#it just happened a little TOO much for it not to be intentional

[seelestia]

✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).

⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )

#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }

#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.

#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡

© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.

you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.

and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?

(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)

but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.

(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.

time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?

time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

ticklish.

the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.

there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.

“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.

there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.

“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.

“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”

his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.

you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!

every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.

“mwah, mwah, mwah—”

“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”

(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)

will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.

(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)

the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.

if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.

(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)

veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.

mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”

at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.

looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?

✧ a moment among the stars:

“...yet another headache.”

as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.

you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.

a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.

(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)

veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”

oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.

you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.

“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.

“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.

(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)

“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.

“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”

“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”

(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)

“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”

“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.

“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.

(your heart skips a beat.)

will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.

how mysterious.

but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?

your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.

pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.

(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)

the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.

fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.

(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)

if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.

as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?

(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”

sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.

“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”

you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.

he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”

or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.

(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)

“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”

“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.

most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.

“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”

you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?

(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)

will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?

after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?

but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.

(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)

dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”

(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)

sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.

(it remains persistently.)

when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.

when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.

(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.

but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”

you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”

he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.

“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.

“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.

“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.

dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.

“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.

(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)

“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”

“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.

“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.

(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #sunday x reader #sunday x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #hsr fluff #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #seelestial.inks

[zephyrchama]

(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again

---01

It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.

Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.

Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.

---02

Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.

He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.

He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.

---03

Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.

He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”

You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.

Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.

---04

Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.

“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”

You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.

---05

Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.

When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.

As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.

---06

Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.

One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.

It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.

---07

It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.

The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.

Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”

Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.

#mc in satan's part is thinking about something weird like “friendpilled visitmaxxer” while satan's undergoing his own mental renaissance #i came up with ideas for all the side characters too. that sounded cute. maybe i'll write it. I didn't because... #i have a bad cold! achoo! should've written this in past tense for my sanity but my head is all blehh. i hope this stuff makes sense. woooo #you know it's a bad cold when i write in [shivers] /present tense/ (jk but it's difficult for me to keep the tense consistent) #note to self: tumblr's html color designation for yellow is phoebe #colds suck. i wear a mask daily and still got really sick so take care y'all. #obey me! #obey me #obey me brothers #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me fluff

[pan-de-seungcheol]

◇Wrong Place, Wrong Time◇

you love your boyfriend more than anything. Jeonghan is the light of your life, the wind under your wings, your protector and lover. you just wish he wasnt so damn annoying.

warnings: fake jealousy, jeonghan is annoying af, reader is so so tired of him, piv penetration, lovey vanilla missionary sex

word count: maybe like 1k? idk and im too lazy to find out

something light for yall while i finish that damn series ive been putting off for actual months (sorry) U•ェ•*U

your eyes rolled into the back of your head as jeonghan's long cock dragged against your plush walls, the familiar feeling of his curved member stroking against the deepest parts of you.

your breathing was ragged, each deep thrust causing you to gasp against the shell of his ear. jeonghan was going slow tonight, intent on enjoying the way your cunt seemed to never want to let him go, sucking him back in each time he tried to pull out.

jeonghan knew you like the back of his hand. mind, body, and soul he knew you. so when your cunt squeezed him hard he knew you were about to cum.

your boyfriend stilled his hips and pulled away from you, causing you to whine in protest, your hands gripping his broad shoulders in an attempt to pull his body closer to yours.

he knew how much you liked being against him while riding out your orgasm, so why was he pulling away now?

you couldnt help the pout that crossed your lips, "Hannieee, please" you whined "come back"

jeonghan smirked down at you, clearly enjoying watching you try to wiggle your hips in an attempt to feel the friction of him inside you again.

"hmmm i dunno baby, im not sure you deserve to cum tonight" he feigned a contemplative look.

you couldnt believe he was doing this. he had the audacity to pretend to be considering your right to an orgasm all while his dick was still pressed firmly against your cervix, kissing the deepest part of you. the absolute nerve of him to stare down at you with those beautiful, deep brown eyes, his long black hair falling delicately against the curve of his cheeks.

"hannie what-why-" god the way he was looking at you was so distracting you could barely form a sentence. his smirk grew into a full on smile at your helplessness.

jeonghan began slowly rocking his hips back into you, pulling so far out his tip caught on your entrance only to push back into you.

"dunno angel, you seemed pretty enamored with seokmin tonight. maybe you should ask him to make you cum instead."

ahh so thats what this was about.

you and jeonghan trusted eachother completely, there was no doubt about that. however, jeonghan liked to stir the pot every now and then with teasing remarks about your past crush on one of his closest friends. nevermind the fact that he was sure to swoop you off your feet before seokmin even had a chance to realize you had been interested at one point. and nevermind the fact that after your first date you and he both knew you were whipped for him.

no, jeonghan liked to feign jealousy every now and then, just to make you pay for even considering another man before he came along. unfortunately for you seokmin had spent the duration of joshua's party earlier making you laugh with his ridiculous jokes.

usually you found it endearing, but now? in the throws of passionate love-making??

"jeonghan please" you groaned

he threw a mock pout at you "now youre even calling me by my full name? what happened to hannie, baby? you must really wanna leave me for him"

his hips picked up speed slightly, his cock driving into you with a little more force than before.

jeonghan knew youd never leave him, he wouldnt let you anyways, but just the thought of it had his mind clouded with the need to claim you.

you moaned at the new pace he set, the fire retuning to your core hotter than before.

"hanniee~"

fuck, you looked so beautiful underneath him. jeonghan's eyes wandered your body. each curve and stretchmark evidence that you were real. you were real and you were his. his eyes locked onto where the two of you connected, the sight of his cock being forced into your tight cunt made his chest tighten up.

"fuck angel, so pretty like this. taking all of me. does hannie's cock feel good baby?"

he lowered himself back down to you, the scent of him engulfing your senses as his arms caged you in. you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss before resting your forehead against his.

"so good hannie. my hannie" you babbled random words as they came to you. whimpers of yes baby and feel so good in me leaving your lips as jeonghan thrusted into your pulsing heat.

"all yours baby, and youre all mine. say it angel."

"all yours hannie"

jeonghan stilled in you, the sound of you so willingly obeying him, telling him exactly what he wanted to hear took over his composure, causing him to pump you full of his cum.

the feeling of his load sticking to your walls mixed with the spasming of his hips fucking into you, riding out his high, had you cumming around him.

the two of you were a mess of moans and sighs as your highs crashed around you. jeonghan's full body weight pressed against your skin, the way he idly traced shapes onto your shoulder, and the scent of fresh sweat all proof of the love you two shared.

lost in thought you didnt hear him talking above you, and jeonghan lifted off of you slightly to repeat himself.

"y/n i asked you something" your boyfriend pouted above you.

"hm?"

"i said did i make you feel better than seokmin wouldve?"

moment ruined.

"jeonghan." you deadpanned

"I knew it! there you go using my full name again, are you really gonna leave-"

you shut him up with a soft kiss to his lips. if there was one thing jeonghan was it was annoying, but at least it would be you he annoyed forever.

[author's note]

i took my last final and immediately started writing this. was this semester hell for anyone else? i literally had statistics and a&p 2 this semester and there were so many times i wanted to actually die cause i thought i was a failure...all that just to get two A's and a B.

#seventeen #svt #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen jeonghan #svt jeonghan #jeonghan smut #svt jeonghan smut #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen jeonghan smut #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan bf #yoon jeonghan #svt x reader #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan fanfic #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan fluff #boyfriend jeonghan #yoon jeonghan fluff

[bump1nthen1ght]

Across a Crowded Room (GN!Reader x M!Goblin)

Pairing: Flirty!GN!Reader x Male!Knight!Goblin

Genre: High Fantasy, Flirting, Sexual Tension

Word Count: 2576 words

Summary: You had entered the tavern with innocent intentions; to dance, to drink, and maybe take someone home, if they were interesting enough. But a certain goblin knight catches your eye, and you’re just dying to see him blush.

Request: Can I ask for your goblin knight x flirty reader? I want to see my boy blushing

If you want to read more about the goblin knight, check out here (SFW Headcanons) and here! (NSFW Headcanons)

No one throws better parties than knights, especially knights just fresh from a victory.

The clamering group came into your town just this afternoon, blood-soaked and smiling, shouting about free rounds at the local tavern. For a boring town just a couple miles from a well protected capital city, it was the most exciting thing to happen in months. Naturally, anyone and everyone who loves some good fun and alcohol was quick to congregate. 

Including yourself.

The tavern is packed, sweaty bodies and beer all clashing together as people dance and drink, the band playing to rapturous applause and intoxicated cheers. Soldiers have stripped most of their armor, surrounded by groups of desperate hangers-ons, here for the fascinating tales or to catch the eye of a handsome knight.

You’re more interested in the free alcohol and the music, but you can’t deny that these soldiers are good-looking. Would it be bad to have those calloused hands pushing up your shirt, salty lips sucking on your neck, all pent up and ravenous from weeks on the road?  

Damn, maybe you’ve had enough to drink.

You drop off your half-empty ale and pick up a fresh cup of water instead, thankful for the magical ice chest the tavern owner had just purchased/stolen off a drunken wizard. Your cheeks are still hot, but any dizzying fog fades quickly from your mind. Your eyes wander around the dance floor, wondering if anyones sober enough to be a good dance partner, or if it’s time to call it a night. Everyone seems to be partnered up already, and you think you’ll be walking home alone in the dark, when-

Bingo.

There in a corner booth, surprisingly free of drunken party-goers, sits a goblin knight in gleaming armor. His bulkier pauldrons have been removed, but his chest plate remains shiny and in place. He sips on something bubbly, something light and clearly not the hearty ale everyone else is indulging in. Yellow eyes survey the dance floor with a clear mind, a reserved smile on his face. 

