Tumgik
#relaxed and happy verse
onboardsorasora · 11 months
Text
Hi Welcome!
Maxiel Masterlist 2 - Overflow lol
My Dewis and OT3 stories are on Masterlist 2
My Ao3: Quesorasora
Here are ALLLL my current Maxiel stories :)
Tumblr media
Just Let Me Adore You - Rated explicit.
Summary:
It was dumb, honestly, laughable how little he had to go on. But if anyone was gonna get Red Bull’s man, it was Max.
Or;
Daniel Ricciardo was wanted by two organizations, Max’s job was to find him. Falling in love wasn’t a part of the plan.
Writing Prompt - Kissing Scars Coda - Rated Explicit
Sequel is up!
Tumblr media
let me wrap my teeth around the world - Rated explicit
Summary:
“I thought you were staying out?” A voice accused.
“You shouldn’t be calling me Charles.” replied Daniel
“You promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid!”
“And I didn’t!”
“Then why are Renault publicly calling for your head?”
or;
Red Bull got what they wanted and Max got his man…sorta. All they have to do is go to the FIA and everyone's happy. Simple.
Right?
Adore You Coda
Tumblr media
Wreck Me - Rated Mature
Started as a Tumblr ficlet. Summary:
Honestly, Daniel had many dumb ideas before. Ideas that led to the police being called, ideas that lead to waking up in somewhere unknown to him, sometimes naked.
This might not be the worst idea but emotionally it felt like it. He hadn't seen Max in…he didn't know how long. But it was long enough that walking into the lobby of his brand new high-rise on a whim was at the very least…weird.
Tumblr media
Reclamation - Rated Explicit
Wreck Me Sequel! Summary:
reclamation: 
The act of reclaiming or the state of being reclaimed. To claim something back; repossess; to correct an error; to reform. 
The biggest mistake Max ever made was breaking up with Daniel. 5 years later he makes the second biggest mistake by sending him away again. But… he could fix this. 
Daniel was ready to move on. Max didn't want him and thought the absolute worst of him. Cool. It was fine. It was time.
Age FAQ
Tumblr media
Lucid Dreaming
A maxiel sleepwalker au
Daniel is a sleepwalker, his destination? Max's bed.
Tumblr Ficlets:
Maxiel Parents Noah AU:
Procrastination Drabble - Rated everyone
First Birthday Party - Rated everyone
Important News - Rated everyone
Tumblr media
Match Point - Tennis AU - Rated explicit, but open to everyone lol
Inspired by Break Point. Now on AO3
Part 1 - Max Meets Dan | Part 2 - Dan's POV | Part 3 - RBR Beach Party
Part 4 - Dan's Training Camp | Part 5 - [redacted] | Part 6 - Daydreams
Part 7 - Australian Open | Part 8 - Qtr Finals | Part 9 - Pre Semis
Part 10 - Semis | Part 11 - Congratulations! | Part 12 - Idioti
Part 13 - Karting | Part 14 - Love | Part 15 - Winner Winner
Part 16 - Zandvoort Mornings | Part 17 - Injury -_- | Part 18 - Coda
Part 19 - Cheek to cheek | Part 20 - post Singapore quali | Part 21 - RBR World Champs | Part 22 - Back at it? | Part 23 - Happy Birthday Max | Part 24 - Kinktober 5 | Part 25 Congratulations Maxy | Part 26 - Tennis Skirt Coda | Part 27 - Pornstache!Dan | Part 28 - Fluff Coda | Part 29 - Workout Coda | Part 30 - Vegas Baby! | Part 31 - Thanksgiving
Writing Prompt - Quests - Rated everyone
Writing Prompt - Touching - Holding the Other's Chin Up
Writing Prompt - Touching - Gripping Thigh
Writing Prompt - Touching - massaging or sitting in the others lap!
Writing 'Prompt' - Happy + Relaxed | Flufftober Day 25 | Christmas Shopping
Tumblr media
Enchanted AU - Disney Princess Dan 1 | Disney Princess Dan 2 | Disney Princess Dan 3 | Disney Princess Dan 4 | Disney Princess Dan 5 | Disney Princess Dan 6 | Disney Princess Dan 7 | Disney Princess Dan 8 | Disney Princess Dan 9 | Disney Princess Dan 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14
Enchanted AU Christmas:
Tumblr media
Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35
Almost fic
Cotton Swab - Rated explicit
Renovation AU - Rated explicit
Halloween Party - Rated explicit
Girl!Dan - Rated teen lol
Girl!Dan Pt 2 - Rated Mature
Charmed/Practical Magic AU
Charmed/Practical Magic AU pt 2
Project Runway Drabble
so far...
41 notes · View notes
wrathbites · 5 months
Link
Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Clark Kent Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, not beta'd we die like SOMEONE apparently, crack and laughs Summary:
It's not often Bruce has visitors. Rarer still for anyone to be a return visitor.
(They're not hiding it, really, it's just that no-one notices. Until they do)
16 notes · View notes
debrouiller · 6 months
Text
spent my whole shower trying to sort out my feelings about ootd lol.
relistening to the ep rn and feeling very reassured that even if ootd isn’t my fav title track they still know how to make bangers—shatter and rising are the typical high quality bsides that i am very into
2 notes · View notes
kuratm · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
i saw this tiktok which talked in depth about the paths in HSR and the people assigned to each path, and wow...lemme tell you, the way they talked about nihility, which is the laziness, meaningless behavior and exhaustion? it truly suits sayu, especially since she fits the exhaustion part...she works so hard for her dream of giving people their voice through music that it exhausts her, yet she doesn't show it.
3 notes · View notes
braveburned · 10 days
Note
Michael doesn’t exactly how to approach this. He knows Gregory’s birthday, he needed it for their… not-so-legitimate legal documents, but he has largely no idea how Gregory feels about it ( based on the fact that the kid hasn’t brought it up beyond that, though, he can guess ). Michael’s history with birthdays doesn’t help in the slightest. Still, he refuses to ignore it, and had luckily paid some attention where Gregory wouldn’t: he’ll return home from school to a couple gifts: two of which are toys he remembers catching Gregory’s eyes lingering on, and the other a thrifted GameCube that came with a handful of classics. “Wasn’t about to let you get off scot-free on your birthday, sorry.” He comments with a small smile. “There’s a bit of cake in the fridge, which might be branded, but I did get it for free.” Aka he stole a Fazbear cake. 
★ — It's not that Gregory had forgotten about his birthday. He'd known the date was approaching with some sort of awareness, but had planned to let it come and go like any other. It's been years since anyone had pretended the date was special for his sake — lucky if a foster family would even offer him a passing ' happy birthday ' throughout the day, and ( unfair as it might have been ) ..... he'd honestly expected the same from Michael.
He hadn't expected him to remember ; didn't think it would strike his memory as something worth keeping track of.
Which is why he's so surprised when he walks home to presents, and glances up as his guardian to see that small smile. Eyes go wide, flickering back towards the toys, and to the fridge when it's mentioned.
"Oh,"
He can feel his cheeks flushing, chest and throat feeling tight, and it's —— embarrassing. He shouldn't feel this excited about his birthday being not only acknowledged, but celebrated by his ( favorite, definitely his favorite of all time ) guardian, but he is, teeth sinking into his lower lip to try and bite back the little smile tugging at them. He's decidedly not looking at Michael as he drops his backpack and steps in to take a closer look at the gifts, eyes sparking with light.
It's when he gets to the GameCube that he finally looks back at Michael, slight tilt to his head.
"What's this?"
1 note · View note
clemencetaught · 8 months
Text
and we'll find some version of okay, one day ( ft. myungdae & hyuk || verse two )
a/n: did someone say hyurick? today is alex ( @jeoseungsaja )'s birthday SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRIENDO :DDDD thank you so much for the all the wonderful stories, muses, smiles, and laughs u've given me ( and all ur friends and ppl on dash ) over the years; i hope this trip around the sun will be a happy one for you!! care you lots <3 &lt;3 <3
Being in a relationship with Hyuk is surprisingly easy.
No, easy, isn’t the right word. ‘Easy’ implies a lack of effort to make what is between them now. ‘Easy’ implies what they have is intuitive when it is anything but. Hindsight is 20/20- it becomes more apparent to Myungdae that perhaps the last five years didn’t have to be as painful.
