haircut, but he's looking at it so softly, like he's never liked something more in his life.
His eyes glimmer and his mouth twitches. "Lovely." He's speaking so softly that he's hard to be heard over the cafe. There are no more than five people in here. "It looks amazing. I promise. God," he's doubling down to save himself, lest he look like a total sap right here and now, "you look so pretty." He swallows.
"Do you really mean that?" It's a silly question, really. Sirius is a really good liar but you don't think he'd ever lie to you about this. He hates to see you upset but he'd rather be truthful.
"Of course," he says, hands finding their place on your shoulders. "Really. It suits you so well."
You probably should believe him. You've no reason not to.
You sit down in the seat in front of him in case you do something stupid like hug him in the middle of the cafe until your legs are sore. Sirius seems mildly put out. He sits down with you and doesn't waste time grabbing your hand.
"I'm sorry," you mumble. You use your free hand to take his mug and hold it to your lips. "Am I being stupid?" you ask before you take a sip.
He takes the mug back when you give it to him, quick to speak. "No, it's okay. It might just need to be styled differently. You know what you like."
"Yeah," you hum.
There's a silence where Sirius can tell you're thinking about your hair still. "You want me to order you a muffin?"
You smile and Sirius feels a little better. "And a chai latte?"
"Of course."
Sirius starts chatting away and you forget about you hair almost immediately.
416 notes · View notes
Note
AITA for using my moms money to buy games?
The title sounds bad, but I'm not sure how else to word it. This is also going to be a weird one as, in advance, I know the other party isn't an asshole, however I think it's a similar situation im tone and I really need some feedback on this.
I'm 22 and live with my mom and cat. I've lived with her my whole life, and continue to due to disability. My mom has 2 jobs that she mainly works on weekends, and I'm unemployed. Ever since covid it's been incredibly difficult for me to find work because it is still very much a thing despite what people want to believe, and I can't be in contact with random people physically due to immune issues and the chance of getting sick. Online jobs are apparently very hard to find (my mom has tried) and many ask for a payment beforehand. I do however get social security income that pays most of our bills/utilities, and we're also on foodstamps for groceries.
My family has never been well off. I wouldn't call us dirt poor, we've never had to go hungry, and I always had toys to play with/clothes as a kid. But my mom has had to manage funds well and we've never had a lot of money for leisure or frivolous purchases. My mom will buy herself things like some new clothes, a phone charger, roku set, etc smaller things like that when she gets her paycheck but extra expenses such as furniture have to be planned out probably weeks/months ahead of time. We also moved recently and ever since then our budget has been more difficult, the down payment really screwed with my moms expenses.
Because of our situation, I never really had games growing up. I remember we had maybe 3 big family consoles during me and my sisters whole childhood (with like 3-6 games on them each, most of which were guitar hero which my mom and sister loved to play), and I would get a new handheld for myself every few years. I never got to play the new exciting games people were always talking about, and my gaming experience has really been limited to like. Animal crossing, the sims, and cooking mama.
I played a bunch of roms as a kid so that helped, but I was always kinda sad and felt left out that I never got to experience gaming the way other people did. I really wanted to try the "classics" people talked about but didn't have any way to. People (especially as I got into my 20s and started following streamers + nintendo direct for example) would always talk about the New Thing coming out and playing it the day it dropped, all the excitement and community people had around that, but if I really wanted that kind of game, I'd have to wait a few years before getting it and trying it out, and by then no one was playing it anymore anyways.
As time went on things got a little better. Especially because of my moms new jobs, both of which she genuinely loves doing, though it's still work, we have been a bit better off. It's only been recently we started struggling more again.
Recently I've been kind of asking for things from my mom. Mostly it's steam games. I found I've gotten much more into gaming as a hobby as I've gotten older, and I have a long wishlist of games that I really want to get into, but of course have no money to myself. I should also clarify that NONE of these are those big triple A $60 titles, as I still can't ever justify paying something so expensive for one game. So sometimes lately I've been asking my mom "hey, can I get this/these games?" And use her money/card to purchase them. I don't do it constantly, or even super often, but I feel like it's becoming more often and it makes me feel really guilty.
I have done this before, around high school I started asking my mom for certain things I wanted around the house, and usually she had no problem buying them for me. This also wasn't large stuff, nothing ever over $30 and usually only up to $20. But when I'd find something I *really* wanted, especially if it was a time limited thing like merch drops from a favorite content creator, often yarn for my knitting or art supplies I wanted to try, I would ask her.
I've pretty much always felt guilty about this. I would ask for something despite my better judgement, and for the most part my mom would say yes, and that it was okay, whereas I was the one apologizing and asking if it was "really alright". She has told me she has no issues buying things for me as long as I ask her. She says the social security I get is "technichally my money", and that she wants me to be able to use it. (Obviously we don't use the actual ssi to buy random shit, but her giving me spending money is the next best thing).