Welp, guess I can stay another hour or so.

You slink between dancing and flailing bodies, trying not to seem too eager as you make your way to the lonely knight’s table. He only glances up once you sit down in his booth, giving you a polite smile, probably thinking you just need to rest your feet. 

Now that you’re up close you can see just how handsome he is. With that sharp jaw and slicked back hair, you’re surprised he isn’t fighting off propositioners with a stick.

“Hey there.”

“Hello.” The goblin gives you a nod, taking another sip of his prosecco. His eyes go back to the dance floor, still calm and casual. You slide across the booth seat, closer yet not to close, still trying to gauge interest.

“Not much of a dancer?”

The knight seems a little shocked you’re still talking to him, stopped half-way through another sip. He sets it down.

“I enjoy it, though I have less experience in this sort of dancing.” He waves his hand generally to the crowd, which are less dancing and more bouncing. The tavern is too crowded for any proper dances, so most people divulged into a mixture of shimmying and skirt tossing, often grinding someone to slide up next to and go back and forth. “Plus, my men are having a lot of fun already, it seems someone should stay behind and be responsible.”

“You’re the captain?” You slide another inch over. “That’s a hefty title, lots of hard work, sounds like you deserve most to let loose and relax a little.” You’re even more shocked now that he’s all by his lonesome; the captain is the one with most of the glory and prestige, someone you’d be proud to be on the arm of, even for just a night. The knight just laughs, gesturing to his drink.

“I appreciate it, but the wine has proven to be good company. Besides, I was never one to find getting into a drunken stupor to be very relaxing. A little too much vomit for my taste.” The knight runs a clawed hair through his slicked back hair, tucking back any loose strands. It shows off the strong muscles of his neck, just hidden behind his armor. You take an intake of breath.

“I see, I see. Are they any other ways you like to relax?” You finally close the gap between, the fabric of your pants legs touching his own, and throw your arm over the back of the booth. His tail twitches and his eyes glance down to your chest, clavicle exposed by your loose tunic. But this knight is a gentleman, and is quick to meet your eyes.

“I garden. Nothing too exciting, just some vegetables.”

“Really?” The curiosity in your voice is genuine, not the kind you force to keep the conversation alive. “I do too, mostly windowsill flowers, and the occasional herb and succulent. Though those tend to die on me, though. I’m not as familiar with desert plants.”

The knight's brow furrows thoughtfully, a thumb to his chin.

“How often do you water the succulents?”

“Uhm, maybe every 3 days.”

“Ah, that’s the issue.” The knight has locked in, turning his chest toward you. You become aware of how close your hand is to his leg, or his shoulder to your shoulder. “Succulents are small, but hardy. They only need water every week or so, some even less.”

“Oh, I never realized. I must have been drowning the poor things!”

“It's a common mistake, I made it myself the first time. Now they’re one of my favorites. Small but mighty.”

Much like yourself, Mr. Captain.

The stirring in your stomach is familiar, your heartbeat just a little bit faster. Handsome, polite, and knowledgeable without being condescending. Where has this goblin been hiding?

Well if no ones gonna snatch him up…I better do it myself.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask your name. How rude of me.” You scoot on more, fully breaking the normal boundaries. You hold out your hand. “I’m ____.”

The knight looks at your hand, then looks at you. You think you catch a hint of a blush at the tips of his ears, right before he grabs your hand and presses a kiss onto your knuckles.

“Leon, my dear. A pleasure to meet you.”

His smile is infectious, one curling up at your lips.

Oh, I see.

“Should I call you captain? Seems only right with such an honorable position.” Your hand rests on his armored knee. There's two solid layers between you, but you can still feel him twitch at the touch.

“No need, I get enough of that from my men. Just Leon.”

“Ok, just Leon. Gardening’s a yes, dancing’s a no, what other things do you do for fun?” 

“Training, mostly. Not very exciting, but I personally enjoy the rigor and discipline of my work.”

“I disagree, good sir. I’ve seen knights train before, it is far from boring. In fact, me and my siblings used to make trips to the capital just to see them spar.” You chuckle, the old memory of betting on the good-looking knights resurfacing. Your teenage years were voracious. “Seeing them move so gracefully, so powerfully, with all that heavy armor and weaponry. It was enthralling. And if I’m being honest….” The hand on Leon’s knee moves upwards. Leon’s throat bobs, “...very attractive.” Your hand changes its course and moves to the outside of his thigh, tracing the empty sheath still tied to his waist. Leon exhales heavily out of his nose, his tail flicking by his side. “What weapon do you prefer most, captain?”

“Ah, my rapier.” Leon's voice only catches a bit, well-practiced dn maintaining his composure. If only that cute blush didn’t give him away. “Light, quick, and efficient. I am also proficient in a short sword, but I always find myself going back to the rapier.”

“Hmm good to know, I’m sure to become Captain you must have studied quite rigorously. I would love to see you spar one day, Leon.”

A tint of pride curls up the side of Leon’s lips into a smirk, his shoulders raising. He had been so bashful, but it seemed this was a skill he was comfortable bragging about.

“Well…” Leon looks at his men, all still drunk but most of them having found a suitable partner, a place to sit, or a bucket to throw up in. “I could show you right now.”

You sure your eyes are sparkling, your voice almost  a squeal.

“Yes please.”

—

And that’s how you find yourself outside, away from the warm fire and flowing alcohol, goosebumps all over as you watch  Leon demonstrate. He had procured his rapier from the tavern keeper, who had shown you a nice area outside with the proper amount of room. It was hard to say no to the Captain, after all.

“First you bow to your opponent. Respect is paramount to a proper duel.” Leon zips his feet together, bowing at a perfect angle, hand not even on hilt. “When it’s called, you may draw your weapon and ready yourself.” The gleaming metal shings as it’s pulled out from Leon’s sheath, his forearm muscle flexing with the smooth movement. He holds the weapon out and forward with only one hand, stepping his non-dominant foot backward. Yet Leon keeps his weight centered, his front toe ready to jab at any moment. “This is my preferred stance, as it allows me to be quick and fluid. Once the the match has started, I can make my first strike.” Leon is just as quick as one would expect, shoulder bursting forward to throw the sharp end of the rapier into his imaginary opponent's chest. “If I am blocked, I can easily move back and adjust.” He bounces on the balls of his feet as he scoots back. “I survey their next move, and then I may strike again-” Leon jabs forward, “-or parry a blow-'' Leon swipes his rapier diagonally, the force blowing a breeze across your face, “-or even block, and strike again.” Leon turns his blade, muscles holding steady as if real weight was applied, before he easily swipes his blade again. “If I hit, that is the end of the duel. As in real life, it only take one blow to slay you.” Leon flicks his blade in his hand, adjusting it to slide back into his sheath just as smoothly as before. He turns and gives a gracious bow, waving his hand to his single person audience.

You clap furiously, cheeks flushed from both the cold and your excitement. Seeing a person of such skill perform was always a thrill.

And very, very sexy.

You stand up from your seat, mimicking the excited whoops of a crowd. Leon plays into it, putting his hand on his chest in a faux-sense of embarrassment.

“And of course, always check on your opponent, and give a good handshake.”

Leon shakes his imagined fighter's hands, even mouthing words of “good fight, good fight.”

A strand of Leon's hair has come loose from his slicked-back style, hanging down in a curl against hsu forward. His cheeks are also flushed and his gloved hand goes to rub the back of his neck. You watch the bones crack as he stretches, the muscles flexing. 

Oh my gods, thank you for this sight.

“So, how about we-”

You’re rudely interrupted by a stool being thrown out a window, a mixture of excited gasps and the angry yells of a barkeep about paying for that echoing across the lot. Leon is next to you in a moment, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. He only comes up to your waist, yet you’ve never felt more shielded.

“ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY OUT, NOW!”

Drunken patrons and knights spill out of the front, you and Leon forgotten out in the back area. No one seems harmed, mostly embarrassed and/or delirious. Probably a prank gone wrong.

“Seems that ale was much stronger than it tasted.” You murmur.

“Quite. So was whoever threw that stool.”

You guffaw, shocked once again by this Captain’s sense of humor.

“Well, if the tavern is closed, let me walk you back to your abode. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.” Leon looks up aht stars, the moon high in the night sky.

“Uh, wouldn’t you like to check on your men?”

“They’re big boys, they can handle themselves. I would much prefer making sure you get home safe.”

Leon holds out his elbow for you to take. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you eagerly take it.

—

“I must thank you for your time tonight.” Leon pants, pushing back strands of loose hair behind his ears. “I was quite ready to spend the night with only my drink, left with my thoughts in that corner booth. But it has been a delight speaking with you. ”

“It was my pleasure, Captain. It’s easy to make fun when with such interesting company.” You nudge his shoulder with your hip, giving him another wink.

  Leon chuckles, a tinge of dark green colors at the tips of Leon’s ears.

“I could say the same.”

There’s a lingering something in the air as you two walk side by side, the brisk night air against your sweaty skin. Your eyes can’t help but wander over his exposed shoulder and neck, see the way his tail flicks back and forth in a slow pattern. The space between your paths slowly close, your clothes and his armor only breathes apart by the time you reach your doorway

“So,” Your hand brushes across Leon’s shoulder, goosebumps pebbling the back of his neck, “...would you like to come in?” You gesture with your head, a wry smirk curling up your lips.

For once, the captain seems lost for words, something almost caught in his throat. His gaze dances across your exposed shoulders, shooting hack up in an instant. Your index finger tucks another stray hair behind his ear, an almost imperceptible shiver running down his spine. You can hear your blood pumping in your ears.