( He could have told Hyuk what was happening from the beginning. He could have revealed himself to Hyuk when he arrived in Seoul. He could have taken a moment and realized that perhaps keeping this undertaking to himself was only going to cause more grief for all parties involved. Maybe then, Hyuk wouldn’t have gotten fatally stabbed. Maybe Hyuk wouldn’t dissociate, wouldn’t be considered invalid in the eyes of the public, having ‘lost the plot’. The should-haves and could-haves echo in Myungdae’s ears like his ghosts and if Myungdae thinks too hard about it, they’ll start piling the guilt one on top of another, like the stack of essays he still hasn’t graded. And when that happens, the stacks will climb higher and higher like Icarus until it inevitably burns and falls- )
So being in a relationship with Hyuk is not easy.
But it is simple.
Their relationship reminds Myungdae of a heist, except not as nearly meticulously calculated. But the principle is ultimately the same- watch your back and watch your partner’s back. If your partner needs help, even if you can’t do anything, be there for them. Or in Myungdae’s case, in the aftermath.  Wounds are like cats- easy to see, harder to catch in the moment.
Of course, simply being there is a plan too vague for the Black Knight’s standards. It’s a concept with one too many external factors and one too many uncertainties to consider.
And yet somehow, their relationship works.. Actually, it might be even more painless than any heist. Sure, the obstacles come unexpectedly, but the solutions don’t require nearly as much finesse. As a matter of fact, the most effective solutions to their obstacles are much…simpler. Less thinking, more doing in the moment.
For example, Myungdae needs to bolt? Well he can do it, but Hyuk’s going to have to follow him or at the very least find his hiding spot once the smoke bomb has cleared up. Hyuk needs space after an episode of derealization? Catch Myungdae lingering just around the corner, waiting to be let in. Myungdae doesn’t mind the wait either.
He’s always been good at abiding for time- most times.
There’s still more to figure out about each other though. It’s not like they can go back five years. And no single conversation is going to give Myungdae everything he needs to know about his dear…friend? Partner?
( Myungdae decides he’s not going to think about that right now- he’s also not going to say anything about it to anyone. Nell and Alfred already have their suspicions, and god forbid if Quinn and Taiyang found out. Myungdae already wants to stab the latter two whenever they cross paths. And he doesn’t need one more tempting reason. Not that he thinks Hyuk would mind too much- okay, maybe Hyuk would. A quirk of being part of law enforcement, but no one’s perfect. )
Besides, Hyuk reveals himself in layers- like a book, one page at a time. It’s an incorrect metaphor, the open book one, Myungdae can’t help but think. An open book implies all the facts and details laid out, plain and easy to interpret. That’s no book. Or at least not a novel- to read a novel and understand it in its entirety takes more than one read-thru. It takes turning one page at a time, studying every scene and word to comprehend how it contributes to the whole, making careful annotations in the margins, and recalling the most vivid of phrases and moments to truly know a book.
And isn’t that what Myungdae and Hyuk have been doing all this time?
Granted, once more, that isn’t to say it’s been easy. Old habits are, well, the cliché could not be more accurate- old habits die hard. Like how Hyuk still zones out for hours on end without saying a word to anyone and how he’s given up on art in favor of reading and rereading files with yellowed papers on cases that have lost relevance years ago. Or how Myungdae refuses to show skin in front of anyone and how he barely reads and  reads only for necessity.
Or how they both still have nightmares. 
Sharpened teeth need to sink in somewhere. If not someone else, then themselves. Maybe those habits will never die. Maybe even if they have each other, they’ll never be okay, never be whole once more.
Nevertheless-
“Your hair’s getting long,” Myungdae murmurs, hand carding through Hyuk’s hair. It’s a Sunday at an hour too early to be awake and of course, they’re in Hyuk’s office. Myungdae didn’t sleep well the previous night and he suspects it’s the same for Hyuk, from the way he couldn’t stop moving. Or the way Myungdae heard him gasp in the middle of the night, only to curl a little tighter against him on the sofa bed.
( Of the new couch- the old one, that two seater with deflated green cushions and scratchy fabric that must have been repurposed from a potato sack, Hyuk had replaced not too long ago. Myungdae won’t admit that he likes the new one- a three seater with chenille fabric that can fold out into a bed- more now that he’s had time to get accustomed. )
Hyuk grumbles, head in Myungdae’s lap. “It already is.” His arm loosely draped around Myungdae’s waist, Hyuk peeks up at him. Myungdae can see the lines under sleep deprived eyes.  “Do you like actually being a pigeon? It’s too early, Dae-yah.” A warm hand finds purchase on Myungdae’s hip as Hyuk groans, groggy. “Lie down.” 
Next to me, Myungdae can hear from the breeze blowing in. The lilies of the valley on the window sill jingle, tinkling and singing.
“You should get it trimmed.” Myungdae says instead, fingers tangling themselves between the strands of hair. They’re smooth. Fresh-smelling too like his shampoo. “It’ll get in your way.”
Hyuk flips to his back and looks up at Myungdae. “Don’t need to.”
“It falls over your eyes when you’re reading.” An observation, on Myungdae’s part. Hyuk grumbles.
“Doesn’t matter.” Which is translation for ‘I’m fine’. But Myungdae knows this is Hyuk’s way of saying, ‘I don’t want to.’
‘I can’t.’ 
Myungdae tilts his head, thinking as his fingers knead down to the scalp. What would make Hyuk steer away from hairdressers? How does this connect to the full picture of his dear friend now?
There are still so many things he has to learn about Lee Hyuk.
“...What If I did it?”
Hyuk raises a brow and suddenly, the window where the lilies of the valley sit looks very tempting to jump through.  It would take him, say, eleven seconds to through the window if he doesn’t grab his jacket with the smoke bombs along the way. 
“Do you even know how to cut hair?” Hyuk asks. It’s not a ‘yes’ but it’s not a ‘no’ either. 
It’s a silly overreaction, Myungdae realizes he just had. Myungdae could ask Hyuk a question and Hyuk would give him the truth. This is the way it’s always been- they don’t, or rather they can’t lie to each other. Sooner or later, the truth comes out and that’s a lesson Myungdae has been learning the hard way. 
They probably need to have a conversation about that sooner or later.
But once again, it is a Sunday at an hour way too early to be awake. This time, they can take the detour. Hyuk might think there’s no time like the present these days, but Myungdae is more than content to take the roundabout way.
“If I can use a sword, a pair of scissors can’t be any worse.” Myungdae says. It’s a half-lie. Hyuk still looks at him skeptically. “I’ll cut straight- you won’t lose more than a few inches.”
Hyuk huffs, a loose strand still landing in front of his eyes. Myungdae tucks it behind his ear. “...I’ll think about it. But on one condition-” Myungdae yelps. Rolling off of his lap, Hyuk half-coaxes, half-wrestles him into the spot next to him. Alarm rolls in, only to recede once Hyuk’s hand presses against his back and Myungdae is once more face-to-face with his dear friend.
“We rest for longer.” Hyuk finally finishes, triumphant.
“We’ll have to get up soon.” Myungdae points out. “Nell is no good in the kitchen. Hiro’s going to complain.”
Hyuk huffs. “They can wait a few hours. Who gets up at six on a Sunday morning, huh? Huh?”
Myungdae snorts, a hand carding through Hyuk’s hair, his fingertips padding against his scalp. Hyuk leans into it and sighs in approval. “Okay. Just a few more hours then. We can get up later.” 
Yes, between the two of them, they still have a lot of problems and no actual solutions: ANACHRON is still at large, Hyuk’s caseload never dies down, and the Black Knight still has heists to execute. 
Hyuk still zones out and Myungdae still doesn’t relax for any occasion. But at the same time, Hyuk doodles more now and his derealization episodes come around less often. And Myungdae sometimes wears short-sleeved shirts and will even pick up a short story to read for leisure.
It’s not quite perfect, but it’s progress.
The lilies of the valley tinkle in the sunlight. Myungdae presses closer to Hyuk- maybe they’ll never go back to the way they were before, maybe they’ll never have something easy, but if they have each other, they can be something like okay, one day.
.
.
.
fin.
