#I hope this isn’t as terrible as it feels 😅
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It had been literal years since Harry had seen him, it shouldn’t still feel like this.
Looking at Draco Malfoy while he swanned around the gala, not even noticing Harry’s existence, felt like he’d been hit with a bombarda to the chest. The grief, the rage, the fear, the brokenness, everything came back like it was yesterday. Like he was twenty one and desperately in love, like his entire life was oriented around another person. And the devastation of being left without a word; the empty, expansive void that filled his entire body.
He couldn’t stop watching him. Couldn’t take his eyes off his lithe form, so similar and yet different. He walked taller now, he was self assured in a way he hadn’t been. Open, smiling, like he actually knew he was worthy and it changed how he viewed other people. But he was still himself; clever and funny, still a little bashful when someone praised him.
Harry wondered what else was the same. Wondered if his mouth still tasted the same, if his hands could still make Harry’s body go pliant and his mind go blank. He wondered if he still got giggly after sex. Wondered if earl grey was still his favorite type of tea. If he still hated tequila. Wondered what Harry’d done wrong and how he could have messed up badly enough that Draco left after three years together without a word.
It was inevitable that he found himself following Draco when he went to the men's room, a moth to a flame that would incinerate it and leave its charred smoking remains in a pile of ash. Locking the door behind him, he waited, leaning against the row of sinks until Draco emerged from the stall. There was barely a hitch in his step, barely a flash of recognition in those silver eyes when he looked at Harry.
"Not even a hello?" he asked, suddenly incensed at Draco for ignoring him, at himself for setting himself up for this.
"Hello, Potter," he said evenly. "Enjoying yourself at this fine Ministry Gala?"
"Fuck you," he hissed.
Draco turned and raised an irritatingly perfect eyebrow at him, "Was a hello not what you wanted?"
And Harry saw it, the flicker in his eyes that meant he knew he'd asked the wrong question. "Not what I wanted," he repeated, throat tight and eyes stinging. "Not what I wanted?" He shook his head, "when have you ever cared about what I wanted?"
"Right," Draco said. "Terribly sorry that this Gala helps to fund my research and I had to be here tonight for my job." He said it calmly, devoid of any of the emotions that were racing under Harry's skin. "If you'll excuse me," he said, starting past Harry and moving toward the door, "I'll just get out of your way."
Harry's hands were on him before he even knew what he was doing, shoving him back against the door and pinning him there. "Seven years, Draco. Seven years and not a single word."
"Let me go," he said, voice still unerringly calm.
He shook his head, "No. Not until you-" he broke of, chest heaving as he fought for control, as he fought to get a breath.
"Until I what?" he asked.
"Not until you tell me why," Harry said, voice shaking. "Not until you give me the reason that you threw away three years together without a single. fucking. word."
He just stared at him, still not giving him a word.
"Tell me," he said, begged really, "just. Give me something. Give me some closure. Let me move on."
"Nothing is stopping you from moving on," he replied steadily.
He growled, "Fucking hell, Draco. Just tell me-"
"You're hurting me," the other man said, pressing a palm against Harry's chest.
Harry loosened his grip, "You hurt me," he whispered. "You tore out my entire heart when you fucked off and left. You left this giant, gaping sink hole of a wound in my chest that has never closed, never healed right. It always fucking hurts."
He shook his head, eyes suspiciously bright.
"Tell me," Harry demanded. "Tell me what I did. Tell me how you stopped loving me. Tell me why you left. I would have given you anything, I would have done anything, would hav-"
"I know!" Draco exploded, his voice sharp and furious, and Harry reveled in it, in his loss of composure. "I know that you would have and I didn't want you to."
"What?" he asked.
Draco shoved him off, "Let go of me." He tried to turn and get the door open but Harry grabbed him and spun him around again.
"What do you mean?"
"Let go!" he demanded, pushing roughly at him.
"No," he replied stubbornly. "You owe me this much, at least."
"I owe you nothing," Draco hissed, voice low.
Harry released his grip on the other man, body involuntarily taking a step back as he shrunk in on himself, curling away from him. "Fine," he whispered, wishing he could sink into the floor, wishing he could just disappear, wishing for anything that would take the pain away.
The other man sighed and Harry could hear him straightening his robes before he pulled open the door. "I owe you nothing because the cost of leaving was too high in the first place," he said.
And Harry's head filled with a thousand questions, he looked up but Draco had already left. Rushing out after him, Harry caught him just at the end of the hall. They were in plain sight of everyone at the Gala, if they cared to look their way, but Harry couldn't have cared less. "What?" he asked, maneuvering so that he was in front of the other man. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Everyone can see you," Draco said, voice low so no one would hear, his face impassively blank in a way that Harry detested; it made something go funny in his chest, the desire to break him from that shell, to muss him up, to kiss him until he was breathless and smiling, color high on his cheeks.
"I don't care." He shook his head, "For fuck's sake Draco. I don't care what any of them think. Please," he whispered. "Please just," he let out a rush of air that he'd been holding too tight in his lungs. "Please."
"Not here," he said, glancing around the room very clearly trying to clock who'd noticed them talking.
He nodded eagerly, "tell me where and when."
Draco looked at him, actually looked at him, his eyes moving over Harry's face like a caress. "Mac's, 9:00 pm."
He spun off and left Harry standing there, staring at the wall. He hadn't been to Mac's in seven years, not since Draco'd left.
The rest of the Gala couldn't go quickly enough and Harry found himself leaving before he really needed to but he couldn't help it; he couldn't stand and talk to one more person that he had no interest in talking to. Not to mention the torment of watching Draco swan about, wooing donors; Harry's heart couldn't take it.
Flooing home to change into a green jumper and a pair of jeans before heading to the diner seemed like the only reasonable course of action.
The neon clock behind the counter revealed he was only ten minutes early and he mentally congratulated himself on taking up as much time as he had.
"Well bless my soul," the waitress, Barb if Harry remembered right, said. "I haven't seen you in ages. Look how you've grown."
"And you look just the same, lovely as ever," Harry replied, smiling at her. It was true, she wore the same blue dress and apron, hair pulled back in a bun, still had the same blue eye shadow.
"Flatterer," she accused, but she looked pleased. "Where's your young man?" she asked, leading him back to the corner booth that they'd always preferred and for a moment Harry's heart twisted painfully in his chest.
"Coming, I hope," he said.
She nodded, eyes full of understanding, "Now, don't tell me," she said. "You're a strawberry shake and he's-" she broke off, brow furrowing in concentration.
"A chocolate malt," he said at the same time as another voice behind her.
Both he and Barb looked up to find Draco standing behind her, hands shoved into the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers, top button on his black dress shirt unbuttoned. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of a muggle magazine, hair just a little disheveled but devastatingly handsome. Harry could barely breathe around how fucking gorgeous he was, how badly he wanted him.
"But if I'm being honest," he said, "I haven't had that much sugar in ages. I should probably-"
"Nonsense," she said, shooing him into the booth across from Harry. "Reunions always require something of the old to mix with the new."
Before either of them could respond to that, she bustled off to the kitchen, leaving the two of them staring awkwardly at one another.
"Draco-" he started just as the other man began with "Look-"
Harry shook his head and gave a little chuckle, running his fingers through his curls and tucking them behind his ear, "Go ahead," he offered.
Squaring his shoulders, Draco began again, "Agreeing to come here with you was a moment of weakness."
"A moment of weakness?" Harry interrupted.
Draco glared at him, "Yes. I'm really not interested in having this conversation. I'm not interested in rehashing everything that happened."
He took a slow breath, "I deserved a good bye," he said eyes stinging.
"Excuse me?" he asked, sounding a bit taken aback.
Barb came over and deposited their shakes and a platter of nachos between them. "I'll just be tidying up," she said. "Over there," she added pointedly. "Don't be shy if you boys need anything."
Harry waited until she was a reasonable distance away from their table before he said, "Listen, I don't need to know why you left. You're right, you don't owe me that. So even though I'd like to know, even though it kills me not to know what happened, what I did wrong," he broke off, shaking his head. "You can have your own reasons and I don't have to know them. But I deserved a good bye."
Those grey eyes, the ones he'd spent countless hours staring into, the ones he'd dreamt of more times than he could count, stared at him like he couldn't comprehend what he was saying.
"I loved you, Draco," he said softly, the truth splitting the wounds in his heart open wide. "I loved you more than anything, I would have done anything, I would have given you anything. If you'd told me you needed to leave, I would have been heartbroken, but I would have let you." He took a deep shuddering breath, "but I deserved a good bye."
"I couldn't," Draco said simply. He started to slide toward the edge of his bench but Harry reached out.
"Damn it, Draco," he said. "Sit down. Please. If you ever loved me-"
"If I ever loved you?" he asked and finally his exterior cracked. "If I ever loved you?" he repeated incredulously. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"What the fuck is wrong with me?" he repeated, blood pressure rising.
"Yes, you fucking idiot! What do you mean 'if I ever loved you'?" He shook his head, "How can you possibly imagine that my leaving wasn't out of love for you?"
"Because it wasn't!" he exclaimed.
"Yes it was."
He shook his head, "There's no way in hell," he said. "It wasn't for me because you leaving completely destroyed me. You leaving left me in a state of depression that made me wish I was dead. For fucking months. I went to therapy; I still go to therapy, you leaving still comes up. Regularly. There was nothing about that choice that was good for me.”
“How do you imagine that relationship would have ended?”
Harry shook his head, “I don’t know. I’ve been too preoccupied with dealing with the fall out of how it actually ended to wonder how it might have ended otherwise.”
He sighed, rubbing his forehead in a gesture that Harry had seen enough to know that he was getting a tension headache. He wondered if scratching his fingers through the hair at the back of his head still helped, wondered if rubbing his neck still eased the pain. "That relationship would have ended with you hating me."
"Right," he said. "So glad we avoided that outcome."
"Do you hate me?" he asked, looking at Harry like the answer mattered to him.
He let out a breath, "I wanted to. It would have been easier if I could have."
Draco nodded, "And I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I didn't want to stick around for that." He sighed, "Look, we couldn't have kept living in the shadows. Coming out to muggle restaurants, sharing a bed, living on the edge of the world and hoping that we didn't get caught."
"Draco, I would have come out with you. If you'd wanted to tell people, I would have. Godric. How little can you possibly think of me that-?"
He shook his head, "That's my point. You would have come out, you would have told the world, and we would have lived under the proverbial shit storm that rained down on us. Constant harassment, we'd be the front page of every newspaper. I had to leave the country to get accepted into a training program that would accept me as it was."
"And?" Harry asked, "I'm not new to the media shit-show."
Draco looked at him, eyes sad like he could see something that Harry couldn't. "You're not, that's the point. Harry," he said, and the way that he said his name felt like Harry's heart was being ripped open, "you deserved time to heal. You deserved a shot at a normal life. You deserved to be happy. You deserved so much-"
"That wasn't your choice to make!" Harry exclaimed. "What I deserved, what would make me happy; it wasn't your decision. Not without me at least. Because it didn't make me happy. You made me happy."
"But I wouldn't have," he said. "It was the only way. For both of us. I needed to get my life together. I'm brilliant," he said, and somehow it didn't sound cocky, it was just a statement of fact. "Harry, I'm so good at my job. I'm so good at developing potions and magic that is helping people in ways we couldn't have imagined even five years ago."
"I know," Harry replied. "I've followed your career. I've read your articles."
The little smile that curved Draco's mouth shouldn't have felt like that still, it shouldn't have made him feel like his heart expanded four sizes. "And you needed to find your life outside of me. It felt like you hated everything, like you wanted to burn the entire world, everything outside of our bed. And I was never going to be enough to fill that need."
"You were," he said, throat burning. "Draco, I would have supported you. I would have given you anything-"
"I know. And I couldn't let you." He shook his head, "Leaving you," Draco looked down at his hands where they were clenched on the table. "Circe, Harry, it nearly killed me. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I meant what I said about the cost of leaving being too high. I wanted to give you the life you deserved.”
“All I wanted was you,” he replied.
“I know. And don’t you see why that is a problem? Harry, if all you wanted was me, how could I ever be enough? When all of your dreams, or goals, or aspirations revolve around me,” he shook his head. “I wanted more for you.”
“I didn’t mean to put pressure on you-”
He nodded, “I know. But by the end, neither of us even knew how to be a complete person on our own.”
“Three years of shared life will do that to a person,” he replied blandly.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said, and Harry couldn’t count the number of times that he’d wished to hear those words. “I am. But I would do it again.”
The dried, brittle remains of his heart crumbled in his chest. “Right.”
Draco’s hand reached across the table and covered Harry’s, and Harry stopped breathing. “You might be right,” he said. “You probably deserved a good bye. But if I’d given one to you, if I’d even tried, I never would have been able to leave you.”
