#they never do anything to help me improve or encourage me

[aliceramblez]

Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #husker x reader #husk x reader

[fixyourwritinghabits]

FINISHED MY MANUSCRIPT AND YEETED IT AT MY LIT AGENT time to get some slee - oh shit NaNoWriMo is here.

Erm.

Right, so if you're like me and you have the opening line of your NaNo project and a vague idea, I'd still like to encourage you to take part in NaNoWriMo. A large number of responses I get at this time are people who drop out in the first week. You have a whole month! If you need some nudging to stay in the game, please consider:

Any writing done by the end of the month is more writing than you had before. The biggest benefit of NaNoWriMo is having accomplished something, be it 50000 words or a couple of chapters. Using NaNo as a tool to carve out writing time can be really useful, and it's worth giving a try if you've had trouble figuring out how to get things done.

You don't have to write a book. You don't even have to work on the same project every day! Whatever needs writing - those fanfic drabbles, that personal essay you really want to publish, those three ideas you can't pick between - can be written during NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo is a great way to connect with other writers, both local and online. Listen, it's hard to find other writers. My current group is spread across the world and we have trouble pinning down Discord meetups. Sometimes finding an in-person group can really help, but how to do that is hard. NaNoWriMo can be a chance to find people you vibe with - or don't vibe with, but can sit next to for an hour to write in silence. Anything helps.

No writing is bad writing. Even if you never look at it again, sitting down to write is like working out. You are practicing and improving your skills, even if you don't realize it. The only way to get better is to keep doing it.

You don't have to win. You don't have to write every day. You can even lower your goals to 300 words a day and still being doing NaNo, because you're putting in the work.

You can jump back into NaNoWriMo at any time. Have a bad day? A bad week? A final exam you must spend all your time and energy on? Don't give up on Day 3, Day 15, or Day 25. Every day of the month can be a new opportunity to write, no matter how many setbacks you have.

If you've never done NaNoWriMo before, give it a try! If you've tried it before and pounding out a novel in a month doesn't work for you, make NaNoWriMo your own thing. A paragraph a day, a drabble a week - whatever keeps your words flowing, this is the perfect month to set goals and try things out to figure out your writing styles.

Good luck!

#NaNoWriMo #good lord am I going to need luck lmao

[missukiyo]

ON THIN ICE

— ice skater! satoru gojo x reader

cw: ice skating au, established relationship, comfort, reader is slightly clumsy, fluff fluff fluff!!

wc: 1.3k

a/n: this was rotting in my drafts for a while now so i figured to js hit and dip. reblogs and comments are much appreciated. feedback is also v much appreciated.

Ice skating had always seemed like a breeze when Satoru was around. His expert moves and confident demeanour made it look effortless, almost like gliding on air. But as you struggled to keep your balance on the frozen surface, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the hang of it.

“‘Toru ‘m gonna fall. ‘m gonna fa—”

You felt your legs wobble as you tried to desperately grab onto something— anything, to make sure you wouldn’t slip. Yet despite your efforts, you found yourself falling onto the icy surface anyway. But just as your back was about to meet the unforgiving ice, your boyfriend, Satoru, swiftly maneuvered to hoist you up. His strong arms grabbed your underarms, minimum effort required to bring you back up on your feet.

With almost two decades of experience, Satoru Gojo had mastered the art of ice skating, becoming a seasoned pro on the frozen surface. Years and years of skating had turned him into a figure skating genius— shaped by countless hours of practicing and honing his skills. So naturally, when you accepted his proposal to be his girlfriend, you knew sooner or later that you’d have to get accustomed to the ice your boyfriend loves to skate in. And what better day to do it than today?

“Easy there, gorgeous. Don’t want my precious baby to get hurt” Satoru chuckled, a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he helped you regain your balance.

“I told you I would fall!” You whined, lips forming into a pout as Satoru spun you around, slowly yet steadily.

Mischief sparkled in his cerulean orbs. “Not on my watch” he retorted, shooting you one of his ‘infamous’ smirks.

“And how are you so sure?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Your skeptical question had only earned a chuckle in response. “Only a fool would let a girl like you fall, Y/N. Besides, you’re adorable when you’re in my arms, baby. Kinda hard to resist ya know?”

He shot you a wink, making your cheeks turn red.

“You’re so cheesy ‘Toru!”

“Just for you, darling. Now, shall we hit the ice again?” You pout at the mention of his request, not wanting to make a fool out of yourself again.

“Aww c’mon Y/N, don’t give me that frown. Hold my hand if you need to, okay?”

You almost rolled your eyes. “Fine” you grumbled, reluctantly grabbing onto the hand he outstretched for you.

Satoru grinned, intertwining his fingers with yours as you both glided across the smooth ice. The chilly air nipped at your cheeks, but the warmth of Satoru’s hands provided enough comfort.

His skilled movements showcased the grace that came from years and years of practice. Gliding alongside him, you tried your best to mimic his steps, stumbling but never falling.

Despite your initial reluctance, your movements became more fluid, your steps more confident, as you found your own rhythm in this waltz on ice, managing to keep up with Satoru for the most part despite you only just starting.

You soon found yourself enjoying it.

“See it’s not that bad right?” Satoru flashed you an encouraging smile, his thumb gently running circles on the back of your hand. “You’re getting the hang of it, baby. You’re a natural.”

Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

You took a deep breath, determination flashing in your eyes as you gently pulled away from Satoru’s comforting embrace. Looking up at him, you muster a small smile. “I wanna try it on my own this time, Toru. I think I can do it.”

“Oh, confident now, are we? Alright Y/N. You’re on your own now.”

You nervously took a few strides of your own. Skating by yourself was far different from skating hand-in-hand with Satoru.

Yet with each graceful twirl and every carefully executed step, you could feel a subtle improvement beginning to form. The once awkward strides began to adopt a graceful rhythm as you glide your way across the ice.

“‘Toru ‘Toru! ‘m doing it! ‘m doing it! I think ‘m actua— Oh fu—“ Everything seemed to be going well until you hit a small patch of ice, causing you to wobble and immediately stumble. Your legs wobbled and panic set in, but just as you were about to lose your balance, Satoru swiftly moved towards you, enveloping you in his arms as he caught you with ease.

He kept his promise. Satoru always kept his promises.

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling both embarrassed and grateful for his quick reflexes. Your hands made their way to Satoru’s chest, hands balled into tiny fists as they clung onto his jacket.

“Whoa there, Y/N. Almost lost you there, didn’t we?” He chuckled as he helped you back up before bringing you into his arms. Yet when he saw the frown etched on your face, and the way your lip wobbled, had his smile disappearing in mere seconds.

“You okay, Y/N? You don’t look too we—” Before he could even finish his sentence, you had wrapped your hands around his waist, burying your head in his chest. As if it were instinct, he immediately hugged you back, chin resting on the top of your head as he rubbed soothing circles along your back.

“Easy there, darling. Shhh… it’s ok. I’ve got you. What’s wrong?” He asked, cupping your cheeks with his hands, his eyes softening.

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact. “I just… I thought I could do it on my own... I’m sorry….”

“Aww baby… you have nothing to be sorry about. ‘s your first time, and you’re bound to make mistakes.” Satoru encouraged, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You sighed looking up at him. “But you make it look so easy. I feel like I’m just slowing you down.”

Satoru immediately shook his head. “Well I’ve had a bit more practice, haven’t I? Even then, I wasn’t nearly as good as you when I first started.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “You’re just saying that.”

“I meant every word” he whispered back. Satoru planted a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling you closer, the warmth of his embrace providing you with comfort and reassurance.

“Just take your time, Y/N. We’ll get there together, okay?” he whispered, his words filled with sincerity and unwavering support

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. Resting your head against his chest, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

"I guess I'll just have to keep practicing then, huh?" you mused, looking up at him with a small smile.

Satoru grinned, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I guess that means more time on the ice for us. Not that I'm complaining, of course."

You couldn't help but giggle at his playful banter, feeling a sense of lightheartedness wash over you. You felt a warmth spread through your heart, knowing that you had someone like Satoru by your side. With a contented sigh and a heartwarming smile gracing your lips, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling grateful for his support and encouragement.

“Thank you, ‘Toru. For everything.” You whispered, feeling truly blessed to have him in your life.

“Anytime, darling. I’ll always be here for you.” Satoru replied, pressing yet another kiss to your forehead, one filled with love and affection.

“But I gotta admit though. Never did I think you’d take the whole ‘falling for me’ thing so seriously, Y/N.”

“Oh shut up, Gojo!” you quipped. Playfully, you raised an eyebrow and gave him a sly grin. Without missing a beat, you reached up and lightly swatted his arm, a mock scowl on your face which only made him erupt in a fit of giggles.

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that at least. You did fall for him after all. Both on and off the ice.

© MISSUKIYO | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader

[multifandomgirl08]

Stones To Throw At My Creator [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad! Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: He wasn't his father. He would never raise Nico like that.

Warning(s): Angst, Mention of past trauma caused by a parent, Jos Verstappen (just him, in the second half), Max and Jos have a verbal confrontation

A/N: Title from the song Bother by Stone Sour. This song was on one of my playlists and I couldn't help but think of Max while listening to it. I don't normally tackle heavy issues, but I couldn't get the idea of Max wanting to comment about his father's parenting now that he is going to be a parent (again). Totally me rambling but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

This part and the following part of Mini Verstappen are going to be heavy in terms of the subject. Luckily after the next part, it'll be the second to last time we hear about Jos in this series.

Words: 2k

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It was one of the odd weekends that Max had off. Nico had a karting race that weekend, and Max made sure that he had been there given how many he had already missed.

“I only got fourth.” Nico blubbered, with his head slumped against his chest.

“You can’t win them all Nico.” Max insisted.

“But you win almost all of your races.��� The little boy remarked.

While Max enjoyed winning when he was racing, he didn’t want Nico to feel like he had to strive to be amazing behind the wheel at such a young age. Nico was still learning and wasn’t going to be competing until he was older. He shouldn’t be thinking about winning races all the time. He was just a child.

“Yes I do, but there was a time when I didn’t. Winning isn’t everything. You need to focus on being a good driver first before winning anything. Especially when you have a team of people who are working alongside you.” He explained.

Nico knew how important the team was when Max was on the track, it was hundreds of people working to improve the car. It was never just Max at the end of the day. Max didn’t want to push Nico like his father had pushed him. There were times when Max felt he couldn’t handle the pressure his father was putting on him and he didn’t want Nico to ever feel like that.

Over the last year that Nico had been karting, Max had made his peace with it. This was what Nico wanted. So Max would support him even if he didn’t want his son to pursue being in motorsports.

After having spent so many years away from his father’s influence, with only his son and a nanny to take care of him for the first few years. It made Max think about the way that he was raised, how his father had conditioned him to have a very particular mentality when he was on the track and that was great when he was driving for Red Bull, but it wasn’t how he wanted to raise his son. He didn’t want his child to feel like he had to put aside the other things that he cared about for karting.

Nico would one day be his own person, he didn’t have to have the same aspirations that his father had for him growing up. He wanted Nico to enjoy karting while he was still young, he didn’t want to make it about winning for him. When he was older and decided that it was something that he wanted, then maybe… maybe he could be there to encourage Nico to pursue racing. He didn’t want to force it on him.

“But I like winning. It’s fun.” Nico muttered mostly to himself.

Max let out a deep breath.

He wanted to push Nico to do great when he was driving but he never wanted to take it to the extremes of his father.

He helped Nico pack up all of his things before going and meeting Y/N at the car.

“How about,” He offered up as they walked to the car. “We can work on you winning but when it’s not fun anymore I want you to tell me.”

He knew it wasn’t the perfect thing to offer up but it was better than what he had gone through growing up. He never wanted his son to resent him the way he did his father.

“Okay.” Nico nodded up at him. “Does that mean that we can fix the su…spen…sion? I think there is something wrong with it.”

Max couldn’t help but lightly smile.

“After dinner, we can go into the garage and take a look.” Max normally kept Nico out of the garage when he was working on Nico’s kart. He didn’t want his little fingers anywhere near it just in case something went wrong.

Max saw Y/N before she saw him. She was loading her bag into the back seat of the car while holding her growing belly. Baby Verstappen #2 was growing by the day.

When Y/N told him that she was pregnant he had been scared, he throught that he would have more time racing before they had kids together. Max hadn’t been around when Nico’s birth mother was pregnant with him, and he wanted to be able to experience all of it this time around. 

His wife had been at ease with the idea, telling him that there was nothing stopping them from giving Nico a sibling, he was already an amazing dad and adding another one to the family would only further prove that. He had believed her, and now that Y/N was pregnant he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Max moved all of Nico’s karting things into the trunk of the car and closed it once everything was put away. He made his way to the front of the car, reaching for his wife’s waist.

"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He muttered.

"Hello." She replied before he pulled her in and kissed her letting his hand rest on the growing bump.

“Eww.” He heard from Nico.

Max pulled away long enough to laugh at his reaction. Although their son was used to all of the affection that he showed Y/N it was only recently that Nico started to find it gross.

Y/N carefully reached down and kissed Nico on the cheek.

“No, Mama,” Nico said after he squirmed away wiping off her kiss with the sleeve of his jacket. Nico was still as attached to Y/N as ever but there were little things that showed Max how quickly Nico was growing up.

They had just finished dinner, Max was clearing the table insisting that Y/N relax on the couch with Nico. He didn’t want her walking around more than usual.

There was a knock on the front door, they weren't expecting visitors.

“I’ll get it,” Max said abandoning the table for the door. It was a short walk, him then turning the lock of the door, and a small pull to see his father. Max froze where he stood. What was he doing here?

“Who’s at the door, baby.” He heard.

“No one, just someone who’s at the wrong house.” He said looking directly at his father. Max was quick to reach for his keys. He wasn’t going to invite his father inside. He didn’t want him here.

“Be right back.” Max hollered into the living room.

He pushed his father away from the front door before closing it behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He yelled in Dutch.

“Can’t I visit my family?” Jos had asked.

Max said nothing back to that. Jos knew that they had stopped being his family a long time ago.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my son.” Jos was trying to be civil, but Max didn’t want to be civil. He just wanted him gone from his life like he had been for the last 5 years.

“I’m his grandfather.”

“No, you’re the man that made me realize how I don’t want to raise my son.” He knew those words would cut deep, that was the intention. And he already has a grandfather in Christian, why would he need you? He wanted to add but didn’t.

Jos Verstappen wasn’t his father, they may share blood and a name but nothing else. He wanted nothing to do with him.

When Max was younger he never had to courage to stand up to his father, but after Nico came into his life he realized that he now needed to put Nico before him. After he started dating Y/N, got married, and found out that she was pregnant it made him aware that one day he would see his father and would need to stand up to him and tell him how he felt after all those years.

“What about my other grandchild?”

Max closed his eyes at those words. He never wanted him to know that Y/N was pregnant.

“You didn’t think I would find out?” Jos half questioned.

“I knew that you would eventually find out. I just never expected you to show up at my home with my family here.”

“I’m your family.”

“How can you claim to be my family when you tried to keep my son from me?” Jos never wanted him to know that he had a son. It wasn’t in his plans to make him a champion. Even if Nico wasn’t in his life, he knew he would eventually achieve that goal despite Jos always telling him that he would amount to nothing.

Becoming world Champion meant so much more given that he got to share those dreams with Nico.

“I did it for you, for your career.”

His career? That was his reason. Almost getting frostbite on his fingers as a child, being punched in the face after a race, being left at a gas station in the middle of knowhere. Was that for his career? He could think of more incidents that Jos would claim were “for his career”.

Jos Verstappen’s coaching made him a great driver, but it would have made him a shitty parent in addition to being a horrible husband.

He never wanted to put Y/N through what his mother had to deal with.

“You can claim that it was for my career. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you near my family.” Max was tempted to bring up getting a restraining order. If he did, he knew right away that Jos would call him weak, spineless, even pathetic. Jos loved to chuck insults at just about anyone, including the man that he called son.

“Max?” He heard coming from the front door. He turned around to see Y/N standing there looking concerned.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“Nothing, liefde.” He quickly switched back to English. He didn’t want to alarm Y/N that anything was wrong even with the concern that was shown on her face. “Everything is fine.”

He was trying to be reassuring to her. Hoping that she could tell that he had everything handled and wanted her to go back inside so Nico wouldn’t be left alone in the house.