0 notes
fandom-go-round · 7 months
Text
Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3
Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love
Astarion:
            He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.
Gale:
            He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.
Halsin:
            Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.  
Karlach:
            She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.
Lae’zel:
Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.
Shadowheart:
            Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.
Wyll:
            You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.
6K notes · View notes
kamipyre · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
@jeoseungsaja sent in:
"Miss Nakamura! There you are," Jae-Hwan peeks in with a smile, fully entering Detective Lee's office that seems to be...quite empty, with exception of Suki's presence of course, "a little...grumpy hedgehog told me that today's your birthday, so, in honor of such a special day!" They leave two presents near Suki, one medium-sized and the other a smaller one. "This one's from me," they point at the medium-sized gift, where she'll find an oversized, knitted sweater inside the bag that's conveniently pink all around, "and that one is from Detective Lee. I don't know what it is, he just gave it to me so I could give it to you." It's a little box with a ribbon (that's neatly made; he hasn't lost his touch, it seems) and a bracelet inside. "BUT! Good news, he's going to join us for lunch today, his treat, can you believe it?" They smile. "Look at him, showing his soft heart. It is a special day, after all."
(aND ANOTHER ONE WIEDHIWDEH I HAD TO, PLS FEEL FREE TO IGNORE ANY OF THIS, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVELIEST ORIGAMI MACHINE, I ADORE HER AND I ADORE YOU!!!) || the paper machine’s birthday!! ( ft. unprompted. )
One of the good things about moving to Seoul ( even if it is only temporary ), is that for once, at least for this year, she can escape the ghosts of a past she can’t return to. A new city means no expectations. No memories to compare this year to. No nostalgia to cling to unlike in, years past.
( She remembers how her birthday celebrations went for the past two years- ALONE, with a single cupcake with a lit candle and if she’s lucky, a birthday text from a former co-worker or two who were probably on lunch break when they sent it. Not that she blames them. She was like that once. )
But this year, in this foreign country, in this city where both her Korean and Hangul still need work, it seems that for once, she won’t be alone for the occasion. Setting the watering can on the windowsill by the pot of lilies of the valley ( because Lee insists on keeping it alive and well, it’s kinda hard for him to do that all by himself if he’s almost always thinking about the case ), she holds her hands out only to find not one, but two boxes in her hands.
Jae-hwan, it doesn’t surprise her that he would remember, let alone take it upon themselves to find out, but Lee? Not that she doesn’t think he’s a bad boss ( or friend for that matter ), but well, considering that he barely remembers to sleep and eat, BIRTHDAYS would be the last thing on his mind.
Still.
A special day. A day for her with people who not only remembered but also want to celebrate it with her.
Tumblr media
That hasn’t been the scenario for a very long time. Opening both presents in front of them, she slips the bracelet on before hugging the sweater tightly. They’ve both already done more than enough at this point.
“I want bungeoppang after lunch,” she announces, voice muffled by the sweater. She peeks up at Jaehwan. “They say it tastes better with friends.”
0 notes
shutterandsentence · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
“The LORD replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”
-- Exodus 23:12
Photo: My House
1 note · View note
girlgenius1111 · 17 days
Text
to be worthy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
and impromptu mother's day fic in the sol-verse it's a difficult day. and a weird day. but it's also a day for family, and for people stepping up to take roles they didn't have to. a day for love, really. angst. but also sickeningly fluffy.
You’d never second guessed yourself more than you were in that moment, parked outside the flower shop, watching people enter and exit the building. It was barely 7am, and you had been there for almost a half hour already. Just sitting. Just thinking. 
Mother’s day. It hadn’t ever been your favorite day. No matter what you did or bought or made, your mom was never very happy with you. She didn’t want anything you could give to her. She didn’t even really want you around. She wanted Ingrid with her on the day, and she always made that very clear. 
This year was obviously… very different. Different because you weren’t speaking to your mother, and you didn’t have to get her anything. You didn’t have to write lies down in a card about how much she meant to you, or buy a gift she’d throw out in a few days anyway. You didn’t have to do any of that; there was no pretending this year, and you weren’t really sure what to feel about that. 
It was suddenly a day with no obligations, but then again… not really. Because if anyone in the world deserved to be celebrated it was Ingrid, and it was Mapi. 
Ingrid was your sister. Mapi was your sister's girlfriend. You knew this. It just felt… inexplicably wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging all they had done for you, all they were doing for you. There was no… older-sister-acting-as-your-parental-figure-day. You were left with this sunday in may, a day that already made your heart ache. Now, you were terribly anxious, too. You didn’t want to overstep, nor did you want to… understep? Too little, too much. Not enough.
Logically, you knew that Ingrid and Mapi would probably be completely fine with anything you chose to get them. You weren’t feeling very logical, though, so you grabbed your phone, and called someone you knew would be. 
“Hi älskling,” Frido greeted, suppressing a yawn. It was quite early for her to be answering the phone, but she wasn’t in the business of not answering calls from you. If you were calling, it was important. 
“Frido, does Ingrid like flowers?” You asked, nervously cracking your knuckles. 
“Flowers? Everyone likes flowers, Solstråle. Why?” 
“I just… I wanted to get her and Mapi something, and I don’t know what to get. I don’t want it to be too much or too little, or ugly or stupid or something they don’t like and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable but-”
The words rushed out of your mouth like someone had turned on a faucet, and Frido sighed, now understanding what you were so stressed about. 
“Hey, Solstråle, relax.” She interrupted. “Flowers are good. Ingrid likes daisies I think. And Mapi loves pink roses. It’s not weird, it’s not too much, or too little. They’ll be happy with anything, really. Don’t overthink it.” 
“Right. Okay. Daisies and pink roses. I can do that.” 
“I know today isn’t the easiest for you, but just try to remember-”
“I have to go Frido, sorry. Thank you, I appreciate you.” You said quickly, not really wanting to get into that  at the moment. The Swede sighed, hoping you’d relax a bit as the day went on, and as you got a good reaction to your gift. 
------
Dropping the flowers off at home, along with the cards you’d gotten, and fleeing hadn’t been your best idea in retrospect. The idea of being with them… when they say what you’d gotten for them and when they read their cards… was nauseating. Sickening. Horrifying. You wouldn’t be doing that. 
You set everything up on the counter, grabbed Scout’s leash and Scout himself, and headed out the door, intending to spend the morning at a cafe just down the street. You had your computer and some school work to finish, which seemed like as good of a distraction as any. 
Back home, Ingrid was lying awake in her bed, as she had been for a few hours. It was only when Mapi rolled over into her, her head clunking against Ingrid’s shoulder, that the Norwegian realized it was probably past time to get up. 
“Morning.” Mapi grumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of her girlfriend’s shoulder. 
“Good morning,” Ingrid replied softly. The single word, dripping with anxiety, was enough for Mapi to lift her head and blink groggily at the other woman. 
“Something wrong?” She asked. 
“It’s mother’s day.” Ingrid whispered, tears inexplicably clouding her vision. Mapi was sitting up in a flash, pulling the younger woman into her chest. Ingrid nuzzled close to the soft t-shirt Mapi was wearing, inhaling the comforting scent of the woman she loved. 
“Mi amor,” Mapi sighed. “I know, it’s a hard one right now. You don’t have to call her, though. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can cancel lunch with my mom, stay here with Solstråle. We can pretend it isn’t mothers day.” 
Ingrid shook her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “No, your mom deserves to be celebrated. We’ll go to lunch. I want to give Solstråle some space today, but I’m worried about her. And I don’t want to call my mom. That would be like… betraying my sister. I don’t want to speak to that woman. She doesn't deserve it.”
“Okay.” Mapi agreed, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. The Norwegian’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and she relaxed into her girlfriend once again. “We’ll keep an eye on our Sol, and we’ll be quick at lunch. And you can have as many hugs as you want.” 
“Can’t I always?” Ingrid asked with a small smile. 
“You have a point.” Mapi chuckled. “I am going to go make you a coffee, be right back.” 
With that, she rose from the bed, pressing a quick kiss to Ingrid’s lips, heading for the kitchen. Ingrid stayed in bed, worrying about you and how you’d act today, until she heard Mapi call out for her in a strangely choked voice. She was out of bed within a second, rushing down the hall towards her girlfriend. 