He opened his mouth to reply but Draco continued.
“I’m not a brave man, I’ve never been well versed in denying myself what I wanted. But I had to give us a chance. I had to give us both the chance to grow into the men we needed to become. I had to give you the chance to be happy.”
“Is that what you think I am?” Harry asked. “Happy?”
Draco blinked, “Well, yes.” His eyebrows furrowed, “you run multiple successful charities that are doing immeasurable good. You’re always in the Prophet with some new witch or wizard gazing adoringly at you-”
“I haven’t slept with anyone since you,” he said bluntly. “Some events require a plus one, so,” he shrugged. “But I still sleep on the left side of the bed. I still unconsciously check to make sure the covers aren’t bunched under me when I roll over because my body got used to not wanting to take them from you.
“Yes, I run my charities,” he continued. “I attend ministry functions. I visit my godchildren and hang out with friends. Yes. I do the duties set before me in my life and I make time for people I love.” He shook his head, “but no one who knows me would say that I am happy.”
Draco stared at him uncertainly.
“It never made sense,” Harry continued. “I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong, how I’d fucked up so badly. I loved you so much, I wanted what was good for you, and I came to terms with that not being me. But for you to tell me it was for me,” he blew out a breath and shook his head. “Whatever you may think, that wasn’t what was good for me.”
No words came out of the other man’s mouth, and Harry decided he’d probably tortured him long enough.
He rapped his knuckles on the table and stood, dropping some money for the bill before murmuring, “good bye, Draco. I hope your life is everything that you wanted.”
Then he all but fled the diner, desperate to be anywhere that wasn’t there. His heart couldn’t take it. Maybe Draco has been right and a conversation only made things worse.
Before he could get to the alley down the street, the one he and Draco had stood in more times than Harry could count to snog until one of them got too horny and apparated them back to Harry’s bed, he heard the sound of footsteps chasing him down the sidewalk. And he would have recognized those footsteps anywhere, could have picked out Draco’s gait out of any line up. “What-” he began, turning toward him.
But he was interrupted by Draco cupping his face and kissing him, his body surging against Harry’s.
Harry didn’t waste this moment, he grabbed onto the other man and pulled him in, kissing him back with all of the heart ache, all of the desire and love that he hadn’t been able to give him when he’d left.
Draco pressed him back against the wall, caging Harry in and making him feel kept and held. “I’m sorry,” Draco managed into the kiss. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head, trying to just draw him back into the kiss, he didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want anything but this moment; Draco in his arms, bodies pressed together, not a space between them.
But he pulled back and Harry felt bereft. “Forgive me,” he pleaded. “I really believed I was doing the right thing-”
“Draco-”
He shook his head, pressing a trembling finger to Harry’s lips, “there hasn’t been anyone else for me but you either,” he confessed. “Harry,” he broke off, a tear sliding down his cheek, “you are the love of my life. I wanted you to be happy.” He broke, tears spilling down his face. “I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re brilliant,” Harry echoed back to him.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “If you meant it, when you said you weren’t happy here,” he started, “come with me. Salazar, I know it sounds crazy.” He shook his head, “but I’ve hated every single moment of not being with you. I love you.” He pressed his forehead to Harry’s, “I love you so much. Come back to France with me. We can start a new life there. I know it sounds crazy-”
“Yes,” he interrupted him. “Godric, yes. Let me come with you. Let me stay with you.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Draco cried, tears still pouring down his face. “You don’t know-”
“I know you,” he replied, holding Draco’s face in his hands to kiss him. “Yes, this is fast and sudden, and I’m sure we’ll have more than one fight about it. But I love you too. I have spent the last seven years wishing you’d walk back into my life, I’m not about to waste that opportunity now.”
“Come back to my hotel with me?”
He shook his head, “come back to our flat?” he whispered. “Come sleep in our bed?”
“You stayed?”
He nodded, “it was ours. I didn’t want to leave behind all I had left of you. And if you ever decided to come back,” he broke off. “Well, I wanted to be there.”
Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, “take me home,” he whispered.
“Home is anywhere, as long as I’m with you.”
#drarry#love#reconciliation#break up and make up#light angst#happy ending#the author is not dead#just living life with its highs and lows#I’m working through a lot right now. writing is hard because it’s all coming out sideways.#I hope this isn’t as terrible as it feels 😅
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hashira accidentally touch your chest
Author’s Note: pls and ty enjoy this tidbit of crack-fluff. 😆💖
hashira accidentally touch your chest
Hashira x Reader
Word Count: ~1,600
CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content
Suggestion Fulfilled: Can we get all hashira accidently touch y/n's breast
~faqs~
Fyi, “chest” means boob. I was just worried Tumblr would block this post from tags if I included “boob” in the title lmao. 😉
Shocked 😳😖
“I apologize, [y/n]-san, it won’t happen again!”
Gyomei’s nearly in tears, he feels so terribly 😞
“These things happen!” you promptly assure him, “Besides, you technically won the bout.”
No need to mention that he always wins when training together 🥲
“I cannot accept such a tainted victory.”
“Himejima-san, though I appreciate your concern and respect, there’s truly no issue.”
Meanwhile, Gyomei’s rethinking his entire Breathing Style to ensure he never accidentally touches anyone’s boob(s) again 💀
In cold disbelief 😐😐😐
If you don’t say anything, then he won’t say anything
Alternatively, if you do say something, then Obanai will immediately curl up into a ball and die
Spends the rest of his day recalling the fleeting warmth of your breast
He swears his hand doesn’t even get cold, so affected by the heat of your bosom
Your boob must be ✨magical✨
“Iguro-san,” you call out gently, noting his dazed stare, his dinner untouched while he sits crossed legged, “Is something on your mind?”
“No.” 😐😐😐
Well okay then 🙃
“About what happened earlier…”
🫨🫨🫨 <— Obanai is FREAKING OUT
“… Iguro-san, I didn’t mind.”
And then you stand up, take your dishes, and leave
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEEEAAAN?!?!?!
Good luck finding Obanai tomorrow 🫡 (the poor man’s been pleasantly overwhelmed)
He’ll avoid you for eternity now 😌 (not really, but at least until he can breathe around you again)
She giggles 🤭
Lol
“Oh my! [y/n]-san, I didn’t mean to touch you so intimately!” 😅
“No worries, it happens.”
Your face may or may not be burning up a storm, but that’s okay!
Mitsuri’s blushing too
A lot 😳
“I hope I didn’t hurt you?!”
Because like, What if I gripped too hard?! 😭
She’s well aware of her own strength
“You barely brushed me, Kanroji-san. I promise!”
Phew!
She grins, relief evident as she bumps her elbow against yours
“Don’t tell anyone, okay? I would be so embarrassed!!!”
“Kanroji-san, our secret is safe with me.”
I wish it would happen again… <— lowkey both of you thinking the same thing 🤪
As a medical personnel (among other roles), Shinobu accidentally (or even on purpose, depending on where you’re wounded) touching your boob isn’t entirely unreasonable nor unrealistic
Obviously it would be nicer if she was caressing you out of love and affection 😔
And not methodically cleansing then bandaging claw marks that just so happened to cross over your chest 😒
“You should make a full recovery,” she’s all business, “The demon avoided your nipple and didn’t puncture deep enough to affect the functionality of your breast,” fortunately, you’re too exhausted to be embarrassed by her bluntness, “It has a nice shape. I’m glad you survived.”
EXCUSE ME WHAT?!?!?! 😃🫠
Now you’re kinda embarrassed
More so preening, really 🤭
It’s like when a doctor randomly compliments the rhythm of your heart or some other characteristic from a mainly professional POV, but you’re still caught off guard because who tf compliments someone’s kidneys or bowels movements or?????
In your pain hazed delusion, you briefly contemplate somehow getting your other boob injured too… gotta make sure you’re matching in (nice) shape, y’know? 😌
Kyojuro can be discreet, albeit more so for your sake than his
“I APOLOGIZE! I DID NOT MEAN TO TOUCH YOUR BREAST!” <— how he could react 💀
“Pardon my slip, are you okay?” <— how he actually reacts, because he isn’t entirely lacking in social awareness and decorum 😆
“Oh,” you don’t mean to squeak, but it can’t be helped when the most handsome man you’ve ever known just casually grazed your boob, “I’m fine! Totally fine! Haha!” 🫨😵💫🫠
You’ve gotta be more convincing than that, or Kyojuro will never forgive himself 😕
He’s a lil oblivious when it comes to physical attraction
Not like, infantly so, but given this particular circumstance?
He doesn’t realize you’re flustered; he assumes you’re mortified 😖
“You sound decidedly less than fine.”
He’s softer now, worried about startling you 🥺
“I was surprised! But don’t worry! I’m not worried!”
Okaaay, but he’s worried 🥲
“Is there any way I could make amends for my indiscretion?”
Not only is he handsome, but he is such a gentleman 😭😍
“Rengoku-san, there are no amends to be made, I promise. I’m not mad, nor do I feel unhappy or unsafe. I forgive you.”
Your regaining of the ability to speak in complete sentences greatly reassures him 😮💨😁
“Ah. Well. I am grateful for your kindness and understanding. It will not happen again.”
…
…
Hold up 🧐
Why does she seem… she seems… disappointed? Should I have said it will happen again??
You’ve suddenly given Kyojuro something quite pleasant to ponder 🤔
After all, he isn’t entirely oblivious 😉
“Are you going to apologize?” Sanemi demands
“For what?” you screech
“For touching my hand with your boob!”
Your eyes roll, “Oh fuck off!”
“I didn’t ask to touch you,” he grunts
“I wouldn’t have given you permission anyway,” you retort 😒
Arms crossing over his bare chest, Sanemi scoffs, “Well I didn’t give mine either!”
“You’re ridiculous. It was an accident.”
You seem genuinely pissed 😬
Sanemi rethinks his approach
“You know I’m joking, right?” 😅
“Nooo,” your sarcasm cuts deep, “I thought you were flirting.” 😐
Uh 😀
Well 😃
Shit 😄
“Fuck you!”
When in doubt, curse ‘em out 💀
You scowl, confusion lingering as your blood boils, “Fuck you!”
“I said it first.” 🙄
You stalk away, fed up with his antics
#man child #sort of #romantically inept is more like it
As tends to happen with epiphanies, yours doesn’t hit until you’re almost asleep
“WAS THAT MOTHERFUCKER FLIRTING WITH ME???!” 😳🥴😭
Best believe Shinazugawa Sanemi is about to have a Lesson 101 in flirting asap 😤😎
(assuming you’re older, like, mentor age to Muichiro)
Neither of you make a fuss about it
It’s like accidentally calling your teacher mom 😬
Or grabbing a random person’s hand in the supermarket thinking they’re your parent 🫣
Embarrassing, but not a huge deal — unless you make it one
There’re those three seconds of slow motion Uhh and What just happened and Oops 🫠
And then time speeds up to normal again, you have a quick conversation with your eyes (gosh forbid you speak and bring the unspoken into reality 💀), and it’s over
^^ Alternatively, if Muichiro initiates a conversation to clear the air, then you’re able to have a mature and concise chat that is respectfully and patiently resolved
Embarrassing/accidental encounters are part of growing up
As long as they can be navigated ~safely, there shouldn’t be any lasting harm
⚠️I also want to emphasize that I am talking solely on inarguably accidental/one time incidences⚠️
Hehehe
Giyuu’s hand is stuck 🫣
Only for like, a fleeting second
But omg 😭
He was already embarrassed, and now he’s triply embarrassed 🫠🫠🫠
“... Tomioka-san?”
You won’t lie; you aren’t especially bothered 🤭
But it is a compromising position to be caught in; Giyuu lowkey crushing you, one of his palms clearly cupping your boob 😬
#wrestling #or something #so maybe this isn’t super realistic #forgive me
You’re about to repeat his name when he finally springs to life, immediately rolling off you, standing abruptly, about to literally sprint away
And then he remembers his manners 🙃
He offers you a hand
His other hand; his boob hand is currently tucked away in his haori
He’s never washing it again
#closet perv
“Thanks,” you smile faintly, accepting his assistance as you lift yourself from the ground
You hope he can’t hear your heartbeat 💓
He definitely can 😶
But can you hear his?
“I don’t think we should train together anymore.”
Giyuu is swift and harsh with his solutions
“Why?”
Your question comes out stiffer than intended
He hesitates, unable to interpret the fear in your tone — the longing
“I always beat you,” he explains lamely, “Don’t you get tired of losing?”
You scoff cheerfully, grinning now as you squeeze his hand
Fuck, we were still holding hands?! <— Giyuu is in shambles 😳
“I could never lose!” you declare, feelings brimming in your throat, spilling onto your tongue, “Not when I’m with you.”