He could see that Y/N was looking past him to see who was standing there. Y/N never pressured him to talk about his father, even if she was curious about what had led them here.

“Please, go back inside.” He pleaded. He didn’t want her around Jos.

He saw her stand up straighter before making her way back into the house.

He turned back to Jos and saw he met his eyes he could see something in him shift.

“You’ve got a good wife, strong, understanding,” Jos said, and as the words left his mouth he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile at having Jos be proud of something he chose that wasn’t racing or punch him for talking about Y/N. “Looks like my son has gotten at least one thing right.”

“I’m not your son.” He said. He finally got his father's approval, and now he was quick to realize that he didn’t want it. “Now, please leave. I won’t ask you again.”

Jos didn’t say anything back. He didn’t walk away either at first, but as they stood there Max rooted his feet into the concrete of the driveway. Jos nodded before walking away.

It was strange watching his father walk away. He finally saw that Max had grown up and was his own person. As his father disappeared into the distance, all he could feel was a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders. Almost like it was easier to breathe.

He let himself take some time before he made his way inside the house. As he walked back to the house, it was the first time he felt like he didn’t have to watch over his shoulder.

He opened the door to see Y/N standing there with Nico by her side. He opened his arms for them, wanting them close. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling the press of Nico into his other side. He was so grateful for the two of you.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x you #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine

[nailisaa]

the 3d has to conform.

  hi everyone! i just came on here to say that today, as i was manifesting, something i didn’t appreciate happened in the 3d. nothing too serious, it’s just that it was unexpected. i want to share with everyone what i do when this happens, and i hope with this i can help somebody out there.

    i’ve been in the manifestation community for three years, so it has gotten easier and easier to deal with bad 3d circumstances because i know it isn’t permanent. however, in the beginning i was still in the toxic type of law of attraction mindset and focused on a lot of tarot readings, high frequencies, etc. basically everything that the basis of law of assumption doesn’t give a shit about. it was beliefs like, “the universe might not give you what you want because they decide” or “you need to be positive always in order to get what you want,” that really made me give away my power, without even realizing. in times where the 3d was showing the opposite of what i wanted, i gave up, and because i thought that the universe didn’t want me to have it, i gradually formed a victim mentality. as if the universe was trying to ruin my life. yikes.

i soon realized that the universe doesn’t give a fuck and isn’t choosing anything for me. it’s supposed to show you your assumptions. so it was either i see it as an advantage, to see what i need to fix about my mindset and improve my life, or wallow in self pity for the rest of my life, and watch it get worse.

obviously i chose to improve my life because wtf. so i stopped letting people on tiktok (it’s the root of all evil, istg the misinformation is insane. do not go to tiktok for any manifesting/shifting advice LMAO) decide my fate and tell me how to live my life. every new thing i learned from the law of assumption made me so happy bc i knew i could live the life i wanted, and i finally felt like i had control over my own life for once. i create my reality. i don’t have to seek validation. only live in the end. that’s all i needed to know, and suddenly, i did not give a shit if the 3d was showing me the opposite of what i want.

let’s talk about how we can cope with these types of situations. i started rambling i’m sorry;

understand that there is no such thing as failure in the LOA, because it’s either you have it or you don’t. the 3d has no choice but to show your assumptions, and only assumptions. that’s why it can’t fail. the 3d can’t fail at showing you your assumptions.

let whatever emotions, bad thoughts, etc. pass. as long as you don’t end up identifying yourself with negative thoughts, an assumption can’t be created. you can cry, scream, throw things, whatever. whatever is happening in the 3d has nothing to do with what your job is, which is to fulfill within imagination. i will never tell you to bottle things up for the sake of manifesting it... just get it out of your system please.

when you’re done, you can enter the state of wish fulfilled again. remember it will not get harder to manifest or anything.

that’s literally it!! people need to stop encouraging hiding your emotions because it does more harm than good. you are human. you are allowed to act like one.

#loa #neville goddard #law of assumption #desired reality #4d #manifestation #shifting #affirm and persist #states manifest #loa success #reality shifting #affirmations #edward art #vaunts & affirmations #master manifestor #nailisaa

[itaipava]

— lewis hamilton as your boyfriend.

he is the type of boyfriend who loves taking you everywhere he goes; if you can (and want to) he will be taking you to all the races. also to his favorite restaurant, his favorite park, favorite cafe, favorite record store, the house of his family and friends. he loves your company and always wants you around.

he remembers almost everything you like and dislike: which additionally makes him amazing at buying gifts, among other things like; surprising you with your favorite coffee or food, making playlists with songs he knows you’ll enjoy, giving your flowers in your favorite color with a little note with a sweet and thoughtful poem or a sweet lyric from your favorite song.

he always remembers your schedule or when you’re free: and calls you at those times because he wants to hear your voice. if not calls, then he likes to leave little voice messages; he loves to talk to you everyday, specially to hear about your day or what you did or gonna do. he also likes to talk about his day or what day he’s going gome (and almost ruining the surprise when talking about the gift he bought you)

he’s a smooth talker: he always knows the right things to say and mean them; he’s very open minded and hope you are too. he likes to grow and learn with (and from) you. he’s very sincere, but he knows how to say things; so if you say or do something he doesn’t like or appreciate, he will talk about it with you in a kind way with the intention of helping you and recognizing your mistake. and he honestly appreciate so much when you do the same to him. like i said, he loves learning from you, so when you talk to him about your boundaries or something he did wrong, he always say “thank you for telling me how you feel”. he really wants to improve as a person, both for himself and for you.

he always seems to know what you’re feeling - he’s good at noticing small changes in your voice, expressions, habits, or mannerisms, so “i’m fine” lies don’t really work on him. but, if you don’t want to talk about it, he will respect you 100% and will make it clear that if you need him for anything or if you want to vent or ask for advice, you can call him at any time because he will always be there for you.

he respects you a lot; your ideas, opinions, tastes and styles. he never judges you or laughs at you for something you like and appreciate, quite the opposite, he encourages you to do the things you like and even tries to take part in your interests.

he thinks a lot about your future together; about what your house would be like when you live together and the things you will do together. about trips he wants to take with you, about holidays and festivals he wants to go to with you, about your family and friends, about children... literally everything; he can’t imagine his future without you, in everything he thinks, you are there by his side and that couldn’t make him more excited.

he is very cuddly and just soothing and comfortable to be around; he’s so sweet and lovely with you that always makes your heart race. he loves to wake you up with hugs and little kisses spreads all over your face; you always open your eyes with a soft smile, he smiles back and says “good morning, love.” he likes to sends you sweet, little texts throughout the day to check on you: always making sure you’re healthy and eating well. 

he loves showing you off to people; he introduces you to friends and family with a big smile on his face, his eyes shining as he says “this is y/n, my partner”. he is so proud to be your boyfriend and you can feel how much he loves you.

he’s just so in love with you: he loves looking at you and doesn’t stop when you look back or get shy. he loves taking candid photos of you and loves being your personal photographer when you need. his wallpaper is one of your pics that he loves so much or one of the two of you that represents how much you two love each other. he loves talking about you or mentioning you in conversations with friends and family, like “oh, y/n likes that!” or “do you know y/n? my part er?”

#formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lh44

[lotus-n-l0ve]

JUJUTSU KAISEN MEN AS YOUR COLLEGE BOYFRIEND

— Sukuna, Satoru, Nanami, Toji, Suguru x Female Reader

➷ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : JJK boys college!boyfriend headcanons.

➷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : college!au, cursing, mention of sex, pet names.

➷ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : Hello people. I'm back from hiatus. First time trying Headcanons so do tell me if I did something wrong or how I can improve. If you like the headcanons then please leave a like, comment and reblong. Follow me for more like this. Enjoy ♡

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Ryomen Sukuna

Boyfriend!Sukuna who is definitely the captain of the basket ball team. Who absolutely destroys his opponents without any mercy.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who loves you to death. He loves every single small things about you. From the way you watch baby animals with a adorable look on your face to how you buzz with excitement whenever a new episode of your favourite anime airs.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who loves to show you off to littraly anyone and everyone. He loves just going to a random person and introducing you to them as his. 'My girlfriend', 'My girl', 'my princess'.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who loves when you brush the tip of your fingers over his tattoos or when you run your hand through his pastel soft hair. While having sex call him captain and he is gone. Let's just say you would not be able walk properly the next day.

Boyfriend!Sukuna whose eyes always look for you. Even in his basketball matches he is waiting for you to turn up. His game is getting better whenever he sees you wearing his jersey that you borrowed one day and never returned.

Can't wait to win the game and then ripping of the jersey from your body and devouring you all night long as a reward.

Gojo Satoru

Boyfriend!Satoru who is the heartthrob of the college. Girls wants to be with him and boys wants to be him. Eyes always following him around wherever he goes but his eyes are always stuck on you.

Boyfriend!Satoru who loves to annoy you to see your cheeks become red with frustration. When he realised that he was in love with you he straight up told you and congrats now you are dating the heartthrob of the college.

Boyfriend!Satoru who is lokey possesive. When others look at you or comment on he won't say anything on their face but don't be surprised if they suddenly disappeare into the thin air.

Boyfriend!Satoru who wants you attention like a attention sterved kitty. Pet him and that fucker will purr like a fucking cat. He is clingy and is not ashamed of it. He is your baby so you better take care of him. If you hurt him (not pay attention to him all the fucking time) he will pout and wait for you to sincerely 'apologise'.

Boyfriend!Satoru loves to dumb fuck you till the only thing you can do is utter nonchalant words. He has a superior kink and you can't convince me otherwise. He calls you names like 'little slut', 'cock warmer ' etc.

Wants you as his reward everytime he passes any exam.

Nanami Kento

Boyfriend!Nanami who is the topper of the college. His attention is always either on a book or on you. No in between. Hates when Satoru calls him Nanamin but when you do butterfly starts flattering in his stomach. You are his queen and he will fucking treat you like one.

Boyfriend!Nanami is such a sweet and supportive boy. College Boyfriend!Nanami who helps you with your academics or if you have any other problem. He will help any and every way he can.

Boyfriend!Nanami has a pet dog (not cat because they remind him of gojo) which he got because she reminded him of you. No gonna lie but he sometimes feel so jealous when you play with the dog instead of him and then feels stupid because he is Jealous of a dog.

Boyfriend!Nanami will gift you different kind of flowers everyday with a hand written note filled with complimenting and encouraging words. He will praise you for every small or big thing you achieve like— "I'm so proud of you." "You did great." Etc.

Boyfriend!Nanami who has a breeding kink. He is a family man so he naturally wants a family with you. He will over stimulate you to the point you pussy will throbe in pain. Loves to cum inside of you and the view of cum dripping down you pussy is all he wants after a stressful day.

Fushiguro Toji

Boyfriend!Toji who is the delinquent of the college. The scar on his lips is the proof. Everyone in the college fears him including the teachers.

Boyfriend!Toji who can't see you sad. First he will comfort and then hunt down reason of you sadness. One time a teacher insulted you without any reason so Toji taught him a 'lesson' and that teacher never even looked your way.

Boyfriend!Toji who loves when you kiss his scares. They don't feel dirty if you love them so much, specially the one on his lips which got while fighting the previous delinquent of the college.

Boyfriend!Toji is the most possesive one out them. His family never loved him or cared for him so he always feels like he doesn't deserve you but is too selfish to let you go. Those days you just hold him in your arm and assure him that you love him and will never leave him.

Boyfriend!Toji fucks you like a sex deprived man. He can and will eat you out like a sterved man. You are his own personal cumbag. He will plam your stomach to feel the bulge when he is balls deep inside you.

You are his personal whore so you better lay back and take everything he is giving you.

Geto Suguru

Boyfriend!Suguru who believes that everyone is bellow him. If Satoru has superior kink then this man has god complex. He thinks everyone is a lowlife. You are the only exception.

Boyfriend!Suguru will take you to expensive restaurants on dates. You know each and every single pincode to his cards. He gifts you jewellery, branded clothes etc. And when you tell him that you can't accept them, they are too expensive, he will reply with somthing like 'This is not expensive at all princess.' or 'This is not even half of what I spent in a day.' He is arrogant.

Boyfriend!Suguru who won't say but loves the cheap dango you buy everyday. Why does he act like that? Obviously because they are cheap. So when you force him eat one he will act like doesn't like them but internally prays that you force him to eat another one.

Boyfriend!Suguru brought a custom made coller for you with his name on it. He makes you wear it whenever you two are fucking. He will not let cum easily. He will tell you to earn it. He loves when you whine and moan for his cock.

Boyfriend!Suguru is wild. There is not a single corner in the house he has left to fuck you. The kitchen island? Check. The back of his car? Check. The terrace where everyone can see you being wrecked by him? Check baby.

© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners. If you want be added on any my taglist then you can do that here. The ask box is open so if want me to write something then you can request there.

#gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk satoru #nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami x y/n #nanami headcanons #nanami imagine #fushiguro x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #geto x reader #my work

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 2: Choose Love Or Sympathy]

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra's wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook's Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother's life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting...

Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, extreme babygirl energy, violence, serious injury, Larys Strong, alcoholism/addiction, references to sexual content (18+), Crab Family lore.

Series title is a lyric from: "7 Minutes in Heaven" by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter title is a lyric from: "XO" by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 5.5k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! 🥰💜

A moment of clarity, something he’s having more of lately: eyes glassy but open, voice husky, words slow. His vast bedchamber in the Red Keep always smells like honey and rose oil and the brackish golden air that blows in off the ocean. Sounds float weightlessly through the open windows like feathers on waves, music and shouts and creaking wagon wheels, gull cries and sails cracking in the wind. Late-morning daylight is an aisle across the stone floor, a river, a channel. Aegon’s bed has been moved away from the windows; when his wounds are uncovered, direct sunlight can ravage him in minutes, fresh blisters, thickening scars.

Aegon winces as you sit behind him and knead warm rose oil into his back and shoulders. His flesh is a grisly mosaic: pink and crimson and white, knots of burgeoning scar tissue, spots that are still raw and weeping. “It itches like hell, does that mean it’s infected?”

“That means it’s healing. Do you want more?” You mean the goblet of pearlescent milk of the poppy on his bedside table. It’s always there, and refilled frequently.

Aegon shakes his head, groggy, slumped, white-blond hair loose and disheveled. “I should probably be sentient on occasion. You haven’t been helping me piss into chamber pots or anything, have you?”

You smile. “No. You’ve got servants for that.” Although they report their findings to you; Maester Arthur of Claw Isle once taught you that organ failure is a common cause of death for burn victims, even if they survive the risks of shock and festering. All appears well enough on the outside, and then they start pissing blood or their skin goes yellow as their innards lose their secretive divine cadence, that vital rhythm, and then the poor soul is gone within days.

“Thank the gods,” Aegon says. “A speck of dignity remains. It’s tragic enough that I now closely resemble an overcooked meat pie.”

You chuckle as you massage rose oil into his wounds, keeping the scars moist and supple so they do not split open when he moves, so his joints are not locked in place. He will need them when he is out of bed again. He will need them if he truly is the king. “I don’t think you look that bad.”

“Because you’re used to sifting through guts and corpses all day. I’m an improvement. I’m only half dead.” And just weeks ago, he was pleading to be all the way dead. He glances back at you, brow knitted into thoughtful furrows; you can see it between the messy locks of hair that shag over his face. “What made you want to study something like this? It’s gruesome. It’s miserable, thankless work.”

“I was never good at anything,” you tell him. “My sisters were, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t dance, couldn’t sing, couldn’t embroider patterns unless they were humiliatingly simple, and even then I loathed it. My father grew so desperate he encouraged me to try archery with my brothers. I accidentally put an arrow in the foot of a squire and that was the end of my bowwoman career.”

Aegon laughs, then groans at the pain it causes him. He turns around so he can look at you, clumsily repositioning himself on the feather mattress, propping himself up on his palms. He squints down at his left hand where his ring should be: gold wings, jade eyes. You will have to remind Aemond to give it back to him. “I was never good at anything either.”