A gentle, gloved hand daintily grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his shoulder with a polite smile. Your stomach sinks a bit, but you try not to let it show.

“Best if not.” Leon’s thumb rubs across your pulse before gently setting it down to your side. It’s a polite rejection, but you can't help feeling slightly embarrassed for reading him incorrectly, words knotting up in your stomach. So you nod, placing your hand into your pants pocket, hoping he doesn’t see it shake. 

Idiot, Idiot, Idiot-

“Of course, Captain. Have a good night.” 

You turn to your doorway, trying not to let the disappointment hit too hard.

“There’s a market tomorrow morning, in the grove. I’ve heard they’re supposed to have the most beautiful plants on display from all across the kingdom.” Leon worries the bottom of his tunic in his hands. “Would you like to join me?”

A childlike giddiness fills your stomach, how lighter than ever. You don’t hide your smile.

“I would love to.” You linger in your doorway, feet kicking as a blush heats up your cheeks. “Meet me here at 9?”

Leon’s canines gleam in the lamplight, his lips curling as he drops into the bow.

“It’d be my honor.”

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #gender neutral reader #goblin #goblin x reader

[spatialwave]

“𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵”

pairing: the ghoul x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: after two weeks of traversing the wasteland with cooper on the search for a common enemy, you found yourself needing some… relief. it just so happened that you weren’t alone in the sentiment.

warnings: mdni! smut, choking, praising, cooper likes complimenting you while he fucks you. 🖤

notes: continuation of this post!

travelling with cooper started as a forced necessity, one that you hadn’t been able to make an executive decision on, but the feeling of that rope around your neck had been long forgotten as you both careened through the wasteland together. cooper had proved his loyalty to you, a surprising feat that you had never imagined being possible. if there was even an ounce of kindness or empathy within that man, it was invisible to the naked eye. he did a damn good job at hiding any and all outward emotion, reeking of wit, sarcasm and cockiness.

yet, you had been gifted with seeing another side of the ghoul, a side which made you wonder what sort of feelings he harbored for you. it was a tricky thought and easy to get lost in it, especially as you wandered behind him and were given ample time to just… stare.

each night you were greeted with his hands in your hair, gloveless fingers pulling through the strands and sometimes tickling against your cheek until you fell asleep. his lap had become your pillow, and his jacket was your bed and blanket.

neither of you spoke about it, most mornings waking up as though your nightly intimacy had never happened. you were thankful for it because you had no idea how to even comprehend how you felt for cooper.

love was too soon. infatuation was too strong.

you respected him. you cared for him. you appreciated the way he protected you.

you yearned for his touch.

each day as the hot sun burned your skin, you watched him from behind and imagined things about him. it started off as daydreaming about his fingers in your hair, rubbing along your scalp and how you couldn’t wait for night to come. soon, though, these thoughts drifted when you were greeted with a deep, familiar coiling in your stomach that came when you had spent enough time away from self pleasure.

guilt gnawed away when you found yourself dreaming about him in ways that made you squeeze your thighs. what would his lips feel like against yours? what sounds would come from his lips as he fucked you senselessly?

you rarely got far with your thoughts before you had to ask for a sip of water and a short rest, avoiding his groans of disapproval for slowing you both down.

cooper felt the same way, but the guilt riddled him far more than you could ever imagine. he had lived far longer in this world than you, he became a changed man—was once a loving father and husband who was betrayed and transformed into nothing but a merciless, murderous bounty hunter.

he knew better than to think of you in any way other than just a partnered traveler of the wasteland. war may have changed him, but there were morals that belonged to the old cooper howard that would remain forever.

you were so much younger than he was, an innocent little thing that had come to the surface after spending your whole life in a vault, all because you were so intent on saving a life and finding the truth. you had so much kindness and curiosity in your heart, once comparable to him when he was nothing more than a star for the masses. nothing good would come from him taking that innocence away from you, especially after what you’d experienced only a week prior at the hands of the man who wanted you in exchange for caps.

at night, his mind was pure filth when he thought about you as his fingers ran along your scalp, eyes watching the way your chest moved up and down. how your lips parted when gentle snores would escape.

you woke up alone most times, unaware that the reasoning was because cooper had to excuse himself in the early morning hours—a bit of relief.

you weren’t so lucky because he never left you alone.

“cooper,” you whined, smacking your lips audibly so he heard you from a few paces behind, “can we rest? i need water, and maybe something to eat.”

boots stopped in the sand as you two ventured closer to the mojave, foliage becoming distant as the hot sun and dry air took over. after some investigating, the ghoul had found some intel on the whereabouts of another peculiar vault dweller, presumably your father, who had made way for new vegas. the travels had become difficult now as civilization was few and far between, and you still hadn’t been given any alone time that you desperately needed.

cooper glanced over his shoulder at you, quirking a hairless brow curiously, “and how do you think we’re going make it through the desert if we’re stoppin’ every mile, sweetheart?” the nickname rolled off his tongue easily, but he hadn’t meant it so sweetly.

“i like you better at night,” you huffed at him as you trudged forward, walking past him and taking the lead, “you’re much nicer then.”

you could hear the sigh as heavy steps came up behind you, leather rustling as cooper fell in stride beside you so casually, “seems we see eye to eye on that matter,” he drawled, “you demand less when the moon is high, vaultie. the sound of you snorin’ means i can stop listenin’ to your yappin’,” he clicked his tongue, solidifying his point.

“you’re the worst,” you seethed quietly between your teeth, keeping your eyes ahead and doing your best to ignore the way his voice warmed your cheeks and butterflies swirled in your stomach.

nightfall came fast, thankfully, and the two of you had just managed to stumble upon a rickety old home nestled in a hilly area of the desert. it was full of enough sand and dust to know that no one had set foot in it for a long time—safe enough for you to settle down for a rest. cooper allowed you to indulge in your stores of water and jerky, only enough to keep your stomach from eating itself alive.

however, water and food wouldn’t sate your libido. as a small fire warmed you as the harsh cold of the desert chilled you to the bone, you tucked your knees to your chest and closed your eyes to focus on your breathing. you had never felt more like an animal in your life, when you were in the vault you may not have had tens of suitors at your disposal, but you had plenty of alone time and two very usable hands. you were used to indulging when arousal struck.

you felt awful. your mind should’ve been fixated on your father’s whereabouts, yet you rested your chin on your knees and squeezed your eyes shut as you tried not to think about cooper fucking you. he was sitting right next to you, for crying out loud.

as if he knew you were thinking about him, the cowboy ghoul looked over at you with a quiet sigh escaping him as he shrugged off his long, leather coat, “here. you’re gonna’ freeze to death before mornin’,” he spoke lowly, shifting so he could drape it over your shoulders until it covered much of your body, “desert nights aren’t for amateur adventurers.”

a shaky breath quivered from your lips as warmth enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but lean your body against his side to chase more. in response, you felt cooper’s body tense for a brief moment before his arm slowly wrapped over your shoulders and hugged you tight against his side.

silence surrounded you, much like cooper, and you found yourself quickly drifting into a much-needed sleep. unfortunately for you, you were afflicted with the curse of sleep-talking, especially when you were particularly stressed.

cooper’s eyes were fixated on the fire, red and orange embers burning on the old wood as the smoke bellowed out the open windows. he’d been lost deep in his thoughts, wondering how he was letting himself get so soft for someone he hardly knew—then you started mumbling in your sleep. words mostly unintelligible.

“mmh,” you grunted, your eyes squeezing tight as you tilted your face toward cooper, nose brushing against the tight, weathered skin on his neck. it made his breath catch in his throat, “cooper.”

his eyes flickered down to you, tilting his chin just enough so he could see the way your eyes were moving behind their lids, dreaming vividly. he knew that he should wake you up, or at least give you a slight nudge so you would turn away or move down to rest over his lap, but curiosity won. he licked at his lips as you furrowed your brows, your breath hitching in your throat as you choked on what he could only imagine was a moan.

“please,” you slurred quietly, “cooper, don’t… stop.”

“vaul—“ cooper’s nickname for you was cut short when your hand had slithered past the confines of the coat and right over the bulge that tented in his pants, gentle fingers rubbing, “shit.” he hissed, fighting back a low grumble as he watched with half-lidded eyes.

there was no turning back now, not when he flickered his gaze to look over your face, only to be met with your own tired eyes, just barely open. shit.

“i really need this,” you murmured, inhibitions long gone as the night sank in, “please.”

“you need to think long and hard about this, darlin’,” cooper managed to keep his voice level as his gloved hand reached for yours and pushed it until it rested on his thigh.

“i’ve thought about it for a whole week,” you pleaded, fingernails scratching at the fabric of his pants.

there was the smirk you were hoping to see, cracking his lips apart as a laugh whistled out of him, “well, now, a whole week is quite some time to be keeping these feelings at bay without actin’ on ‘em. maybe you’ve got more willpower than i thought.”

you swallowed thickly, pulling away from him just enough so you could sit straighter, “don’t tease me,” you spoke, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout that made heat pool in the pit of his stomach, “i can very much tell you need this as much as i do.”

when his lips twitched you knew you had him right where you wanted him, there was no sense in him denying it. not when you could take one quick glance down to see the trouble you’ve caused for him.

“you think you know what i need?” cooper’s voice, as thick as molasses, made a shiver run down your spine. he lifted a hand after snagging the glove off, caressing your jaw as his calloused thumb brushed over your bottom lip. long gone were the thoughts that worried about morals, you had each other pinned and the outcome was inevitable.