Then we should absolutely stop training together would be the responsible reaction
Attachments are the most dangerous game for a Hashira to play 😕
Instead, Giyuu’s rendered speechless, unable to shake his hand from yours
“Well alright then,” he mutters, stomach churning as he narrowly avoids the warmth in your gaze
In fact, you swear he squeezes back 💓
“EXCUSE ME! I HAVE A WIFE!” 😤😤😤
“You have three wives.” 🙄
Sputtering, Tengen shrieks, “I already have plenty of breasts to touch!”
“Tengen,” you glare, not one to back down as you jab a finger into his own chest, “You touched my boob.” 😒
“AND I’M SORRY!” 😭
Much better 😌
“I don’t know what they see in you,” you scoff (you’re also lying, you can see plenty🤭), “They’re gorgeous… and you freak out when you accidentally touch a boob.” 💀
Tengen is 100% pouting now
“I don’t freak out when I touch their boobs,” he huffs
“Well aren’t they lucky.” 😐
“You could be lucky too!”
…
…
Tengen starts running
You give chase
“DID YOU TALK TO THEM ABOUT THIS?”
Tengen runs faster
“TENGEN!!!!!”
Tengen runs faster and faster
You give up
*insert gasping for air here*
“DO YOUR WIVES KNOW THEY’RE MARRIED TO A COWARD???!!!”
Oh well, you’ll have to visit their estate sometime this week 🙃
You’re sure to get an answer from Hina, Makio, and Suma ☺️
And you can’t wait to see more of Tengen 😏😋
Sorry, sometimes the horny just happens 🥴
#hashira x reader#headcanons#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#gyomei x reader#obanai x reader#mitsuri x reader#shinobu x reader#kyojuro x reader#sanemi x reader#muichiro x reader#giyuu x reader#tengen x reader
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Sweetly Drunk
I hope you like it! It's a little different from my other age regression fics but it's still really cute!! It's a pretty short one, sorry about that!! My brain isn't cooperating again😭
Tags: @elvisalltheway101
Characters: Drunk!Elvis X little!reader
Warnings/triggers: Little lifestyle, age regression, littlespace, intoxication, alcohol, drunk person(the fic is nothing terrible!)
There are a lot of 'babies' and 'sweeties' in this😅
_____________________________________________
It’s one of those very rare nights where someone like Elvis who isn’t a big drinker, has a few too many drinks with the guys. Elvis doesn’t get loud like many other drunks but the moment your name unknowingly slips out of his mouth, that’s when things break loose.
“Y/n? Babyy..where is my baby, Joe? Where?” Elvis whipped his head around at Joe, his eyes growing heavy and body jolting now and then from hiccuping. “At home E, she’s at home” Joe answered with a chuckle, patting his back. Elvis groaned and rested his head in his hands “I wanna see her… My darling…darling..so it goes SOMETHINGS ARE MEANT TO BE” lifting his head up, Elvis leaned back in his chair with his arms lifted in the air “TAKE MY HAND, TAKE MY WHOLE LIFE TOO” slurring his words and singing loudly, making the others laugh “E?” Charlie chuckled with a shot glass in his hand. His energy levels changing, Elvis groaned again and rubbed his eyes “Lord…” he sighed as he fell further into his chair with his legs spread out.
As time went by, the guys decided to send Elvis home. Leading him to his black Lincoln limousine for only him to make their lives harder by pushing them away and sprawling his arms out as if he’s an eagle but after some time, they eventually got him in and Joe volunteered to drive him back to Graceland.
Finally arriving back home, Elvis shuffles himself out of the passenger’s seat, stumbling up the steps with Joe watching him from the driver’s seat “Baby, baby…Babyyy” barging in, Elvis looks around “Where’s my baby… DARLING I’M HOME-” getting cut off abruptly by Jerry who was watching over you while Elvis was away “ Jeez E! Quiet down, she’s sleeping man!” he whispers. Elvis in his very drunk state, doesn’t listen and pushes Jerry away as his arms sprawl out once more. Walking up the stairs towards his bedroom “Wittle sweetie!” Jerry shakes his head whilst sighing as he leaves the house.
As Elvis walks into his bedroom, he snickers quietly, seeing a small lump on his bed “Sweetie…” prolonging his words in his silly voice.
Elvis kicks his shoes off and climbs onto the bed. A big grin on his face as he lays down and shuffles closer to your sleeping figure. Elvis wraps his arms around you, making you stir and soon opening your eyes. “...Daddy?” rolling onto your back, peering up through squinted eyes. Elvis letting out a breathy laugh “My baby! Hello..” he hiccups.
Your eyebrows furrow as you notice something’s different but your thoughts get interrupted by Elvis rolling himself on top of you in an attempt to give you a bear hug “How’s my darlin’ been? Hmm?” the size and weight difference being very visible, you gasp out for air “Daddy! I can’t breathe!” pushing your fists on his shoulders, Elvis chuckling he rolls off “Aw c’mon you love those hugs!” you huff out a breath and sit up, frowning confused at why he’s acting like this but then again Elvis interrupts.
Sitting himself up to pull you into another unexpected hug “C’mere Daddy wants a hug, a hug f’om my baby” he rests his head in the crook of your neck and playfully munches at your skin, making you giggle. “Daddy! What are you doing?” humming softly as he pulls away, looking at your eyes with his dazy ones “I love you so much” he whispers and you smile gently but soon fades as you watch his eyes close and slump back down onto the bed. “Daddy?” feeling concerned, then out of nowhere, his arms go up in the air “C’mere..” hesitantly you lay down against his side while placing your head on his chest, he sighs contently and wraps his arms around you again to make sure you don't go anywhere.
Soon drifting off to sleep, not knowing he'll be suffering from an awful hangover tomorrow morning but that's alright, he's got you.
#elvis presley#elvis#elvis fans#60s elvis#70s elvis#elvis imagine#i love him#elvis presley x reader#elvis fanfiction
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hi!! just read both of your wrecker works and rineicbeijcwjkdjs LOVED THEM!! wrecker’s my fav of tbb and i really feel like he needs more love😭 i'm gonna be checking out some of your other works later lol
anyways i saw that you were taking requests, so i went through your prompt list and saw two that caught my eye. they're 24. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” and 18. “I almost lost you.”
i was wondering if you could write something with those prompts for wrecker please? like tbb + reader were able to rescue omega, crosshair, and tech (i am believer in tech surviving season 2 finale), but the reader got seriously injured during the rescue and is now in a coma. wrecker would be the one to say the prompts and it would be angsty like wrecker thinking the reader might die. but please let this end happily.
other than those details i trust your writing skills and process for anything! take your time writing, there's absolutely no rush!! and again your writing is soooo awesome!!😊😊
Well hello there!
I'm so glad you enjoyed those fics, and thank you for popping this request in - so sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope it hits the spot 😁
I guess it's also technically canon divergent now S3 is out, haha 😅
Through the Darkness
No one said rescuing the rest of the Batch from Mount Tantiss would be easy - you just didn't expect it to go like this.
Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: canon typical violence, reader in a coma for a bit, little bit of angst, but also dashes of hope, happily ever after.
Translations:
sarad - flower
Hemlock has his hands on you, his blaster pressed to your temple. The sounds of fighting cease. Dead TK Troopers litter the floor. Wrecker and his siblings freeze, slowly lowering their weapons.
Your back is pressed to Hemlock’s chest, and there isn’t a clean shot at him.
“Anyone moves and your dear liaison will pay the price,” Hemlock states.
Rage flows through Wrecker. You were in danger, too far for him to grab and shield, and he had no idea what to do. He glances at his siblings – Omega curled against Hunter’s side with weariness painted on her face, Tech leaning heavily against Echo for support as his body protests the prolonged time standing. Crosshair had peeled off from the group earlier, searching for what or who none of them was sure. They were all back together again. A family again. He wasn’t about to let Hemlock take you from them.
Shakes start in your thighs, slowly creeping up your body until your arms and hands tremble, too. You’ve been in dangerous situations before, had your life threatened before - but you’re certain Hemlock would do it. The man is crazy and will stop at nothing to get his hands on your family. The sound of his verbal back and forth with Hunter is like white noise.
The slightest movement in the rafters above catches your attention, and your eyes dart up. Battered and bruised, Crosshair has found a vantage point and a rifle. Those hawkish eyes meet yours, and a silent conversation is shared. You do the maths. There’s only one way out of this. Thank the Maker you still trust him, even after everything.
You give an almost imperceivable nod, knowing he’ll catch it. You flick your gaze to the others, taking one last look, just in case. Echo, who’d joined you all near the end of the war and had so seamlessly slipped into the fold of your family. Tech, worse for wear after his fall on Eriadu, but with that same solid determination in his eyes. Hunter, the man who’d welcomed you into the squad all those years ago, listened when you shared your thoughts and didn’t make a fuss when you broke terrible news to them about the next mission. Omega, trying to hide her fear through bravery – so much for a young girl with such a pure heart to endure. And Wrecker, the imposing force of a man who’d always put himself between you and danger, who reached for you at every opportunity and consoled you when things had gotten too much – the man you’d quietly loved for some time.
With a shaky breath, you close your eyes, placing all your faith in Crosshair. The quiet sniper who’d at first sneered at you and flicked toothpicks in your face before he’d thawed out and helped perfect your aim, taught you how to use his rifle, and what to look out for when scouting.
The sound of his shot reverberates around the hanger, and milliseconds later, searing pain tears through your shoulder, pulling a piercing cry from your lips. Legs giving out, you crumple, welcoming the cold durasteel you hit.
You don’t know if they all made it out, but you pray they did.
Wrecker hasn’t moved in weeks, refusing to leave you alone. The memory of you being shot won’t leave him; the sound of your agony is stuck on repeat. You’d been in bacta for what felt like forever, the shiny skin on your shoulder a testament to its healing power, but it wasn’t enough to wake you from the coma you’d slipped into. Pabu’s only Doctor had insisted on removing you from the tank once your physical wounds had healed, transferring you to a standard medical bed.
Crosshair’s shot had torn through your shoulder, but the angle had been perfect. Wrecker hadn’t expected any less from his little brother. The bolt had exited you and entered Hemlock, hitting him straight in the chest. A kill shot. That hadn’t killed you. Or so Wrecker hoped. Even if you woke, your shoulder would likely ache for the rest of your life, and your arm would not be as strong as before.
The sound of the door opening pulls Wrecker’s gaze from your prone form and across the small room in Pabu’s clinic. Crosshair slides through the crack in the door, thin lips pressed together, brow pinched. He visits often, guilt in his eyes every time he looks you over. You might’ve okayed the shot, but it still tore at the sniper’s soul to have hurt you.
“Nothing?” Crosshair rasps, sticking close to the door as he glances between you and his brother. He’d never admit it, but fear was starting to settle in his gut. If you didn’t wake…
“Nothin’.” Wrecker confirms, shoulders slumped. “Been talkin’ to her. Doc said she might be able to hear us. Not that it’s doin’ much good.” He sighs, gaze shifting back to you. “Told her we all got out okay. That you and Tech and the kid are alright. Don’t want her worryin’.”
Crosshair makes a slight noise, acknowledging his brother’s words as his gaze lingers on your prone form.
“You stayin’ a bit?” Wrecker asks, using one foot to push out the spare chair at his side – the rest of their siblings often visited, too.
Hesitating, Crosshair lets out a small sigh as he moves across the room, lowering himself silently into the chair. He hadn’t stayed before, preferring to flit in for any news before disappearing. It hurt too much to see you this way, knowing he’d caused it. That and he was still working through everything that had happened during his time with the Empire, trying to fix his relationships with his siblings. But Wrecker needed him, so he’d stay.
You’d always hated the dark.
The shadows surround you, pressing in from all sides. Yet amidst the inky darkness, you find yourself standing in a solitary spot of light, its glow offering a semblance of warmth amidst the chill of the void. The lights kept appearing, and you’d learned quickly that when a new one glistened on the horizon, you had to run for it before the light you were already standing in disappeared.
You’d lost track of how many lights you’d chased so far.
Each one varied in intensity – sometimes brilliant beacons, other times mere flickers barely piercing the gloom. Yet, regardless of their brightness, they all held a magnetic pull, drawing you forward with an unyielding force. And each time you reached one, a brief respite washed over you, a fleeting moment before the next journey into the unknown began.
Scanning the horizon, you spot another light starting to beckon, its faint glow a promise of safety. With a heavy heart, you know what you need to do.
Taking a deep breath, you burst into a sprint. Each step forward is a battle against the darkness, its tendrils reaching out like icy fingers, eager to drag you into its embrace. Goosebumps prickle your arms, heart pounding as fear gnaws at your insides, but a stubborn determination fuels your movements. You can’t afford to falter, to succumb to the darkness, not after everything.