“What?! What is it?!” Ingrid shouted, sliding in her socks on the wood floor into the kitchen, looking around frantically. 
She saw Mapi first, staring with tears in her eyes at a little card that had the Spaniard’s name on it. She saw the two vases next, sitting precisely in the middle of the counter. One with daisies, one with pink roses. There was a card with Ingrid’s name on it on the counter, too, and it wasn’t hard for Ingrid to connect the dots. Her first concerns were with her girlfriend, though, who’s lip was wobbling dangerously, as she blinked rapidly down at the card in her hand. 
“María?” Ingrid murmured. “Baby, are you-?”
Mapi blindly reached a hand out towards Ingrid, a hand that the Norwegian took. Gently, Ingrid rubbed her girlfriend’s back, reading the card over her shoulder when Mapi tilted it slightly in her direction. 
María,
It’s mother’s day, and it didn’t feel right to let today go by without telling you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You allowed me into your home without a second thought. You met my stubbornness and hostility with love and kindness, and I will forever be grateful to you for that. You love Ingrid so deeply, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner for my sister. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be as good of a person as you are. I hope you like your flowers, and I hope you know how much you mean to me.
Love, Solstråle.
By the time Ingrid had finished reading, Mapi had turned in her arms, burying her face in the crook of Ingrid’s neck, and was sobbing quietly. They were happy tears, Ingrid realized. Emotional, but happy. Ingrid couldn’t do much but hold Mapi tightly to her, and press kisses into the top of her head. 
“She means every word, you know? And she’s right. You are the best person I know, the kindest, the most loving. You deserve the flowers, María.” 
That set off another round of tears, bringing a small laugh out of Ingrid, always astounded and impressed by how emotionally… healthy her girlfriend was. 
“Damn you Engens. Making me cry.” Mapi huffed, using Ingrid’s shirt to wipe her tears away. 
Ingrid took her girlfriend’s face in her hands, carefully kissing her lips. “Because we love you very much.” 
“Cut it out, Ingrid.” Mapi complained, though she was smiling shyly. “Open your card, I want you to cry.” 
Ingrid laughed, reaching for her own card, though she hesitated before opening it. Mapi had moved to get the coffees going, but turned to glance at Ingrid when she fell silent. 
“Open it.” Mapi encouraged, turning away to give Ingrid space to read. 
It was another little card, in your big handwriting, a bit longer than Mapi’s. Ingrid took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears before she even started reading. 
Ingrid,
Mother’s day is weird now. It kind of always has been, but I’m sure it’s weird for you now, too. I hope today isn’t too difficult for you. You are a lot more to me than a sister. I’ve always looked up to you, always seen you as a role model. And I still feel that way. Now, though, you’ve taken me in and been so patient with me. More patient than I deserve. I feel safe here, with you. For the first time in a really long time. Safe and loved, in a way I had kind of forgotten existed. Ingrid, you changed my life. You saved my life, too. I’ve never felt very worthy of love or care, but it’s so readily available here. And if someone as good as you thinks that I am worthy of your love, your time, your attention, then I must be. At least a little bit. There aren’t enough flowers in the world to express how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you Ingrid. Really, just thank you. I love you very much, even if I don’t always show it or say it. 
Love, Solstråle. 
And now Ingrid was crying, and Mapi was abandoning the coffee to pull her into a tight hug, and you were walking in through the front door at just the perfect time. You had just barely unclipped Scout’s harness before you were being forcibly pulled upright into some kind of suffocating group hug.
And normally, something like this would have probably made you uncomfortable. You felt yourself melting into the hug, though, before you really knew what you were doing. Embarrassment flooded you. Regret flooded you. Because even though the hug was nice, you felt dangerously exposed. Dangerously vulnerable. 
------
You insisted that Ingrid and Mapi go to lunch with Mapi’s parents and her brother, without you. Both girls tried to explain, while respecting your privacy as much as possible, why you had stayed home, although Mapi’s mother was rather insistent that she wanted you at lunch, too. You were part of the family, after all. 
It was only when you were home alone, curled up on the couch with Scout, that the reality really hit, that questions you didn’t want to consider really started to flood into your brain. 
Had they really liked the flowers? The cards? There wasn’t much time to talk, as they’d had to get ready for lunch, and both of them had clearly been crying. Maybe… maybe they didn’t really like what you had to say? Maybe you were putting pressure on them to be something they weren’t. It was so easy for you to spiral into self doubt when you were left to your own devices. 
Should you have called your mom? 
No matter how much time passed. No matter how many times Ingrid and Mapi told you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that she had been the issue. You were pretty sure you’d always blame yourself, at least a little. You’d spent so long thinking you were at fault, and that kind of thinking was hard to break out of. Knowing that you weren’t to blame, and really believing it were two different things. And something was easier about blaming yourself. Safer. 
Maybe you should have called. Maybe you should take the first step. She was your mother, after all, and you only had one. You couldn’t help the guilt that began to suffocate you, the insecurity, the self hatred. 
You wished you could just hear Ingrid and Mapi tell you that they loved you, that you were a good person, and believe it. You were kind of afraid, though, that you’d never fully believe that. 
The best thing to do, the most logical thing, was to shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day. So you took Scout and some snacks and buried yourself under as many blankets as you could, tucked away in your room. A closed door between you, and the avalanche of emotions and feelings you’d let out earlier in your cards. 
Too vulnerable. You’d been too vulnerable, and there was no taking it back, and that was terrifying. Being vulnerable in the first place wasn’t easy, but not wanting to die afterwards was even harder. 
-------
Ingrid and Mapi returned from lunch to find the house dead silent. Your bedroom door was tightly shut, and when Ingrid peaked her head in, you had been pretending to be asleep. So, she headed for the living room, tucking herself into the corner of the couch, thought after thought running through her head. 
Had she been too emotional with you earlier? Had you not really meant what you’d said in your letter? Were you just trying to be nice? Ingrid had learned not to push you before you were ready for something, and she felt like today, she had. She should have played it cooler, not made it as big of a deal. 
And, fuck, she should have called her mom. 
She shouldn’t have, but she should have, and there was no correct answer in her head. Either decision made her feel like she was being bad. A bad daughter or a bad sister. 
And now she was being a bad girlfriend, because Mapi had been trying to get her attention for several minutes, and she’d been too spaced out to notice. 
“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, this time reaching out to grab onto her girlfriend’s hand and squeezing. 
“Sorry, sorry. I was distracted.” Ingrid said. “What?”
“I checked on Sol. She seems upset. You should go up there and talk to her.” 
“No, no, today has been a lot for her, she has to process her emotions.” Ingrid said, shaking her head. “She doesn’t want to see me right now.”
Mapi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly. The two of you were both hyper aware of the others’ feelings while simultaneously being too afraid to actually talk about said feelings. You needed each other, today, and Mapi was done trying to get you to figure that out yourselves. 
“Enough of this. Vamos.” She stated decisively, standing up from the couch, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and pulling. Ingrid groaned her annoyance, but went somewhat willingly.
Mapi dragged her up the stairs, knocking on your door before entering upon your response. You were still on your bed, trying to hide the evidence of your almost constant tears, when Mapi entered the room with Ingrid in tow. 
“Alright. Both of you need the other right now. Sol, Ingrid isn’t mad at you. Ingrid, Sol isn’t mad at you. Everything is fine. Stop overthinking.” And with that, paired with a small shove to Ingrid’s back, pushing the Norwegian in your direction, Mapi looked between you two expectantly. 
You looked very cautiously, but also somewhat hopefully, up at your sister. 
Ingrid looked at you similarly, taking a hesitant step closer to the bed. “What do you need, Solstråle?” She asked, determined, at least, that you get better about asking for what you needed. If it was space, she'd respect that. And if it was a hug? Well. Good. Because she really needed one too.
You shifted slightly, lifting one of your arms in a half gesture. “Sit with me?” You requested. 
Relief flooded Ingrid’s face as she all but launched herself onto the bed next to you, instantly pulling you into a tight hug. You were relieved, too, that you hadn’t been too much for either of them. That your love in return wasn’t too much. Your mom had always made you feel like it was suffocating, the way you tried to get her to pay attention to you and love you.
