#he is. everything i love. but im trying to be distinctive

[ask-hvac]

The complex taste of exquisite yearning...

Good Morning/Evening/Night to all the renowned yearners! I (like the rest of you) LOVE hector and the worms that coarse through my veins compelled me to make this blog even though I have never used tumblr before in my life! Will I rise to the occasion or will I fall from grace, flown too close to the sun as akin to icarus? Only time will tell! and I am both horrified and excited! So ask your beloved HVAC system that resides in your home that has now come to life from these strange aviators your received from a hacker on thiscord! Every ask I will treat as if you are the player of the game. I'll do my best you guys but show some kindness and consideration, I am just one man after all. (try not to be too freak nasty but also like... i can look the other way) I also! will offer both hector in the attic and hector in the vents! Two very distinct vibes he gives off. Though you'll have to specify if you want attic HVAC. spoilers and whatnot, ya know. if you have any questions for me personally (which, why would you.. we're all here for that ac unit) Go to my other blog! @vin-vinny-vincenzo !! anyway... uhh... erm... lets get this show on the road! Welcome to the ask blog of Hector Valentino Airnesto Condicionado from the hit game Date Everything!

⬇ QUICK UPDATE ⬇

Yea so... uhmm... yea! guess who didn't expect this to go over so well?? in just over a day?? Me! thats who! SO GLAD YOU GUYS ARE ENJOYING THIS AND IM HAVING SO MUCH FUN AS WELL! Im going thru these asks as quickly as I can but I don't wanna half ass them at all... I love hector too much... THERE ARE A LOT OF ASKS THO.. LIKE A LOT... Im not asking you to slow down! not at all! keep them coming! but just know that if you dont see yours quickly... its just cause your in the queue... soon... in due time... also facts are... these might slow down during the weekdays... I suffer a terrible illness thats called... a job... RELEASE ME!! PLEASE!! Thats it for now! Thank you all and I hope youve been enjoying it as much as i have! - Vinny ★

[wraithsoutlaws]

i have two fallout ocs beginning to manifest in the corners of my mind and i can't say much about them right now but. they are there....

[skrunksthatwunk]

just finished the original devilman manga. wuh!!

[oceantornadoo]

inspired by a dramoine fic i read! simon riley x f!reader

it’s the third time today someone has handed you simon’s paperwork and you’re starting to get confused. in fact, there’s the distinct feeling that you’ve missed a memo.

first, it was the visiting captain, so you couldn’t blame him for confusing lieutenants. but then it was johnny turning in his mission report, muttering something about “cannae be late this time if ah give it ye, lass.” which was odd, considering you weren’t his direct report (you were gaz’s). but what really sent you over the edge was getting called into price’s office and being met with a load of folders addressed to one Lt. Ghost (Confidential).

“sir, i’m a bit confused as to why you can’t just give these to him yourself.” price looked up from his desk, eyes flickering from under his boonie hat. “hav’ you seen ‘im today, lieutenant?” you nodded immediately while trying to scoop all of this paperwork (that was not yours!) into your arms. “yessir, i saw him before breakfast and then during training and then…what?” price had silently quirked an eyebrow, his beard echoing the movement. “i haven’t seen ‘im all day, so i figure it’s faster for you to deliver since you’re more well-versed in his movements than i am.” huh. “i’m sure he’s just doing his ghost thing, y’know? slipping into shadows and…”, price patiently gave you an exasperated look, “but i’ll get these to him, sir. see you later!”

the problem was, you knew exactly where simon was. in your office.

his own had an unfortunate ground level window near the track, so he was always complaining about nosy recruits until you offered to share some office space. temporarily, of course. it’s not like you were using all the empty space anyways and it made it much easier to get the opinion of your fellow lieutenant on a report by walking over to his desk, rather than going up and down stairs. that was the second point he made, and who were you to say no?

after pushing open your office door, you beelined for simon’s desk, dumping the stacks of folders on his desk. “wot’s this?” his mask was off so you could see his eyes widen at the mess of papers. “everyone now thinks i’m a drop off box for your paperwork, so i got burdened with all of this when i was doing my rounds.” he nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea. “cheers, love.”

“what do you mean, cheers? don’t you think it’s odd for them to give me your paperwork? and why do we even have so much paperwork? i swear im drowning in it this week.” he snorted at your last sentence, opening the first folder in front of him while you rounded your desk, sitting in your comfy chair with a hmpf. “yer out an’ about more than me, tha’s all.” well, that was true. the infamous ghost was not known to be a sociable person on base. “i guess…” you turned to your old radio, passed down by a retired captain, and turned on simon’s favorite classical station.

“ya want mess or the pub tonight, love?” another great thing about being on base with simon - you never had to pay for dinner. “actually, that thai place we like is doing a special tonight.” he gave you a half-smirk, one cheek ticking up. “bloody raccoon. we had thai two nights ago.” you didn’t respond, instead blinking your best impression of puppy dog eyes at him. simon sighed, then shook his head at his desk. “olrigh’. the things i do.” you smiled and winked, dipping your head back down to your desk. “thanks, si.”