“i do,” you said as you shifted in your spot, “you can touch me. i’m not going to break.”

that roused a laugh deep from cooper’s chest, a smile breaking across his lips, “oh, trust me, if you were gonna’ break you would’ve shattered when i first lassoed that rope around your precious neck,” he grinned, “you are somethin’ else—a real force to be reckoned with.”

you parted your lips to speak, but your breath was quickly taken when cooper’s pressed against yours and within seconds your entire body was on fire. arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, the leather jacket falling off of your body as you moved to your knees for better support. you fought for air as you kissed him with desperation, hands clinging tight to his collar as you slipped so easily onto his lap with your knees on either side of his hips.

his hands slid up the side of your body, caressing your curves as your tongues pressed together and moans muffled in each other’s mouths. with ease, one hand moved to your front so he could tug down at the zipper on your vault outfit, just like the one he’d worn many moons before.

you broke the kiss so you could lean back and take a breath, your chest heaving with each inhale as you helped him remove the jumpsuit until it slid off your shoulders and left you in the white tank top that hugged tight against your breasts. not once did you feel judged under his gaze, in fact, his appreciation for your boldness was palpable, especially as he wore that shit-eating smirk while his fingers slipped under the hem of your top. his skin was rough against yours that had been mostly untouched from the harsh sun rays, it made you tilt your head back and let out a soft sound.

“i wanna’ hear more of those delicious sounds,” cooper’s voice was heavy in your ear as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against your jaw, hands grabbing tight at your bare hips and fingers digging into the skin.

he wasn’t afraid to handle you rough, squeezing a whimper out between your plump lips as he forced your hips to roll against his. both of you relished in the friction, you could feel his hardened cocked buried underneath his clothing as it pressed against your aching cunt. it clenched around nothing pathetically as you rubbed yourself against him with need.

“fuck,” you breathed out shakily as you kept your hips grinding forward in a steady motion, feeling like you could cum like this—but cooper wasn’t going to have any of that.

“language, darlin’” he teased, his teeth dragging across your skin as his lips kissed down your neck, nipping at your skin so he could hear your soft mewls of pleasure as your fingers began hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt, rather poorly.

once rid of the fabric, your hands explored over his body, the skin thick and rough like leather, far different than anything you’ve experienced or known to be true. as your eyes fixated on his body in the firelight and your fingernails scratched at the surface of his chest, you shuddered when he slipped your shirt off and revealed your tits for him to ravage at his leisure.

you had felt selfish for so long, telling yourself that being on the surface meant giving up parts of your old life. pleasure wouldn’t be easy to come by, if at all. there were important things to focus on, lives to save.

yet, here you were—laying on your back over cooper’s leather jack as his hands tugged off the remainder of your vault suit and tossed it behind him. he was settled on his knees before you, so close to you that you were forced to spread your legs on either side of him.

long fingers pressed against your panties, the fabric between your legs soaking wet as he teased you. you could hardly meet his eyes, keeping your own closed as you felt him tug the fabric aside so he could press a digit to your swollen clit. his thumb circled it slowly and you squirmed underneath him, but his other hand pressed against your stomach to keep you flat against the floor.

“keep still, my girl,” he murmured as he pushed a finger into your pussy, happy to find that a second slid in just as easily, “now look at you takin’ my fingers so well, you must’ve been needin’ this for a real long time. i suppose i can reward that patience of yours,” he praised you through tender movements, each thrust of his two fingers causing moans to spill from your lips as you squeezed your cunt around them, “good girl.”

being praised by cooper was a delightful surprise, warmth hitting your cheeks when you opened your eyes and saw him staring down at his fingers while he fucked you with them.

“oh, fuck—“ your breath caught in your throat when he curled his fingers, rubbing against the spot that always made you cum. you pulled your knees back so you could press your thighs together around his hand, growing overstimulated. that barely lasted for a second before cooper forced them back apart, the speed of his fingers picking up until he was fucking you relentlessly, your pussy dripping wet and coating his fingers. you hadn’t even taken his cock yet and your mouth was wide open and eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as pleasure coursed through your body.

you moaned out his name loudly, your throat growing hoarse as the knot in your stomach wound tight.

cooper let out a heavy sigh, his hand pressing over your lower stomach and his thumb flicking over your clit, “i need you to cum, darlin’.”

that’s all the encouragement you need to hear before you came on his fingers, squirming and touching as his fingers fucked you through the orgasm—his other hand tugging at his belt buckle.

“oh goodness,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering as your senses slowly returned to you and you could finally get in a deep breath—but that hadn’t lasted very long, “ah, fuck!”

you tilted your chin down and hadn’t even noticed that cooper had unbuttoned his pants just enough to let his cock spring out. you weren’t given a chance to see how big he was before he was pushing it inside of you. you could already tell he was bigger than anything you’ve taken before as it stretched out your pussy, pain shooting through you as you whimpered loudly.

“shh,” cooper pressed a finger to your lips, trying to quiet you down as he pushed his hips forward until his cock was deep inside. you wouldn’t stop with the mixture of moans and pained whimpers, so cooper shoved two fingers into your mouth and you sucked on them like a bitch in heat, “fuck.”

both of you needed time to adjust, you could see cooper’s chest moving as he breathed heavily and you could feel his cock twitching. his free hand settled on your hip as he leaned back on his heels, the fingers in your mouth retreating to instead fondle your perfect tits. he was positioned nicely, able to indulge in the sight as his cock slowly pulled out of your swollen cunt, large hand now pressed against your lower stomach to keep you still as he rocked his hips in a slow, steady rhythm.

the ghoul’s mind was far from what was right and wrong. he was hyper focused on how you looked in this moment, your pretty face completely fucked out and full of euphoria. your chin wet from his fingers and your thighs squeezing against his hips to ground yourself from the size of his cock as it filled you completely with each roll of his hips.

slow didn’t last long—cooper didn’t have the patience, nor the need to go slow. he knew you were a capable young thing, able to take his cock easily as he leaned forward enough so his hand could instead wrap around your throat. his hips snapped against yours mercilessly in one quick thrust, a violent rhythm following after that made you want to scream at the pleasure that made your entire body shake. you swore you’d never felt someone fuck you so deeply, a gurgled moan choked in your throat as he forcefully kept you quiet, pressing on your windpipe.

“keep takin’ it,” cooper groaned, sweating beading on his forehead as his cock slammed so deep inside you that tears welled up in your eyes from the ache, “you’re good at taking a cock, vaultie, i should’ve fucked you senseless sooner.”

you were unable to answer his vulgar words with your jaw slack.

he fucked you like this for a good while, your hands lifting up to press flat against his chest and stomach. he continued to litter you with praises and compliments, words you were certain you’d only hear under this circumstance—you hoped this wasn’t the only time you’d be fucked by him.

your body was growing weak with each passing second, but you were able to offer enough energy to sit up as cooper pulled you along with him as he sat and leaned back against the wall. you were straddling him once again, your knees raw against the sandy floorboards as his hands guided you to slowly bounce up and down.

your hands rested over his shoulders for support and soon you had enough strength to fuck yourself on his cock just like he wanted, giving him the opportunity to sit back and watch your show.

you were desirable in his eyes, your cheeks red as you squeezed at his shoulders tight, long lashes fluttering as moans fell past your lips that he kissed so much they were plump and swollen. you were surprised that you were able to keep up a good rhythm, feeling him stretch you out each time you pressed your hips down on his. you wanted to talk to him, to tell him how good he felt or how you wanted him to toss you on your hands and knees and fuck you without holding back, but all you could do was moan his name as your head hung back and eyes fixated on the dim ceiling.

“fuck,” he hissed, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear as his thumb circled your clit, “i need you to cum on my cock now, darlin’,” he pleaded, breath hot and sending a shiver down your spine as you had slowly started to lose your strength, “be a good girl for me,” he cooed, and you were obedient.

much like when you exercised in the vault, you dug deep inside and gathered all your remaining strength, this time for the sake of pleasing yourself and the ghoul who had thrown his morals out the window for the sake of pleasure. cooper’s hand lifted so he could tilt your chin down, forcing your eyes to meet his as you bounced yourself steadily, “cooper,” you whined, “you… ah—fuck. don’t stop. please, please, please.”

your begging worked wonders. cooper’s thumb rubbed hard against your clit as he did his best to snap his hips upward each time you slammed down on his cock, meeting you halfway. his groans of pleasure were loud as both of you balanced on the edge of release, seconds away from letting that heat in your stomachs explode.

of course, you were the first to cry out so loud that cooper had to shut you up with his lips.

you came hard, your hips shaking and thighs twitching as you moaned his name as his tongue assaulted yours. you wanted to push him away and fall back onto the floor, to writhe on the ground in pleasure as your body could have a chance to relax

but cooper wasn’t done yet. with both of his hands landing on your hips, he kept your sensitive cunt fucking his cock like you were just some toy. you were sensitive everywhere, your body hot to the touch and cunt abused by his cock, using a hand to cover your mouth as tears spilled down your cheeks each time he brushed against your cervix.

“shit,” he breathed, “you little killer.”

with a final, deep thrust of his hips, cooper came inside you with your name strangled in his throat. you could feel the bruising on your skin from his tight hands as you collapsed forward and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

your heavy breaths were the only sounds, aside from the crackling of the dying fire. both of your bodies were damp and sticky from sweat and cum—cold from the wind that blew through the open windows, so you curled up against his chest as his cock softened inside you. neither of you made a move, instead cooper reached for the leather jacket that had been under your body, putting it around your shoulders once more so the cool air was blocked for you both.

“we should… do that again.” you breathed on his skin, smiling when a weak laugh bubbled up from his throat, humoured by you.

finally, relief warmly greeted you both.

#fallout tv #cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #fallout fic #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #wordsbyspatial #walton goggins #fallout prime

[kirimoochi]

my fairy.

₊˚ ᗢ jung joon-hyung! scaramouche x kim bok-joo!reader.