You can’t imagine that to be true, and yet it’s what you’ve always been told, that he was gifted at drinking and whoring and nothing else. You cannot reconcile those stories with the man in front of you. You keep trying, keep failing. You slather your palms in rose oil again the then begin massaging it into his chest. Aegon watches you with muzzy, drugged interest, eyes like cold ocean currents. “Then, five years ago, my brother…” You hesitate. A real name, an imagined one? You decide there is no harm in this small truth. Aegon will not remember the name of a younger son of a Crownlands house; he barely recalls the men of his own Kingsguard, who now spend their days trotting around the castle after Aemond. “My brother Everett was burned very badly, just like you were, although his wounds were mostly to his legs. And we all thought he would die. People advised us to show mercy by giving him enough milk of the poppy to kill him. They said it would be a sin to let him suffer so terribly. Yet our maester believed he could save him. My father and eldest brother had other responsibilities to attend to, and my mother and sisters could not bear the sight of Everett’s injuries. But I watched the way the maester worked on him, and I just…I thought it was the most captivating, beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The way a body can be taken apart or put back together like stones in a wall. Place one here, remove one there, and then like magic you’ve changed the course of someone’s life. Our maester taught me how to clean burns and change bandages, and when Everett was well again, he taught me about broken bones, fevers, childbirth, wolf bites, dry drowning. I read every book on the subject of healing in my father’s library. He kept having to order me more from the Citadel. I think I would have liked to be a maester myself, but…”

Aegon grins. “You have to go marry your mystery nobleman.”

“And women can’t be maesters.”

“They made me king of the Seven Kingdoms but you can’t be a maester? Fucking ridiculous.” He studies you as your fingers—tenderly, carefully—press rose oil into the red scar that creeps up over his right cheek. “Why won’t you tell me who he is?”

He means your betrothed. Aegon keeps asking about him in his moments of lucidity. You quip: “I don’t want you to have him murdered.”

“That would solve your problem.”

“I preserve life, I don’t take it.”

“I’ve noticed,” Aegon says with a soft, tired smile. Very slowly, he reaches up with one hand to pat at his silvery hair. “Can you give me my braid back? It seems to have been washed out again.”

“Of course.”

“Why did you start doing that?”

What is the truth? Something you can’t tell Aegon. No matter how often I touch him, I want more. “It’s a war braid. You’re a warrior. You’ve earned it.”

“So I am good at something after all,” he murmurs. You rebandage Aegon’s wounds and help him lie back down again. You give him a sip of milk of the poppy, which by now is badly needed; Aegon’s face is sweated and pale and agonized. Then you clean the rose oil from your hands and begin weaving a small braid into his hair. He gazes vacantly towards the open window, bright warm light he cannot walk into. “I assume Aemond is…handling things.”

“Yes, he’s…” How will Aegon take this? Is it a relief, or a slight? There was a great ceremony. You did not attend; you were here tending to the Greens’ broken king. It’s where you spend most of your time. “He’s been made Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm.”

Aegon nods, his expression unreadable. “How’s Sunfyre?”

“Still at Rook’s Rest and gaining strength. He was climbing the cliffs as of a few days ago. But I’ll ask Aemond when I see him today.”

Now Aegon smiles again. “Sunfyre is fierce. He is extraordinary.”

“You both are,” you say as you fashion his silver braid; and Aegon stares as if he couldn’t have heard you correctly.

Her steps are so light that at first you aren’t aware she’s entered the room. You see her out of the corner of your eye and immediately stand, moving away from the bed, from Aegon. You feel strange touching him this way—unnecessarily, self-indulgently, greedily—in her presence. She is his wife, after all.

“Your Grace,” you greet Helaena, bowing. She does not look at you. She looks vaguely in Aegon’s direction instead. She is wearing a turquoise blue dress and her long hair pulled back from her face. The servants have dressed her, or Alicent; she cannot do it herself anymore. In her hands she holds a large glass jar of sticks and leaves.

“Hello, Helaena,” Aegon says, more like a sigh than a welcome.

She scurries towards him and sets the jar down on his bedside table with a clunk, right next to the goblet of milk of the poppy and a number of other drinks, things you ply Aegon with to keep him hydrated. Then Helaena speaks, her eyes on the contents of the jar. There is something else in there, you see now: a fat wriggling green creature, a caterpillar inching along the length of an upright stick. "For you."

“It’s very nice,” Aegon tells her, in a tone like a parent losing patience with their child.

“It takes nourishment and then rests,” Helaena says. “It is wrapped in a cocoon and stays there for a long while. But when it emerges, it is not just well again. It is greater than it was before. And it can fly.”

“Oh, I understand now.” Aegon makes no attempt to touch her—not even her hand, not even for a moment—but his words are kinder. “I am the worm. Thank you, Helaena. This comforts me.”

She is satisfied. She turns to leave.

“Your Grace,” you begin, and hold out your hands to her. She does not take them. She does not meet your eyes; she stares instead into the golden luminescence of the open window behind you. You can hear crashing waves and the screeches of swooping gulls. “I wanted to express…I cannot even begin to tell you…I am so, so sorry for your suffering—”

She spins away from you and sweeps out of the bedchamber. You are left looking at the empty place where she stood, heartsick and sorry. What did I do wrong? What should I have said?

Aegon offers you an apologetic smirk, but his eyes are sad. “It’s not personal. She doesn’t really like touching anybody.” This is an irony, and one that must read on your face. A king and queen—by definition, by necessity—do an inordinate amount of touching. He invades, she endures, they knit heirs together out of threads of blood and sweat. “What we have between us, it’s not…romantic. It never was.”

This is not something he should be telling you. It is not a jest but a spilling of deep, sacred truths. “I didn’t ask.”

“No. But you were wondering.”

You were. You return to the bed and sit down beside Aegon, finishing his braid. You choose your words precisely before you speak. “I don’t believe I have a right to know certain things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you’re thinking.”

“Then let me unburden myself so there is no confusion,” Aegon insists, drowsy but fighting sleep. “There was no joy in it for me or Helaena. I tried to make it as quick and painless as I could, but still, her disdain for the task was obvious. It happened just often enough to conceive the children. And we haven’t even tried in months, not since…” He doesn’t need to say it. Everyone knows, Greens and Blacks alike. A son for a son. The murder of Jaehaerys, six years old and utterly powerless, in exchange for Aemond slaying Luke.

Do you think such a thing was just? No, of course not, how could anyone? Very few things that happen in this world are just. They come with passionate defenses but no mercy, no vision for a less violent future. The wheel goes around and around, and everyone takes their turn being crushed. “Aegon, I’m so sorry,” you tell him softly.

He shakes his head. He will not discuss it. Aegon’s remaining children, Jaehaera and Maelor, do not ask about him; on the rare occasion that Alicent brings them to his bedchamber, they do not seem to know who he is. In fairness, Aegon does not seem to know them either; he regards them with a dull sort of bewilderment, like one might peer down at a page written in a foreign language. In the hallways of the Red Keep, the children clutch at Alicent and Otto, and sometimes Aemond will take a few minutes to play with them, stacking wooden blocks or arranging cloth dolls in a miniature castle. But if ‘mother’ and ‘father’ are words the children know, you’ve never heard them spoken aloud. “Can I have some wine, please?”

“Did you finish your goat milk?”

“Resentfully.”

“Then yes. I’ll get it for you.” You pour Aegon a cup of red wine and then tilt it against his lips. He slurps the cup dry before his eyes dip closed. You set the empty cup on the bedside table, feel his forehead for fever—longer than you need to—and then rise to leave him. You are almost to the door when you hear him say: “Thank you for changing my mind.”

You turn back to Aegon, puzzled. “About what?”

“About wanting to be dead.” He grins and waves, a weak miniscule motion of his left hand. “Come back soon, angel.”

“I will,” you promise.

And only then does he surrender to blessedly numb unconsciousness, the only place in the world that doesn’t hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~

You find Aemond in his own rooms. He is sitting in front of the large circular mirror on his vanity. His hair is long and straight and painstakingly neat, his tunic made of black leather. He is wearing the crown of Aegon the Conqueror. Rubies fracture the sunlight and scatter it against the walls; Valyrian steel glints.

Aemond marvels, knowing that you’re here: “It looks better on me than it ever did on him.”

“I need more rose oil.”

In the mirror’s reflection, his lone blue eye darts to you. “You always ask so politely.”

“I didn’t want to waste your valuable time. I can be more loquacious, if you prefer.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He stands, taking off the crown and placing it—gingerly, with both hands—on his vanity. “I’ll see that you have everything you require.”

“I am eternally appreciative.”

Then he does something that he thinks is amusing, a little joke you share. He grabs for your arm and you yank it away just before his fingers can close around your wrist. This makes him smile; it’s one of the only things that does. “Now follow me,” he orders, striding past you and through the doorway.

You hurry after Aemond, dashing through corridors and archways. You know where he is going; this has happened before. As you ascend a staircase, Alicent is leading Jaehaera and Maelor down to the gardens. She has one tiny hand gripped in each of hers; the hem of her emerald green dress drags on the stone steps. She keeps losing weight. You stop to scoop Maelor up and hug him—he giggles, squeezing at your cheeks as you smack kisses onto his face—and then turn your attention to Jaehaera. She has just learned the rules of curtsying and loves to practice. You bow to her, and then she does the same to you, and while her head is bent low you ruffle her silvery hair until it is in hopeless disarray and Jaehaera is laughing hysterically. Then you kneel down so she can sabotage your hair however she sees fit. She pulls strands out of your sensible low bun until you give up and shake it all loose. Alicent—large dark eyes, demurely veiled auburn hair, somber and suffering—gives you a grave, grateful smile. Aemond has waited at the apex of the stairs for you. When you rejoin him he continues onward to the council chamber.

Inside men are taking their seats and already beginning to quarrel: Criston Cole, Otto Hightower, Grand Maester Orwyle, Tyland Lannister, Jasper Wylde, Larys Strong, the knights of the Kingsguard. Sir Rickard Thorne pays no attention to you. Aemond once mentioned off-handedly: ‘Sir Rickard, I believe our healer is a distant relation of yours.’ The knight had glanced at you and produced some noncommittal reply, oh, indeed, sure, is that so. You had met before, you realized when you saw his face, years ago, at some event that brought together the houses of the Crownlands, a wedding or a funeral or a feast. He has a hazy recollection of you, but he cannot pin it down; he spent the evening with boisterous young men like your eldest brother Clement, while you had spent it with other noblewomen. Sir Rickard’s mother or sisters could probably identify you as a Celtigar. To Rickard himself, you can masquerade as some unimportant cousin he is ashamed to have forgotten. You assume your usual place in the council chamber: standing in a corner, trying not to be noticed, only there in case specific questions involving Aegon’s medical treatment arise.

“Is he dying?” Otto asks Aemond. “He must be. He has no interest in whores.”

Aemond raises his eyebrow at you. “Actually, I’ve been informed he is improving.”

Maester Orwyle beams at you. Upon your arrival in King’s Landing, he had confirmed to Aemond and Criston what you already knew: that while the Citadel’s guidance several decades ago was indeed pork lard or cow dung to treat burns, now there is a growing consensus that vinegar, honey, and oil for scar tissue are the best available remedies. You nod back. You are natural allies; the Greens’ king is under your joint care. You both have much to lose if he dies.

Now Otto Hightower addresses you. He is a stern, weathered, shrewd man. He reminds you of your father, though far more humorless. “When will he be able to fight again?”

“Fight?” you echo, stunned. “In battle? Months at least, my lord. Perhaps a year.”

“A year!” Otto bellows, then turns his wrath on Criston and Aemond. “I told you, I told you! I urged him to exercise caution, over and over again I warned him of the danger, and while I was penning letters to every possible ally you were pouring poison into his ears, convincing him that I wasn’t doing enough. Now look at him! Look at this goddamn fucking mess!”

“How fares the dragon?” Tyland Lannister says.

“I received a raven from Rook’s Rest today,” Aemond replies. “Sunfyre is eating well and ambulatory.”

“Useless,” Otto hisses. “Can’t fly. Can’t be moved. A waste of the livestock he’s being fed.”

“We may yet find a purpose for him,” Aemond says.

“Two dragons!” Otto explodes. “Can you count them?! We have two dragons capable of combat, and one of them is ridden by a fifteen-year-old. The Blacks still have Syrax, Caraxes, Vermax, Tyraxes, and Moondancer. And gods help us if they find someone to ride any of the other unclaimed beasts on Dragonstone. Seasmoke, Vermithor, Silverwing, Grey Ghost, the Cannibal…”

“I hope they try to tame the Cannibal,” Criston mutters. “If we’re lucky, he’ll eat them all.”

“My lord,” Larys Strong says to Otto, clutching his cane; he has a habit of lacing his fingers overtop the handle and resting his chin on them. Larys is a watchful, quiet man who speaks rarely yet with great consequence. He is the Master of Whisperers, he is the Lord of Harrenhal, and aside from that he is an enigma to you. “I hate to be the bearer of unfortunate tidings, however I must speak plainly. I have just obtained reports that the Blacks are pursuing precisely the course of action that you fear. Jacaerys Velaryon is offering land and knighthood to any man who can mount a dragon and join their cause. The realm is littered with Targaryen bastards, I’m certain it is only a matter of time until they find at least a few candidates suited to the task.”

Otto slams his fist down on the table. You startle at the noise; Aemond glances over at you. “No king. No Sunfyre. Dreamfyre in the Dragonpit, who Helaena cannot fly into battle. A fucking disaster.”

“We have Vhagar,” Aemond says confidently.

“She is worth two full-grown dragons,” Otto pitches back. “Not four or five.”

“Daemon is the real threat. If I can eliminate him, the war is over.”

“Daeron should be prepared for combat,” Jasper Wylde says. “He is travelling with Lord Ormund Hightower’s army in the Reach, but he can easily be called back to King’s Landing. He could assist Prince Aemond in his pursuit of Daemon and Caraxes.”

“I don’t need his help,” Aemond replies darkly.

“Then perhaps he could safeguard the city once you’ve gone.”

“We cannot sacrifice military strategy on the altar of personal vendettas,” Criston says. “Dragons are best used on the battlefield against soldiers and castles, not on meandering quests to find one lone enemy, that’s a needle in a haystack, it’s a misallocation of precious resources.”

Aemond counters: “But if I can kill Daemon, nothing else matters—”

“It does matter, Aemond!” Criston roars. “I matter, the armies matter, winning the confidence of the houses you hope to rule matters!”

“How is Corlys Velaryon handling all of this?” Otto asks Larys. “The defeat at Rook’s Rest, the death of his wife?”

Larys answers: “He blames Rhaenyra for the losses. He has taken it badly. It is my understanding that he intended to withdraw his support from the Blacks, and was brought back only by Jacaerys giving him the title of Hand of the Queen. I am under the impression that Corlys may be willing to reconsider his allegiance if the circumstances were right—”

There is a knock at the council chamber door, not a knock but a pounding, not a pounding but a frantic drumming like the marching of soldiers’ boots. Sir Criston Cole unlocks and opens the door. Alicent stands there with her face flushed and shiny with tears. Instantly, Criston is at her side asking what is wrong, one hand resting protectively her shoulder, the other on the hilt of the sword he wears everywhere he goes.

“Come quickly,” Alicent begs you, only you. “Please. It’s Aegon.”

You race with her to Aegon’s bedchamber, hearing the screams long before you reach him. This doesn’t make sense; he shouldn’t be in pain this severe, not yet, not for hours. You are aware that there are footsteps thundering behind you, Aemond and Criston rushing to see if the king really is dying this time. In his bed, Aegon thrashes and moans. He needs to stop moving so violently; he will split his scar tissue like burst seams. Already you can see blooms of crimson appearing on his bandages where the wounds beneath have reopened: his neck, his waist, his ribcage. He is out of his mind. He is destroying himself.

He is shouting for Sunfyre, for Aemond, for Criston. He is back at Rook’s Rest being roasted alive in his own armor. Not dying, then; just having a nightmare. You kneel at his bedside and smooth his hair back, his braid threading through your fingers, and whisper to him that it’s alright, that he’s safe, that he needs to wake up now. Alicent is weeping, both hands covering her mouth. Aemond and Criston are watching you, mesmerized, transfixed.

Aegon’s oceanic eyes fly open, wide and panicked. “Where am I?”

And you smile down at him, your palm cradling his unburned left cheek. “The end of the world.”

He blinks. He remembers. His lips stretch into a grin. “There you are,” he tells you, voice gravelly and low. “I dreamed everyone was gone and you were too.”

“I’m here.”

“You aren’t in a hurry to abandon me for your burly betrothed?”

Cregan Stark must think I’m dead. “No, Aegon.”

“You can’t leave without telling me.”