-

two weeks later, you were prepping for a duo mission with simon. price had been grilling the two of you for the past three hours, making sure you had everything memorized. satisfied, he leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his temples, the feeling of a headache coming on. “one more thing.” both of you snapped your head up at price, desperate to leave and eat. you’d already missed dinner and your stomach was complaining.

“the safe house is pretty small, basically a shack. one bed, no couch. i assumed ‘s fine since y’r datin-“ “‘s fine, captain.” simon cut him off, an out of character move that had you frowning. “it’s fine, cap. not like ive never slept on a floor before.” now price was frowning at what you said. he turned to simon, who shook his head imperceptibly before becoming still again. price’s brow furrowed but he didn’t push further. he got up from his chair, eyes flitting suspiciously between you two. “i’ll see you at 0600.”

“what was that about?” you whispered to simon after as you walked down the hall. “‘s nothin’.” you were missing something but it was so unclear what. “he thinks that we’re datin-“ “said it’s nothin’, sweetheart. he’s an old man. let’s get some food in you, yeah?” you nodded, letting him guide you to the kitchen. price wasn’t that old. and you were not dating simon riley.

-

the mission was beautiful, your best one in years. it was the first duo mission between you and simon, so the nerves of pulling your own weight had settled in hard. thankfully, your skills balanced each other out and you’d gotten the target in record time. now, all you had to do was wait in the safe house for exfil.

“you were so good.” you whispered once he’d locked the door. he only hummed a response, checking exit and entry points while you set up your packs, scrounging up MREs and testing the shack for electricity. price wasn’t kidding - it was practically a studio apartment. one bed, a bathroom and a decrepit stove. the soldier part of you was fine with it, but that small soft part of you ached for the warmth of your apartment. memories of yelling at simon for using all your shampoo even though he didn’t live there, of him running you a bath after a long day of training.

“you were good too, baby.” he snuck up from behind your spot on the floor and lifted you onto the mattress that had definitely seen better days. you hadn’t even checked it for bed bugs yet. “c’mere.” he pulled you into his lap, unbuckling your tac vest as you pulled off your bandana. you tugged off his mask - the hard shell since you were on a mission - and ran your nails through his short haircut. simon started kissing your neck, wet and sloppy like he couldn’t get enough. the unrestrained want he displayed sometimes scared you. the respective pulsing in both your chest and cunt scared you more.

“so are you sleeping on the floor or am i?” he flipped you over, your back flush with the mattress as simon loomed over you. there was still eyeblack around his eyes, caught on his blonde eyelashes as well, and you couldn’t help the hand that reached up to brush some of it away. “y’r funny, sweetheart.” you grinned at that - a real toothy smile. he bent down to kiss you, scarred lips caressing your own. simon bit your lip and you moaned, sliding your legs out from under him to wrap them around his torso. when you tugged him in he went willingly, grinding into your clothed cunt. his tac vest was still on, scraping against your shirt, hardening your nipples.

“keepin’ you in this bed all night.” cold fingers dipped past the waist of your pants. you were already wet, his fingers sliding easily up and down your slit as they warmed up. that’s when you realized he still had his glove on, his movements harsher than normal. wide eyes met his own, and simon stopped so you could make a decision.

it didn’t take much as you dug your heels into his back harder, meeting him in a sloppy kiss as his gloved thumb played with your clit. “fuckin’ made for me.” he whispered, and you chalked it up to dirty talk because obviously, you weren’t together. he just knew exactly what to do, giving your clit the right amount of pressure as his other fingers teased your hole, the stretch burning more than usual. it only took a few flicks and you were off, your orgasm settling through your bones like a warm cup of tea. “jesus, si.” he grinned, his scarred lips pulling up to show a beautiful smile. “know ya like th’ back of my hand, huh?” you shook your head, capturing the idiot in another kiss.

-

after the mission, after debrief and a hot shower, you made your way back to your base office. thankfully, paperwork had only slightly piled up. one envelope stood out though - a thick card-stock with glossy, swooping letters. an invite to london’s military gala, addressed to a Lieutenant & Lieutenant. simon’s name was next to yours, connected by a singular symbol. you turned to him in disbelief. simon had been going through his own backlog, but his head snapped up under the focus of your glare.

“simon, are we…dating?”

-

this was fun!!! check out the fic i linked it was so good and i couldn’t put it down.

[hotvintagepoll]

Peter Lorre (The Maltese Falcon, Arsenic and Old Lace, Casablanca)—to me he DEFINES scrungle hes the first person i think of every time the term comes up! i want to fold him up like a paper accordion and put him in my pocket. guy that spawned a million voice artists and impersonators. they made a ghost version of him for halloween cereal staple boo berry. bewitched by his nervous mania and tooth gap <3 (for the purposes of propaganda im linking a photo from his extremely short appearance in muscle beach party bc ive been obsessed w it for years and i couldnt find any video for it :/ anyway imagine youre frankie avalon spending the whole movie battling a bodybuilder faction thats taking over your beach and your girl and then you find out this fucking guy is their mastermind mystery leader and hes stronger than all the bodybuilders combined. like Huh. What.)