Ingrid and Mapi never did that. They just… gave you what you needed, without a second thought. Before anything else. As you sat squished in between the two of them, listening to all the details from the lunch you’d skipped, you realized that all you’d needed today was Ingrid. Being with Ingrid and Mapi made your head go quiet. There wasn’t room for doubt when they were on either side of you. Mapi trying ridiculously hard to make you laugh. Ingrid combing her fingers through your hair without a second thought. 
You fit here, in this family. With them. They told you you fit, that you were wanted, and that was something that was getting more and more believable as time went on. You had a family, and even if you didn’t really have a mother to celebrate today, you had two people who put you before anything else. People that loved you more than your mother had. You had a family, again. And that was really something to celebrate. 
------
:) happy mothers day to everyone who celebrates, and to everyone that doesn't.
however you feel is valid. if today is hard, or if today is easy, there will always be tomorrow, and tomorrow will be even better.
<3
665 notes · View notes
onboardsorasora · 8 months
Text
F1 Flufftober - Day 25 Love Letters
Please don't judge me for doing these out of order lol (thanks @arturleclerc and @danielverstappen for the little push) (edit to say that this is also the same universe as this and this as well)
Max dragged himself into the entryway, allowing the front door to snap closed behind him. He left his luggage by the door, he would get to it later.
The cats wandered forward, welcoming him home from his long time away. He'd been out on a triple header and was glad to be home. He wanted to throw himself on the couch and stroke his cats and get forehead kisses from his boyfriend.
Who wasn't home.
Right.
Max grumbled to himself, standing with Jimmy in his arms and walking further into their home. He was tired and Daniel wasn't home because he was back at the factory. He'd be back in a few days because this was an unfortunate overlap of their travel schedules while Daniel was back off the grid. 
Stupid metacarpal, who needed those bones anyway??
Throwing himself on the couch as initially planned Max's brow furrowed as he heard the crinkle of paper beneath his head. Shifting quickly, he spied a square of yellow paper – a post it note. Odd.
Grabbing the out of place stationary, he recognized Daniel's looping handwriting.
You amaze me every day.
Max smiled softly, rereading the words and imprinting them on his brain. He reached over to stick it on the coffee table, fully intending to take it into the bedroom and preserve it in some way. He stopped short when he saw another sticky note attached to his controller.
Never forget how special you are.
Max tucked his head to his neck, feeling the blush bloom on his cheeks. He took a picture of both and texted them off to Daniel with a message that he was home.
Daniel
Oh, you haven't found them all😸
Max paused…all? He stood quickly from the couch and gave the living, dining and kitchen areas a glance over and noticed at least two more sticky notes. 
He would never admit to how quickly he rushed over to grab both notes. Not on Jimmy or Sassy's life. But his stomach swooped, eyes roving over the messages.
Never forget how proud of you I am
I will always love you 
Max walked dazedly into their bedroom, collecting a few more notes of love, respect and adoration from Daniel. He felt overwhelmed with love for his boyfriend. Wanting nothing more than to lay on top of him and kiss him soundly.
But he couldn't. Because Daniel wasn't here. 
So instead, he padded to his sim room and plopped ungainly into the chair. There was one last note– he combed the flat and found no more. And his heart flipped, wondering just what else he would find.
He was completely overflowing with affection for Daniel. And he currently didn't have an outlet for it. He'd texted again but Daniel was back in the sim so he wouldn't be getting an answer any time soon. 
Grabbing the last note that was hanging innocently from his overhead screen, Max let out a choked laugh. 
The kind that happened when Daniel said something unexpected in their old PR videos. The kind that cracks his face open in joy. Max folded over, his boisterous laugh calling the cats in curiously. 
Max truly loved his boyfriend. He loved that man with his whole being and he couldn't wait for him to get home.
We're out of
Eggs
Beer
Bread
Yogurt
Hand soap for the guest bathroom 
92 notes · View notes
chuunai · 5 months
Note
Hi hi! Would love to participate in your event if that’s cool
I was wondering if we could hav a Fyodor with scenario 2 and prompt 14
Idk if you want more details but I discovered your blog and I kinda got baby fever too sooooooo
Fire away friend
I’m sorry for making you sick : (
✧˚ · . my days are yours, yours - fyodor dostoevsky
how can a baby control his heart?
Tumblr media
summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), babies, babies and babies, SFW → minor mentions of death and overall fyodor trying to be a daddy while juggling killing the entire world. Spoilers for the last episode of BSD season five and the latest chapters of the manga.
Tumblr media
Lord, she looked so much like him.
Rounded purple eyes and thick strands of black hair, she was his copy. Of course, genetically speaking, she was half his. And half yours. But Fyodor had a greater influence on your baby daughter. A squirming seven month old named Avdotya Fyodorovna Dostoevskya. Ironic, wasn’t it? That his child’s name meant good while he was evil?
It made sense, though. Yin and yang.
Putting down his pen, Fyodor looked over at the small makeshift crib that was next to his desk. In it was the sleeping Avdotya—Dunya, for short—wrapped up in cozy blankets and stuffed animals.
He’d worked enough for today.
Carefully picking up the newborn, his pale anemic hands cradled her, supporting her head as he held her to his chest. His heart sped up a bit when Dunya stirred a bit, but she ultimately didn’t wake up. She looked so calm and content in the moment. Fyodor shared the same feelings. Besides awe, of course.
For all of his planning and manipulation, he had never planned for a baby.
Sure, you were his wife, but he’d always use protection. An infant wouldn’t work with his current dangerous plans. Yet he somehow managed to knock you up. A completely unplanned variable in his plans. Yet it seemed so right. As a man of god, Fyodor couldn’t deny the blessing that God gave him.
His study door soon freaked open by your arrival as you quietly walked behind him, arms sliding around his neck in a tired way as your cheek pressed against the fluffy material of his ushanka.
“She’s doing okay?”
As if his little angel would ever be harmed.
“Of course, дорогой.”
He replied in an equally hushed tone. He turned his head slightly to the left, placing a gentle peck on your arm affectionately. For someone who regularly manipulated people who trusted him (albeit in a scared way), he could never find himself using you or his newfound family for his plans. God would disapprove of a man who hurt his family.
“You should rest. I’ll watch over her.”
It was only fair.
You had been watching Dunya constantly—babysitters and nannies couldn’t be hired due to his prolific crime record—while he was gone setting up his plans and relations. Fyodor had seen you cry over the stress multiple times. Each time he reassured you all would be better in due time. And it would be. When all the sinners of the world were gone, angels like you and Avdotya would be safe.
In the meantime though, he’d make you as happy as he could.
Feeling a gentle kiss on his cheek, Fyodor faintly smiled as you left for some much needed relaxation and sleep. Tucking his baby’s hair behind her tiny ears, he hummed a small lullaby.
He remembered that as a child his mother would sing some to him. It was one of the few comforting memories he had.
And his Avdotya should have the same experience.
Reaching the second verse of the lullaby, his deep voice quietly filled the room. He slowly rocked his baby, warmth flooding through his usually cold body. A peck on her perfect head.
He’d have to teach you these sorts of lullabies and cradle songs. While you knew a bit of Russian—limited to affectionate nicknames and general greetings—, you could do better. Perhaps you two could study together when Avdotya would nap. Him struggling with kanji, and you resting your head on his shoulder as you stared at Russian characters and committed them to memory.
Fyodor relaxed back into his chair, content with the familial moment.
The finale soon came.
He sat there for minutes afterwards, just taking in the sight of the life he created. Dazai was wrong. Fyodor was no demon, no, he was a god. He had created life, and so had God. And while others may point out the billions of other parents in the world, he’d merely dismiss their claims. They had birthed normal children.
Not an angel like his Dunya.
Could other children have such awe-inspiring eyes? Or the affinity she had for music just like her father—how she babbled and cooed in your lap while he played cello for the two of you. He knew she’d grow up to be something great like him. A firstborn always took after their father, in his opinion.
Standing up with little Avdotya in his arms, he walked to the nursery, passing by your shared bedroom where you were sleeping by now. Creaking open the door, he carefully navigated the dark room, lowering his daughter into her crib before carefully covering her with a warm blanket and her favorite stuffed toy.
A fuzzy penguin gifted by Sigma.