Worry lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a constant reminder of uncertainty. What lay beyond the lights? Will you ever find your way back to the world you once knew? The questions taunt you, echoing in your mind relentlessly the longer you spend here.
Yet, a glimmer of hope remains amidst the fear and uncertainty. Though the darkness threatens to overwhelm you, there must be a reason for the light. There has to be something causing it. Blessing you with it. Giving you these small moments of respite and keeping you in one piece.
You keep going. One foot in front of the other.
A shove yanks Wrecker out of sleep, and the big man jolts awake with a small yelp.
Crosshair snickers, leaning back in his seat, drawing his hand back towards his chest. “Sleeping on the job, vod.” He can’t help but jibe, his smirk melting into a frown at the sound of Wrecker’s stomach growling. “When’s the last time you ate?” He asks. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, seeing him finally getting some rest, but the sun was high in the sky now, and Crosshair knew it wouldn’t be long until Omega and Hunter swung by.
Blinking, Wrecker’s mind takes a moment to catch up with the fact he’s awake. “Urm, yesterday? Maybe?” He guesses, not really sure. The days were starting to blend together.
With a huff, Crosshair stands, long legs unfolding. “Will get you something. Can’t wither away before she wakes.” He mutters, grateful for the opportunity to leave and not have to sit any longer in silence with his feelings – he’d done enough of that for the day.
With a slight nod of appreciation, Wrecker watches as Crosshair heads out the door, hearing the gentle click of it shutting behind him. Hand wiping over his face, Wrecker shifts in the chair, stretching a little. But he can’t avoid the inevitable forever, and although it pains him, he looks you over for what feels like the millionth time.
Despite his imposing stature, he feels powerless.
He hadn’t been able to protect you - the woman he loves. He’s loved you since the moment he first met you in the hanger of a Venator, as you’d been assigned to him and his brothers as their liaison. You’d offered them a smile that had rendered him speechless, and his booming laughter had then filled the hanger when you’d quipped back at Crosshair as he'd sneered about them not needing a babysitter.
You kept them on their toes and blended in so seamlessly with their chaotic lives.
Without an audience, Wrecker clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat to gently take your tiny hand in his much larger one. “I hope ya can hear me, sarad.” He starts, voice mellow. “Been a few weeks now since we got ’em back.” He’s not sure how much you’re aware of, if the passing of time is something you’re experiencing. “Cross was just here. Finally sat for a bit. Think he feels guilty.” Wrecker pauses, brows furrowing, face pinching. “I feel guilty. Should have protected ya, kept ya close.” Wrecker’s voice cracks a little, emotion seeping through.
“We’re all here, though. Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what. Can’t wait for ya to wake up and tell us all how much trouble we’re in.” He chuckles softly, a hint of sadness in the sound. “Just...ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.” He admits, a well of emotion pressing down on his chest.
Wrecker’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable even in the silence of the clinic. He wishes he could shake this feeling of helplessness and do more than just sit by your side, waiting for a sign of life. But for now, all he can offer is his unwavering presence and a steady stream of conversation, hoping against hope that somewhere within your subconscious, you can hear him.
Keep going. You need to keep going.
The darkness claws at you, desperate to slow you down and draw you into its embrace. But the light grows closer with every step you take, with every thud of your heart as you race forward. Amidst your footsteps echoing in the void is the faintest whisper of something familiar.
No.
Not something.
Someone.
“Wreck!” You cry out into the darkness, feet faltering for a second as you recognise the deep voice. The darkness tries to take advantage of your momentary hiccup, but with a yelp, you pick up your pace. The hope that lingers in your heart explodes. As you draw closer to the light, Wrecker’s voice comes into focus. “Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what.”
With renewed determination, you push yourself harder, every muscle in your body screaming for rest, but you refuse to give in. The light grows brighter, its warmth now palpable against your skin.
And then, just as you’re on the verge of stepping into the light, a sudden force knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic grips your chest as you scramble, desperate to continue your pursuit.
But the darkness has other plans, closing in around you like a suffocating blanket, obscuring the light. Amidst the coldness creeping through your body, you cling to the memory of Wrecker’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness.
Body straining, you crawl forward, ignoring the pain and exhaustion, determination burning bright within you. You don’t belong in the darkness. You belong in the light. With them. With him.
Straining, you reach out an arm, trembling fingers skimming the edge of the light as Wrecker’s voice comes through loud and clear. “…ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.”
The darkness recoils.
With a final surge of strength, you propel yourself forward, breaking free from the suffocating grip of the void. The light envelops you, wrapping you in its warm embrace as the shadows recede into the distance, getting further and further away. Relief floods through you, tears of joy mingling with sweat on your cheeks.
Head tilting back, you look up at the light, a bubble of laughter escaping as you bask in the glow. Eyes fluttering shut, you savour the moment. Yet this time, when you open your eyes, there’s no darkness or blinding light anymore.
You blink. Once. Twice. The soft hum of medical equipment fills the air. And there, beside you, is Wrecker, head bowed, the weight of his hand wrapped around yours.
Everything seems to freeze except the frantic thudding of your heart. “Wreck…” You whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse as you dare to hope you’re back. Really back.
Wrecker’s head jolts up at the rasped sound of his name, his good eye widening as he meets your gaze, your name falling from his lips as his features crumple, a heaving sob of relief escaping him.
You slowly sit up, wincing at the ache that shoots through your shoulder. It’s still tender, but the pain is nothing compared to the overwhelming flood of emotions that wash over you at the sight of Wrecker’s tear-streaked face.
You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in reality. “I’m here.” You murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him.
Wrecker’s grip tightens around your hand as if afraid you might slip away again if he lets go. He leans into your touch, his words catching in his throat momentarily before he stands, leaning over the bed to envelop you in an embrace, protective yet gentle, conscious of your shoulder. “You’re back.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Thought I almost lost ya.”
Weak but grateful, you return his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence washing over you, grounding you in reality. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of him worrying about you, thinking he would lose you. “Not going anywhere, big guy.” You reassure him, sniffling as you try to keep a lid on your emotions. “The others?” You ask cautiously, dread curling in your gut.
“All made it,” Wrecker confirms, arms slowly uncurling from around you as he sits back in his chair, hand scooping up yours so he can maintain some contact.
Your dread is swept away and replaced immediately by relief; this time, you don’t bother holding back your sobs.
“No cryin’, pretty girl. Please.” Wrecker’s heart aches at the sight, his free hand moving to cup your face and wipe away the tears.
You smile through your tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. Wrecker’s touch is like a lifeline. “Sorry.” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to reign in your feelings. “Just...so relieved.”
Wrecker offers you a tender smile. “No need to apologise, sarad,” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. A bolt of courage has him leaning forward to gently kiss your forehead.
As Wrecker’s lips meet your forehead, warmth seeps through you, chasing away the last remnants of the dark coldness. He pulls back a little, his gaze meeting yours, and the air feels electric. Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as your lips finally meet his in a soft, tentative kiss.
And you realize that amidst the chaos and darkness, love has always been the guiding light, leading you back to where you belong.
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#Soarings Ask Box#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch x you#bad batch x reader#bad batch x you#tbb x reader#tbb x you#tbb wrecker x reader#tbb wrecker x you#wrecker x reader#wrecker x you#tbb wrecker#wrecker the bad batch#wrecker bad batch#bad batch wrecker#wrecker#the bad batch#star wars the bad batch#star wars clone wars#clone force 99
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Hey my family out the Christmas decorations up today and it made me think of a cute little request for roosters brood? Like one where the kids tell the squad that they say mommy kissing Santa thought it would just be funny and cute 🥰
Aww that is super cute! I’m totally getting into the holiday spirit despite it being my busiest season, work-wise 😫 Hope you like this little drabble which may or may not have somehow turned into a Hannix thing.. I don't even know haha I've just been in a Jake mood lately 😅
The Secret
Rooster x Wife!Reader
Summary: One of your children confides in Hangman after he sees you locking lips with Ol' Saint Nick.
CW: just a tiny drabble, fluff, Christmas, kids, hints of Hannix
WC: 400+
“Guess what?” you hear your son say excitedly as he pulls on Jake’s pantleg while the latter is hanging a string of lights above your window.
“Chicken butt,” Jake responds without looking down.
“No!” Your son cackles. “I have a secret!”
Jake glances at him with a smirk. “Let me guess,” he says. “You’re not planning on keeping it.”
“Keeping what?” the boy asks in confusion.
Jake’s grin widens and he steps down from the stool to sit on it instead. He leans forward and gives your son his undivided attention. “Alright, go ahead.”
Your son brings his face to Jake’s ear and starts saying something when Jake jerks away from him. “Buddy!” he exclaims. “When you’re talking into my ear, whisper. You’re gonna burst my damn eardrum.”
“Bagman!” Phoenix tosses a garland at his back. “Language.”
“Phoenix!” he responds, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Can you save the violence for when we’re alone?”
Natasha’s eyes widen and her mouth curves into an outraged grin. She goes back to her poinsettia arrangement in silence.
Jake returns his attention to your son, who starts whispering feverishly into his ear.
“Oh, really?” Jake says, his mouth stretching into a wide smirk. He glances up at you with a roguish smile.
“You can’t tell daddy,” your son warns.
Jake nods, still watching you. “I agree.”
…
“What was that about?” you ask Jake later that evening after Bradley goes to put the kids to bed.
Jake turns to you with a laugh. “Apparently, you’re on the naughty list.”
“What?”
“Little Pete –”
“It was Nick,” Natasha interrupts Jake, rolling her eyes.
“Whatever, they’re practically the same person.” Jake waves his hand. “Little Nick saw mommy kissing Santa Clause.”
You clap a hand over your mouth, gasping. “Oh no!”
“What happened?” Bradley asks, coming down the stairs.
“Bradley was trying on the new Santa costume he bought,” you say with a slight whine. “I can’t believe they saw us!”
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Natasha muses. “Finding out that Santa isn’t real or thinking that your mom’s having an affair with old Saint Nick.”
You cringe. “Both are terrible!”
Bradley makes a face. “Someone saw us?”
Jake nods. “Yeah, Pete –”
“Nick,” Natasha corrects him again.
Jake sighs in exasperation. “How can you even tell them apart?”
Natasha shrugs. “Pete is shorter.”
Bradley chuckles, taking you by the waist and kissing your cheek. “Don’t worry, darling,” he mutters. “We’ll just tell the kids that Santa kisses everybody.”
Jake glances at the two of you sourly and then reaches over to take Natasha by the arm. He pulls her toward him possessively. “As long as Santa doesn’t demonstrate it,” he comments with a grimace.
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Im loving these jealous dan heng so lemme add some lmao
Have you seen that new video about the other high elders of each ship? If you haven't it's on star rail's official yt, but anyways what if reader saw it and was over the moon at how hot the imbibitor lunae looks in that short animation.
I'm not totally sure which imbibitor lunae was shown in the video but assuming it's not dan heng then then reader was simping for the another imbibitor lunae making dan heng jealous 😅
I thiiink I saw the one you’re talking about, but if not I get the idea anyways haha, let’s Do It that’s so funny and cute!
-reader simping for another Imbibitor Lunae-
“WOW,” you say. You’re staring at your phone, and Dan Heng, who normally isn’t curious or nosy, must admit he’s curious at what you’re watching that would make your cheeks heat up like that.
“What are you looking at?” he asks, not caring that it’s rude to peer over your shoulder to see what’s on your screen.
You’re looking at Imbibitor Lunae. Well. A different Imbibitor Lunae.
“He’s so…hot!” you say to Dan Heng, not really thinking about what you’re saying.
You thought it was okay, because he was Imbibitor Lunae too, so you were basically calling him hot too right?
“That’s…that’s not…” he begins awkwardly. Oh he can’t explain the sensation that’s forming in him, but he is uncomfortable with it. “That’s not me,” he says it too quietly for you to hear over the sound of you fawning over a different Imbibitor Lunae.
“I wonder if he’s ever dated anyone before,” you muse. “Are Imbibitor Lunae’s usually even allowed to date?? Whatever. The point is he’s a real cutie…”
Ugh you’re simping so hard over a DIFFERENT Imbibitor Lunae.
He’s jealous. Ridiculously jealous of his past life.
But Dan Heng doesn’t know how to express that. He’s just quiet, listening as you rant about how attractive his past life was, and he feels like he’s about to explode.
Finally he speaks up.
“Y/n, please stop.”
You look up in surprise, not realizing there was a problem, and you see Dan Heng’s cheeks are ever so slightly red, and he’s reverted to his Imbibitor Lunae form.