Everett, Clement, my father, my mother, Piper, Petra, Penelope, they must all think I was burned to ash on the battlefield or murdered and tossed into the sea. “I know. I won’t.”

“You can’t leave,” he says again, a half-awake whimper as he sinks back into unconsciousness. You give him more milk of the poppy, enough to make his sleep deep and black and dreamless.

You reclean and rebandage Aegon’s wounds. It takes hours. Aemond fetches Maester Orwyle to assist you. Criston comforts Alicent, wanting to do and say far more than he can. When it is done, only Alicent remains in the bedchamber with you. She visits Aegon frequently, but she does not know how to speak to him; she always stands there clasping her own hands together, praying and stalling, desperate to show him love and yet incapable of it.

“Thank you for what you’ve done for him,” Alicent says, tears glistening in her umber eyes. “Not just the hours, not just the medicine. For everything that you’ve done.” And she embraces you, and when she does you hold her like she wishes her own daughter could.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the night you see it repeating like a chorus of a song in the shadows that crawl across the ceiling: one year ago, stray snowflakes in your hair, stars in a black sky and air like metal.

The Celtigar fortune is older than the Targaryens’ conquering of Westeros, older than the Doom of Valyria. Where did the money come from? Friends of the Celtigars would say distinctively cunning maritime trade; their enemies would say piracy. Perhaps the two are not always so different. Is there any mechanism of accumulating great wealth that does not involve stealing in one form or another, of wringing out some other soul like a wet cloth until every drop of them disappears down your throat? Your ancestors did not tame dragons, but they had a different sort of gift: for every coin, they could find a way to make two or six or ten. Repeat that process for centuries and there are vaults filled to the ceiling with gold coins like pieces of the midday sun.

When Daenys the Dreamer had a vision of the Doom over a decade before it left Valyria a smoldering, fragmented wasteland haunted by demons and plague, only three Valyrian houses heeded the warning. Her own family, the Targaryens, relocated to Dragonstone. The Velaryons, having already long occupied Driftmark, resolved to stay there. And the Celtigars—merchants to some, pirates to others—crossed the Narrow Sea to settled on Claw Isle.

Crispian Celtigar served as Master of Coin to Aegon the Conqueror. Alton Celtigar was his Hand of the King. Edwell Celtigar was chosen to be Hand of the King to Maegor I, and later Master of Coin to Jaehaerys I during his minority. The Celtigars have never been far from the Iron Throne…though perhaps none were ever as close as you are now.

One year ago, your father embarked upon a trade mission to White Harbor. Never a man to squander an opportunity for new business, he added stops in Oldcastle, Cerwyn, and Winterfell, and brought along his four maiden daughters to stoke the desires of Northerner lords. Piper fancied a son of Lord Manderly, Petra caught the attention of a Cerwyn boy. But no offer was advantageous enough for Bartimos Celtigar’s liking; no deal could be struck.

In Winterfell, Lord Cregan Stark was already married. His wife, a childhood friend before she was a bedmate, trudged around the castle heavily pregnant and dragging layer upon layer of furs to guard her against the cold, often biting even in summer. Lord Cregan took little notice of your giggling, gossiping sisters, and even less of you…until his sparring partner broke his arm in the castle courtyard. As the other women fled with nauseated faces back to their needlework, you asked Winterfell’s maester if you could watch how he set the fracture and managed the man’s pain. The maester was delighted—Northerners, as a rule, lack intellectual curiosity—and even allowed you to help bandage the wound once the split bone had been popped back into place. And it was only then, as you knelt there with your forehead creased with determination and blood coating your hands to the knuckles, that Lord Cregan Stark began to see you.

You have a fear of marriage, not a general aversion but a specific and powerful dread. When you were fourteen, you asked your mother if she enjoyed lying with her husband, and you had known as soon as she spoke with a careful sort of reticence—‘I enjoy feeling close to him, I suppose’—that the answer was no. When you were sixteen and your cousin Theodora married into House Bar Emmon, you went with the other noblewomen to inspect her bedsheets the next morning, and were horrified by how they chuckled at the large rust-like stain and recalled their own initiations into sex, this unavoidable rite of passage, this ultimate surrender. At breakfast, the men toasted wine and hooted and sang, while Theodora stared down with glazed eyes at her untouched bacon and duck eggs and said when Piper asked how the night went: ‘He wanted me three times. Is there anything I can do to make him stop?’ And you had thought: Aren’t unions like this supposed to be holy? What the hell do the gods have to do with it? Are they in the sweat, in the bleak resignation, in the linen of the sheets? Do they fill the man with blind lust like an animal’s, do they help hold the woman down?

Your eyes close as you lie in bed in the Red Keep, your room adjoining Aegon’s, and suddenly you are back in Winterfell again. You are making notes as the maester shows you the herbs growing in the Glass Gardens when Cregan finds you. He is tall and broad, made more so by the furs that engulf him like mist drapes the stony cliffs of Claw Isle. His voice is booming, thunderous, cataclysmically formidable. He is used to being listened to. He has never been expected to sit quietly as other men charted out his life like the route of a trade ship: here you will go, here you will be emptied of every scrap of value. He says he will give you a tour of the Library Tower. It is not an invitation; an invitation can be declined.

You walk together through the Godswood—dark water, blackberry bushes, crows squawking, gods you do not believe in—and Cregan tells you fond memories of his childhood. He likes hunting and archery. He spars in the courtyard for hours each day. He never stays still, he never goes quiet. He wants to know where you learned to marvel at the ghastly art of piecing broken bodies back together again. He wants to know why you are so different from other women. And he inquires with great fascination about the legendary treasures of your house, not just gold but rubies, jeweled cups, Myrish carpets and Volantene glass, a horn said to summon krakens from the sea, an axe made of Valyrian steel.

Winterfell’s library is sparse and dusty, cobwebs in shadowy alcoves. Cregan Stark thinks you will not notice. As he slips books about anatomy and herbology off the shelves to show you, you cannot help studying his hands, large and calloused and always stained with black patches of ink or soil or soot. They make yours look tiny and defenseless, skin of silk and bones like glass. You picture him claiming you, owning you, climbing into the marital bed knowing that you cannot refuse anything he asks for. You envision him forcing your thighs apart with those huge filthy hands, leaving smudges like ash. You imagine him tearing his way into a part of you that feels so small, so vulnerable; you imagine the suffocating burden of his interminable weight.

A moment of clarity, in the library beathing dust and Cregan’s scent, a woodsmoke musk, a wolflike wildness: I don’t know this man. I don’t trust this man. I’m glad he’s not free to marry me.

This was before the war began, before Cregan’s wife Arra Norrey died birthing their son Rickon, before Jace Velaryon arrived in Winterfell to forge the Pact of Ice and Fire. And when Cregan agreed to support Rhaenyra’s claim to the Iron Throne, and Jace pledged to marry his firstborn daughter to Rickon, the Warden of the North decided there was one last thing he wanted inked into the covenant. He wanted an ally in the South, bottomless wealth, his future children to have Valyrian ancestry. He wanted a woman with vigilant, unflinching eyes and blood on her hands.

He wanted you.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x you #hotd fanfic

[soulkeeper801]

Almost - Sana

Sana x f!reader

1.3k words

When you first met her, you knew you wouldn’t meet anyone else like her.

It wasn’t only the way she treated everyone with a big smile and a spark in her eyes, it was also the calm and tranquility she would transmit to others.

Even in the worst, most stressful situations, she would try to see the perks. Always ready to give a hand, to add an idea, to look for a solution together, even if it wasn’t part of her responsibilities.

“Sana,” you called one day, knowing perfectly well she would turn her head with the brightest smile on her face. “Can you help me with something real quick?”

The office was hustling, a lot of work was assigned to your team and everyone was stressed with last minute reports.

Her big doe eyes looked at you, nodding before her chair rolled back and went to your side to see what was bothering you. 

“I can’t seem to get this file to open,” you lied, having an excuse to have her by your side. “I’ve tried everything but nothing works”.

Sana nodded, “it’s really simple,” she began, her eyes becoming two crescent moons and her lips moving along the words she let out explaining to you the most basic task of your job. Gentle, caring, always there in case you needed her.

*

Her heart was as big as her dreams and you, more than anyone, knew them very well. 

“And when that happens, I’m going to open my own bakery!” she grinned, lost in her own daydreaming, holding a fist up as if she was encouraging herself to go after what made her the happiest.

“It will be the best bakery in the country,” you added, making her head turn to you and ignore the blank of stars that were adorning the sky that night. “It’s going to be made by you and everything you do is the best!” you continued, mimicking the fist she had in the air, letting her know you trusted she could do anything.

A familiar brightness returned to her eyes as she soaked in your encouraging words.

You both laid on your car’s hood, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves in the cool breeze and the laughter and muffled music that came from the party you were in minutes ago.

“You’re the best,” she whispered, her head making its way to your shoulder. You tried to ignore the electricity going through your body having her this close for the first time. 

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the start of whatever the universe was gifting you through her, but you laid your head against her and a sense of contentment invaded you.

Grateful for having someone like her in your life.

*

Time gets you where you need to be, resilience makes your dream come true.

And even if you didn’t share the same job as you did before, you were amazed by how she would never give up and were proud of everything she was achieving by her own means.

“Sana…” you breathed out, astonished by the way the place looked on the inside. From outside it was beautiful, but walking into it made you feel as if you were in a palace. “this is…”

“Do you like it?” a bright eyed Sana asked, hopeful, eager to know what you thought about how her efforts turned out, willing to take any note you gave her as a chance to improve. 

“It’s perfect,” you simply replied, matching the feeling in the air that surrounded you, a smile beginning to grow on your face. “I’m so proud of you”.

Sana threw her arms around you, holding you close in a grateful hug. Your arms found their way over her shoulders as your nose pressed against her hair. 

“I’m sorry,” she said as she pulled apart, noticing how her apron had dusted flour on your clothes, “I was just finishing something when you called and I couldn’t help but be here for the first time of you walking into this place,” as she continued, you noticed how tears formed in her eyes.

You gripped her hand, trying to show her support without interrupting her words.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, this time wiping her tears. “It’s a little overwhelming,” she confessed holding your other hand, making you both stand in front of each other, “you were the first person I ever talked to about my dream of a bakery,” she chuckled, overwhelmed by her own emotions, “and I’m glad you like it”.

You nodded and instinctively brought her to a tight hug. 

“So…” Sana trailed off as you pulled away for a second time, “there’s a position for marketing available in the team,” she let you know, “and I would love that you come join us,” she proposed, “I know the pay won’t be as high as the office but we’ll get there eventually and with you here we’ll get there even faster,” she explained as her voice became softer, “besides, these months away from the office felt really weird for me. Not having you around felt wrong somehow and I really missed you”.

Your heart skipped a beat at those last words. She wanted you with her as much as you wanted to be there. 

“I’m in, Sana,” you replied, getting a big smile from her, “always”.

*

Sana was everything you ever dared to dream about in a girl.

Her presence was soothing for whoever felt was having a bad day. Her eyes held a certain depth reflecting a universe of emotions and kindness.

Her laughter was infectious and uplifting, echoing in your head whenever you were down.

Sana became your muse, the inspiration for your life, the one who made you keep going and the one who gave you the strength to be standing there on the most important day of a person’s life.

She looked beautiful. Ethereal, you would dare to say.

Even after knowing her for several years, you still couldn’t believe how beautiful someone could be.

Her hair was pulled into a bun, strands framing her face like strokes of a masterpiece.

Her body was wrapped in an elegant white gown that flowed with every step, she moved with a captivating blend of confidence and serenity. 

By the arm of her dad, Sana took the steps down the aisle, her eyes filled with love and hope of a bright future next to the one she loved the most.

Your heart churned at her smile. Bright and captivating as always, the same smile that made you fall for her the first time you ever saw her.

She walked towards the place you were standing in and when her dad let her go, you heard a faint whisper asking to take care of her daughter well.

When she got to the altar, her eyes portrayed a knowing tingle that made a shy smile appear on your face. She’s always had the power to calm you down even in the worst scenarios.

“We are gathered here today to witness a sacred union…” the words flowed through the mic and filled the entire place with the solemnity that moments like this bring.

Sana smiled brightly, her eyes now locked on yours, grateful for having this moment to share with you.

“...a union that reminds us one more time that love will always win, no matter what”.

The love of your life nodded and turned to the right, where her bride-to-be stood, looking at her with loving eyes.

“We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between Minatozaki Sana,” you keep going into the mic, even if your heart was breaking into a million pieces, knowing perfectly well it should have been you standing next to her, being madly in love with the girl who was getting married to someone else. Someone who could never love her as much as you did.

“and Park Jihyo…”

In your next life, you would never miss the chance to be the one.

#twice x f!reader #twice x reader #twice imagine #sana x f!reader #twice fluff #sana imagine #twice angst #sana angst #twice sana x f!reader #soulkeeper801

[buccini555]

— 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ They ended up finding out you have an eating disorder when you ended up in the hospital

♡H e a d c a n o n s ! ୨୧ x r e a d e r !

♡ Request from a very special person! (It's a sensitive subject, so please be careful, okay?)

♡ 𝑭𝒕. Sanzu Haruchiyo, Inui Seishu, Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho Hitto, Yuzuha Shiba and Akane Inui ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ⑅₎ ⊹

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It would be painful and worrying for Haruchiyo to see you in a hospital, once he found out the reason for such hospitalization, he would spend hours studying your disorder to find out how to help you, besides, he wouldn't force you to eat or anything like that, but he would encourage you to eat properly

When Sanzu went to visit you at the hospital, he was quite quiet, but as soon as he saw you, he gave a small smile, relieved that you were still by his side.

"I promise I'll take better care of you."

He said holding your hand, looking at you in the kindest way possible.

"You are important to me, I will be by your side no matter what happens, soon everything will be fine and you will come home!"

He took a small stuffed bunny out of the pocket of the coat he was wearing and placed it in your hand, making you smile.

"I love seeing that pretty happy face!" Sanzu spoke as soon as he noticed that you were starting to feel better with his presence.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐮⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

He would be extremely scared and worried at the same time, Inui already suspected your disorder, for that reason, he always encouraged you to eat properly and also tried to improve the way you saw yourself

As soon as he learned that you were hospitalized, he had a feeling that the reason for such hospitalization was caused by your restricted eating.

"We'll get through this together, I promise I'll take better care of you, it's going to be okay, got it, my sweetie?"

He said, smiling with teary eyes, Seishu was afraid of losing you.

"... And I also hope that you believe me when I say that you are perfect, none of the compliments that exist in this world would describe how perfect you are to me."

Placing a small kiss on your cheek, he held you close and was stroking your hair in silence, trying to make you as comfortable as possible and letting you know that you weren't alone in that moment and no matter how hard it was, Inui would be by your side until that everything gets better.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Rindou didn't quite understand what you were going through, so he often ended up arguing with you about your diet, but as soon as he found out about your disorder, everything changed in his view

He quickly went to the hospital where you were hospitalized, as soon as he saw you, the blonde smiled relieved that you were okay.

"I-I'm so sorry..."

Rindou said with his voice trembling, you asked him the reason for such an apology, and in the midst of trying to hide the tears he explained.

"... I had no idea how you felt. I'll take better care of you! I'll do my best to make you feel better."

You had never seen Rindou open up like that, so you could see how worried he was, he spent a few minutes in total silence just watching you and stroking your face, Rindou would certainly take care of you with all the love and patience in the world.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Ran had already noticed your disorder, even without having spoken directly about it, he always asked you to eat well

As soon as he got the news that you were in the hospital, he didn't hesitate and immediately went to visit you, he already knew the reason, so he tried to be as careful as possible at that moment.

"Don't ever scare me like that again my sunshine, I will always be here to take care of you and show you how amazing you are." Ran said a few words, before arriving at the hospital, he bought you flowers and handed them to you to at least bring some joy to that empty hospital room and also show some affection on his part, he didn't know how to act, but he was sure who would do their best to help you overcome your disorder.

Ran remained beside you in the room in silence, just giving you light caresses and comforting you as best he could.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Izana always paid a lot of attention to you, he often noticed that your food was very limited, for that reason, he always convinced you to eat

When he found out you were in the hospital for your eating disorder, Izana realized the seriousness of the matter and immediately went to visit.

"... My princess/prince, I'm so worried about you! It's going to be okay, I'm going to make everything okay."