A lot of the nursery’s decorations were bought by Fyodor, but there were a few given by his fellow DOA members. Sadly, a majority of Nikolai’s gifts had to be scrapped. Dunya couldn’t use clown makeup or the miniature cherry bombs. A pity, really.
Fatherhood suited Fyodor rather well.
Flicking on a small nightlight, he soon left after a goodbye to his daughter. His footsteps pattered on the wooden floor, making his way to your bedroom to finally sleep off the day’s events.
Once again, the door slowly creaked open as he walked in. He already had his pajamas on—a baggy long black shirt and some black pants—, sliding into bed next to you as one hand found itself on your stomach, the other already playing with your hair. Fyodor admired your body. It grew his angel, and now it nourished her.
While you were adamant that you looked worse after birth, he could only say the opposite. All of the Renaissance paintings and sculptures had been wrong in their depictions of goddesses and heavenly figures. He could only see you as a true goddess who fell for a sinner like him.
Would such a goddess permit him to have another child with her?
Fyodor had grown up in a small family back in St. Petersburg. Just him and his mother. His father had left him long ago.
He didn’t want Avdotya to feel the same. Lonely.
Siblings would prevent that. Maybe two? Even three, if you felt up for it. He hadn’t said anything about it since you were still recovering and getting used to being a mother just to one child, but he oh so badly wanted a bigger family. More look a-likes of him and you.
“My goddess.”
His lips nuzzled against your hair, murmuring sweet affections and praise. Even he couldn’t have predicted such a thing like this. A wife. A daughter. A family of his own.
And even when weeks later he was stuck in Meursault with four other men playing Nikolai’s twisted game of escape, he thought about you. The plan would work, and he’d see you again after he faked his death. Sure, it might take weeks or months, but he’d come back. He’d made sure of it—having thought of the betrayal of his subordinates a while ago.
And when Dazai would later tug his severed arm out of the helicopter’s crash site, it wouldn’t have a ring on the ring finger.
That ring would be snugly set on his other hand.
They could take his body, his wealth, his intelligence.
But they couldn’t take him away from you and the vow you two had made. Until death do you part.
Tumblr media
Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx
Help this took so long
445 notes · View notes
Note
Going flower picking with Sebek, Vil, and Rook, seperately please, headcanons or just a drabble is fine! gn reader :3
Flower-Picking the Heart
Characters; Sebek Zigvolt, Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Rollo Flamme
Content; Gender-neutral reader, fluff, pining, hurt/comfort, unresolved feelings
Word Count; 1.4 K (headcanon format)
Author's Note; I included Rollo since you mentioned that you also wanted to include him. I included some of the symbolism behind the flowers, but may miss some; so do be mindful of that! Also deviated a bit, but still stayed on prompt!
Do not put my work into AI. If you would like to read more of my work, please see my masterlist
Tumblr media
Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek was standing by your side in the flower garden; this was supposed to be a relaxed day with no duties or responsibilities demanding your attention. Yet, his back was as straight as ever as the both of you slowly made your way through the botanical garden.
You nudged him in the arm, trying to get his attention, only to garner him giving you the side eye and letting out a quiet grunt.
“Hey, you were the one that wanted to come to the botanical garden,” you offer, giving him your own side eye to rival the one he was sending you.
Sebek sighed, silently questioning why Lilia recommended the garden as a hang-out spot (no, it wasn’t a date as Lilia taunted, that’s what Sebek told himself anyway).
“I don’t need to explain myself,” he said in a clipped tone, but he was eyeing the floral displays.
For today they could pick a single bloom, and he was set on getting the best flower for the dorm; a rose that could belong back at the queen’s rose garden! That’s what Sebek had originally thought he was going to do.
That was until you went over to one of the displays and plucked a flower, and gave it to him with an expectant look.
“What is this for,” he nearly shouted, paying mind to control his voice since others were also attending the showcase and he didn’t want to bring prying eyes to this situation.
You tucked a bright blue bloom into his chest pocket, a bright, cheery, contrast against the black of his jacket. A single morning glory blossom.
You hummed, “No reason. It just spoke to me is all.”
A simple honest answer. But why did it cause his ears to burn?
A favour. I cannot owe them a favour for this! So he did the same, looking among the vast amount of blooms until he chose a pale pink peony, shoving it into your hands.
You eyed the flower, and put it into your chest pocket, to match with him. “Alright then, where to now?” Where will we go? Will we continue in this or will we grow into something else? 
Flower Language - Morning glory; willful promise, affection - Peony; bravery, bashful, happy life, shame
Vil Schoenheit
Vil had received flowers countless times before, so many times that he had honestly lost count. He was also versed in both flower and overall plant toxicology, but also flower language itself.
This flower-picking trip was originally supposed to be for him to restock for both the school (since Professor Crewel trusted him) and his own stock for potions.
And you just so happened to be there, giving him a small wave from where you were collecting your own flowers.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Vil offered, walking over to where you were. “Hard at work I see.”
Vil took note of the flowers in your basket, as well as the dirt on your hands; it was charming. Daffodils and pansies? That’s odd, I didn’t take them as the sort to make poison… Hopefully, they do remember that daffodils are toxic and pansies are fine—
“Good to see you too,” you chirped, dusting off your hands from the dry dirt. You took note of his own basket and patted the ground next to you. “Come on then, join me.”
Vil looked at you and without much thought or other prompting, he knelt beside you in the sea of yellow daffodils. “What are you planning to do with those,” he asked, gently clipping a yellow bloom from its stalk.
You paused, a white flower in your hand. “I was going to give them to someone special to me,” you said quietly, deciding to be honest.
“Hm, you must hold this person in high regard then,” Vil eyed you curiously since the long stalks of the daffodils looked quite awkward next to the pansies. “Respect, regard, unequalled love,” he said, holding a daffodil. “Thoughtful and caring,” he looked at the pansies, before looking to you.
“I do, and he is,” you answered, hoping that he hadn’t caught on to your little plan.
Well, he didn’t until he came back to the dorm to find the flowers in a vase. For Vil; I suppose you already know what these mean. And he did.
Flower Language - Daffodil; respect, regard, unequalled love - Pansy; thoughtful, caring
Rook Hunt
“Rook, where exactly are you taking me,” you asked him, facing in his direction (or at least you hoped you were facing his direction since he had handed you a blindfold to “make the surprise be meaningful”).
Rook just gave you the answer he had given you the entire way, “You’ll see soon, Trickster.”
Eventually, the two of you did stop and Rook took off the blindfold.
Flowers, flowers everywhere. Of every shape and colour. They were blooming everywhere.
You were silent for a few moments, just taking everything in. The slight irritation that you were blindfolded slipped to the back of your brain (you could be annoyed with him later) and you watched hummingbirds and fat bees flit from flower to flower.
“What do you think,” Rook asked you quietly, not wanting to break the spell you seemed to be under.
You looked back at him, and a breathy chuckle left your lips. “What do I think? It’s stunning,” you say in awe.
Rook smiled brightly; either at your reaction or that he was correct in that he thought you would enjoy this.
He didn’t say anything though, and just watched you go about the flower field. Even though he wanted to say so many things, he found that he was for once, speechless.
Looking down for a moment something caught his eye; violets. Next to the gardenias, most would not pay them much mind; but Rook gently plucked a few, alongside a gardenia.
“Rook!” Your shouting snapped him out of his own thoughts, and he looked up. “Am I allowed to pick some?”
He blinked before regaining his usual cheery mask. “Oui, but only a few.”
He eyed the flowers he held in his hands before ultimately setting them back down. For although they spoke the truth, Rook wasn’t yet ready to lay his heart bare; not yet.
Flower Language - Gardenia; you're lovely, secret love - Violet; honesty, watchfulness, modesty, faithfulness
Rollo Flamme
Rollo hated that he could feel his heart beat like a bird trying to escape a cage, yet he found himself next to you again, the very person who caused the anomaly; like a moth to flame.
You were taking a path on the outskirts of the city, silent. And while Rollo was often used to the quiet, it only heightened his nerves, causing his heart to beat faster. 
“Why did you invite me along,” you asked, breaking the silence. 
Rollo faltered in his step before regaining his composure. “While the city is our main attraction, I do find the quiet walkways to be more enjoyable.”