His tail is slowly wrapping around your ankle. When you notice you let out a small gasp of surprise at the sensation of the cool scales around your skin.
“What?” you ask. You’re Genuinely confused.
“That’s Not Me,” he explains it simply.
“Oh, I just thought…OH, I’m sorry Dan Heng…” you say…the tail has snaked up your body and is now wrapping around your waist.
“Sorry, I guess I just thought…because you’re Imbibitor Lunae…”
“It’s alright,” he says, his face still a slight shade of pink. He finally notices his tail has been subconsciously wrapping around you and he lets you go, ordering his jealousy to subside.
“You’re the only Imbibitor Lunae for me, at the end of the day,” you remind him gently, missing the sensation of his tail wrapped around your waist.
He smiles at you. “I would hope so,” he says, and his tail wags ever so slightly at your words.
“Sorry I made you jealous.”
“I was not jealous,” he lies. Oh he was a terrible liar.
“Oh okay,” you smirk, but decide not to press him further.
You decide to spend the rest of the day with your boyfriend, as your way of making it up to him. You really hadn’t meant to make him jealous…you just couldn’t help you found Imbibitor Lunae attractive.
And really, who could blame you?
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#Dan Heng#Dan Heng x reader#hsr Dan Heng x reader#honkai star rail Dan Heng x reader#Imbibitor Lunae#Imbibitor Lunae x reader#hsr Imbibitor Lunae x reader#honkai star rail Imbibitor Lunae x reader
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How about ghost and König with an mentally I’ll S/O? I thought maybe like bpd?
Maybe the s/o splitting on them or them going into depression / manic phase.
Have a hard time coping right know and reading about my comfort character chills me a bit😅
Summary: How Ghost and König would help their S/O who struggles with their mental health.
Genre: Headcanons, request(s)
Characters featured: Ghost, and König.
Warnings: Mention of mental health struggles, none.
A/N: I’m sorry to hear you’re having a rough time, Anon. Your girl is struggling hard too, but we’ll feel better soon! The approach I took for this was more focused on depression and manic phase(s) given those are what I’m more familiar with. I was tempted to try to include the splitting as well, but didn’t want to approach it and do a terrible/offensive job of it. I hope you don’t mind! Also, thank you for the request! It is much appreciated. ( Gif credit: xxx )
Ghost―
Before the two of you had even agreed on becoming a couple, you’d had a long conversation about your mental health. Explaining everything you dealt with and how it could sometimes make life very difficult for you.
Thankfully, he explained that he understood more than he let on. Simply explaining that he, too, often struggled with his own mental health as well.
Over time, he’d be able to recognize the signs of when your slipping a bit. Noting if you ever stay in bed longer, skip showers, or find it difficult to do other simple tasks.
At that point, he’s unsure of what would work best for you but decides to try rather than leave you to suffer through it alone.
He’d do his best try and urge you out of bed with simple tasks that feel manageable: asks if you’d at least like to get up and change, maybe brush your teeth, comb out your hair - if you’ve any - so it doesn’t tangle and knot.
Will absolutely take care of the cooking and chores so you don’t have to worry about it. He doesn’t mind it in the slightest. If anything, it helps ease his own mind a bit to take care of mindless tasks for the both of you.
Even if it’s not to your taste, he’ll offer to brew you a hot cup of tea anyway because he swears it helps him even during the roughest of times. If tea isn’t to your liking, he’s up and running to the nearest corner store to grab you your favorite drink and a little treat.
If the mania hits, he’s a little more unsure of how to approach things but will get it over time with help. Honestly, he’d just try and roll with the punches the best he can whilst also being your support system when you need it.
Definitely a good voice of reason. If you’re anything like me and tend to constantly want to do this and that when that burst of energy hits, he’ll try and ground you a bit. Asks you what you’d prefer to do first and also does his best to discuss the things you can’t do for whatever reason.
Sure, he’ll have moments where his own stress gets to him, but he’d never take it out on you. Especially when he knows you’re dealing with mental health problems more so than usual. He’ll calmly explain that he just needs a moment to deal with himself before returning, feeling better and ready to help however you’d like him to.
Moments like those are where his touch revulsion tendencies are practically non-existent since he’s so focused on trying to make you feel better. If you want to cuddle, he’s asking which spoon you’d prefer to be. If you’d rather just be within his presence, he’s happy to stay by you and find something to read or watch together. Anything if it means helping you feel better.
König―
Despite him dealing with anxiety and such, I can see him being very hesitant and unsure of what to do at first. You’d have to talk him through everything and explain the best ways to help you during your worst moments.
Be patient with this man. I personally like to roll with the Colonel status for him -- so he’d be a bit on the older side. Possibly a little behind on the times of how to help others in the best way possible.
However, once he gets the hang of things, he’s the best support system you could ever ask for.
When those rough times roll around, he’s already going through a mental checklist of things you’ve mentioned might help make things better. When those don’t work, he begins to try some of his own tactics to help.
Isn’t the best cook, but does try his best. If even that isn’t enough, he’s jumping to order and pick up whatever you’d like. Regardless of what or where it is.
Also loves to try and ground you a bit during rough episodes, he goes through a whole routine with you sometimes. May or may not have researched them online.
Much like Ghost, König will not hesitate to help ground you with physical touch and affection. The man gives the best bear hugs and will gladly squeeze you as tight as you’d like. Also loves to snuggle and just have you in his lap to try and make you feel better.
For those more manic periods, he’s right there with you until - if ever - he senses things getting out of hand. Still does his best to do right by you though. The last thing he wants is for him to try an approach that would make things worse for you.
Really just wants to be there for you however he can, no matter the cost.
Say the word and he’s doing whatever you want or need without question, and within reason.
#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#könig x reader#konig x reader#call of duty x reader#cod headcanons#headcanons#requests#anonymous#opened mail#my writing
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Part two thoughts on an ani x bpd reader? Like, when things get that bad, does either of them wake the fuck up and realize things need to change? Remorse or guilt? The reader leaving? Ani leaving or falling into a self loathing hole, doing bad stuff again and again whether to himself or reader) and not taking care of himself?
It’s interesting to read some of your takes on BPD relationships, because I obviously have no idea what that’s like, but you do. You can make it seem very addicting, but also very terrifying and unhealthy, depending on which way the pendulum swings (I hope you take that as a compliment. Tone is hard through text. Lol. 😅).
I personally do not believe abuse is justified in any situation, whether you have a disorder or not. There’s lots of ways to deal with feelings without taking it out on someone else. On the other hand, I know some BPD’s have described feeling horrified with themselves after an episode like that, and so I’ve never really known just how much ‘control’ someone has in that moment. Either way, I still believe it’s the person’s responsibility to find a way to deal with it. Nobody deserves to be miserable around them just because they can’t handle something.
Anyway, I kind of went off on a rant. Apologies. Lol. My main request was for a part two of Ani x BPD reader! ❤️🫶✨
Not offended at all bby.
I think after I’m done with stalker!ani I’ll write a fic on this. Just cause so many people have asked about it.
100% BPD X BPD would be a terrible pairing. Coming from me as a bpd gal.
Now, personally, I’ve never physically abused anyone during an episode. But I HAVE done lots of property damage and I also broke my hand when I used a concrete wall as a punching bag. I split a wooden bat at the tip from whacking a fence once.
When it gets that bad, I don’t really remember what I said or did. I just feel really jittery, almost like an extreme caffeine high you know? (Imagine old cartoon character drinking coffee and their whole body vibrates, eyeballs and all)
But if it doesn’t get to that point, which it rarely does now that I’m medicated correctly and have a good support system, I IMMEDIATELY feel regret. Like horrible sorrow. Bpd means big feelings and when I feel regret, which isn’t often, it feels like I’m grieving a death that I’m to blame for.
For the smaller, more snappy or short outbursts:
My mouth works faster than the logical part of my brain that tells me not to say something mean.
Sometimes I catch myself in the middle of saying something awful and then I just have to finish it because the damage is done and I may as well spit it out. Then I’ll lock myself in the bathroom for an hour until I’ve hyped myself up enough to apologize, then I’ll go back to the bathroom until the big feelings from my apology die down. I’ll be quiet, basically selectively mute for the rest of the day and be super irritable.
It’s exhausting. But it’s even more exhausting to have to continually remind myself not to spew the first thing that pops into my head or not to chuck the bag of shredded cheese at the wall because I can’t get the ziploc to open.
It’s so stupid that something so small as getting my hairbrush stuck on a knot in my hair could set me off into a teeth gritting, foot stomp and shriek. Like wtf? That’s embarrassing. But it happens before I can even think about what I’m doing.
The best way I can describe it is: I’m a bratty toddler when it comes to emotional regulation.
But you’re so right tho, your illness doesn’t give you an excuse to be an ass. It just proves the person doesn’t want to put in the work to get better if they use it as a justifying reason.
BPD might cause my reactions, but I’m in charge of my actual actions. Sometimes it takes a long time for them to recognize that though. I’m an adult now, I’m medicated, I’ve spent my fair share of days in the loony bin. Looking back at my teenage self? It’s horrific and sad. For me and everyone around me back then.
#anakin fanfiction#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker#anakin smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#star wars#anakin x you#sw anakin#darth vader#darth vader smut#actually bpd#bpd vent
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I have a question about some of your Salem thoughts
If Salem is 110% certain that she can take down the Gods (assuming that's her goal since we don't actually know), why wouldn't she communicate her plan to Oz? Especially if she truly doesn't want anyone to die like you say. Oz would jump at the bit if Salem said "Hey I want to stop fighting" since that would mean their shadow war would stop. I really don't think Oz likes the Gods either, and even if he's afraid of them, if *Salem* is that confident she can stop them (she's far from an idiot), I'm sure he'd at least hear her out (which would tell Salem a LOT).
If she's that confident and truly doesn't want to fight, why wouldn't she tell Oz her new plan? And why would she kickstart her plan by attacking the kingdoms/Academies? Surely she could find a way to steal the Relics without flat out attacking them (like sending in double agents to take the Maiden powers)? Like... she would've known she'd get people killed, including children and innocent people. Even if she did damage control (which I think is just strategic, why bother going after people if she's focusing on the Relics? She's not gonna waste precious time and resources), she surely knew people would get caught in the crossfire.
Don't get me wrong, I like what you bring to the table!! Your posts are thought provoking and unique. But I can't see Salem being somehow secretly good. I don't think the show is setting her up that way, and I think she's a fantastic villain, so from my own perspective, doing that kind of twist would be a disservice to her character. I don't think she's inhuman or a complete and total monster who should go, but she's definitely not a good person especially if she can't communicate that she supposedly doesn't want people dead. She seems to be an "the ends justify the means" kind of person, and the show I think has stated that that isn't a good mindset i.e. Ironwood.
Sorry, I rambled and completely strayed from my point 😅 I don't mean to be mean if I come across that way. I hope my ask is interesting or thought provoking though :P
my position is that salem is right, not that she’s secretly good—that is an important distinction. i think she sees the gods clearly for what they are, thinks the divine ultimatum repulsive and unjust, wants remnant to be free, and believes that humanity is transcendent over their creators; she also, quite plainly, does not have any compunction about doing whatever it takes to achieve her ends and while i do think she is still fully capable of and driven by love, she is so TERRIFIED of being hurt again and so CERTAIN that no one could ever care for her that when she does care for someone else it comes out in very, very twisted and often cruel ways. she’s not good, she’s not nice, she’s just right.
equally the heroes are good but not right, because they have yet to really grapple with the premise of the divine mandate (that humanity as it exists right now does not deserve to exist) or their own role in upholding it (their immediate goal is survival, but when they envision the ending of this war they imagine salem driven back and the relics squirreled away again in hope of at best everlasting stalemate). the point of structuring the narrative this way is that neither side can get to the proverbial good ending alone; they need to work together, salem’s ends with the heroes’ means.
like. she’s evil. lol. that’s not in question and i think it goes without saying that she is doing evil things so i don’t feel the need to make a “but she’s still evil though” disclaimer every time i try to tease out what’s going on in her head. notice how my reaction to salem razing vale was OH GLINDA LAYS SIEGE TO THE EMERALD CITY, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW and not, like, shock or dismay that salem would do such a terrible thing. brgdfjs
(i DO think she has mostly been trying to avoid ozma and not reciprocating the shadow crusade against her prior to about fourteen years ago and that she isn’t about wanton destruction or killing for the sake of it; and in that sense i think she’s not as bad as the general fanon reading. but that comes with the territory of thinking she has actual reasons for doing what she does as opposed to being, like, a genocidal lunatic.)
anyway. to your questions. the short answer is she’s just as scared of oz as he is of her.