He hugged you, later gently holding your face and giving you a small kiss, Izana committed to helping you overcome your disorder, even though he wasn't sure how it would be to deal with such a fact, he would remain by your side, ensuring that you to feed yourself, but always being patient and respecting your limits.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Kakucho had no idea what you were going through, he only realized how serious it was when you went to the hospital

As soon as he received the news, Kakucho dropped absolutely everything he was doing and went to visit you, when he learned the reason for such a trip to the hospital, he felt guilty for having let things get to this.

"... My love? Well I'm so sorry this happened, I'll take better care of you, I'll help you eat better and I'll also be here for anything you need."

Kakucho sat next to you, giving you a small kiss on the cheek and together handing you a small stuffed kitten he had bought, he didn't know much about eating disorders, but he was totally willing to learn about it to help you deal with it.

"I'm here... I'll always be here!"

He said, hugging you, he promised himself that that situation would never happen, as he would make you eat properly and healthily with all the love and patience possible.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐘𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐡𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Yuzuha argued with you many times over your limited diet, her concern increased even more when she found out that you were in the hospital

She went to visit you, already knowing the reason for your stay to the hospital, Yuzuha was extremely anxious to see you, as soon as she saw you, she gave you a strong hug and thanked you for being well.

"I'll take better care of you, you'll get better soon, got it, my life?"

She said, still thinking of ways to help you with your disorder, Yuzuha didn't want to be strict or make you feel uncomfortable, so she thought of ways to help you in the kindest and most loving way possible, where you felt safe.

She was silent for a while, just stroking your face and keeping her company.

"... You're perfect for me." Said Yuzuha.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐢⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Akane already suspected about her disorder, for that reason, she was always careful with your food

When she found out that you were in the hospital, Akane immediately went to visit you, taking you some flowers and a get well card, she was sad to see you that way, for that reason, she committed herself to helping you overcome your disorder.

"We're going to stick together and we're going to take care of each other, my sweetheart!"

Akane always tried to stay calm to calm you down, she hugged you, making you feel better.

Akane spent some time researching and studying how she could best help you, she would stay by your side, caring and looking out for your well-being.

#sanzu tokyo revengers #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu headcanons #sanzu x reader #seishu inui #inuiheadcanons #inui x reader #rindou haitani #rindou headcanons #rindou x reader #ran haitani #ran headcanons #ran x reader #izana headcanons #izana kurokawa #izana x reader #kakucho tokyo revengers #kakuchohitto #kakucho x reader #yuzuha shiba x reader #yuzuhaheadcanons #akanetokyorevengers #akaneheadcanons #akane inui #tokyo revengers #tokyorev headcanons #tokyorev x reader #tokyorevengers #tokyorevengersheadcanons #tokyo rev

[marikuchanxo]

Praise Me More

Characters: Husband!Nanami Kento x F!Reader

Word Count: 900 words

CW: extreme fluff, pet names.

Author's note: To all my people who love praises, have some from none other than Nanami Kento 💙💙

Divider: @plutism

Heaves and sighs fill up the bedroom; indicating the conclusion of your love making session with your husband Nanami Kento. He gives you a delicate forehead kiss as he rests beside you on his back. You bring your arm around his torso and nestle your head on his chest. You’ve always loved listening to his heartbeat, a state of ecstasy engulfs your soul.

“Are you alright?” Nanami asks, looking at you tenderly.

“Never been better.” You reply, nuzzling into his neck.

Nanami pats your back gently while admiring your delicate features. He brings himself to the side to face you, when all of a sudden he utters those words upon your ears.

“You’ve been such a good girl to me. I am the luckiest to have you by my side.” 

Your face flushes with a pink-hued blush. You instinctively intertwine your hand with Kento’s, as you bring yourself to kiss his cheek, a sign of gratitude. 

Later on, you get fuzzy inside whenever you remember Kento’s praise to you. Excitement goes through you which gets you more motivated throughout your days. 

The next day, after having lunch with Kento, you both get to the living room to relax a bit on the couch. Kento brings his book to continue reading it. His hand finds your thigh to caress it gently; a loving gesture connecting both your hearts. You get a bit anxious though. You aren’t used to asking something from Kento as he’s always attentive to your needs. Although you are shy about it, you muster up the courage anyway. You clutch his hand to grab his attention.

“Kento,” he turns to you, “Yes, love?”

“I want to ask you a favour.” “I am all ears.” He replies with a soft smile.

“Remember the other day when you praised me?” He nods, all his focus on you. “I actually need more of it; in daily life though, not just when we are intimate together.”

“Of course. May I ask if there is any specific reason?”

You fiddle with his hand, avoiding eye contact with him. You are really shy to tell him your reasons. After all, you are an adult, why would you still need such a thing at such an age?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Either way, I am proud of you for voicing what you want from me.”

Kento raises your chin to look at him. Earning some bravery from his sweet-honeyed eyes, you decide to confess.

“It’s just….praising makes me more motivated to live life, and makes me feel appreciated. It turns down my thoughts of not being good enough. That’s all I have.”

You end your words with a warm smile to Kento. He brings you on his lap to embrace you with his loving arms. 

“Thank you for trusting me with your thoughts. I can assure you no day will pass by without the praise you need.”

You snuggle more into his warm hug, “I am really lucky to have you in my life, Kento. Thank you.” “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He replies, tenderly kissing your temple. 

And as always, when Kento promises, he keeps it.

💙In the morning, you find a text from Kento on your phone.

Kento💙: Thank you for the bento. Gojo won’t stop nagging about telling you to make one for him too. But, I don’t share. Unfortunately. Please keep the notes, too.”

You giggle as you read his text. You reply to him gladly. You: I am glad you liked it. Don’t worry, it is made specially for you. I am waiting for you. Stay safe 💖.

💙After having dinner, he goes to wash the dishes. Whenever he can, Kento insists on helping you with the house work, even if he had a long day at work.

“Let me wash the dishes. I appreciate making my favourite meal. I was in dire need of it.” And he kisses both of your cheeks.

💙Whenever Kento sees you studying Japanese, he likes to encourage you.

“I see your writing has improved. I am here for you whenever you need me. Do you want to have some tea?” “Thank you, Kento. And yes, please.”

He kisses your forehead before heading to the kitchen. You are studying Japanese as you want to improve your communication with Kento. Sometimes you practise speaking with him. Pride in his eyes are shown when you buy groceries together and you can understand what’s written around you in the convenience store.

💙Sometimes Kento works from home. He takes his breaks seriously so he can spend some time with you. He finds you doing the laundry in the laundry room. He smiles to himself, seeing his hard working wife doing her best. As you hear your husband’s footsteps, you find him standing by the door.

“Hello there, handsome.” “Hello, my love. Would you like to join me for the lunch break?” “That would be my pleasure.”

As you walk to him, Kento stops you to admire your face. He holds your hands and kisses both your palms tenderly, taking his time. He lays his eyes on you, admiring your presence.

“This house wouldn’t be a home without you. I appreciate what you do.”

You look at Kento lovingly, caressing his cheek.

“Aw, babe. It is the least I can do for you.” You assure him as he leans more into your soft palm.

#jjk #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kento #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento angst #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami #kento nanami fluff #kento nanami fic #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #marikuchan writes

[valorascult]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 / 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 (𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝)

**disclaimer**

I am not against self improvement. Wanting to be the best version of yourself is your birthright. There are a lot of helpful books, ‘gurus’, articles, practices, etc; that are beneficial & have valuable information to share.

That being said, lets move forward.

Many start their ‘self improvement journey’ when they are at their lowest because that’s when you are most aware that something is ‘wrong’ - making you more vulnerable / susceptible to deception & addiction.

It usually starts by reading a book, watching a yt video, etc;. You watch / read one and then continue to consume more, because ‘maybe the next one will finally get me to where i need to be’ - not understanding that this is just another form of entertainment and procrastination.

There is satisfaction after immediately reading a self help book. You have a quick rush of ‘I’ve accomplished something’ (dopamine) - giving you the illusion of progress until you get stuck inside a cycle and realize, nothing has changed.

Sitting behind a screen is not the self improvement you think it is. Is there good knowledge shared? Yes, of course, but the real self improvement starts by actually DOING. Living life will give you more answers than binging content.

Action Faking - ‘the practice of confusing being 'busy' with making actual progress towards an intended goal and often involves a lot of over-analysing and planning, but very little meaningful action.’

Listening to someone talk about their own lives & share their own improvement stories is not going to help YOU. Gurus try to fit everyone into a mold when self improvement is not a ‘one size fits all’ & when something doesn’t work for someone after its worked for others, they usually see themselves as a ‘failure’ so they move onto the next thing that doesn’t fit them & this becomes a pattern, soon they start to build levels of guilt and shame.

Before consuming anything, you should know the specific problem you want to solve, if not, you are coming into something without a strong foundation, soon, you will start to believe there are 500 other things wrong. Don’t get sucked into a black hole.

Also, understand that many other these therapists, psychologists, content creators, etc; all thrive off of people who are at their lowest. It’s important to know when someone really wants to help vs when someone keeps wanting you to come back. The industry is worth billions.

Many have been accustomed to pacifying the silence. Always picking up the phone, turning the tv on, listening to music when there is downtime, instead of tapping into our bodies - their thoughts and feeling have now become distorted & influenced by ‘the noise’.

Fake positivity instead of facing reality is an issue within itself. These ‘positive’ messages / posts about encouragement and ‘never giving up’ convinces you that it’s ‘wrong’ to changes paths / passions in life & you then see yourself as a failure instead of a soul, growing.

With all of that being said, remove yourself from artificial motivation & start doing. I have nothing against self improvement, but I do have an issue with the addictive side of it that seems to only profit a select few.

xoxo,

valora

#affirm #affirmations #void state #law of abundance #law of assumption #positive affirmations #self concept #desired reality #self concept affirmations #law of detachment #self help #self improvement #loa affirmations #affirm and persist #affirmyourreality #affirmdaily #affirmyourlife #loassumption #loa success #law of manifestation #law of attraction #law of affirmation #affirmyourself #10k affirmations #self development #higher self #self love #personal development #master manifestor #manifest

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐. cappuccino⠀𓏔⠀lee know⠀❫

☆ customer!lee know x afab!reader ( i wanna be yours oneshots )⠀★⠀8.1k words

( i am extremely sorry for the delay of this one shot ♡ )

synopsys: after a bad run you are forced to look for a second job, and you end up covering the first shift at the campus café. every morning you find the same guy waiting for you to open, leaning on the wall, looking flawless, and it gets on your nerves. until one day you see him leaving the dance academy where you teach, getting on the same bus as you. warnings: in this one she's the barista, guys. a part from that, we have mentions of reader not having enough money, lee know with his misterious aura but being a literal sunshine, also he's insecure :(( unusual hopeless romantic minho too, he's a softie (and whipped) reader's insecure too 😔 mentions of overworking and skipping meals. minho saves the day!! let me know if i missed something.

If life as a college student was hard, life as a broke college student in a country completely different from your own was pure hell. You had never let it get to you when you said your dream was to make it as a choreographer in Seoul and everyone laughed in your face, so you certainly weren't going to let anything stand in your way now that you had gotten a chance at Seoul's famous arts university, JYPU. The plane ride had been a challenge, because you kept wondering if you were really doing the right thing, but when you landed and saw you had messages of encouragement from your sister and the few friends you had left in your hometown, their words had filled you with determination.

A couple of years had passed since that moment, and perhaps the circumstances were still not the best, but you were still determined to achieve everything you set your mind to. The language barrier had not been a big problem, because you had learned some Korean while you were in high school, but it had only helped you to find that tiny room you were living in and get hired at the dance studio a couple of blocks away from the faculty. You were earning enough to pay for food, rent, and the materials you needed for class. But when understanding your classmates became a little more complicated, when the language used in the lectures became more technical, you had to pay a personal teacher to help you improve your Korean. And since you didn't have enough money, you were forced to fit a second job into your busy schedule, getting a little bit of extra money to live slightly more comfortably.

A friend of a friend from the Music Production department had recommended you to the owner of the most famous café on campus, and after hearing your story, he had hired you right away. This Chris guy had been very nice, and had taken an interest in your schedule to find the shifts that suited you best, even waiting for you after one of your classes to have lunch with you and talk about everything in peace and quiet. You had never met a boss so concerned about his employees, and he made it much easier to have to get up before dawn to be the one to open the café, because he always left you some candy hidden in your apron pockets or a note encouraging you to start the day with a smile.

However, the first time you had covered the morning shift, the 5.30 am shift, there was a guy waiting at the door. You had arrived, exhausted as you were every day, the laptop and your college books weighing like heavy bricks in the backpack on your shoulders, along with the sports clothes you wore for the afternoon classes. Chris had told you to be there at the normal time and he would show up to explain some of the details and give you the keys. After all, it was your first day. But instead there was a tall, slim guy leaning against the metal grille, his slightly long bangs covering his eyes, though that didn't stop him from scrolling lazily on his phone, headphones hanging around his neck, and looking flawlessly put together. Certainly not how someone should look on any given day at 5:30 in the morning.

You flashed a shy smile as you reached his level and he lifted his head to find out who you were, his sharp cat-like eyes sparkling from the reflection of the light on his phone screen, and you grabbed your own in a hurry to send a message to the cafe owner.

You 5.32am Hi, Chris I already arrived, where are you?

Chris 5.32am Hi, sorry Still in the subway Like... 2 minutes away

You 5.33am Yeah, no worries It's just There's this guy...

Chris 5.34am OMG wait Dark aura, looks like a cat and gave you a dirty look when you showed up?

You 5.35am Yeah, quite accurate

Chris 5.35am Oh, that's Minho Don't mind him, he's inoffensive Most of the time He's there for his morning coffee

You 5.36am Okay, then See you!!

Chris 5.36am 👍🏼

And then he showed up, out of breath, in a hurry, around the street corner, phone still in his hand, unblocked. You smiled unconsciously, trying to ignore Minho's gaze weighing on you while Chris approached, flashing his dimples as he stopped in front of you to catch his breath, breathing some kind of greeting that you responded to with a nod. He pulled out a dinosaur-shaped keychain, a very adorable doodle version, and bent down to unlock the metal grille, pull it up ーgiving a little jump to get it all the way upー and unlatch the lock on the door. Minho hadn't bothered to greet him, you guessed it was a common thing between them, and he didn't look up from his phone screen either, a bored gesture plastered on his face. You followed Chris as he entered the café, leaving your backpack on the counter, and standing awkardly in the middle as he went to switch on the electrical panel.

"Get his coffee ready while I finish up in here," he instructed you, stepping into what you thought was the kitchen, "I'll be right out to help you."

You nodded, grabbing the apron from the rack that already had your name on it, and stood behind the counter, Minho having rested his forearms on the surface, again with the phone in his hands. If he was reading some article or playing some online game it must have been interesting, because except for the few furtive glances he had given you, his eyes had been glued to the screen the whole time. Clearing your throat, making just enough noise to get his attention, you flashed your best customer service smile, "What'll you have?"

"Cappuccino" he mumbled, sitting up and stretching absently, "grande, to go".

You made a small affirmative noise, turning on the coffee machine, and picked up the cup in the size he had asked for, with its respective lid.

"Chris, where's the milk?" you asked, walking into the kitchen, stifling a laugh when you caught him wrestling with the flour, staining his dark blue t-shirt white.

"'Storage room'" he muttered, his ears taking on a reddish hue, "If there isn't any under the counter, Jisung must have forgotten to restock it last night."

You hurried into the kitchen supply room, after grabbing a scoop of coffee powder and put it in the machine to make some espresso, and came out with two packs of milk, setting them down on the floor to place them as soon as Minho left, but grabbing one of the bottles to make the steamed milk and creamer.

It wasn't your first time working as a barista, and not in the hostelry industry either, so really the only thing you had to get used to was the café distribution. Luckily, Chris seemed like a pretty neat guy, so you didn't think it was going to be much of a problem. You set about pouring the milk into the necessary containers to heat it to your liking and get the effect you were looking for, as the coffee dripped into the cup you were using to measure the amount, the chestnut-colored liquid falling, first in drops and then in a small stream of caffeine, flooding the white porcelain.

You mixed it on the counter, in front of Minho, so he could see how you did it, although you hadn't seen him look up from his phone at any moment. Actually, he had been watching you. He always did 一observing his surroundings, that is一, but with you his eyes flashed with curiosity. Chris was known for rescuing stray souls in need of a job, a quality through which he had met most of his friends, and he wanted to find out why a girl like you would have caught his eye, or would need extra money. Usually JYP University students had wealthy parents, and if that wasn't the case, they had at least gotten a temporary job that allowed them to live comfortably. But you had arrived, with your worn converse and patched hoodie, your backpack full of safety pins and big dark shadows under your eyes, screaming to anyone who could see that you didn't quite belong there.