You hummed, eyeing one of the numerous hydrangea bushes that lined the walkway, separating it from a lavender field. “It is rather nice, thank you. Although you can stop your sales pitch on your city.”
Rollo blinked at you, brow slightly furrowed. “Sales pitch?”
“Yeah, like selling all the good points? … Damn, I’ve been spending too much time around some people, sorry.” You felt embarrassed, that you had distrusted him when he was most likely just being proud of his city.
“Hmm,” was all he said, moving along. The silence returned, as Rollo was not the type to make simple small talk or force a conversation where one wasn’t needed.
“Pft,” your sudden outburst of near-silent laughter caught his attention and he stopped, turning to you with a curious look.
“What seems to be funny?” He meant it in a genuine manner, but you just started laughing more which only made him more perplexed. Perhaps the fresh air can do you some harm?
You got a hold of yourself, eyes watering from the wind and your little chuckle fest. “Fleur City, your city is literally flower city, and look what we’re surrounded by; flowers.”
Rollo looked at the flowers and then at you. “It is a bit on the nose, I guess.”
You plucked a hydrangea cluster from the nearest bush and tucked it behind his ear. “But it’s fitting nonetheless.”
If his heart was beating fast before, now his face was sure to be red, and not from the brisk breeze.
Flower Language - Hydrangea; pride, gratitude for being understood, frigidity and heartlessness - Lavender; faithful, distrust
~~~~~~~
Tags; @azulashengrottospiano @bloomstruck @cheezy-moon @eynnwwyjth @ithseem @krenenbaker @lucid-stories @moonsoup01637 @ryker-writes @syrenkitsune @the-v-lociraptor @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii
567 notes · View notes
Note
hello!!! I saw that your requests were open and that you did Sahsr!! Could I request some headcanons with Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Jing Yuan, Blade and Adventurine, hearing the player singing for the first time?
They're singing Loser Baby from Hazbin Hotel to cheer up their friend or singing Addict from the Hazbin Hotel Pilot (including the sad verse) when feeling blue.
Thank youu!
Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like the headcanons!
Fandom: Honkai Star Rail
Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt Yang, Jing Yuan, Blade, Aventurine x gn! Reader
Tumblr media
Caelus was surprised when he first heard you sing but after a moment to appreciate it, he’s not going to be able to resist humming along, immediately blowing his cover.
He’s definitely going to join in when you’re singing songs he knows and likes, whether he’s a good singer or not. If he can make you smile or laugh by doing that, he’s achieved his mission.
But at the same time, he loves hearing your voice alone. He’s especially fond of quiet days where he can relax with you, listening to you sing whatever song comes to mind.
I think Caelus’ favourite Hazbin Hotel song would be “Respectless”. He’s certainly been that a few times on his travels and he loves the sass you put into your voice whenever you sing it.
Tumblr media
Out of everyone, I think Dan Heng would be the only one not surprised to hear you sing. He’s got a lot of knowledge about a lot of things so I think he would be able to tell you’d have a nice singing voice from the way you talk.
However, that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to enjoy listening to you. Whether you notice him or not, he’ll encourage you to keep singing while he works.
Occasionally, he may hum along to a song, but he generally prefers hearing your voice without any other auditory distractions.
This may seem like a strange match at first, but I think Dan Heng would like “Ready for This”. He likes the music, sure, but he also really enjoys hearing how different characters change throughout the song.
Tumblr media
This music lover has found his soulmate. He’s sure of it. Someone who can sing as well as you can is the perfect match for someone who likes listening to singing as much as he does.
If you’re singing to yourself, Welt will do his best to quiet so he doesn’t interrupt you. He wants to keep listening for as long as possible.
He really wants to request songs from time to time but for the most part, he’s happy with whatever you pick.
I can see his favourite Hazbin Hotel song being “More Than Anything” just for the slow loving vibes. He might not be much of a singer, but he would like to duet this song with you.
Tumblr media
Oh, Jing Yuan’s going to be insufferable as soon as he finds out how well you can sing. He’ll always be humming, hinting at you to sing something.
Has fallen asleep listening to you more than once. Thankfully he wasn’t doing anything important at the time…
Jing Yuan definitely has a nice singing voice, so he’d enjoy joining you in your songs sometimes, especially if it’s a duet.
This man loves “Loser, Baby”. That’s all that needs to be said here. He likes how fun it is while still conveying a good message.
Tumblr media
I feel like Blade might be initially indifferent to your singing abilities. They’re not useful in combat so what’s the point of them?
At the same time, he’s likely to sulk around until you feel like singing yourself. As soon as that happens, he’s back on his A-game.
Because even though he claims not to care, Blade loves listening to you sing. There have been few sleeps as good as the ones he’s had after falling asleep to your voice.
Blade’s favourite Hazbin Hotel song is “Hell is Forever”. He originally thought it was going to be edgy and instead ended up really liking it for what it is.
Tumblr media
I haven’t really had a lot of experience with Aventurine either as a character or writing for him so hopefully this isn’t too out of character, but I think he’d love your singing if only because it’s better than the music that plays in game.
Whenever he walks into a building that normally has music playing, he’ll turn it off (somehow) so your voice takes over.
I can’t see him singing along but he might hum a few notes if you’ve been quiet for a while and he wants to hear you sing. He can’t blow his cover, so he’s got s drop subtle hints that he wants you to sing for him.
I think his favourite Hazbin Hotel song would be "Stayed Gone". It seems to match the vibe he’s got going on and I definitely see some similarities between Aventurine and Vox.
164 notes · View notes
xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months
Note
Plzplzplz I need to see reader and bruce meet face to face in disowned verse, I want to see bruce being his emotionally constipated self and reader having none of it. Whenever you have time :)
Dick noted that, while the dogs were happy to see you- whining and making all sorts of happy dog noises, no one barked until they saw him. Making both Bruce and Jason look out the back door, though Jason softened immediately when he saw you holding Pepper and making a fuss over Boris. Lovingly scolding all three dogs for barking at all when you were right there. Bruce's frown deepened for a moment. Clearly, he hadn't expected to have to face Jaybird's other life today.
It was a little funny when you stood upright from distributing pats and snoot boops to see Bruce notice the obvious though. Like he'd forgotten the slide show they've all been shown about how it worked and why it worked and why it was important to one choose your partners responsibly and two be responsible for you health and safety and at all times... Like he ever actually did that in his 20's.
He left space for the dogs to follow you into the house. Like your own little welcome parade- and followed up the rear, shutting the back door behind him and remembering to slip off his shoes. Even if you hadn't this time, snorting a little to himself. You had bigger stuff to worry about, but he wanted to be allowed back to play fun uncle. Dick kicked his shoes out of the way and hurried to the kitchen.
Jason was kissing you hello- not even sticking his tongue down your throat- and Bruce looked uncomfortable. "I didn't know you were coming home for lunch," Jason said, "I just put dinner in the crock pot. I could have made you a sandwich or something too."
"You called me earlier I thought you were bored today, I was gonna put you to work," you pout.
"And it's a slow day at the store too," Jason sighed. Shaking his head as he rubbed your hip. "I'm sorry, Angel." He must have worked you up more than he thought. And now instead of an hour or so of getting pleasantly railed and going back to work relaxed and satisfied you walked into an emotional minefield. God he owed you. He was gonna have to make you come until it got boring.
"You're pregnant," Bruce blurted out.
"Wow, you really are the world's greatest detective," you snap. " pardon me if I don't drop everything to introduce myself to someone who's thrown our lives into an uproar on a whim. If you Sit down and shut up I'll get to you when I'm ready."
"I-" Bruce started
Jason smiled and kissed the side of your head. Not Bruce Wayne, Not the president, not GOD. In your Kitchen as in your shop, your word was LAW. The only place anyone was allowed to outrank you was in the bedroom- and that was when you let them. "I'd do as she says," Jason said, watching you pour glasses of sweet tea and put cookies you'd baked with the kids on a plate. Bruce had been equivocating. Dancing around a lot of things.
But now that you were here. Patently freezing him out. Giving him drinks and snacks because he was there and that was the kind thing to do but otherwise pretending he was a void- treatment BRUCE of all people WAS NOT accustomed to. All while letting him tell Dick about your lives; he found it didn't MATTER about an apology anymore.