“but he’s the good one!”—think about this from her perspective for a minute. set aside your opinion of her and oz, presuppose for the moment that i’m correct on her motivations, and consider what everything ozma’s done in the last few thousand years looks like to her.
she knows that the gods were monsters. she witnessed them slaughtering the whole world and she saw how little it mattered to them after. she was alone for millions of years, and then hated and feared for thousands of years because she didn’t look human. all that suffering because the gods are punishing her for praying to them. yes?
then ozma returns to her, somehow. he doesn’t explain how or why—maybe he tells her he just doesn’t know—but that’s alright. what matters is that he’s here. he asks what happened to her, and she tells him the truth: the gods ended the world. cursed her. killed everyone. she was alone for so long. (maybe not the whole truth: there are things she’s afraid to say, because the gods did it all to punish her, and it’s her fault, and she’s so scared that he’d despise her if he knew everything. the only reason for her to fear ozma would reject her is if she blamed herself. you don’t hide things out of shame if you don’t feel ashamed of them.)
they learn each other again. fall in love all over again. things are finally okay. they fix up her house. they’re happy together. one day ozma tells her that he’s worried about how divided people are. she wants so badly to make him happy; she would move mountains for him. salem herself has no interest in ruling over people as a god—if she did, she wouldn’t have been living alone in a rotting shack in the middle of nowhere—all that enthusiasm is for him. to support what he wants.
they build a following, found a prosperous kingdom, start a family. four children! how long do you think they were married—ten years? twenty? and the whole time, the whole time, ozma was keeping these secrets from her. that the god of light, who’d condemned her to eternal suffering for praying to his brother, who’d shown utter indifference to the deaths of millions, had sent him back to redeem humanity FROM HER SINS, from what SALEM did. that the point of all this is cleansing humankind of her defiance and inviting THAT MONSTER to remnant to judge whether this world deserved to be subjugated under the brothers’ tyranny again or else be put to death.
imagine how she must have felt when ozma finally told her the truth, knowing that the first thing she told him was that the gods ended the last one. imagine the sickening realization that their whole marriage is built on a lie, because she would never, ever, ever have agreed to help him unite the world if she had known what he sought to unite them for, and ozma knew she never would. that he deceived her! manipulated her into serving the will of a god she knows to be a monster!
and even then—even to the very end—she loved him enough to try. she was willing to forgive all of that and figure out a way to move past it together, and the only thing she asked was that he walk away from his task of submitting this world to the judgment of THAT MONSTER. and he wouldn’t do it.
there’s a gap we don’t get to see, in between ozma backing away from her and salem catching him leaving with the girls, but we can infer that ozma walked out of that room and salem didn’t. imagine how she felt. ten years, twenty years, however long it was, and he was lying to her through it all, and he left her with hardly a moment’s hesitation when she refused to help him enact THAT MONSTER’S retribution against herself. because that is, ultimately, what this is all about; humanity is found guilty by association with her.
imagine how she felt. used. worthless. duped. like a fool for ever trusting him. did he ever love her at all, or was that a lie, too?
when she caught him in the hallway later that night, they both attack each other in the same instant. ozma remembers her attacking him first, but their volleys meet in perfect symmetry and right before salem throws her first bolt of magic, her eyes flicker down in surprise as she tracks the motion of his staff (which we see in the previous shot)—salem remembers him attacking her first.
because they were both so tense and scared and angry at each other that they snapped in exactly the same moment.
their battle is so intense they blow up the castle, and when the smoke clears, salem is a pile of ash. ash! he incinerated her! imagine how enraged you have to be to burn someone to ash. that level of fury, of absolute hatred of her, is literally burnt into her memory as the last thing he did to her before she managed to kill him, inextricably twisted around the guilt and unbearable grief she feels for her children.
he’s dedicated all but a handful of his lives since then to getting rid of her. finding a way to destroy her. (how far is he willing to go? what would happen if salem tried to move on, find community and solace somewhere far away from him? would he come after her? would he follow his god’s example and go after the people she cared about to punish her? is she willing to risk that he might?)
do you think salem understands why ozma did any of this? she doesn’t. she doesn’t get the luxury we do of jinn narrating his side of the story and showing us the anguish he felt, wanting so desperately to be with salem but eaten alive by terror of dooming the world for his happiness. she doesn’t know.
all she knows is how he treated her: the secrets, the deception, the manipulation, the immediate and absolute rejection when she told him no, the explosively violent anger at the end, then centuries upon centuries systematically erasing her from history and enforcing her exile whilst searching for the relics he needs to summon his god for the final judgment. which she knows will inevitably end in the annihilation of the whole world and yet more torture for her with no hope of reprieve, because if all of this was not enough to satisfy the god of light’s grudge against her for, again, just praying to his brother, nothing ever will.
salem feels about ozma now the way blake felt about adam. why did he lie to her, why did he use her, why does he keep coming back, why won’t he just LEAVE HER ALONE, hasn’t she suffered enough, hasn’t she been punished enough, when will it be enough—and intertwined with that, she is being EATEN ALIVE by the conviction that no one could ever truly care about her or feel for her or want to help her or think that she deserves help or even just see her as a person, because if ozma—ozma, the one who saved her from her father’s tower, who knew her and loved her before all of this happened—if ozma thought her so worthless that he would rather serve a god who ended the last world and promises to condemn this one too than suffer her to exist at all in this world, why the fuck would anyone else be any different?
thousands of years later, she still flies off the handle when anyone lies to her. (except cinder. but cinder is always the exception, to every rule.) there’s a reason she recruits the kind of people she does—desperate, broken, angry people starving for something she can promise to give them if they make themselves useful to her—and it’s because she does not believe that she can get anything better than strictly transactional relationships with people who have literally nothing and nowhere else to turn. and when she actually cares about someone? she fights herself tooth and claw over it because she desperately doesn’t want to open herself up to more heartbreak. look at how erratic and cruel she is with cinder.
it’s not rational. salem is smart and very, very tactically shrewd but she is making all of her plans and all of her choices from the assumption that she is and will always be alone in this, because she is unlovable, because she is worthless, because she is the reason this world is damned. and she’s terrified of ozma because to her everything he does suggests that his conviction and dedication to the god of light has never wavered. she cannot see his doubt. she cannot see his misery. she cannot see how much he misses her and desperately wants to make amends. all she can see is that he’s zealously guarding the relics and spreading his god’s word and training children to fight and die in the name of keeping her exiled.
why doesn’t ozma just go to her and tell her he wants to make amends? because he’s terrified she’ll never forgive him and terrified that he’ll damn the world to annihilation if he follows his heart. they’re the same. they’re exactly the same.
but this is also what makes it so possible—even easy—for salem to undergo a villain-to-hero arc, because the only thing that needs to happen is a spark of real hope. that someone, anyone, could really care about her. like. the things she says in her soliloquies about the transformative power of hope? “even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change,” and “it’s true that a simple spark can ignite hope, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary…”—that’s her. one small reason to hope. that is all she needs to change.
she doesn’t want to be razing kingdoms to the ground or cutting a bloody path through children to get those relics. she is willing to do it because she truly, genuinely, from the depths of her soul believes that it’s the only way to free herself from the torture she’s been subjected to for millions of years. she’s driven to this by desperation. she won’t keep doing it if she’s given a reason to feel less desperate.
but she does need to be given a reason, first. she’s hemorrhaging. this is why the winnowing of her inner circle and the split between everyone else in vacuo versus salem + cinder + summer in vale is important; Those Two are the ones she cares about—technically we don’t know for sure regarding summer yet, but the level of trust she has for the lieutenant holding beacon is suggestive—and that being reciprocated is what ignites her hope.
#she IS a fantastic villain#but what makes her so compelling as a villain is all the contradiction and tension in her character#how deeply she loves vs her deep conviction of being unlovable. not wanting to hurt people vs believing it’s the only way to free herself.#everything she does is so intensely personal and so circumscribed by the fear of rejection#these opposing forces drive change because they are pushing and shoving against each other inside her mind and the moment of culmination#occurs when one triumphs over the other. and then she changes in what i expect will be a startlingly dramatic fashion#(that doubles as writing advice btw if you want to write dynamic character arcs put unreconcilable contradictions in your characters)
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Hello! Could I please request (late season 1 early season 2) Jason Todd dating fem reader who is very affectionate headcanons?? Reader is apart of the Titans and her whole thing is she is very good at fighting and very flexible? Sorry if this is to specific 😅
Jason Todd x Affectionate!Reader Headcanons
- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -
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• Jason isn’t the best at handling affection at first, but this isn’t solely due to the life he’s lived and is partly due to him just being inexperienced in real and lasting relationships. However, he is a hopeless romantic so he picks up the ways of affection pretty quickly and is able to give you back just as much as you give to him.
• Being affectionate and flexible is definitely a huge bonus in the way that Jason sees it, and it’s pretty much every vigilante and hero’s dream to be with someone like you. Of course, other kinds of people are great too; but you just amaze and make Jason feel giddy in a way that others just can’t - especially when you cling to him and wrap around him so he chant leave your affectionate grasp.
• The comparison between your affectionate side and the side of you reserved for fights is highly different, and he can really see this when you come back from a harsh mission and are straight to him with love and care. He loves this duality and it compliments his brash personality very well.
• Jason isn’t huge on PDA around the other titans, especially when he may not be on the best of terms with them. He wants you all to himself, and he feels like he needs to maintain his serious persona around the others in the hopes of being taken as a responsible person, even though he can’t help but bask in the glory of being the “new and improved” Robin.
• You’re both quite busy with the new lives you’re having to find a way through, so when it comes to occasions or events like anniversaries or Valentine’s Day he really does try his best. He may not be able to make a long day out of it, but he definitely will soil you with Bruce’s card and show you how much affection he can give back to after all you’ve given him.
• After all he’s been though, Jason is definitely touch starved and hasn’t been able to find a source of making him feel better until you came along. He never truly knew what affectionate hands and touches felt like until you happily showed him, which absolutely leads him to crave it whenever you’re not around.
• When Jason’s had an extremely tough day or something terrible has happened to him he needs your affection to calm him down and stop him from making truly stupid decisions. He can’t think properly and he’s buzzing with all the emotions he’s kept inside for so long, meaning that you’re the only thing that can bring him down back to rationality and see the tender side of things through your affection and love.
#jason todd x you#jason todd titans#dc jason todd#jason todd dc#jason todd x y/n#jason todd headcanons#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood x y/n#red hood x you#red hood headcanons#red hood x reader#red hood#dc x you#dc x reader#dc comics headcanons#dcu titans#dc titans#dc robin#dc comics
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Hello!
For the Snapedom AU Ask game, can I get your answers to 1, 2, 5, 6, 9, and 26?
1.) Do you have a name and/or a tag and/or a master post for your AU (so I can peruse your blog and admire your creativity)?
2.) What is the premise of your AU (one sentence summary, tropes, your big “What-if” question, etc.!)?
5.) What are the major divergence points in your AU?
6.) Is there any part of the canon narrative you really like to build off of or interrogate with your AU?
9.) How and why does your AU!Snape differ from the canon!Snape?
26.) Does Severus have any major interests (mycology, astronomy, sci-fi, baking elaborate puff pastries, art forgery, etc.) in your AU that we never got to see canon!Snape indulge in? Do these interests play a major narrative role?
i'm sorry, if you ask me about my AU, i will infodump 😔🙏🏻
1.) Do you have a name and/or a tag and/or a master post for your AU (so I can peruse your blog and admire your creativity)?
Yes! SlythenclawAU!Snape. it's quite meh but i never really took the time to think of one.
2.) What is the premise of your AU (one sentence summary, tropes, your big “What-if” question, etc.!)?
A long time ago there was a teenager in boarding school who got tired of waiting for the 5th Harry Potter book and decided to make a Snape-centered sequel herself (it's not particularly focused on anything but the ✨ fluffy romance 💖).
5.) What are the major divergence points in your AU?
Honestly, it’s easier to point out the parts in common 😅
It’s only canon-compliant up to Goblet of Fire (with some parts of OOTP included now), meaning Severus was pretty much a blank canvas. We knew he was a smart skinny bastard who disliked the Marauders and was about to resume his job as a DE spy, that was it. As a result, his background is completey different. He has a different family, a different childhood (still terrible), different motivations, different traumas, and Lily was never even a thing.
6.) Is there any part of the canon narrative you really like to build off of or interrogate with your AU?
Not so much one part in particular, but there are themes I like to think about (I won’t say write, I haven’t written a thing in years). Everything that has to do with guilt and forgiveness is interesting to explore with Severus, because he’s both a victim and a culprit: how to forgive, should one forgive, how to make amends, isn’t asking for forgiveness selfish and placing the weight of the pardon on the victim, how to live with guilt when some things can’t be forgiven... In the same vein I like to explore his guilt towards Lucius, who is a genuine friend and a genuine Death Eater; he feels guilty for betraying his friend, and feels guilty for still considering the man a friend.