Every time I've asked my mom for something like this, I've told myself that it would be the last time, that I would get my own job and own money and not mooch on my mom anymore, but both with the stress of chronic illness and depression I never seem to get around to it. I try to do dishes and keep my room clean, take care of the cat etc as ways I can help without working, but for some reason the money really weighs on me. I know that it's really my fault, I haven't even been looking for jobs and I could always take art commissions again, but somehow a mental block always stops me.
I feel like I have a bit of an impulsivity problem when it comes to spending. The money I got from my one summer job and commissions would never last long, and honestly I couldn't even tell you what I spent it on for the weeks I had it. I have issues taking money from people, but when I realized that I may not have had the stuff I wanted as a kid simply because I never asked for/communicated that I wanted it, it made me more bold to actually ask my mom for things.
I never pester my mother about this. I'll ask once and if she says no I'll be dissapointed but won't continue. Sometimes she says that we don't have the money for it then, or that I'll have to wait until xyz thing is paid for, which is always fine. I also have *never* bought anything with her money without asking first. I get pretty much all the steam games I buy on sale (usually that's what prompts me to ask about them, actually) as personally I can't justify getting games for their asking price for the experience I'm going to get.
I feel bad as I feel like I'm wasting our money, mooching off my mom and not putting in the work to have spending money myself. I also worry that sometimes when she says it's fine, it's untrue and she's really just trying to make me feel better. I also sometimes don't play the games as soon as I get them, I have a sizeable backlog of games I have gotten but haven't "got around" to playing as I was excited to get them at a low price at the time, but then haven't felt like I'm in the right mood. This also makes me feel worse because I feel like I'm not being appreciative enough of her buying for me.
So am I the asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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reasonsforhope · 6 months
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Do you have a tag specifically for stuff about the climate crisis/what is being done/can be done to help stop or reverse its effects?
Basically just read a post that was "I'm not trying to be alarmist but- *spends seven paragraphs about how climate change is inevitable, we will never possibly recover from it, it's not global warming anymore its global "boiling", none of the damage can ever be undone and we're all going to be dead in the next five generations*" and I'm trying.. very hard not to spiral from it.
Sorry for bothering you 🙏
The "climate crisis" "climate change" and "climate hope" tags should do the trick.
Of those, "climate change" is the one that has the most content by far, just because the others are more narrow and "climate hope" is a much more recent term, so to speak, because I keep forgetting about it lol
I don't post anything that's not good news, so you can go through the general "climate change" tag without fear
Also, while I'm at it, that person is wrong. For a lot of reasons, including that we're actively fixing a lot of damage to ecosystems literally right now. And also also, GLOBAL WARMING WILL BE AT LEAST SOMEWHAT REVERSIBLE
Why? Well, the rise in average global temperatures is caused by excess carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. As we keep fixing the planet, restoring ecosystems, and stop burning fossil fuels, nature will siphon more and more of the carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere.
And if there's less carbon dioxide (and other greenhouse gasses) in the atmosphere, then more heat can once again escape the planet and radiate out into space
Will this be easy? Probably not! This planet's natural systems are incomprehensibly complicated - but that also means there are solutions out there that we haven't even discovered. There are some additional problems to overcome, like the fact that the oceans will be surfacing excess heat for a few decades after we stop CO2 emissions, and also "natural gas" and "carbon capture" are fake solutions/oil company traps.
But we can do it. I so, so, so sincerely believe that.
One term that I think we'll be seeing more and more of in the coming years is "Drawdown": "Climate drawdown refers to the future point in time when levels of greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere stop climbing and start to steadily decline.[1] Drawdown is a milestone in reversing climate change and eventually reducing global average temperatures." (from wikipedia)
We can achieve drawdown. Will life in the future look very different? Yes, in both good and bad ways.
Climate change is the earth's "feedback" to humanity: "Fix your shit or die."
People are, in general, really, really, really committed to finding ways not to die.
I genuinely believe the rest of us can overcome the few dozen billionaires trying to screw the rest of us over. Money is powerful, but the remaining 7 billion plus people on this planet are more so. And the fortunes of billlionaires are made off the backs of the rest of us - which means we can make those fortunes run dry.
Sources for this answer (warning, these talk about the negative side of things a lot too, they're not the uplifting reads themselves. that's next): x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x
Other sources to read for hope: FutureCrunch, Project Drawdown and Project Regeneration good news websites in general such as Positive News and Goodgoodgood, which I think are the best content fits for what you're looking for. Make sure to check out Goodgoodgood's roundups specifically. And know that there are way, way more good news stories - and way bigger ones, too - than I've had time to post about lately, because work has been really hectic
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