Bruce was who he was. And who he was SUCKED at apologies. So what mattered, at least to Jason was if he was ready to accept the apology he got.
265 notes · View notes
phntmeii · 10 months
Text
♡ Dating Miguel O’Hara Headcanons:
Tumblr media
❝ “Spider-Verse”. That’s… stupid. It’s called the Arachnoid Humanoid Poly-Multiverse. Which sounds...stupid, too, I guess. ❝
[SFW+NSFW + Mention of Gendered Term]
NSFW Section Warnings: Explicit Language, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Slight Overstimulation, Primal Play, Praise+Degredation, Marking
A/N: Miguel has my heart and soul ever since I saw him so here’s his list <3 Also there is one mention of a fem pet name but all others are gender neutral or have both masc and fem translations!! So this is able to be read by anyone still!!
Tumblr media
SFW Headcanons:
🕷 Miguel is known for his temper and aggressiveness and it's something he acknowledges in himself as well. He tries to resist lashing out, especially towards you.
🕷 Miguel finds you to be soothing in a way and that's because he knows he shouldn't be upset at you for his own stresses. So subconsciously, the moment he sees you, he calms himself down.
🕷 Peter will definitely encourage you to be around Miguel more often because he sees how you relax him. Cue Peter bringing you in and trying to have you and Mayday tag-team to calm Miguel down.
🕷 Miguel is very private about his love life because he doesn't see why anyone needs to know about that information even if people pry about it.
🕷 The only signs of PDA is really when Miguel feels jealous or overprotective and starts looming over you from behind, staring into whoever you're talking to until they leave.
🕷 Miguel's overprotectiveness can get out of hand sometimes but who can really blame him? He doesn't want to lose anyone else in his life and certainly not now that he had received a second chance to be happy.
🕷 If you're a spiderperson, he's the first to rush up to you and check you entirely for injuries. Even after you say you're fine, he's immediately asking Lyla to check for injuries as well. Lyla will be confused and say you're fine as well and he sighs in satisfaction. But, don't expect to be out of his arms for the next couple hours.
🕷 When in private, he tries to maintain the gentleman-like way he was taught to treat his partner. A real Casanova if you will. It's all flowers, chocolates and pure affection.
🕷 It isn't even because he feels like he needs to since you two are dating but because he wants to shower you with affection, especially knowing how focused he can be in his work. So the moment you two have time alone, he relishes in it.
🕷 And yes, his pet names are in Spanish regardless of if you speak it or not. (EX: Querida/Querido, Mami, Corazón, Princesa/Príncipe. If he’s having a telenovela moment, he’s saying “mi vida” or “mi amor”.)
🕷 After a long day, there's nothing more that he wants then to slump into your body to cuddle. His arms wrapped around you and buried into your chest silently muttering in Spanish about how soft your body is.
🕷 Also, absolutely 100% sleeps and wakes up like a dad. Snoring max volume and then yawning as if he were yelling. (He also sneezes like a dad so warning).
🕷 Miguel’s main Love Languages to give are: Physical Touch and Gift Giving.
🕷 Miguel just LOVES to feel your body. Does not matter body size or type, he’s grabbing onto you because you feel soft and warm in his hands.
🕷 It’s like he can’t get enough of you. In private, there isn’t a moment this he isn’t touching you in some way. Whether it’s small, lazy kisses across your face, holding your hips as you work or just walking with you as his hand is on the small of your back.
🕷 Like I said, not much of a PDA person. You’d have to be the one to initiate it to which in response he’d frown and say you two shouldn’t be doing it so publicly. What he really means is to not do it because he’s gotten slightly red at the gesture.
🕷 He likes to spoil you with different gifts. Usually, these are apology gifts if he’s overworked himself, missed out on a date because of missions, or he said something wrong.
🕷 And it’s usually a few different things he’ll get. He can’t resist limiting himself, especially if he’s pissed you off and needs to make up for it.
🕷 Chocolates, flowers, plushies, jewelry, that one sweater you wanted two weeks ago, your favorite book. It doesn’t matter. He’s getting all of it, making a cute little display and standing by with it at the door for you to have as soon as you get home.
🕷 Miguel’s favorite Love Languages to receive are: Acts of Service and Physical Touch.
🕷 Mans is always STRESSED. Hundreds of Spider-people who can be idiots sometimes gets to him so there’s nothing better for him than to take some chores off his plate.
🕷 This can be household chores like cleaning, laundry or something or it can be things specifically for Miguel.
🕷 Cooking him his favorite meal when he gets home or packing him lunch. Drawing him a bath and massaging his muscles so he isn’t as tense (he’s always tensing for some reason). Dressing his wounds even if he says he’s a man and can handle it. (He can’t).
🕷 And he’ll never admit it unless he’s half asleep, but he’s needy for your touch. There is nothing better than your hands, your lips, everything.
🕷 He isn’t great at communicating this so it’s just him nudging his hand to yours or staring at your lips for a while. If you don’t catch it, he’ll slightly pout and be upset that he hasn’t received your touch.
🕷 He’s especially sensitive at his neck btw. If he’s ranting on about something, the moment he feels you lightly kissing and nibbling at his neck, his words start to drift off and slow until he’s sighing and closing his eyes, accepting his fate.
Tumblr media
NSFW Headcanons:
🕷 Remember all that stress from working? Guess who he’s taking it out on. This doesn’t mean he’ll be aggressive and hurt you (unless you want that) but more so, the moment he gets his hands on you, it’s clear what he wants as he’s pressing into you from behind.
🕷 Miguel can’t help but leave pretty little marks all across your body, especially on your inner thighs. If they are fading by the next time he’s between them, he’s taking his time to mark them back up as you squirm.
🕷 He’s such a WHORE for eye contact. Doesn’t matter the position, he NEEDS to see your reactions and have you feel his eyes on you.
🕷 “Don’t look away from me. You wanted this. Hell, you were begging for it. So look me in my eyes and take it.”
🕷 Even then, he can’t help being loving/romantic. His hands are holding yours, fingers interlocked as your being fucked to oblivion.
🕷 And being a gentleman does not go away here. He is actively resisting finishing until you do 2-3 times before him even if he was ready to cum everywhere the moment he saw you.
🕷 He’s an absolute animal in bed, I’m sorry. He’s tearing up your clothing with his talons, flipping you into different positions without warning, leaving scratch marks on your sides and legs, along with grunting and growling in your ears.
🕷 It’s never in a “meant to be scary” way but he can’t help himself but pounce onto you and hold you down. His fangs are out and talons slightly digging into you as he’s caught you and now you’re all his.
🕷 And it is way too easy for him to become obsessed between your legs. He can start slow and patient but the moment he tastes your cum/wetness, it’s time to see stars because he’s not stopping until you finally pull him off.
🕷 Speaking of giving head, if you aren’t gagging on his cock, he isn’t satisfied. He’s always nice, don’t get me wrong. He’ll hold your hair up, give you praise/degradation depending on your preference, and let you go at your own pace. But if you wanna see him cum, try to go as far as you can and gag and he’s rolling his eyes back, reveling in the sounds you make while he fills your mouth.
🕷 He can easily switch between praise and degradation or giving you a sweet mix of both. He’ll say things like “my pretty little whore” just to satisfy both areas.
🕷 He also is one to claim. That’s what all the marks are for anyhow but more so he does a kind of call and response during sex?? Like every-time he says “You’re all mine” he expects to hear “All yours” or “Just yours”. If he doesn’t, he’s going teasingly slow until you respond back to him just to fuck with you.
🕷 His favorite though is morning sex. Like, he loves to wake up already pressed into your back and have his hands trail up your belly. He’s whispering into your ear in his half-asleep state, tongue grazing the shell of your ear.
🕷 It’s sweet. It’s romantic. It’s slow and he can’t help himself when you’re just laying beside him so close and warm. He needed to feel you. He may not even fuck you and just let you cockwarm in the morning.
🕷 Also he def has a breeding kink. Regardless of if you are able to get pregnant or not, it’s all about seeing you filled to the brim with his cum. It’s mesmerizing to see it pour out of you that he’s nearly ready for another round immediately.
Tumblr media
⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
562 notes · View notes