9.) How and why does your AU!Snape differ from the canon!Snape?
I think the major difference (apart from no Lily) is that he’s more adjusted as an adult. It’s not necessarily visible to the Hogwarts staff or students 😬 the teeth incident or his breakdown at the end of POA are still a thing and the British wizarding world really brings out the worst in him.
But he actually has a solid support network in the form of siblings and adoptive parents he met when he was 21. They live abroad and he keeps them secret to avoid DE retaliation so they don’t meet often, but still they are very supportive and it has helped him a lot sorting things out during his late twenties/early thirties. Having this one anchor, being loved and loving them back, has really done him a lot of good and he strives to better himself (at least in private). By the time his love interest appears, some things have healed enough that it’s not her job to fix him, she merely becomes yet another support to help deal with the rest (and the first one in the Brit WW). Don’t worry, he still has nightmares, and tons of guilt, and petty tantrums, but overall he’s in a better place than canon!Snape and has hope for the future.
Also I don’t usually include Occlumency/Legilimency.
Ho and he’s very French (sorry not sorry)
26.) Does Severus have any major interests (mycology, astronomy, sci-fi, baking elaborate puff pastries, art forgery, etc.) in your AU that we never got to see canon!Snape indulge in? Do these interests play a major narrative role?
Yes! he’s a huge nerd (the kind who solves equations for fun when he can’t sleep), so he likes to study a lot of things.
Apart from normal magic things, he’s very knowledgeable about human anatomy and medecine, it makes him a better brewer and practitioner of healing magic (also his brother studied Muggle medecine for a while + his brother’s adoptive father was a heart surgeon). He is also an exellent cook (who doesn't eat much), because what’s the difference between Wolfsbane and mayonnaise, you just put stuff in a big saucepan and stirr dutifully it’s the same thing really.
Both those skills are pretty much background stuff; but there is one big hobby that is very important in his life, for several reasons: playing the piano 🙌🏻✨
He is very attached to it because his mother taught him (and she died young) and it’s his one pastime and antidepressant. He will focus on fast-paced pieces when his anxieties keep him awake, will hammer away his anger when he’s had a row with someone... it helps him calm down and clear his mind, and sometimes he will learn complicated parts just for the fun of it simply because he enjoys himself. He is a selfish pianist however. Music is very private to him, he is not a performer and will only do it sometimes for very close people he loves. He owns two pianos, his mother's grand piano at home (which has been through some stuff and is his most prized possession), and a baby grand at Hogwarts gifted by his siblings when he started teaching (it was needed for his mental health and the not-murdering of students). He’s learned how to tune his piano the Muggle way (the only true way, it sounds better, and yes of course he’s pedantic about it) and can talk about the links between mathematics and music for hours. Also +30 years of piano training have given him an acute sense of rhythm and very precise motricity skills that are highly valuable in potions work.
His lover being a musician herself (of the performer kind), music is very important in their relationship and has been central in their getting together. In fact, she first kissed him as they were playing together, so his sister jokes he would never have gotten laid if not for the piano she gifted him (she’s right)(his entourage also jokes sometimes about the kind of fingering skills a pianist with decades of experience has)(he hates it)(because he’s a giant prude)(they’re also right)
#ask games answers#Snapedom AU Ask Game#snape au#SlythenclawAU!Snape#i definitely stole momo's AU masterpost idea when i saw it#i can't be concise for the life of me#why write two lines when you can write two paragraphs#one has to be exhaustive!#because reasons#might be neurodivergent reasons now that i think of it#snape fandom#snape community
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as if
Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader
Word Count: ~600
CW: alcohol
Emergency Request Fulfilled: This year, especially this summer has been really rough and the past few days, it's kind of caught up and I've been feeling very down and lost kind of neglected. I was wondering if you could write a drabble or something for demon slayer with a reader that has been feeling that way and with some agnst and comfort with Giyuu, Sanemi or Tengen and (if you write for him, idr if you do 😅) Ubuyashiki. Preferably romantic but platonic is fine too.
“Feeling low?”
His voice catches you off guard; an almost lyrical inflection coated by familiar gruffness, the cold bite of winter numbing his intended concern to a flat tone.
“Yeah,” you mutter, refusing to meet his lilac stare, “Something like that.”
He strides closer, bodily presence impossible to ignore. You’re certain if you glanced up that his shirt would be undone — despite the chill in the sparsely crowded tavern.
“Y’know, it isn’t healthy to mull over death alone.”
“So how do you spend your time in between missions, Shinazugawa-san?” you retort softly, waving an uninterested hand in his direction, “By all means, enlighten me.”
Laughing coolly, Sanemi drags out the chair beside you, sitting lazy and spread in its wooden seat, hazy threads of burnt jasmine and damp earth wafting toward you.
“I train. I bathe. I check in on my fellow slayers.”
Snorting lightly, you finally fix a dithering expression on his earnest gaze, nearly swallowing your quip at the faint glow in his eyes, “Ah, well, good to know you care about your personal hygiene.”
Blinking slowly, his brow furrows, arms crossing over the bareness of his chest, “You believe me?”
“Believe what?” you scoff amusedly, “I’ve never known you to justify yourself to anyone.”
Scowling, his arms cross tighter, skin aching with fatigue, “Your approval doesn’t matter to me.”
You shrug, “Okay.”
You return to your tokkuri, sake still warm as you pour yourself another cup, its sharp scent stinging your nose when you take a slow, pointed sip.
Thud.
A matching cup slams ungracefully onto the counter, taunting air thickening around you as you glare at the scarred fingers beckoning slyly. With a long exhale, you fill his cup.
“Just making small talk,” he murmurs, saccharine and smug, “I appreciate your generosity.”
“You’re terrible,” you huff, hastily downing another cup, noting the abrupt loss of weight in the tokkuri with dismay, “Shinazugawa-san, I didn’t think you drank.”
Cup pinched between his thumb and index fingertips, Sanemi sniffs carefully, face scrunching at the clean tang of fermentation. He sets the cup aside, humming in agreement.
You snap, mouth twisting frustrated and impatient, voice hushed and scathing, “Why harass me into sharing with you if you’re not even going to try it?”
“Someone died,” he replies blandly, cup lifted and tilted, alcohol gone in a single, smooth movement, “On my watch.”
Unimpressed, you resist the urge to kick the leg of his chair, knowing he’d likely block and consequently injure you instead, “So you sought out the nearest slayer to console yourself?”
“I’m not the consoling type.”
And then he touches your wrist.
It’s a fleeting, mindless gesture, and yet it extends on for forever, overflowing with consideration and contemplation, never thoughtless because it’s him. It’s Shinazugawa-san—unapproachable, distant, angry—Shinazugawa Sanemi. He doesn’t acknowledge his proximity, bumping demandingly against the back of your hand, this time reaching for the tokkuri.
“Distract?” you squeak, overly conscious of how clear your quickening pulse must sound.
“Mhm,” he nods, hoping you’re fixated enough on your own nerves to miss how delicately his are fraying too.
“You can be pretty cruel,” you sniff, dizzying chewiness in your head making it harder and harder to forget the calloused graze of his clammy heat, “Buy me a drink?”
“Whatever.”
He laughs—an abrupt, staccato laugh—nonchalantly ordering another round of your sake, all too aware of the tenderness melting the stiffness from your attention. Of the discomforting pressure in his sternum when you grin triumphantly. As if I didn’t let you win.
As if you could ever lose.
#sanemi shinazugawa#shinazugawa sanemi#sanemi x reader#shinazugawa x reader#wind hashira#drabble#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer
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I understand and agree the very observant would probably adjust to life in Israel very quickly. I know there’s a lot of Israelis that are secular as well, and I think they live ok? I don’t know for sure. To my understanding though, the government is tilted to favor the more observant Jew. As someone who isn’t terribly religious, that concerns me as much as the bombs and the bomb shelters. As far as stuff like the weather, to each their own. I grew up experiencing Lake effect snow storms and still do. I couldn’t handle year round hot weather. Where I live, a 60 degrees Fahrenheit and a sunny day happening before the summer heat descends is considered an opportunity to wear shorts and sunbathe.
I respect your opinion and I’m glad you feel at home in Israel. To me, personally, trading a bomb shelter and bombs to escape colleges students aspiring to be terrorists isn’t a trade off that nets a positive gain. To me, it’s the same.
That being said, I hope you, your husband, and the growing baby are doing well. 🙂.
I think the key here is that, again, I have lived in both Israel and the diaspora so I can confidently state where I prefer to live. I see a lot of Israeli Jews and a lot of Diaspora Jews both saying they’d prefer to live elsewhere but none of them have actually tried. So their opinion is based on perception and not fact. I’m not discounting their opinions as invalid but it’s worth acknowledging that they’re based in theory, not actual experiences they’ve had.
Yes, our current government is more conservative and does favor a more religious society but that’s not indicative of our population as a whole and even many religious Jews don’t favor our current government and didn’t vote for them. I also think it’s dangerous to say that more observant Jews would adjust to life in Israel quickly because that’s not an accurate statement. I, as an observant Jew, find being observant here is easier than in the diaspora - my level of observance doesn’t make life here easier, my life is easier because my level of observance is accommodated for in Israel unlike in other countries. Many religious Jews move from the diaspora and struggle with things just as secular olim would. Anyone moving from any country to another will struggle to adapt to that country. An Italian who grew up in New York will struggle to fit in in Italy. It’s the same thing. They’re different places and even if some of the practices may be the same, they’re still different cultures and customs, etc etc etc.
I need everyone to be careful not to paint Israel and Israelis with such a broad stroke brush. Just like every country, we are diverse and nuanced. Just like every country, those differences both cause difficulties and are what make Israel and Israelis so great. Half of the people in my life are not religious in the way that I am and they are all proud Israelis who would never want to live elsewhere. Some of them despise our current government and I have a few secular friends that vote Likud and always have. Again - it’s important not to fall into the same propaganda trap that we see with the pro-H@mas group that all Israelis are radical zealots with close minded viewpoints that enable us all to support a problematic government. That assessment applies to like 0.0001% of the Israeli population. Israelis are not a monolith, our government and levels of religious observance cannot be viewed through a monolithic lense. That’s just not how life works.
Bottom line - I don’t care where y’all want to live. Everyone should be able to live where they want to live. I just think a lot of diaspora Jews in particular essentially talk themselves out of living in Israel because it’s just unfamiliar to them and they feel that it makes them a bad Jew for not wanting to live here. Which is inaccurate because again, I don’t think anyone cares. I certainly don’t. Live where you want to live. Jew do Jew.
Thanks for the well wishes. Eye injuries aside, we’re all doing great BH 😅
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If you're still doing the salty ask game, can you do 4, 9, 12, and 19
Hiya Luce! Yep i’m still accepting requests for the salty ask game, and I apologize this took me a bit, I kind of went on a rant for number 19! Also I answered two of these for Black Clover and two for FFVII! I hope you enjoy!
4 Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?*
I’ve answered this a couple of times for BC already and I don’t feel like repeating myself again so I’m going with FFVII this time 😆; and my biggest NoTP is Cloud x Aerith, and yes they are a very popular OTP 😅. I just really like them as friends, family, or platonic soulmates whose love is different then that of romantic partners love! Also right behind that is Zack x Tifa and thats because it feels like people are just “pairing the spares” 😔.
(As I always say; if you ship these ships then good for you, and I fully support you in loving these ships!)
9 Most disliked character(s)? Why?
Hmm…in Black Clover? I guess aside from the usual suspects (Sekke, Auggie, Alecdora, etc) it would have to be; Jester, Sally, and Damnatio.
Jester…I like him in fanon, but dislike him in canon. In canon he’s annoying to me and not in a fun and “gremlin” way like in fanon (or at least, in mine and my mutuals fanon 😆). I really just didn’t vibe with him in the movie and couldn’t wait for him to disappear 😔.
Sally is also more of a “i don’t vibe with them”. She’s just very…extra? But not in a good way. And imo she takes things too far and comes off as annoying like Jester. I’ve tried to like her, i really have, but she just doesn’t vibe with me at all.
Damnatio is amazing in fanon! But in canon? He comes across as a bit…boring when compared to other characters in the series, at least to me. Maybe it’s intentional on Tabs part, or maybe its because we don’t see him very much, but to me he is very blah and uninteresting as a character (even tho his magic is kind of cool)!
12 Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?