⤷ inspired by weightlifting fairy kim bok-joo, 1.6k wc.

it felt like destiny brought the two of you together. that fateful day you slammed into him while he was riding his bike, completely knocking him off balance as you apologized profusely. you bowed in front of him several times until you realized he started to huff under his breath, a roll in his eyes had you quickly reeling your head. you stood up straight, noting that he wasn’t taller than you in comparison. slightly shorter than most boys you’ve seen. what sport did he play? based on that uniform, he looked like he went to the same school as you. 

he angrily cusses you out, asking for you to watch where you’re going. he said: “you must be deaf and blind not to see me on the road.” your friends stared at him in shock as you immediately glared at him in response, calling him out on his attitude before he jumped back onto his bike, speeding off in a hurry. you curse at him, calling him an entitled brat despite knowing well he won’t hear you. 

before you can leave the scene, you notice a fallen handkerchief. with the lace trimming and soft purple color, you think it’d be too girly to be his. and yet you tuck it into your pocket with a sigh. 

the next day was awful. in the morning, you find out that you lost your lucky t-shirt. you’ve always kept it since you were an elementary school kid. it would always give you good luck before your tournaments. and now it’s suddenly missing. you searched in your closet frantically, pulling out every article of clothing you could to no avail. it was gone. 

during lunch, a few ribbon dancers came to your table, snickering about how much you ate that day. you couldn’t help yourself. the morning was stressful enough, and it just so happened that they were serving your favorite meal today. you wanted a little bit of comfort during your time of distress. your friends nudge you with their elbow, stopping you from flicking food onto their expensive, tight jackets. you dislike them. and wouldn’t be surprised if they were the ones who stole your t-shirt. they’ve always been up to something. 

the cherry on top was having to chase down the underwear thief you saw lurking around the girls’ dorm. to your surprise and horror, you saw the rude biker in front of you. with wide eyes, you scream, pointing at him before charging forward with the intent of tackling him. how dare he steal your t-shirt! and possibly some other women's underwear! you never thought of him as a disgusting pervert but the evidence felt so clear. the same build and hoodie was enough to tell you it was the same man. he withdrew a breath as he struggled to climb back the makeshift rope his roommate made. you drag him by his hoodie, eventually ripping it off of him as you called out into the darkness, hoping someone would help you. 

but he wasn’t the thief. you and he stood in front of the administrators in their office. your hands squeezing each other tightly as you nervously try to explain that what you saw earlier was not a dream. you swore this man stole your clothes. why else would he be out so late? the rude, navy-haired man stared you down while you only rolled your eyes, dismissing another rude comment. you demanded that he give you back your t-shirt, not believing his story whatsoever. he shook his head, asking you to give him an apology instead. you swore you felt steam escape from your ears at this. 

this was not the end of the underwear thief as you and your friends were putting away chairs from your school event, you noticed one of the staff member’s shirts lifting, revealing a lacy, red underwear. he smiled eerily at you before grabbing the plastic chair in your hands, trying to intimidate you. however, your friends screamed loud enough for the others to arrive on the scene, taking him away in a blaring police car. you sighed as you held onto your t-shirt, looking down at the fabric as you wondered if you owed that rude biker an apology.

luckily (or possibly unlucky) for you, you learned very quickly that he was part of the swim team. but the man had a royally bad attitude. you found out from a few other people that while he was attractive, he had a nasty personality to boot. you showed up at the school pool, hoping to find him lurking around with the other team members. you wanted to give him an apology for accusing him of stealing your shirt and return his handkerchief. you even went as far as to wash it for him. he calls out to you and you twist your body to face him, a cocky smirk is spread across his face. he slowly walks towards you, a towel hanging over his neck as he stares you down. 

“a short, attractive, dark-haired boy,” he says, “not the most detailed description of me but at least you got the attractive part right. you must be looking for me then.” you sigh under your breath. holding out his handkerchief with a bit of hesitance, telling him you washed it last night. 

he quickly snatches it out of your hand, scowling at you once more as he raises his voice, asking you why you washed it. when he took a step forward, you stepped back, accidentally slipping into the pool. he groans in annoyance, watching you struggle before diving in and shoving you onto the surface. how unromantic. when you brushed off his touch, you left immediately, feeling humiliated as his teammates burned holes into your back. he stared at the back of your figure, seeing you shiver as your athletic jacket dripped with water. he crosses his arms over the edge of the pool, wondering why you seemed familiar. 

three days after this encounter, you were sitting with your friends in the cafeteria when he suddenly interrupted your conversation by sitting next to you. he didn’t say a word and only ate his food, once in a while, he’d glance up at you. your friends raise an eyebrow at his behavior, subtly asking you if you know him. you continued to eat, shoving the rest of the curry in your mouth before opening your yakult. letting out a deep sigh, you notice that he placed his own next to yours. “do you not want yours?” you asked, nervously taking it. 

“people like you always eat the most, so why don’t you have it?” why did you even think he was nice? how rude. you crinkled your eyebrows for a moment. you scoffed. setting down the drink, you packed up your things and took your tray, leaving everyone at the table. 

what is wrong with this guy? he went from despising you to somehow following you around like a lost puppy. he’d make short snappy comments to you. whether it be about another person down the street wearing the most horrific outfit known to man. or about your choice of clothes when you sneak out of the dorms. as much as he’s kind of irritating, you slowly get used to his bratty nature. it felt nice having someone around who didn’t question your feelings. especially when it came to your realization that your team coach had to cut costs because of the lack of funding. you’ve felt a heavy weight on your heart ever since you saw your coach try in her office, trying to keep everything together for your friends.

he started to show up more often at your family’s chicken restaurant. he doesn’t like oily chicken and yet he’s seen ordering the same box meal every time. your father was beginning to think he liked you. what a farfetched idea though. you could never see yourself dating him in a million years! he was a short, sharp-tongue swimmer who didn’t care about anyone but himself. and yet you let this perception of him change you. 

it was late at night, just barely before curfew that the two of you were talking beside a small waterfall. he asked you about your commitment to weightlifting and the sport, giving you his 2 cents about the sport. you raised your eyebrow, surprised to know that he went out of his way to understand your sport. most of the other people there saw it as nothing but an eating challenge between members, and that was because you had to maintain your weight or gain weight. 

you start seeing him more often. maybe a little too much to the point you’ve had to hide underneath the table of the convenience store. the two of you were just going out for some instant ramen. when the two of you saw one of the counselors roaming around, grabbing a coffee from the front, he pulled you under the bar table. you were so close to him. you could feel his breath on the surface of your lips. you stayed in this position until his eyes shifted over to the window, seeing the counselor leave. when he moves up, he hits the back of his head on the table, a soft squeal coming out of him as you instinctively reach out, brushing his hair as he winces. what a cute sound, you tell yourself. he successfully escapes, holding out his hand as you take it, hitting your head on the way out.

truthfully, maybe your heart skipped a beat a little when you both had to run back to the dorms, the adrenaline rush that coursed through your veins made you look at him a little differently. 

#₊˚ ᗢ kirimoochi #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines

[shortpplfedup]

We Are Episodes 1-5: Just guys being dudes I guess

Well I didn't think this was the show that would bring me back to writing anything, but low stakes and baby steps I guess. As with most of the BL I've enjoyed lately, I originally had absolutely zero intention of watching this. A 4-couple 16-ep hangout BL from New Siwaj? Nothing in there I need. Then this photo emerged from the set stills...

...and suddenly I was listening. Not terribly attentively mind you, but my curiosity was piqued enough to give her a try. So I did, and 5 weeks in I've decided she can stay for now.

I wanna be clear: there is nothing happening in this show. This isn't a good or interesting show. This is all about guys being dudes, hanging out with their friends, making new friends, and liking each other. Occasionally some of them talk about Art. But the vibes are...intriguing is far too strong a word. It's fun. It's cute. The characters are cutouts but clearly drawn (that is definitely one of New's strengths, I always know who his characters are and they rarely surprise or confuse me). The situations they put them in are pure undiluted tropery, but it works somehow? The cast has a lot of charm, that helps. Aou is playing probably my favourite character of his ever. Satang is making aegyo work for him shockingly well. Winny is giving something inexplicably fun as a surly art student. Poom is a goofy delight. Godji is here being hilarious. Every character is somehow pitched perfectly for the vibe. I am endeared. Each of our 4 couples is playing in their own genre of romantic comedy, but it all pulls together and not apart for me because of the breezy vibe of the whole. It ain't much, but it feels like everybody was having fun making this, and I'm really responding to that right now.

Our trope troupe, in no particular order.

Chain and Pun

Let's start with the friends to lovers couple, because there isn't much happening here yet (methinks the reshoots have pushed their story back near the end). There are all indications that both are somewhat aware of how they might feel. Pun is kinda chaotic and dumb like a fox methinks. Chain is endeared. 1.5/4 hearts

Tan and Fang

Next up we have the loud and quiet pair. Fang mostly keeps himself to himself and Tan is LITERALLY incapable of doing that. Motormouthing a mile a minute, telling all his business, calling friend gatherings together to announce that he likes somebody (not that they're dating, just that he likes them). He's annoying. And Fang is endeared by that. Him agreeing to date Tan seems a little out of nowhere but there isn't any pretence or secrecy to Tan. What you see is exactly what you get, and Fang seems to like what he sees. 2.5/4 hearts.

Toey and Q

Our third couple are our grumpy/sunshine couple. Normally this level of cutesy would drive me straight up a wall, but I think what's saving it for me is that nobody's really denying their feelings here. Q grumbles, but Toey has him completely wrapped around his little finger, and they both kinda know it. I'm pretty sure these two would actually burn down the world for each other if it was required. 3.5/4 hearts.