He had wanted to take care of you. It had crossed his mind for an instant to give you a friendly smile, to introduce himself, to ask you about you; he had felt the need to approach you and engage you in a conversation that would allow him to get to know you better. Because as soon as he laid his eyes on you, he knew that despite being two strangers, you were going to be the one who, only with the sweetness of your voice and the kindness of your gaze, would break through all that was and what was remaining of him once you left him, would turn his unleashed fire into a warm hearth. But he wasn't good with words, and you had rushed to grab your phone to busy yourself, watching his chance fade before he could even realize it. It had bothered him how comfortable you seemed to feel with Chris, even though he knew his friend had that effect on people, and how you'd smiled when you'd seen him show up, like he was saving you from someone 一from him.

But at the same time, he had struggled not to curl his lips as he realized how strange you felt in the situation you were in, standing at the entrance of the café, as if waiting for instructions. It wasn't that you were a contradiction, but that you caused him too many dilemmas. Like having to repress that electricity that ran through him the only time you looked into his eyes, when you looked up to check how much his coffee cost and he already had the money in his hand. He had tried not to brush his hand against yours, dropping the coins onto your palm at full speed and picking up his cup, leaving the place, with you still on his mind. He couldn't concentrate in class that day.

Unfortunately, you had no other choice but to focus. The scholarship you had been given depended on your grades, thanks to which you had obtained a place at the university. If you dropped below your grade point average, they would take it away from you, and that was something you couldn't allow. But some thoughts had slipped in your mind about the boy you had met that morning, remembering the shape of his eyes, sharp and rounded at the same time, and his slender figure. You had allowed yourself to smile at the memory of him, even as you hurried to stuff your backpack and boots into the locker at the academy where you worked, your jeans exchanged for a leotard and the most comfortable sweats you had, always arriving a couple of minutes earlier than required so you could get ready.

But even if you wanted to stop thinking about him you couldn't, because soon what you had considered an isolated event became a habit that every day was harder to break. The next morning, after barely five hours of sleep, you got up again, crawling as best you could to the outside of your cramped room, your body trying to feed on the freshness that the shower had left on your skin, your heavy backpack digging into your shoulders. And when you managed to reach the café, the keys tightly clutched in your fist, he was there, again, his long figure leaning against the grille, again, and his gaze fixed on his phone, again.

When he heard you, your stifled pants revealing your presence, he sought your eyes, separating himself from the wall so that you could open. You bent down, sitting back on your heels, to undo the lock on the grille, and accompanied it with your hand as you stood up again, mimicking the hop you'd seen Chris take the day before to get it all the way up. Unfortunately, it only got halfway up, and you felt your cheeks redden with embarrassment, fearing that Minho had seen it. Still you pretended nothing had happened, trying to straighten your shoulders under the weight of the backpack, unlocked the door, leaving it open behind you, and stepped inside.

You repeated the steps that Chris had indicated to you the previous morning, going directly to the electric panel to turn on the power, and then you entered the kitchen, crossing it until you reached the room reserved for the staff, leaving your backpack on one of the chairs, and taking the apron that had your name on it before leaving. You hung it around your neck as you undid your steps, and by the time you got behind the counter Minho was already pinning his catlike gaze on you.

"Grande cappuccino to go?" you asked, your fingers tapping on the surface like a piano in a nervous gesture that Minho found adorable.

He merely nodded, averting his gaze to his phone screen, as if he had somewhere more important or urgent to be and was checking the time to make sure he had enough minutes left to get there. It was a somewhat pretentious gesture on his part, without stopping to think whether it would make you feel better or worse, but he couldn't help it. He was torn between absorbing every detail you could offer him, and trying to delay the moment when you would reject him, when his feelings would be too obvious to be denied. And even if he had mentally chosen the second option, he let his gaze follow you as he performed a graceful dance with the sole purpose of making his coffee.

He had noticed a difference from when Chris made it to when you had made it. Minho didn't know if it was your expert hand or some ingredient you had used to make it, but it tasted slightly sweeter. And since he had tasted it he hadn't been able to stop thinking about what your lips would taste like, if he got to kiss them someday. Minho kept telling himself that it was a silly crush, that the butterflies he felt in his stomach when you handed him his glass were the effect of hunger, of thirst, of any excuse he could think of but the ghost of the feel of your skin on his. Or maybe you were a witch, and had used his cappuccino as a love potion.

However, it didn't matter anymore. If you had wanted to have him trapped in your web, he wasn't going to be the one crying out for help to be rescued. Not when he felt his heart falling off a cliff every time you looked at him, adrenaline racing his pulse, not knowing for sure when it would stop. At least until he handed you the money, turned around and walked out of the café, the bite of the cold winter air bringing him back to reality, leaving behind the pleasant warmth of the place, and also of your smile, which he could still feel in the palm of his hand thanks to the coffee you had made for him.

And meanwhile you watched him walk away, the coins still in your hand, until there was no trace of him left. Then you sighed, coming out of that strange daydream in which you were interacting ーif you could call what you were doing thatー and put the money away, leaving the apron on the counter and taking a chair. Your problem wasn't being short, it was not knowing how to jump high, you decided, as you leaned the chair against the street and looked up, more than willing to climb the grille to the same height Chris had left it the day before.

To your surprise, it was in place, even though you knew perfectly well that you had left it halfway up only five minutes earlier. You shrugged your shoulders and went back inside, leaving your chair in place and hurriedly putting on a black shirt before tying on your apron and starting your day.

The next morning, you went to work with your heart in a fist, expecting to see him leaning against the grille, letting out a small sigh of relief when you saw that he was. You hid the smile that struggled to appear on your lips, and frowned as you looked at him, refusing to let the mere presence of a stranger affect your mood that way.

This time, Minho greeted you with a quick glance and a small nod, a display that made you blush, hiding your reddish cheeks from him as you bent down to lift the grille. You figured that this routine between the two of you would be repeated quite often, since you weren't planning to quit your job and he was going to need his coffee every morning, so you decided to put all your effort into maintaining a cordial relationship with him.

You soon realized that he was the type of person who also got up early on weekends, since you still had to cover your shift and he was still at his usual 5:30 am spot. You had no idea what he was studying ーor even if his major that was the reason he was getting up so early. And it wasn't like you were going to ask Chris either, you didn't know him well enough to figure out if he would tell Minho or not.

In fact, he kept making stupid excuses for why he had to go to your unofficial morning appointments. He told himself you wouldn't have anyone to climb the grille for you. What if the lock on the door got stuck and you couldn't get in? His coffee addiction had nothing to do with it, although he would probably develop one just from drinking so much cappuccino, and if he didn't feel like getting up one day, just the thought of knowing that he would be able to see you before going to class made him wake up instantly.

And somehow he ended up going on the weekends as well. The first Saturday just to see if you were also working those mornings, stuttering his order when he saw that you had already opened and he hadn't been there, but after taking the first sip from his cup he had to sit for a long time on one of the benches in the nearest park, feeling sick at the fixation he had developed with you.

Could he consider it a crush when he tried to look for you with his eyes every time he leaned to wait for you, pretending to use his phone? When he walked through the corridors of his college and thought he recognized your beautiful hair in the crowd, only to end up being a random girl? When his heart stopped for a few moments as soon as he entered the café that morning just because he heard you laugh? 

That Sunday he was on the verge of not going. But every minute that passed and it got closer to the time to open the café, his anxiety increased, so he dressed in the first shorts he could find and a shirt he had lying on his bed and decided to go for a run. He wasn't a big fan of doing sports, but he liked the feeling that flooded his body once he finished, exhausted, knowing that it had been worth it. He had jogged towards 5STAR, towards you, ready to drink his morning coffee.

Until that moment the only thing that kept him from murdering anyone who bothered him as soon as he woke up had been the caffeine shot, but he had lately been smiling only thanks to you for a week, and it was much healthier that caffeine. That Sunday you had looked at him, surprise on your face, probably because he had changed his normal outfit for a slightly more revealing one, and you had had to clear your throat before asking if he would have a cappuccino. He had smiled shyly and asked for a pastry to go with his coffee, since he wasn't willing to go running on an empty stomach, and had waited as long as it took while you put the first batch of croissants in the oven.

He had pretended not to notice, too, when you stole glances at him from the kitchen, blushing when he couldn't help himself anymore and made eye contact with you. After all those days he still wondered why you kept asking him if his order was still a cappuccino, when his answer had always been yes, but he would never dare to find out, because hearing your sweet voice was a hell of a lot better than all the alarms on his phone. What he didn't know was that you adored the look on his face, his lips curving slightly and nodding adorably, and that you weren't willing to give that up either.

The mornings went on, each and every one of them with the same repressed interaction, and the same warm feeling in your chest as you said goodbye to each other until the next day, neither of you making the first move. You had grown accustomed to his presence, almost inherent in your morning routine, and he had learned to soften his attitude in front of you, but never without exchanging more than three words in a row.

The first time you said something different, a few weeks later, was when you mustered the courage you needed to thank him for raising the grille for you every morning. At first he had done it slyly, taking advantage of you coming into the kitchen to make a little jump and push it up. Then he hadn't cared if you saw it or not, realizing that if he wanted you to notice him he would have to be a little more obvious. And now he was doing it without any kind of embarrassment, waiting for you to pull it up more or less to your height to take the leap, in front of you.

"Thanks for helping me with the grille" you had whispered, pouring the milk into the glass, while the coffee was being made behind your back.

He had made a nonchalant gesture, as if it wasn't that important, or if he had done it for anyone, and he had seen you smile, embarrassed, but his ears had turned red.

That same day, taking advantage of meeting up at Han's apartment with the group of friends, he followed Chris into the kitchen when he offered to go get more beers and tried to ask some sly question about you. Chris was no fool, evidently, but he let Minho get the information he wanted. It was most adorable to see his gaze light up at the mere mention of your name, or how he drank in the words Chris whispered hurriedly about you, fearful that any of the others would walk unannounced into the kitchen and interrupt them.

You, on the other hand, had begun one of the most difficult periods of the term: when your exams were combined with the recitals of the girls you were teaching, limiting your time even more and drowning you in due dates, subjects to study and two jobs you couldn't afford to loose. You couldn't complain about how lucky you had been to find jobs that matched your preferences, but you did say, without hesitation, that the one at the café was much better than the one at the dance academy. Not only in something as obvious as the salary, but the conditions were nicer with Chris as the boss than with that man who had assumed that because you were a woman and beautiful you would surely be better at teaching ballet and dealing with the little girls.

That was what you had confessed to Han, since his shift was the one after yours, while you took advantage of the brief ten minutes he managed to save for you, arriving earlier than he should have, and you spent by having a coffee. He had nodded, giving you to understand that he was listening to you, while he stored all that information to be able to communicate it later to Minho. All the co-workers you had dealt with had been very nice to you, but Han was your favorite. He compensated for your introversion with witty and funny comments on his part, which made you burst out laughing and the mood relaxed. He always paid attention to everything you said - even if he had hidden intentions to do so - and you had several hobbies in common.

Besides, he was the only one who would talk to you about Minho without having to ask, and even if you pretended to be disinterested, he could see the way you nodded at his words, and your lips tried to avoid curling up at the silly anecdotes in which you were utterly oblivious to this different version of the gentle Minho who said good morning to you. He would brighten up your breakfasts, at least until you realized what time it was and rushed off to avoid missing your morning classes.

Because the classes were also demanding enough. It may not have been as difficult as a science degree, but the exams on music history and dance, along with all the physical sessions and dances you had to prepare for the end of the semester not only tired you mentally, but you would arrive home at night totally exhausted, with just enough energy to take a shower and go to bed. You would also skip a meal or two due to lack of time, resulting in quick snacking whenever you had a second. More than once your belly had growled in the morning, in front of Minho, and you had formulated a quick apology, without even turning around, too embarrassed.

They weren't the best conditions for a healthy life, even less if you were a teenager trying to survive, but it was the only - and best - thing you had. At least you had your mornings at 5STAR, with the opportunity to see Minho every day without fail, and the hours at the academy with your girls, who were immensely fond of you. Seeing their excited faces when you proposed to change the typical play based on the Nutcracker or Swan Lake for an invented version with all the Disney princesses made the two nights you had spent almost without sleep planning the story and the choreography worthwhile. That way everyone would have a starring role, and not just the one who got the main role, which was something you had missed in your childhood, so you were happy too.

One morning, however, when Minho came to your not-date, the café was already open. It wasn't that the fact itself was strange ーyou had sometimes arrived early because you hadn't been able to sleepー but that the grille was all the way up, and you always left it halfway up no matter what time you arrived. When he entered, the door bell ringing behind him, the one who came out to greet him was Changbin, another of his friends, who flashed a mischievous grin at his confused face.

"Looking for your girl?"

"YN is not my girl" he protested, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

"Ah, but you took it for granted I was talking about her" the boy replied, winking at him, starting to make his coffee.

Minho missed your sleepy voice as you murmured good morning to him, and the graceful way you moved behind the counter, in and out of the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients and utensils you needed to prepare his breakfast, which although varied in pastries, always consisted of a cappuccino. He pulled out his wallet, preparing the coins he always counted out before handing you over, and the movement caught Changbin's attention.

"So you're not going to ask?" he said, rephrasing, still with his back turned.

"You seem to be eager to tell me," he replied, rolling his eyes, "so go ahead."

"Oh, you're no fun" Changbin complained, his face contracting into an adorable pout.

"I didn't mean to be" Minho said, cracking a sarcastic smile.

"You know what, I'm sure you wouldn't have responded to her like that" he muttered, pouring the milk into the cup. "Anyways, I'm sure Han will text you as soon as he finds out, but Chan hyung convinced her to ask for a couple of days off."

"Chan hyung?" Minho couldn't help but frown, not understanding.

"Apparently, YN has been pushing herself more all month" Changbin explained, picking up a cup-sized cap, finishing his friend's order, "and you know how Chan hyung is when he sees someone overworking."

"He gets all protective" summed up the dancer, paying for the drink.

"Exactly" he stated, crossing his arms once Minho had his coffee in his hand, "and she must have been having a really hard time. I guess Chan hyung asked her about her schedule to find out which days would be better for her to rest, and yesterday he asked me if I could cover her shift."

And it had been that way. Just the day Chan had decided to stop by to see how you were doing, he had found you passed out on the kitchen floor. You had made him promise not to tell anyone, and he had sworn to keep his lips sealed, only if you let him make sure you were okay. He had woken up one of the other employees, and then had taken you to his house. You had been somewhat shocked by the seriousness with which he had taken it all, but you had let him do it, rambling about everything you had to do and how little time you had, while he prepared a very nutritious breakfast for you.

"You should quit that job at the academy" he had advised you, his gaze fixed on the chicken frying in the pan.

"I can't" you had protested, whining, "there's less than a week until the Christmas performance. I couldn't let the girls down like that."

"Are you willing to quit after that, though?"

"If I find a better job," you had supposed, shrugging, trying to avoid yawning.

"What if I offer you a double shift at a higher salary?" he had proposed, filling the plates with food and setting them in front of you, reaching for a clean set of chopsticks, "I can even switch you to the afternoon, so you'll get more sleep."

"That's very kind of you, Chris," you had murmured, "but I don't know if it would be a good idea. Or legal, at this rate. You're already paying me more than my fair share."

"You could find a roommate, then" he had continued, not giving up, "I know a guy who..."

"Thank you, really," you had tried again, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at his effusiveness, "but I'd rather sort it out myself."

Chan had looked down, blushing as he realized he had gone too far anyway, and had apologized, leaving you to eat in peace. You couldn't thank him enough for how much it had meant to you that he had accepted you into his house and fed you, but he had more surprises up his sleeve. He had told you that he was going to give you two days off, and also that he knew someone in your class who could get you the notes of what you would be taking that week in the main subjects, so that you could spend the next few days resting. Before saying goodbye, you had given him a big hug, almost crying, and you had returned to your little room, more than ready to faint from exhaustion.