Hmm…I guess the Devil Believer arc in BC? Thats really the only unpopular arc i can think of 😅. To me the concepts and ideas it introduces are interesting (such as showing us what happened on the ground during the elf invasion, showing us directly how those with very low mana are treated in the country, etc;) even tho they weren’t executed very well. I feel like that arc had/has a lot of potential in it, so I do enjoy it despite its many…many, many faults!
19 What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?
Since there isn’t anything in the BC fandom that I hate, I’ll go with another fandom that I lurk in which is FFVII! The thing I hate most about it is the toxicity, ship wars, and character hate!
My poor mutuals have had to hear me complain about it many times recently, but its just…so freaking bad rn! I’m trying to find cute art, fics, and headcanons but instead all I see are people arguing about song lyrics, words and meanings and context in scenes, and even going as far as to threaten and argue with the writers and developers of the game (hell and even some going as far as to argue and threaten streamers and gamers over their freaking fan theories)😭! Like I get it, this happens in every big fandom, but maybe its because I’ve been in a small one for so long…but this is just a bit much and kind of took a lot of the joy I had for the game away (There is a lot of good and fun in the fandom too, its just a little harder to find these days)!
And the ship wars are just, really, really terrible (it doesn’t help that they’ve been going on for nearly 30 years!)! Again, I understand this is in every big fandom with a bunch of popular ships, but really is it that hard to scroll past or block and ignore 😭?? I just don’t see the point in arguing about them; you like what you like, i like what I like, and let’s just agree to disagree! This is another one of those “I’ve been in a small fandom too long” because most of the mutuals and people I follow either scroll past when they see a ship they don’t like, or they go “I may not like it, but I see how much you do, and I support you in that!”.
The character hate…*sigh* again, I get it and I know not everyone is going to like the same characters…but there comes a point where its too much! When you have to mischaracterize them completely, or point to scenes that the writers have gone back and changed/retconned/removed in order to “prove how much of a terrible character they are”, or you have to focus on this one “terrible thing” that particular character did while ignoring the terrible things that other characters did…just shows me that you’re willing to make up whatever you want in order to excuse your useless hate for that character! (You can literally just go; “eh I don’t vibe with them/they’re not my cup of tea” and leave it at that 😭!!)!
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Hi!
I’m not sure if this is how you request things as Ive never really done it before so I hope this is ok😅
I saw you write for yona and so I was wondering if you could write A L and U for Zeno and Kija from the yandere alphabet?
Note: You did it right, no worries!
Letters: A, L, U
Includes: Yandere Zeno and Ki-Ja from “Akatsuki no Yona”
Format: Headcanons; 2nd person
WARNING(S): Yandere themes
LINKS: Akatsuki no Yona Masterlist
ZENO
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
⠀⠀Love with Zeno is an emotional rollercoaster in itself. If you hadn't known any better you'd say he's never truly been in love, at least not this way. Anything that gets his hands on you is a “yes!” for him. Physical affection i s the quickest way to get his heart drumming against his chest, so if he kisses or hugs you; don't be surprised! He swears he can hardly control himself.
⠀⠀Truthfully, he wishes to live in your skin, melted and merged into one. Lulled by the gentle beating of your heart. There's not a moment he's not yearning for you wherever you may be, for every moment he spends without you feels like an eternal hell upon his being. You could say it's suffocating; I mean, you have no personal space! It's as though no matter where you look, the paths you turn, Zeno will always follow.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
⠀⠀One thing for certain, he’s not exactly subtle with his advances. He's all for being in your personal space, even when you aren't together. Sitting a bit too close to you when you spend your time by a running stream. Subtly wiping the sugary cream of pastries off your pretty lips, hastily licking it off his thumb.
⠀⠀Being the glutton he is, sharing food isn't always his cup of tea. However, he loves you so take as much as you want! Whenever he’s craving your touch, he’s quick to find it. So if you don't notice by then, it'll only get more and more extreme by the day. So pick your poison.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
⠀⠀Not exactly, but that depends on your opinion of a “classic Yandere”. Zeno's awfully dependent on you, requiring your time and attention to function in his daily life. With the time he’s spent in this wretched world, Zeno has plenty of emotional baggage to go around! Whenever he’s consumed by sorrow, he seeks your comfort. When he isn’t by your side, a genuine smile does not dare overtake his features. It’s insane!
⠀⠀Zeno is also manipulative, unintentionally. He’d never want to make you uncomfortable, heavens no! Puppy dog eyes are quick to make you falter, weighing you with ineffable amounts of guilt for telling him off. Catering to a man thousands of years old must be exhausting, especially if you are unable to convey your displeasure. In this life, escaping Zeno will never be an option. If you do, guilt will forever be eating away at your sanity.
KI-JA
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
⠀⠀He's not the worst. But if you enjoy people extending themselves to please you, then perhaps he's the best. Ki-Ja is so terribly shy so anything physical is rather difficult for him to approach. His usually pale skin would practically erupt like a volcano, accompanied by a soft mist emitting from his skin. Even as your lover, he's still unable to approach you. (Non-akwardly)
⠀⠀Even Ki-Ja knows his boundaries. He's delusional, not stupid. He can grow quite hysterical at times, admittedly so, however there is a line he is not willing to cross. That being said, he'll likely start competing amongst his peers in order to win your attention over. It's unnecessarily, honestly, but once his mind is set, there's no stopping him.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
⠀⠀It’s a long and painful process to witness. Ki-Ja feels like a blundering fool the way he stammers in your presence, it's like every ounce of composure and elegance he’s tried so diligently to keep up, has slipped from his grasp like water. It’s just that…you make his heart beat so wildly he can hardly control himself. In all honesty, he's a virgin to feelings like these so cut him some slack (no, don't).
⠀⠀Ki-Ja is quite literally tripping over himself when he finally approaches/confesses to you. The loud thumping that reached his ears whenever you’re in his presence makes him come undone. The softness of your voice turns him to mush. Oh how badly he wishes to kiss those lips, practically begging for his touch. Whoops, he said that out loud!
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
⠀⠀Again, it depends on your definition of a “classic yandere”. His loyalty is undeniable. He wishes to serve you and you alone. Much like Zeno, Ki-Ja would never actively try to make you uncomfortable. But it seems it’s inevitable with his unhealthy way of loving you (hovering over you.) Yes, he's extremely protective of you, but it can't be that bad right?
⠀⠀Not to mention, he's a sucker for praise, he can't get enough of it. Everything he does is to please you. He gets so flustered by the thought of your praise, it's nearly laughable. He's honest, I'll give him that. But it seems like the sweet, harmless man you cared for is not what he seems. But the lengths he'll go to please you are truly outrageous. Oh, you want to know how far he'll go? I'll leave that up to your imagination.
#—🍁#x reader#yandere x darling#yandere imagines#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere alphabet#akatsuki no yona scenarios#akatsuki no yona imagines#akatsuki no yona headcanons#akatsuki no yona#yona of the red dawn#yona of the dawn scenarios#yona of the dawn headcanons#zeno yona#yona kija
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Calling In
Another Ste/ddie snz fic! 😅
Summary: Steve is sick and hopes that he won’t have to call off of work tomorrow. Eddie thinks he’s delusional. 1k.
Warnings: Some coughing. Not too much mess (nothing like what I sometimes write, anyway).
Notes: I wrote a rough draft of this for myself a month or two ago. I came across it today and decided to clean it up and post it. At this point, I’m a one-trick pony, but the “heart” wants what it wants. 💖
~*~
Steve had been forced to stay home today, having been taken down by a terrible head cold. Eddie came home from work to find him bundled up on the couch, looking like he’d just woken up from a nap. It pulled at something in his chest, seeing Steve so vulnerable like this.
After having dinner and catching each other up on their day (not that Steve has much to report), they’re snuggled back on the couch, watching TV.
“Baybe I’ll be well enough to go to work toborrow…” Steve muses hopefully.
Eddie shoots him an incredulous look. “You think you’re going to be better enough to work tomorrow?” His eyes flick to the pile of tissues currently surrounding Steve. The man can barely make it through a sentence without sniffling, sneezing, or coughing. He’s constantly holding a bundle of tissues up to his face because his nose is totally out of control and lord knows what might come out.
“Idt could happedn!” Steve says indignantly, into the aforementioned wad of kleenex. He gives a productive blow while glaring at Eddie, eyes tired and red-rimmed.
“Okay, we’ll see how you feel tomorrow morning,” Eddie relents. It isn’t worth it, and he doesn’t want to start an argument that would stress Steve out when he should be taking it easy. Steve nods like the matter is settled. Then he tilts his head back, eyes closing, inhaling a shaky breath before – “haaah…hah’ESSSHH’oo!” With the soaked mass of tissues still pressed to his face, he sheepishly looks at Eddie and asks, “Cand you bmake be some tea?”
Eddie chuckles, giving him a soft look. “Sure, sweetheart.” He pushes back the hair that had fallen into Steve’s face before heading into the kitchen.
[…]
The next morning, Steve wakes up feeling just as bad as yesterday – if not worse. Blearily, he comes to, his nose somehow both crusted over and still running. It’s even on his pillow and he feels disgusting. He draws in a breath, throat dry from a night of mouth-breathing and no water, and immediately breaks into a crackling, chesty cough that makes him curl into himself. He tries his best to cover with his hand, which is now a mess, having just used it to wipe his nose.
As he’s catching his breath, the fit mostly over with, Eddie steps into the room, still in his pajamas and holding two cups of coffee.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Concern shines in his big eyes. “You sound awful.” He sits on the edge of the bed next to Steve, setting both mugs on the nightstand and grabbing several tissues from the box there, handing them over. “Here.”
Steve takes them gratefully and presses them to his poor nose. “Tha-ahhh- hih’KISSSHHH’uu! Ugh. Thaggs.” He blows his nose, which tickles his throat and causes him to cough up more gunk from his lungs. When it’s over, he turns to lay on his back again, groaning. “Oh god…”
Eddie pats his hip through the covers. “Still feel like going to work today?” he asks, trying and failing to keep a hint of smugness from his voice.
Steve groans again, this time in frustration, as he rolls over and buries his face into the pillow, hiding from Eddie. “You’re so bmean.” His words are muffled into the plush fabric.
Eddie laughs. “Hey, I’m not mean! I brought you coffee.”
Steve peeks an eye open, reminded of the mug on the nightstand next to him. He can barely smell, but what he can, smells good.
“And I have the day off, so I can stay with you all day.” Eddie gives him a little poke through the thick comforter.
“Are you gonna be nice?”
“Baby, I’ll be so nice it’ll blow your socks off. I’ll get you anything you want.” Eddie pauses, carding a hand through Steve’s messy hair. “Should I get the phone so you can call in?”
“Ha-knxxgt! SNF. Yeah.” Steve pouts a little in defeat. Eddie’s vindication over being right is dulled a bit by how pathetic Steve looks.
“Okay, I’ll be right back. Sit tight.”
Steve sits up and tries to clear the grittiness from his voice so he’ll sound somewhat human. It only makes him cough more. Grabbing his coffee off the nightstand, he takes a few sips, the warm liquid helping to soothe his throat.
Eddie comes back and hands him the cordless phone, picking up his own mug and settling into the other side of the bed. Steve dials the number.
“SNF. Hey, Robidn.” His voice is a rough croak. “I thigk I’b godda have to stay hombe agaidn. I’b still-hah…. still- ihhh-hih’ERSSSH’IUE! Ugh. Really sick.” He moans and rubs his nose. Eddie presses a tissue into his hand, which he gratefully accepts. “Yeah. I’b – hih….heh’AESSSHOO! I’b sorry.” He buries his face into the tissue and gives a couple of soft blows. Robin’s voice filters through the line, tinny.
“I dod’t wand to get adyone else sigk,” Steve responds. “And besides, Eddie would probably kill me if I tried to combe idn today.” He glances at Eddie with a tired smile. Eddie nods his head in silent agreement and sips his coffee.
“Okay. Hih’ISSHHH’ah! I will. Thaggs.” He ends the call and sets the phone down on the side table. “Well, that’s done.” He has just enough time to snap the ruined bundle of tissues back up to his face before – “ih’KISSH! Hah’TISSHSH!” He gives an exhausted blow before clearing his throat. “I thigk I bmight go back to sleeb.”
“Can you stay awake long enough for some breakfast? You should probably eat.”
“Just – hih’AEESSH’UE! Just wake be up agaidn whedn it’s ready.” He lays down again, curling onto his side.
“Alright, baby, I can do that.” Eddie rubs his back. “You have any requests?”
“Hmm… pancakes.”
“Pancakes?” Eddie says dramatically. “It’s a high ask, but your wish is my command.” He presses a kiss to Steve’s shoulder before getting up to make breakfast.
#snzblr#snzfic#snz fic#can't get enough of my fav characters describing how miserable they are it's always 💯💯💯🥵#snz fics#snzfics
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