Phum and Peem

Our enemies to lovers couple. Up until this week I did not understand what they hell they were doing with these two, but it's clicked into place now: you think Phum is taking advantage, but Peem wouldn't be doing a single solitary fuck of this if he didn't want to. He started this out by kicking that man in the nuts, he ain't scared. Once Peem's curiosity overrode his pisstivity, it was only a matter of time. Watching him wait this entire episode for Phum to kiss him, then slowly realize he was gonna have to be the one to do it himself was...*snort* 2.5/4 hearts.

#we are #we are the series #guys being dudes

[detta-pica]

SatoSugu fanfic reclist

Here’s a bunch of excellent stories that don’t get as much attention as I think they deserve.

Humour

i'm suffering (falling in love) by themoonisdead

Shoko is trapped in a hell of her best friends’ making - they are in love with each other, but too stupid to figure it out. So she nudges them in the right direction, because they keep dragging her into their mess and she’s had enough.

No curses AU, fluff and humour, excellent sashisu friendship content

Rating: T

10.5k words

Victim Of Local Attempted Murder Insists "He's So Into Me" by satorussuguru

Satoru annoys/harasses Suguru into going on a date with him, having convinced himself that they are meant for each other. Suguru disagrees, and also doesn’t really understand what’s happening.

Canon universe, fluff and humour, everyone is bad at feelings

Rating: G

5k words

not fake at all, send this to five people you love or else you will die instantly!!! By epistle

Two scammers fall in love through their attempts to scam each other. There are scam emails, scam calls, genuine mutual understanding, attempts at insurance fraud, and a scammy marriage proposal.

No curses AU, humour, Megumi is the only sane person around

Rating: T

6k words

Fluff

gods might reside in your fingertips by getou_suguru (dheiress)

Just a moment of softness and sweetness in a version of canon in which nothing hurts. Remember that time Haibara asked Suguru about what kinds of snacks to bring back? In this universe, he gets to deliver on that offer, and then Satoru has opinions about the sweets.

Canon divergence, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff (pretty much literally)

Rating: T

2k words

our last belief by werevolche

They get to both be teachers and also totally married for all intents and purposes. This story is just a little glimpse at their domestic bliss. Satoru says something absolutely adorable, and they get to be soft with each other. That’s it.

Canon divergence, established relationship, domestic fluff

4k words

Rating: T

起死回生 | Revived from the Dead, Recovered from Hopelessness by Liquid__Sunshine

Satoru tracks Suguru down a couple of years post-defection and pesters the poor, stressed single dad to teach him how to cook. It goes much better than planned (not the cooking lesson though; that goes to shit).

Also, Mimiko and Nanako get to be adorable kids in this one.

Canon divergence, domestic fluff, cooking and eating together as a family

Rating: T

11k words

Angst with a happy ending

i’ll become your wound by imdamagecontrol

Satoru and Suguru run into each other ten years after their break up. Satoru has Big Feelings about it. There are sweet, fluffy flashbacks of them falling in love, and the ending is so lovely.

TW: Questionable decisions are made while both parties involved are drunk. It’s never addressed or seen as a bad thing by the characters.

No curses AU, non-linear narrative, second chances

Rating: E

23k words

Drawing the Map by MemeKon

Suguru doesn’t murder a village and Satoru goes after him instead of wallowing in grief. They have an honest to goodness conversation about their feelings and the future. It’s great.

Canon divergence, fix-it, developing relationship

Rating: T

3.5k words

#jjk #jjk fanfic #stsg #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic rec #stsg fanfic #jjk reclist #stsg reclist #fanfic reclist

[another-lost-mc]

What are your ocs + Michael's first impressions on mc? 😋

Hmm, I wonder. 😋 I'll throw these behind a Read More link because the post got a little long. Michael's part is a very short overview of a WIP in my drafts that's literally MC's first visit to the Celestial Realm and how he copes with it. lol

AZRA

His initial interest in MC is mostly superficial at first: their appearance, how MC reacts to his casual flirtations, whether MC tries to flirt back...

He knows that seducing the human exchange student is at the top of the list of things he probably shouldn’t do, but he just can't help himself.

(He’s also eager for literally any excuse to get on Lucifer’s nerves.)

His behaviour and feelings for MC change quickly when he actually spends time talking to them. It's not long before he's absolutely smitten.

ZEE

He doesn't really care about exchange program or its participants, but since it's his job, certain considerations have to be made: what sorts of food or drinks should the club add to the menu, is there anything unsafe for humans they should remove, do they need to hire more security staff while the exchange program runs?

As much as Zee doesn’t want to think about the angels either, any of the exchange students getting hurt at the club would be a disaster. The last thing he needs is Diavolo or worse, Barbatos, getting involved if something happened to the exchange students on club property.

He observes MC the first time they follow the demon brothers to the club. Based on how neglectful they are of MC’s safety and well-being, Zee takes it upon himself to ensure the human remains intact.

He tells himself that whatever happens to MC outside the club isn’t any of their business, but that changes quickly when he realizes MC is even more vulnerable once they leave and that could pose problems too.

KARASU

His primary assignment is analyzing how the exchange students use Devildom technology and how it can be improved.

MC's safety is also a concern, but he hopes knows Mammon is keeping an eye on them so he spends the first week focused primarily on the residents of Purgatory Hall.

Luke spends a lot of time researching demons and demon-like behaviour; his top searches are things like What to do if a demon… or Why are demons so…

Simeon is a technological nightmare that Karasu was not anticipating, and he needs a lot more personalized attention.

When Karasu finally interacts with MC on a more personal level - first through the AI, and then from his own device later as himself - he gets utterly swept away by the prospect of friendship.

TENEBRIS

He knows about the exchange program long before it starts - Diavolo could hardly contain his excitement for this next big step of RAD’s legacy.

Tenebris meets MC completely by accident, and he wasn’t very polite about it, but in his defense he had more important things on his mind at the time.

(He does recall seeing MC’s picture printed in the school’s newspaper later and hopes that he didn’t hurt or scare them too badly.)

If Tenebris suddenly agrees to come to RAD - as a student, of course - he tells anyone who asks that he’s simply curious about it. (It has nothing to do with protecting certain humans from ill-intentioned demons or good-for-nothing sorcerers.)

His watchful eye and cautious friendship with MC doesn’t go unnoticed.

METATRON

He's so excited to have a new human to talk to (that isn't Solomon) that he has to be reminded more than once not to overwhelm them.

He's genuinely curious about MC's life, where they're from and their family and friends and the types of hobbies they like and their interests.

Most of the angels are welcoming, but Meta is like a ray of sunshine that eagerly shows MC all the places in the Celestial Realm he thinks they'd enjoy: the library, his favourite dining hall, the gardens with the nicest flowers and the nicest lake if they want to go swimming.

Of course, he can't monopolize all of MC's free time - and when he eats dinner alone for the first time in nearly a week since their arrival, he realizes he already misses them, just a little bit.

MICHAEL

His feelings about MC and their arrival in the Celestial Realm are...complicated.

He's excited to finally meet them in person, and he's happy that they're as delightful as Luke and Simeon would lead him to believe.

But there's that uncomfortable feeling deep in his heart that he tries to ignore: jealousy, because MC has what he lost. He doesn't blame MC for being themselves, nor does he blame his fallen brothers for growing attached to the human that's helped them with so much. Still, emotions aren't always logical and for a time, it's difficult.

Thankfully, the more time he spends with MC, that jealousy and resentment fades. He appreciates their whimsical nature and kind heart, and he finally understands how a mere human could become as special to Lucifer as he once was.

It's only when MC prepares to leave back to the Devildom, that Michael realizes that he was powerless to resist them as the others were.

Return to: OC Masterlist | Obey Me Masterlist

#jes.oc asks #obey me oc #obey me michael #my oc: azra #my oc: zekhan #my oc: karasu #my oc: tenebris #my oc: metatron

[scarletwritesshit]

⛪ Sunday x Reader ⛪God Before an Aeon

Mistakes happen every day. It’s part of being a human.

Not every misjudgment is dire enough to be dubbed a sin. A benign mishap such as forgetfulness or a slightly less favorable decision is not enough to warrant the wrath of God.

Despite this, every day you returned to confess your wrongdoings. With every visit, you hoped that a certain someone would be there to relay your apologies to those above. As you waited in line, you listened closely to those in front of you, not with the intention of eavesdropping, but rather, if you could tell if he was there. If it wasn’t his voice that you heard, then you could care less. If, however, it was him, then whatever little slip-ups you made that day were going to become his problem.

That alone was a sin worth confessing. Regardless, you kept up this act, for you hoped for so much as a glimmer of hope of seeing him face to face.

The tiredness in his voice every time he spoke to you was obvious. Every confession concluded with the same general exchange to quickly send you off.

"Do you swear to Xipe to change your ways for the better?"

"On my life."

"Very well. Append for your sins and be on your way now."

The precious time of his that you have wasted, when it could’ve been dedicated to granting forgiveness to those who desperately needed it, accumulated over time. Five minutes spent with you could’ve been five minutes less his day had to drag out relaying forgiveness to the Harmony.

You could tell that he recognized your voice. He must be speaking between a clenched jaw every time he listened to your pointless confession. However, he couldn’t deny you this service. It would be rather improper of him to do so, especially in front of so many onlookers awaiting their turn. God forbid others get the wrong impression that their sin is far too grave to be confessed, otherwise, his dearly valued guests would be living in fear of the Harmony, rather than embracing THEIR forgiveness.

He just needed one day where you were his sole client so that he had the opportunity to tell you to utilize his time wisely. That way, he could use any means necessary to rid himself of you, should it come down to such a thing. Even if it did take him a little bit of forceful intervention.