But Minho didn't know that. For him it was the first time you had been absent, and the first notice that you were really that unwell. Not that he hadn't noticed the dark circles under your eyes, but you had always looked so cheerful in front of him in the mornings, with that bright smile that lit up the café when you saw him, that he hadn't realized the real gravity of the situation. And he blamed himself for it, for his lack of attention to detail, for having been so absorbed in his feelings that he hadn't realized your own reality.

That's why the next day he didn't go: it didn't make sense, since he knew you weren't going to be there. And in any case, he wasn't in the mood to get up so early. He didn't go to class either, his mind too absent-minded to attend to three straight hours of long, monotonous explanations. But he didn't miss his daily appointment at the dance academy, one of the few places where he could let himself go, it's physical exertion and music taking him away from all the buzz he had in his head. He would go to practice the dances he had to present in his subjects, but also to memorize choreographies he found on the internet or create his own from scratch.

The mere fact of putting the bottle of water and the change of clothes in his sports bag for later made a slight curve form on his lips, wishing that the subway would move at the speed of light so he could arrive as soon as possible, and nodding as a greeting to one of the owners of the place, who was always sitting at the reception desk, heading straight to the studio he had booked.

That evening Yewon was not in her usual place, but running back and forth, somewhat stressed, having exchanged her usual low heels for ballet slippers.

"Hello, Minho!" she greeted him, waving some papers with a hurried gesture. "You have studio C10, as usual, but I will have to change it tomorrow!"

"What's all the fuss about?" he asked, securing the strap of his bag over his shoulder in a nervous gesture.

"Two of our teachers couldn't make it today, and it was unexpected," she explained, not bothering to use the comfortable office chair to type something quick on the computer. "Jisoo took maternity leave after a little scare with the baby, to be at home and rest. But Jinyoung has finally quit."

"The one who wanted to set up his own academy?"

"That same one," she replied, trying to stifle a complicit laugh. "I'm covering his ballet classes, but I'm short of someone to take over Jisoo's hip hop classes. You wouldn't be willing to volunteer, would you?"

"With kids?" Minho tried not to let his panicked face show too much.

"Yes, but only today," she replied, letting out a melodic laugh. "You can wipe off that scary face, don't worry. My sister is in Jeju, sorting out some family issues, and she'll be back tomorrow. She'll take care of it until Jisoo and her baby are healthy and the happy mom can continue working."

"Huh" he knew he couldn't refuse, not when Yewon had always been so nice to him, even if he was late on one of the months' payments, always greeting him with a smile. But children made him panic. Those little humans who judged you without a filter, always bursting his eardrums with the screams they made, and so wild that they deliberately ignored any orders they received. He realized it sounded like he was describing real demons, but in his experience, it was totally justified. "Right."

Yewon clapped her hands in excitement and led him to one of the studios reserved for afternoon classes. They always put the children in the larger rooms, so they could run around freely. And if you were able to teach ballet for whole afternoons to children, surely it couldn't be too bad for him. After all, he was pretty good at hip hop, and he had a couple of easy choreographies he could teach.

Luckily, the group was small ーfour boys and three girlsー more than willing to learn, half of them with dreams of becoming idols, and all of them with wide eyes watching him dance for the first time. It wasn't the first time people had complimented him, but the fact that eight-year-olds were looking at him with such admiration made him die of embarrassment, and also made it seem much more real than any empty words they could ever give him.

When the time came to an end, he had gotten as much exercise as any other day, had laughed a lot more, and had not been alone, like the vast majority of his afternoons, though unfortunately he had not found a solution to your problem. Yewon left the ballet studio, sweating but smiling, waving goodbye to his students, thanking him again and again after Minho high-fived all his children. It was only after a quick shower that he knew what he should do.

The break had been wonderful for you. You had dedicated yourself to sleeping and eating, without worrying about anything but going to your ballet classes on time, and you were afraid that getting used to it would be easier than breathing. You kept telling yourself that what you were experiencing was a temporary hiatus for a couple of days, something Chris had managed to do but it wouldn't last forever, and that you should be grateful. Although you should also try to figure out what was going to be your life after that, because going on as you were was not an option.

But you were tired of looking for a job and the options getting worse. If the pay was perfect, the schedule was bad for you. If it fit with your classes, it wasn't worth it because it was too far away or the salary wasn't enough. You were definitely going to keep the job at the café, but you also wanted to keep the job at the academy. You were totally lost. Maybe you could stay the same for a couple of months, asking for fewer hours and saving a little more at home. Cut back on showers to the academy bathroom, and try to ration your meals. It could work.

After the established time had passed, you came back. And you were looking forward to it. You got up energized, grabbing a couple of pieces of fruit while you packed your stuff in your backpack, and even noticed it less heavy on the way to the café. When you arrived, you didn't see Minho in his usual place, but since it wasn't the first time either you shrugged your shoulders and opened the grille, leaving it halfway and going in, following the routine that by now, you knew by heart. You busied yourself with the trays of croissants and brownies that some co-worker called Felix was leaving ready on his shift for the next day, waiting for Minho to arrive. You had the milk ready, the coffee powder already in the machine. All you needed was for him to show up to press the button and serve it to him.

Only he didn't show up.

It was the sound of the grille going up that made your heart race, and you left the staff room totally hopeful. But although you expected to see the young man with the mischievous smile and gentle gaze, you found a guy you didn't know at all, looking lost, and a little nervous tic in his hand. You took a big breath of air, forcing a smile, and stood behind the counter.

"Good morning," you murmured. "What will you have?"

"Oh, hi" he said to you, trying to avoid your glance. "I didn't know if it was open yet...".

"Yeah, yeah" you affirmed, the shy curve of your lips reassuring the boy, "don't worry. I usually have a friend of mine come over to help me with the grille, but he's not here yet."

"Then I was right to put it up, wasn't I?" he asked, his fingers still drumming on the surface of the counter.

"Yes, of course," you confirmed, your hands fiddling with the edge of the apron, trying not to let your disappointment at the boy's presence show too much, "thank you. What will you have?"

"A macchiato, please."

Similar to a cappuccino, you thought, unable to get Minho out of your mind. You didn't know why his absence was affecting you so much. You didn't even have that much of a relationship. Outside of your greetings, and small conversations here and there, you didn't interact much else. Even if after all this time you felt you had known him all your life, even if seeing him in the mornings made your day, even if you wished you could spend your whole life mixing espresso with milk if it meant Minho smiled the way he did.

Your shift took forever, each coffee making lasting longer than necessary, and perhaps too short, customers coming and going and none of them being who you expected. You understood that the shock must have been the same for him ーin case his feelings for you were remotely similarー on the days you had been absent, and you feared that he had grown tired. That so many shared mornings would have been for nothing, and yours would have been a relationship by proximity. It wasn't the first time you had maintained such a friendship with people, because you were forced to go to the same place together every day, and not because there was actually any bond.

Maybe he thought you were not coming back, and had decided to look for coffee somewhere else. Maybe you had misinterpreted everything you had experienced, and had taken cordiality for friendship. Maybe nothing of what you felt was reciprocated, and again you had been daydreaming.

Despite all your efforts, you couldn't concentrate on your classes that day. You took the lunch break you had promised Chris, pulling out of your backpack a container of a small salad you had made yourself in the morning and a piece of brownie Han had slipped in when he thought you weren't looking. After retiring to the library for a couple of hours to study you went to the academy, ready to go over the dance with your girls.

You wore your leotard under your jeans, so, as usual, you only had to put on your sweatpants and ballet slippers, locking yourself in the studio half an hour early to dance by yourself for a while, and at five o'clock, letting it fill up with energetic and joyful girls, ready to become their favorite Disney princess for a few hours. You always had a great time, and in your heart it made up for everything it meant in your private life.

After the shower, as you were coming out of the changing room with your hair still slightly damp but back in your normal clothes, your backpack slung over your shoulder, walking down the hallway towards the lobby, you stopped when you heard Minho's voice. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but you could hear the angry voice of your boss, and you peeked your head around the corner, trying to see without being seen, in time to see your boss hit the table lightly and Minho frown in an annoyed gesture, turning around.

You hurried out, ignoring the exclamations of your boss calling you, and followed Minho. He was carrying a cup of coffee that wasn't from 5STAR, and for a moment you feared it was over altogether. That he had found somewhere else to buy his cappuccino. That maybe your friendship had broken down without you realizing it. That it didn't mattered if you thought you didn't care if it never evolved into something more ーsomething you longed forー, you were content with whatever it was that you had. You noticed also the jacket he was wearing, the logo of a dance academy that wasn't yours drawn on his back, and tried to match his long steps to reach his pace.

He was heading in the direction of the bus stop where you usually caught the one that dropped you off near where you lived, and you got on after him, sitting down next to him, still frowning.

"YN?" he mumbled, taking off one of his earbuds so he could talk to you, turning his body slightly to try to face you.

"What were you doing talking to Mr. Kang?"

"Huh?" he asked, as if he hadn't understood anything you had said.

"I've never seen you outside the café before," you told him, propping your backpack between your feet, "and just the day you don't come in the morning I see you in the afternoon at my academy, when you don't even come here."

"Well... It has an explanation" he tried to defend himself, his ears turning red. "Han had said... Ehem, since you didn't come to work these days... I..."

"I was resting" you told him, leaning your back against the backrest, "I had been having some complicated days, and Chris has recommended me to change jobs, but I don't know..."

"I know" he interrupted you, "I know. That's why I was talking to your boss."

"What?"

"He told me that next week is the performance you've been working on for the past few months" he summarized, avoiding looking at you, not feeling ready to find out if he had taken too much of a risk or not. "I wanted him to make your work conditions better, and maybe I told him that the academy I go to they have an opening for a ballet teacher so he should watch out how he treats you. They pay like a normal job, not a part-time one, and the schedule is the same."

"Really?" you stifled a cry of excitement, covering your mouth with your hand, "Oh my God it's perfect! It's literally the miracle I was waiting for! I'm so happy I could..."

"You could...?" he repeated, urging you to finish the sentence.

But you couldn't finish it. You didn't know if you should. It would be crazy, in fact.

"Whatever," you solved, seeking to change the subject, "it doesn't even have to do with dancing."

"And what does it have to do with?"

You cleared your throat, mumbling an answer you knew he couldn't hear, too embarrassed to let it sink in, hoping he had heard it, and also hoping the opposite at the same time.

"With you" you repeated, this time louder, looking into his eyes when he asked you to say it again.

"With me?" he breathed, his heartbeat increasing its speed, roaming his gaze all over your features.

"Yeah" the worst thing it could happen was that he rejected you, and he never came againg to the café. And you already thought that was what had happened, so there was no point in not trying it. "I was going to say that I'm so happy I could kiss you right now".

"Kiss me?" unable to think straight, he was only repeating what you voiced, watching your lips moving and your cheeks slightly blushed.

You flashed a bright smile and caressed his cheekbone, the pad of your finger gentle and soft against his skin, and his breath got caught in his throat, swallowing hard, and confirming your crazy theory of him liking you back. He tried to touch you the same way, his hand twitching with anticipation, but it fell to his lap when you kissed him, his eyes closing down immediately to focus on the way your lips moved over his, lazy, slowly, enjoying every single second.

Minho knew that he had fell first, and harder, and then he had waited patiently for you to reciprocate his feelings. And when you did, you understood that his heart was so full of love and adoration you couldn’t stop yourself to love him in the same deep, absolute and fathomless intensity.

☆ series masterlist !!

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© stayconnecteed 2023 · do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms

#about: i wanna be yours #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho fluff #lee know fluff #☆ㅤ🪐 writings #☆ㅤminho recs!!

[demonfamilytherapist]

MC Teaches the Brothers to Pole Dance

Inspired by me taking pole lessons. No real warnings - some of them are a bit suggestive, but that’s it.

Mammon

Most likely to injure himself. Not out of lack of strength - he’s just way too eager to impress you, so he tries more showy moves without getting the technique down first.

He also tends to throw himself into the spins more, which works fine when the pole is static (fixed), but when the pole is on spin he ends up with way too much speed.

Can get frustrated easily, but is also pretty quick at picking it up.

Tends to prefer moves that look impressive, regardless of their actual difficulty.

To show off, he sometimes shifts into his demon form mid-performance to stretch his wings and show off more interesting shapes.

Levi

Most nervous to start out with.

Needs a lot of encouragement to even give it a go. Won’t practice in front of his brothers - luckily, private lessons with you are a pretty good selling point.

He actually practices mostly in his demon form because his tail makes him feel more stable.

It actually does add a pretty good grip point to the pole. His scales are naturally inclined to hold on.

The more revealing clothing that’s kind of necessary for pole is another thing that makes him uncomfortable at first, but again, seeing you in just as little or less is another good selling point.

Once he gets past his initial nerves, his tail actually gives him a lot of flexibility on what he can do.

He tends to do variations on moves that allow him to rely more on his tail, since it’s his strongest limb.

Beel

Beel’s a natural and dedicated athlete, so he takes to pole very well.

He does need a few reminders on his technique - he can brute force his way through most things with sheer strength, and is often more focused on completing the move rather than performing it.

He sees it as a great way to bond with you. Once he figures out what muscles are most important, he’s really eager to discuss other ways to strengthen them so you can both improve.

He’s a really good doubles partner, since he can take the extra weight of you half hanging off him.

Prefers arm-based moves - while he can grip with his legs, he never feels as comfortable.

His wings don’t help too much with anything, but they can look very nice in the right lighting for a performance.

Asmo

Asmo is way ahead of you.

Well, sort of.

He has a good idea of the basics, but he’s generally only used it for fashion photoshoots and… private shows… neither of which really focused on a variety of moves.

That being said, he’s really enthusiastic to learn more with you!

He buys a lot of cute, very expensive pole outfits. He’s really eager to shop with you, too. Would love to match.

Asmo is a very fast learner. He’s stronger than he looks, so he’s able to physically do most of the moves right away. Mostly he just needs to refine his technique, and Asmo is a natural performer.

Anything that shows off his best angles is a good move in his book. He likes to have one arm free to blow kisses.

His wings are a wonderful accessory, and they’re also small enough not to get in his way.

Satan

Satan doesn’t really understand the point… But he’ll go along with it. It’s a good opportunity to learn more about you, and human world art forms.

It takes him a while to get the hang of it. His analytical mind is a blessing and a curse, helping him understanding the techniques and moves but often leading him to overthink in the moment.

Most likely to study up outside of your interactions - he’s the least thirsty guy following a bunch of pole dancers.

He tends to prefer slower routines that allow him to plan ahead and show off both technical skill and artistry. He’s also a surprisingly decent choreographer, probably only behind Asmo (with Levi being the other pretty good one).

He is banned from demon form on the pole. His tail is too hard and sharp, and could end up scratching it.

Belphie

It’s too much effort. And if it’s something Asmo’s that into, it can’t be worth much…

But if it’s that important to you, sure, he’ll give it a go.

Belphie is almost annoyingly good at pole once he starts taking it semi-seriously. He’s a fast learner, and keeps a cool head even when in weird and uncomfortable positions.

The biggest risk is when he falls asleep while on the pole and just… drops.

For this reason it’s best to avoid moves that are too stable or horizontal. He ends up being really dynamic just because otherwise he risks dozing off.

While putting this much effort into anything isn’t his usual style, he’s glad he gets to show off for you.

His tail isn’t grippy enough to be all that helpful, but it can be useful as a little extra support for some of the weirder positions.

Lucifer

Lucifer will not go to a group class with his brothers.

He will scoff and roll his eyes at the suggestion of a private practice.

But every time you’re with his brothers, he’s taking a close look at the moves.

In the evening, he returns to his room and summons a pole from the human world.

He practices every evening, sometimes giving up sleep. He keeps watching you practice, picking up more ideas and refining his skills.

Then, one day, while you’re trying to teach one of his brothers a certain move, he’ll walk up.

“It’s simple. Like this.”

He will do it perfectly. First try. And somehow in gloves and a full suit.

He is going to be smug about it for weeks.

#obey me #omswd #obey me headcanons #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #demon bros #my writing #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer

[lafaiette]

I've seen some people ask for comparisons between Pen's Chinese and English lines, so I made a small compilation to show the biggest changes that most baffled me.

There is a kind Chinese player, Yu, who offered the fandom much of the info and insight contained in this post, and she was the first to shed light on these differences! Without her enthusiasm, I doubt people would have started investigating Pen's original lines ;_;

Under the read more because this is long!

Brief premise: the Chinese dialogues in the game are often less "harsh" than the English ones. For example, Qi can sound rude and condescending in English, while he's pretty polite, if not a bit aloof, in Chinese. Justice's lines in English rely on the typical "hey pardner" cowboy accent, while in Chinese he's very professional, almost overly so.

That said, the English writer who worked on Pen made it no mystery that he based his characterization of Pen on Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. There is even a line directly referencing the movie: "[...] when I was a boy I ate four dozen eggs every morning to help me get large. Now that I'm grown I have five dozen eggs [...]"

As such, English Pen sounds much different from Chinese Pen. He's more patronizing and rude, and the writer added stuff that it's simply not present in the Chinese text. So while in English Pen can sound like a knucklehead obsessed only with muscles and training, surrounded by adoring women and fans when in Duvos, in Chinese he shows a different, almost more innocent side, as if he were a very tall and big child who has never had a day of legitimate and healthy fun in his life (and that's carried across in some of the English lines - that's why his English version is a bit contradicting sometimes).

Here are some examples:

One of his lines as a Good Friend is:

Here it's implied that Pen gives the Builder a hard time not only to push them to improve themselves... but also because he likes doing it, referencing his friendship mission where he admits he doesn't like teaching people anything, he just wants to fight them.

Meanwhile, the Chinese version says:

I keep calling you a weakling just to urge you and encourage you to exercise hard and break through your limits. If you won't have me to protect you in the future, you will have to become an eagle for me!

Here "eagle" is a reference to the way Pen calls the Builder in Chinese: 小弱鸡 "little weakling/little chicken" - and the latter is a rude way to call someone in Chinese, especially if they are a man and the "chicken" character (鸡) is repeated twice (but 鸡 by itself is also slang for "female prostitute"... so if you want to read it that way, Pen can call the Builder "my little slut" when in a relationship. HEH.)

In any case the tone in this line of dialogue is much different from the one in English, and Pen sounds genuinely enthusiastic.

Another example:

At the start of the game, Pen asks the Builder to craft a Sword and Shield for Burgess, who apparently misplaced his own. It turns out Burgess hid them under his bed, so when the Builder tries to give the weapons they crafted to Pen, he will tell them to keep them.

As usual, the English version is mocking and patronizing ("Hah! That'd be rich!"). In the Chinese version, Pen first compliments the desert:

In this case, take it back and use it for yourself! Use it to explore the desert and fight those monsters - what a thrill! The desert is very dangerous, but it is also full of charm.

Then there is the line about Logan and his band:

Hey! Maybe you can still find traces of Logan's gang! If you subdue them, you will gain both fame and fortune! [Okay, see you next time] [not shown here]

Now, some romance stuff : >

This is the description for the Robo-Love Couch. In English it says:

Meanwhile the Chinese description:

Referred to as the "Love Sand Machine", Peng Hu specially built a loving sofa for you, pieced together from the remains of robot monsters in the ruins.

He specially built a loving sofa for the Builder. It seems like a silly detail, but wording is important!

And yes, Pen's full name is Peng Hu, 彭虎. Peng is his family name, Hu his birth name. Hu 虎 means "tiger", and now you can understand why Grace suspected him to be Tiger the spy. But that would have been too easy!

Peng 彭 is a common Chinese surname. Its original meaning is believed to be "sound of war drums" (sad implication), but it's also used as an adjective to mean "big". So Pen's full name can mean "big tiger" :D

Back to the couch! Lines are different during the date in Paradise Lost, too.

Come on, little weakling, come and sit next to me. Let's give this trophy a "kiss of victory"! Do you do this with everyone you date? Wait, it seems I'm regretting it a bit... Happiness comes too suddenly...... (Kiss Peng Hu)

In the English version, the Builder can ask "How many of these thrones have you built...?", implying that Pen has had so many lovers he can craft this couch in a matter of few seconds. But in Chinese, the Builder's question is much different, it's more like: "Damn, are you always so over the top when dating someone??"

One of the biggest differences is in this set of lines:

Okay.

Meanwhile, in Chinese:

Today's experience made me realize that love has used a deadly locking technique on both of our hearts. Let me no longer doubt the feelings between us. This love is true love! Now, I am even more unwilling to take my eyes away from you! Haha!

I MEAN.

Also, in Chinese Pen never mentions the infamous 12 girlfriends when the Builder and Grace question him in jail. Yu confirmed that throughout the game Pen doesn't brag about his love life or his popularity with women, probably also due to the negative way Chinese culture sees this kind of "bragging".

Not only Pen and many other characters are younger in Chinese Sandrock (Pen's age ranges from 25 to 27, while he's confirmed to be 31 in the English localization), but he's depicted as being not very experienced in relationships in general. He basically only knows how to fight, punch people, and destroy stuff. Anything else - having friends, being with someone who truly loves him and whom he truly loves, having a normal life - are something he never experienced before. He did date (see his final letter later), but he's not described being the Casanova of Duvos like he is in the English version. In fact, it seems people only liked him due to his body and status, and a remnant of this piece of characterization is left in the English text when he says:

Surely, you understand… I am quite the prize. I can’t take myself off the market just to become arm candy for you to show off at your little buildy guild awards or whatever it is! No, what I desire… is true love…

Furthermore,

In Chinese, he says during the Masterclass friendship mission: "To be honest, I never thought I'd be able to make friends, let alone with someone of your stature/body size! But here we are, with a sick relationship!"

In English: "You know, Skinny, I’ve never had someone I really considered a friend before. Furthermore, I always promised myself I’d never be friends with anyone who didn’t have an awesome cape, but… you made me break that promise."

"I never thought I'd be able to make friends" is different from "I’ve never had someone I really considered a friend before." In the first line, the focus is on Pen ("I don't know how to make friends; I'm not good at it; it's not for me; how do you do it?"), in the second it's on other people ("I've been surrounded by people all my life, but I don't consider any of them to be a friend of mine; yeah, I call this one 'friend', but... they are not really really a friend")

The Chinese line is much sadder, and it shows how lonely Pen's life has been. One of his main characteristics, after all, is being "special", "the strongest", "different from everyone else"; but more often than not, being special and different also mean being "lonely". ("I must say it gets lonely at the top… What I wouldn't give for a truly talented opponent who could really keep me on my toes! Alas...")

And now, the grand finale :'>

A screenshot from Yu's playthrough, Pen's final line:

Farewell, Yu. This time it's for real. You're free.

The Protector, the bracelet Pen will leave for the Builder in the cave, is called "Guardian of Love" (爱的守卫者) in Chinese. Its description says:

A very delicate bracelet that protects the wearer's wrist. Wearing it gives the wearer a feeling of being emotionally confined. Perhaps this feeling is similar to what Peng Hu often said, "Marriage is a boring bondage".

His letter in Chinese is also sweeter and sadder:

最近在这所谓的阿塔拉最高监狱，我也多了点时间思考，没法带你一起来陪我，多少有些遗憾。罢了，这事也怪我。不管怎么说，你也算是我交往过的恋人里最让我上心的，也是为数不多分手之后我还继续挂念的。所以，我打算原谅你了。对——我原谅你了。我想我们也没有机会再在一起了，你也不过是做了你那个位置该做的事，没什么值得抱怨的。我应该一开始就努力把你“招安”了，让你跟我一起，才是最妥当的做法。当然我也没怨你，你确实很优秀。我还留了个最后的挑战给你。在某个遗迹里，有我最宝贵的几样东西，如果你能拿到，就归你了。运用我教给过你的一招半式，要去到那里应该很容易。我亲爱的小弱鸡，这是我最后一次这样叫你了，我相信你的能力。记住，不要怠慢了训练。我们，后会无期。

Dear [name], I've had a little more time to think lately in this so-called Atara Maximum Prison, and I'm more than a little sorry that I couldn't bring you along to accompany me. Well, it's my fault. Anyway, you are still the most beloved lover I have ever been with, and one of the few that I continue to miss even after a breakup. So, I'm going to forgive you. Yeah - I forgive you.I don't think there's a chance we'll ever be together again. You're just doing what you're supposed to do in your position, so there's nothing to complain about. I should have tried my best to recruit you from the beginning, and it would have been the best way to keep you with me. Of course I don't blame you, you're indeed excellent. I also left you a final challenge. In some ruins, there are a few of my most valuable things, and if you can get them, they're yours. It should be easy to get there, using the tricks I've taught you. My dear little weakling, this is the last time I'll call you that, I believe in your abilities. Remember, don't slack off on your training. We won't meet again. (but 后会无期 can also mean "meeting at an unspecified/unclear date")

And finally, if romanced, Pen will leave for the Builder 5 pieces of gold, 2 diamonds, and 1 Protector. 521 (and 520) are a cute way to say "I love you" in Chinese, because when read aloud they sound like "我爱你, Wo ai ni, "I love you". But in some cases, 521 also means "Yes, I will [marry you]" - and Pen does drop a diamond ring after his final battle (apparently he drops it only if you romanced him, but it's unclear yet. I'm pretty sure he didn't drop it during my Fang playthrough, while he did drop it when I romanced him, but I'll need to check that).

WELP, this is pretty much everything I got on this! If the kind Yu will tell us more or I find anything else, I'll update this post!

#mtas #mtas pen #my time at sandrock #my time at sandrock pen #PATHEAAAA #YOU HAD A GOLDEN CHARACTER IN YOUR HANDS #AND YOU WASTED THE CHANCE.... #you can see the chinese writers DID put more effort into his characterization #they wanted to write the “bad boy who actually loves you” trope #meanwhile the english writer went for “disney villain/clown bachelor choice” #hahah such fun :')

[oliversrarebooks]

Have you considered what Oliver would be like as a vampire? I think he would be nice, with an aura like when you’re all cozy in bed and don’t have to get up, you can just enjoy the coziness. Treating any thrall he picked up with respect and intelligence, like a student and their favorite teacher.

Masterlist

September 1925 - In another universe...

TW: mind control, hypnotic induction

Pines Rare Books and Curiosities was probably Lex's greatest find since he'd arrived in the city.

It was a tiny shoebox of a store in a run-down district, but every single inch was packed with the most unusual and fascinating books. Not only did Mr. Pines stock hard to find imported books and gorgeous editions of classics, but many eclectic volumes of the kind Lex would never find in his university's library. Books on vampires and werewolves, on witchcraft and magic, on alchemy and sorcery and divination.

Lex was starting to suspect that the nervous-looking, unassuming proprietor might actually be a wizard.

"Good evening, sir," said Mr. Pines -- he always called Lex 'sir' when greeting him, even though Lex was barely twenty and Mr. Pines must be at least a decade older. "Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

Lex felt a bit guilty about spending so much time in the shop and only occasionally buying anything, but Mr. Pines didn't seem to mind. If anything, he encouraged the company, offering books he thought Lex might enjoy and even allowing him to sit in one of the plush chairs behind the counter to read. Lex couldn't resist, drawn to the books and the comfortable chair and the always-roaring fireplace like a moth to the flame. It was such a peaceful retreat from the loud commotion of campus life.

There was a strange look in Mr. Pines' eye as he pulled something from behind the counter. It was a notebook bound in blue leather with no title on the front. "If you don't mind..." he said. "I've been working on writing some stories of my own. I'd like some opinions on them, and I know you have a discerning taste in literature."

"You want me to read your stories?" said Lex, surprised. "Well... I suppose I'd be happy to." Just because Mr. Pines was smart and well-spoken was no guarantee that his writing would actually be good, but Lex felt flattered that he'd asked, and it was the least he could do considering how often he used the bookshop as a sanctuary.

"Then please, have a seat," said Mr. Pines, gesturing to one of the plush chairs near the fire. "I do appreciate the help."

Lex took the notebook and settled himself down. The fire was warm as usual and smelled especially nice today. "What's that scent from the fire, Mr. Pines?"

"Oh, I added dried herbs tonight. The weather has been gloomy, so I thought some nice calming herbs would improve the mood."

Lex took a deep breath. It was so relaxing in the bookshop, as though he could simply let his cares melt away. The notebook had beautiful creamy paper that was satisfying to touch, and Mr. Pines had written out his story in neat script that was easy to read. Before long, Lex was starting to be engrossed in it.

The story followed a vampire, alone and starving in the city after his sire had died, fighting his urges to drink from humans even as he was haunted by the threat of starvation. While it was a straightforward plot, the way it was written was riveting, as though he was actually there, experiencing the feelings of the vampire. At one point, he vaguely wondered how much time had passed, but he couldn't even bring himself to look away from the book long enough to check his watch.

The vampire was giving into his urges, now. He'd lured a young man from a cafe and was ensorcelling him, binding him to the vampire's will. The book described in loving detail how the young man began to succumb slowly but surely to the vampire's hypnotic spell... his mind dulling and slowing, his eyelids growing oh-so-heavy, helplessly getting sleepier and sleepier as the vampire pulled him deeper under his power...

Lex yawned. The descriptions of the young man getting so drowsy were starting to make him feel drowsy, too. The smell of the calming herbs and the pleasant heat of the fire were also lulling him asleep. He'd been here a while, he thought. He should check the time. But he wanted to keep reading.

The young man's eyes began to flutter closed against his will as the vampire drew him so close. "It's too late for you to fight," said the vampire in the story. "You belong to me."

"Yes... master..." said the poor human victim, his mind struggling against the words, trying to fight off the sleepy haze and escape. But it was no use -- the vampire had him utterly at his mercy.

The human's eyes shut tight as he swooned in the vampire's arms, exposing his tender neck for the monster to drink, to feed, to replenish himself off of the victim's life-force...

Lex startled awake. It wasn't as though the book was boring -- on the contrary, it was fascinating -- but the quiet, peaceful shop and the subject matter had him half-asleep. He wanted to finish the story, but he wasn't quite sure where he'd left off. Maybe he should reread the entire part of the vampire enthralling the human, just to make sure he hadn't missed anything...

"What are you doing to me?" said the human in the story. "I feel so strange... so sleepy..."

"Oh, you poor helpless soul," said the vampire, stroking his cheek and directing the human's gaze into his eyes. "You will sleep. You will obey. You will not resist."

Lex swallowed. He didn't understand why he felt so drawn to the victim in the story, why he wanted to be in his place. Why he wanted to read the passage over again. Why it was so hard to think of anything else. Surely that was an insane thought -- no one of sound mind would want to be captured and fed on by some supernatural monster.

"You're getting so sleepy, so helpless, so vulnerable," said the vampire, on Lex's fifth or sixth reread of the passage. 

The words blurred before his eyes. He was... he was so sleepy...

"Shhh, Lex," said a gentle, kind voice at his ear, as a hand tousled his hair. "You're so sleepy, aren't you?"

"Mr... Mr. Pines..." said Lex, so groggy, like he was trying to rouse himself from a deep slumber. "I'm -- your book --"

"So quiet, Lex. You're so very quiet, aren't you? So still and silent while you read."

Quiet... still... silent... yes, that was it... he'd always cherished the quiet...

"Your mind is so quiet. So utterly still. Falling asleep with a good book by the fire."

"Mmmm," he said, with a sleepy smile on his face.

"Let me take this," said Mr. Pines, removing the book from Lex's hands. "You're going to fall asleep now, Lex. And your mind is going to go completely quiet."

Lex didn't even register that something was wrong, that maybe he should resist. He felt completely at ease, peaceful and warm and comforted. As his drowsy eyes fluttered closed, a wool blanket was being wrapped around him, cocooning and immobilizing him. He was being picked up with a strength that may have worried him if his mind weren't falling asleep.

He didn't want to ask where he was going. He wanted to be quiet.

"Sleep, Lex. Sleep deeply in the dark and the silence."

Lex felt as if he were being gently rocked to sleep as he was carried, the creak of stairs giving the only indication of where he was being taken. 

He was set back down again in a few minutes. "You're going to be completely still, Lex. Completely asleep. You won't make a sound. You're going to feel a little pain, but it won't wake you up. And then you're going to drift even deeper asleep."

Lex may have nodded his assent if he weren't so still.

The blanket was being moved, his shirt unbuttoned and moved aside. Something sharp grazed his neck, and then punctured. And then he was falling, falling so deep asleep, so deeply drowsy and still and silent --

He flickered very briefly back into consciousness as he was set onto a bed, before sleep dragged him under once more.

Masterlist Next

I was happy with how this AU scenario turned out! There will be a part two.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @annablogsposts @ghost-whump

#whump #vampire #mind control #whump writing #whumpee #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #alexander #oliver #role reversal au #hypnosis #hypnotic induction