A slow day of confessions was precisely what you were seeking as well. With no one in the vicinity to catch wind of your words, you would finally be able to confess your ultimate sin to him. A sin arguably greater than the combination of everything confessed to him thus far.

During a rather quiet system hour, no one could be seen awaiting their turn for a confession. The coast appeared clear, but one problem remained; you couldn’t tell if he was in there ahead of time, as there was no one around for him to speak to.

If it wasn’t him after all, you could make up something convincing enough to count as a sin, so that whoever was present wouldn’t be the one to dismiss you. The moment you hear that glorious angelic voice, however, that is when you would know to no longer hold back.

You walked up to the confession booth, still keeping your eyes for any last second interlopers. Before you could open your mouth, a voice from the other side of the booth spoke to you.

"Let’s get this over with. What is it now?" he said.

It was most certainly him.

"Sunday," you said, leaning in closer, "I have made…a mistake. A mistake far graver than any prior ‘blunder’ of mine."

In an instant, a pair of glowing yellow eyes turned to face toward you from inside the booth. They were wide open with fury, and his pupils narrowed with intense focus. The speed in which he turned around to glare at you caused you to flinch, but the window still served as a safeguard between you and him. The inside of the booth remained dark, at least from your perspective, so you couldn’t get a good look at Sunday’s face. The glow from his eyes dimly lit up his face, just enough to make it evident that he was not in the most pleasant mood.

"Speak," he said, with a hint of a growl to his voice.

"I have come seeking forgiveness not from Xipe, but from you, personally.”

"From me?"

"Indeed, as I have been misguided by my own selfish desires, and so a multitude of small mishaps have converged into a far greater sin of mine.”

"On with it. Make your time here actually worth something for once."

You leaned in closer to whisper.

"This sin of mine is perhaps one of the deadliest, but I have a feeling you are no stranger to such things, yes? I desire you, Sunday, above all else.”

All of that wasted time, minutes that accumulated into hours, hours that accumulated into days, just for a chance to have him within reach? Sunday thought that in his time overseeing such matters that by now, he would’ve heard it all. Adultery, polyamory, uncontrollable lust, the list goes on, but never had he encountered someone bold enough to confess a sin directly involving him in such way.

And it just had to be from one of his most irritating clients. Thankfully, no one would be around to see him finally taking steps eradicate this thorn in his side.

Sunday ripped down the only line of defense between you two, the light from outside now fully illuminating the beast-like expression on his face. He had an inhuman sense of insanity about him, a demeanor far different than the normally calm Halovian that had become one of the most beloved icons of Penacony. There was pure frustration, no, fury in his eyes, and his jaw was clenched which such might that you thought that he could snap a tooth at any moment. Before you could even begin to move out of the way, Sunday lounged forward and grabbed your shirt by the collar, pulling you halfway into the confessional booth. It was dimly lit, though you could still see the glow of his rabid eyes and the snarl on his face.

"I believe you have gravely misinterpreted the type of confessions that are to be made to the Aeon of Harmony.”

"I have? Didn’t I confess my greatest sin to you just now?”

"This isn’t a sin. It’s a bloody hookup! Belittling the meaning of the word under the Harmony!" Sunday said, pulling you up closer.

"And this is how you treat those honorable enough to come forward. A pity," you said, smirking at him.

"This is how I treat the filth that tarnish what Xipe stands for!" he said, his grip on you tightening.

"Oh, so anyone with a tinge of sin are filth in your eyes? All of your beloved people whole walk Penacony are no better than discarded trash, one way or another? And here I was thinking that an angel like you would know better."

Sunday was very quickly being driven to his wit’s end. After all, with his mask thrown away long ago, he had no reason to hold back, meaning he could escalate things quickly if he so desired.

And escalate he desired, as that meant dealing with you swiftly.

He pushed you back so that for a brief moment, you regained your footing outside of the booth, but he quickly yanked your collar down so that your head was on the surface where the bars once stood between you. With his other hand, he pinned your back down, so that you were left with no easy means of escape.

"If you don’t straighten up right this instant, I’ll show you want a real sin looks like," he snarled.

"That makes you no better than the rest of them. You’re expecting your Aeon to be so forgiving of THEIR own messenger, when he has a clouded perception of what is right and what is wrong?"

Sunday took a deep breath, as if he was attempting compose himself, but his frustration still clearly remained. Much to your surprise, he completely let go of you. He stood tall and adjusted his jacket.

"...It would be inappropriate of me to stain such a sacred place with blood," he huffed.

Sunday gestured for you to stand up.

"Run along now," he said, swatting his hand at you. "I let you off easy this time, but if you know what’s best for you, perhaps you would save the confessing for something more...prominent in the eyes of the Xipe?"

He saw you off with a cheerful smile. Almost too cheerful, for what he had done, or almost done, to you just moments prior.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

[sinnbaddie]

The Naruto ask! 4, 6 and 19

Putting a cut here so y’all don’t have to scroll because it is rather long!

4. are the romantic undertones between naruto and sasuke intentional or accidental?

I want to say fully accidental because Kishimoto just cannot write romance but I can’t help but think that some scenes are just… too romantic to not be intentional. The moon/sun theme, naruto saying he would die with Sasuke if it came to that, the cover art of them having necklaces with each others faces, etc.

There are just too many instances where they fit together a little too well, I mean even dude bros call them gay, which is a feat in of itself.

So, while I can’t say for certain if it was either, I can say that if there was intention to it, it makes the canon couples look incredibly bad imo.

6. what makes the Naruto ending bad?

I’m rewatching rn and am currently in the beginning of the war arc, so I’m refinding out that there are just… so many things Kishimoto ruined with the way he ended the series.

My biggest gripe of course is Sasuke. He is one of my favorite characters and has been since the beginning. After freshly rewatching the scene where he nearly kills Sakura and knowing how his arc finishes is frustrating. Sasuke deserved justice, he deserved revolution and his clan’s name cleared.

If we’re following canon where Sasuke lives, then I think a full dismantling of the system – changing the way the entire village worked would’ve been a good start. Destroying the leaf was not the way to go about it and he was intent on it because he was (validly) emotional. It’s a huge disservice to Sasuke and readers to not see revolution happen because it pushes this idea that the oppressed have to conform to their oppressor, it’s super nationalistic but that’s more about the entirety of Naruto instead of just the ending.

Personally for me? Sasuke and Naruto dying at the end of their last fight would’ve been a more appropriate ending than Sasuke assimilating to the oppressive village that committed genocide against his clan for “peace”. I’m incredibly upset that Kishimoto wrote Naruto not actually doing anything for Sasuke and the remembrance of his people (lets also not forget the Hyuga), it feels disingenuous to Naruto’s character that he “went back on his word”.

It was set up so well for Sasuke and Naruto to die in the end and to make them continue living just backtracked on both of their writing.

19. pettiest fandom opinion you've blocked someone for?

Almost always for disliking my faves. I just recently blocked someone for disliking Might Gai and some others for shipping characters I don’t like together😭

#sin posting #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #anti naruto ending #pro sasuke uchiha #might gai #sasunaru #I don’t ship sn anymore but I’d be a fucking idiot for denying the romantic (intentional or accidental) subtext between them #it just happened a little TOO much for it not to be intentional #but with knowing how Kishimoto is I can’t see him doing it on purpose… #sasuke deserved better #he was a victim who was struggling as a trauma survivor and y’all were hating on him #for wanting to destroy an oppressive nationalistic state and I won’t ever forget that #silly shit? it would’ve been funny if he did destroy it imo #real shit? I’m glad he didn’t but I’m mad he didn’t get a revolution at least and a huge change of system

[bloodbathfortwo]

What does everyone think of Nigel Forbes-Colbie ever getting pregnant? It doesn't matter how you interpret it: Omegaverse, males can get pregnant Au, Trans! Nigel. Just tell me your guys' headcanons of Nigel's pregnancy: The changes, the hardships, the softness, and the vulnerabilities.

#murderous intent #like minds 2006 #like minds #alex forbes #nigel colbie #Alex Forbes X Nigel Colbie #Nigel Colbie x Alex Forbes #If you guys haven't noticed my recent posts I've been feeling way too soft for this fandom #Like #Too soft #And it's both Nigel and Alex's fault for making me too soft when all I want is to cause chaos and do crimes #To be honest I'd like to Imagine Nigel's pregnancy as an arduous one: Swollen feet . Sore back. Weird cravings. Mood swings. Everything. #And he isn't used to seeing himself get swollen with life each and every day. While Alex is so gullible first thing in the morning because #of the baby bump growing every single day. And Nigel getting rounder every week. #Sure. Nigel is enjoying being pampered by Alex with all these services and gifts but sometimes he thinks that he isn't that attractive #Anymore for Alex. And that while he's carrying his children he will leave him like a used toy. #He'd have instances where he'd feel conflicting feelings for their child and think of possibilities of removing her from his body #But he'd soon regret it. He just breaks down into tiny little pieces of ever thinking of their daughter that way. His and ALEX"S #He can never stomach killing her. He can never stomach ruining her beautiful life that he has yet witnessed. #He still has his self-harm tendencies but he avoids it. He avoids harming his angel. His miracle. His life. #He wants to be a good father to his child. He wants to nurture her. Feed her knowledge and love. Cater to her needs and be at her beck #and call: be a father. #Alex knows what's happening to Nigel. They talk. And they talk everyday. He knows how much it can be hard for Nigel during his pregnancy #And he will always be there to protect his spouse and his unborn child. #He will spite their original purpose in order to create their own purpose. Which Nigel had a hard time letting go of. #It was hard. Seeing the history that made them into the people they are today. But it had to #they had to change #change for their family. #For their miracle. #And Nigel seeing Alex being this doting makes him fall for him ten times more

[dennisboobs]

talking to macdennis shippers makes me realize how much more i enjoy charden lmfao

#i love early seasons macden a lot but i think they sort of. fucked mcdn beyond repair in a lot of ways #where they Need to derail the show and do some genuine repairs #if theyd stayed the way they were in s5 itd be like oh yeah nbd theyre fucking lol #but now its. complicated #which isn't inherently bad but i think theres so much to unpack that its just like. if its not done right its going to be a disaster #charden have remained actual friends #it doesn't feel like a huge jump for them to be on good terms #but everyone immediately assumes something must have happened offscreen if macden are getting along #like. its overcomplicated! idk! i think dennis' entire character is overcomplicated #and it makes it really hard because he is So established to just have a fun plot #also i think theyve slowly fucked mac's character and have no intention of fixing it like they have with charlie and dennis' characters #like charlie was made Too Dumb and theyve been remedying that by making him a little more grounded and serious #dennis was Too Angry and they're remedying it by having him develop a way of burning off pressure without exploding #but everything theyve developed for mac has just sort of been left behind #if there was a moment to show how he'd changed it wouldve been post mfhp but it almost seemed like it was a complete reversal #he devolved lol #he was definitely like. better. in s16. but he's lost so much complexity while the others have gained more #and it feels incredibly unbalanced #dee is just a nothing character now too which (while i disagree with a lot of the complaints abt her in s16) can be seen clearly now #but mac is just. #okay im done rambling bye #ada speaks #idk how to explain but macden as a dynamic feels like it holds both of their characters back #and it rarely brings anything new or interesting to the table #dennis shows a different side of himself around charlie #but he is. mostly just angry or exasperated around mac

[girlcrushau]

#me? about to use tumblr as a diary again? in 2024? unfortunately:/ #but here have a waterfall i saw on a hike last week as payment #i am sO tired and exhausted emotionally after dating #there's this guy that i fr thought was going to last and be around for a long time. we spent like every moment together that we could for 2 #months straight and if we werent physicaly together we were texting or calling or on ft . just every part of our day had the other in it #not once did i ever feel unwanted undesired or uncared for. not once did i feel that i wasnt sure of his intentions. i felt safer with him #in those 2 months than i ever did with any one else i could think to compare to. #until one day he just didnt think it important to communicate any more. after 3 days of nearly nothing .. hardly any talking . i asked if #he was ok if we were ok. what was going on in his head. he said some ive just been with my buddies and family and havent been on my phone #and just. immediately thats heartbreak yanno. thats :// thats what they say when theres a new girl. but there'd never been a reason to think #there was another girl so i was like ok we're gonna trust bc this dude has been So good in every way. so i said imy but i understand. enjoy #your time with your buddies and with your fam -- i cant wait to hear about it (and hold you) #and i havent heard from him in the 3 weeks since. just randomly #so last night #i send the dreaded 'i miss you' text. #i dont expect to hear back and i accept the hurt that will come with that and the confusion that i've felt settles deeper into my heart #until this afternoon i hop on ig and see a hard launch that was posted an hour after my text was sent #that shit kinda hurt different. but also sent me into a bit of a delirious state where all i could do is laugh bc are you for fucking real #did she see my message? i know it. bc i know him and i know that he wouldnt hide anything from the person he's giving his heart #and his softness to. i can almost imagine how he showed her and promised her theres nothing to worry about #and there really isnt anything to worry about because he genuinely is the type to give his all to the relationship he's in #which feels silly to say after what happened w us. like no there wasnt a title ever #it sucks to call it a situationship because a month ago we were laughing in bed together about how we could never bc we were all in. #just the timing of the hard launch makes me giggle. did my text push them to have a conversation about what they are. was she really the #reason that he went away on me. #im trying not to blame myself . trying not to think about the phone calls i didnt answer. about what i could have done differently. trying #not to think about where we would be if i didnt let my anxieties hold me back. if i wasnt scared about what he'd think of the parts of me #that i keep hidden just a little bit longer than the rest. #and at the same time im trying not to put him on a pedestal. but that pedestal is just where i wholeheartedly believe he belongs #he set the bar for me. he set the standard. i was never too much. i was never too little. he made me feel perfect just as i am

[yagami-raito-kun]

A timeline of Noelverse

So I saw these tags from @lizirinzs​ on the latest chapter update for Reunion, and it got me thinking about the fact I’ve never shared the timeline I keep for key events in the Noelverse. If you, like me, struggle to figure out where events fall relative to each other without detailed notes, here you go!

(TL;DR - as of Reunion, Light has been in Near’s custody for nine years, working with the SPK for seven, and looking after Julia for four.)

January 28, 2013

Mikami dies

Light is shot by Matsuda

Near takes custody of Light and fakes his death

February 14, 2014

Misa dies

December 13, 2014

Near approaches Light for help on the Janus case

December 15, 2014

Near, Light (disguised as Matsuda), and Roger fly to London

December 23, 2014

Roger dies

Light and Near share a bed (and their backstories) in a hotel room

December 24-25, 2014

Janus (in disguise) captures Light and Near on Noel Road

Janus slashes Light under his right eye, leaving a permanent scar

Light breaks free, kills Janus, and cuts Near loose

January 2015

Light moves into Roger’s old rooms upstairs

August 24, 2015

Near celebrates his 21st birthday (the oneshot)

February 14, 2016

Near talks to the Task Force about C-Kira

Matsuda deduces that Light is alive

February 28, 2018

Light is visited by Ryuk and learns about Libra

March 5, 2018

Matsuda and the Task Force come to HQ

Light is sent back to the downstairs cell

March 15, 2018

Near kidnaps Libra

Julia shoots Gevanni and tries to force Light to help Libra

Light gases himself and Julia to save the team

March 17, 2018

Matsuda fakes Light’s death to Near

Libra threatens the Task Force and demands Near meet him in two days

March 19, 2018

Near brings Senator Wolff to confront Libra in the storage unit

Libra writes his own name into the Death Note

Near learns that Light is alive

April 2018

Sayu gives birth to her first son, Hideki

Light goes downstairs to visit Julia for the first time

February 28, 2019

Near gives Light the rooftop greenhouse as a birthday present

March 2019

Julia moves into her own set of rooms upstairs

November 2021

Sayu gives birth to her second son, Asa

May 1, 2022

Near tells Light the Japanese ambassador’s daughter has been kidnapped

Sayu, Sachiko, and Asa come to HQ

May 2, 2022

Light talks to Sayu and is rebuffed

May 3, 2022

Light proposes the Trojan Horse plan

Near confronts Sayu (and is also rebuffed)

May 6, 2022

Light and Sachiko speak on the roof

Near turns over control of the kidnapping case to Light

May 9, 2022

Light successfully bluffs the kidnappers into surrendering

Sayu agrees to try to rebuild her relationship with Light

Light asks Near to move to Japan with him and relinquish control over Light’s imprisonment; Near agrees

May 10, 2022

Sachiko and Sayu return to Japan

January 28, 2023

The SPK, Aizawa, and Matsuda visit Light and Julia’s prison to commemorate the ten year anniversary of the Yellow Box Warehouse

Light and Near burn Near’s scrap of the Death Note

#noelblogging #wild that the timespan of the series has ended up so close to the IRL timespan I've been writing it #also I think this is the first time I've outright said that Light triggering the gas happened on March 15 #I thought outright stating it in the fic would be Too Much but it was my intention when writing the fic #a little angsty easter egg just for me #and now also for you

[hecksupremechips]

Actually cry so goddamn hard when I think about Shinjiro Aragaki healing and being loved and having to learn to be okay with himself and being taken care of

#writing him has just been like. OOOOWOEOEOEOOE i piss tears i cant handle this shit this gay ass shit #i came up with an idea for just like a cute short one shot i wanna do soon and hnnnghh im so emo about it #very healing its like very hard to write some of the shit im gonna be writing cuz basically #some of it is just a little too real man and while i crave the angst and the drama i am just like #AND THEN EVERYONE HOLDS HANDS AND ITS OKAY PLEASE DONT CRY PLEASE #and ive mentioned how shinji has accidentally become nb to me now because i just kinda happened to write him that way without meaning to #and now another thing im noticing is that in my fic hes kinda bpd coded #it definitely wasnt intentional but now im accepting it as truth no one can stop me #i just really need him to be happy its more important to me than anything else man i need it for me #and he needs to be gay with aki they need to kissy and i think its funny cuz even in the parts where shinji is mad at aki and pushing him #away its like. he kinda has it bad lol and its clear he feels no actual hatred towards aki but more just self deprecation because he doesnt #feel good enough and like idk i just think about their respective roles in society like #aki is an honor student star boxer hero very attractive very kind very popular got adopted by a rich family #hes going places you know meanwhile shinji is a drop out who never had a family ever hes homeless hes sketchy hes on drugs #his reputation couldnt be any worse and he just leans into it and feels he has no future and hes worthless garbage #and aki could literally have anyone he wants you know he has an army of girls pining over him but he doesnt want them #HE WANTS SHINJI AND NO ONE ELSE HE SPENDS YEARS CHASING AFTER HIM #and shinji HATES it hes trying so hard to push him away and be the crusty delinquent and make aki see how worthless he really is #but aki just doesnt stop he loves him so much makes me sick SICK #and shinji really loves him back hes like not gonna shut up ever about aki hes like either doing it in a gay ass annoyed way #or hes like ‘haha omg aki is so cute though hes always trying so hard to be tough but hes just so sweet and gentle you know i hope he #doesnt push himself too hard if he got hurt id fall apart hes so silly i hope hes eating good i desire him carnally’ #yeah sorry gamers this is just a pairing i cant be normal about they mean so much to me personally the fate of the world rests upon them