Elsa Lanchester (The Bride of Frankenstein, Witness for the Prosecution, Mary Poppins)—Surely somebody's already submitted Elsa Lanchester for this right? Right??? Because her scrungle levels are OFF THE CHARTS in literally everything. The way she's Katy Nanna straight-up refusing to spend another minute with Jane and Michael Banks because she has DIGNITY thank you very much. The way she's Mary Goddamn Shelley stuck listening to Lord Byron mansplaining literature like "ha ha maybe even YOUR little monster story will be published" and she shoots back "It *WILL* be published, *I* think!!!" in the most bright-as-nails fuck-you-Byron voice imaginable. The way she's a nurse herding her lawyer charge through a sordid love-triangle case and we gradually realize the real love story was between her and the lawyer all along. The way she's a clandestine witch casting hexes on telephones, the way she's a princess's PA and helps an old friend steal an invitation card, the way she's a cleaning lady who goes to Germany to personally assassinate Hitler, the way she's a posh village worthy trying to impress Danny Kaye, the way ERRGHH i could go on just look at her scrungle.

These are the the semifinals for the scrungly little guy contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Peter Lorre:

he's pretty much the archetype of the scrungly little guy. the blueprint. the example by which all other scrungly little guys are judged

The entire point of his iconic role in Casablanca (apart from introducing the central plot mcguffin) was to be LITTLE and SCRUNGLY to make Bogie look even cooler. And Maggot in Corpse Bride - the littlest scrungliest guy in that film - was a parody of him.

Between his big eyes, wheezy laugh, short stature, and expressive faces, Peter Lorre achieved icon status as the scrungliest, littlest guy in Hollywood. His scrungly little guy energy was often contrasted with the more typical masculinity of the leading man, but whether this contrast was meant to make him seem especially sinister, comedic, or pathetic, it always left an unforgettable impression!

The perfect sniveling character actor, “scrungly” is the first word that comes to mind when I think of him.

I'm sure somebody else has already submitted him (if not then ???) but he's a cute kind of scrungly little guy. He's got a distinctive nasal voice with an accent that is instantly recognizable and often imitated. His later horror movies are so much fun, especially when he's playing off of Vincent Price. He's so good at being unhinged, creepy, or manic, but also pathetic and sympathetic.

Classic scrungly hollywood golden age little guy who was friends with Humphrey Bogart and still played some of the wettest most sniveling characters ever committed to celluloid (complimentary) there is a deep despair and darkness in many of his characters that enhances his scrungly

To be clear, I am one of those people who will argue that Lorre is one of the most underrated film actors, but the POINT is that he's also just a scrungly delight. A delightfully pocket-sized man. Somehow endearing even when he is being actively amoral (see esp. Casablanca. "I found myself much more reasonable!") The faces he makes while doing the Russian cossack dance with a butter knife between his teeth in Silk Stockings make me laugh just thinking about them.

Wikipedia described his typical characters as "timidly devious", lots of weird little villains and evil sidekicks that are pretty horrifying but still manage to be sort of pathetic and the very definition of "poor little meow meow". His look and voice and mannerisms are so iconic they're still imitated

Cartoons for the next century have and will continue to include Peter Lorre-esque characters when needed to up the scrunge factor (see Bugs Bunny and so many more).

Youtube link for characters inspired by Lorre [editor's note: I'm not actually sure how many of these characters are directly, verifiably influenced by Peter Lorre, so take with a grain of salt. tw for suicide depiction.]

I think Arsenic and Old Lace is his quintessential "scrungly" performance. He's so put-upon and tired...all he wants is sleep and some schnapps! I love the way his shoulders fall slowly when he thinks he's caught (he looks like a sad puppy!), only to gleefully sprint out the door when he realizes how dumb those police officers are.

Elsa Lanchester:

[roanniom]

hi issa! i hope all is well and im so glad you’re back! you are literally one of the best writers ever (and literally my favorite person who writes for eddie) ! i hope you’re day is going good 💛

i would love to request cute; needy eddie phone call (you can make it spicy if you want), maybe the reader went on a girls trip and the reader calls him once at the hotel and he is just miserable 😩

Hi there anon! I'm doing okay, but writing is making everything better. Super happy to do this request.

On the Line

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation

"Eddie. I've been gone for half a day. I was literally with you this morning." You try to make your voice sound reproachful, but your smile cannot be hidden. You're in your hotel room getting ready to go down for dinner with your friends.

"I knowwww, don't remind me. It has been AGONY!"

You hear a muted thump which you imagine to be Eddie throwing himself on his couch near the landline.

"Well what are you doing to distract yourself from this agony?" you ask with amusement.

"I tried touching myself, but I'll be honest, it's more effective now that I can hear your voice, babe."

"EDDIE MUNSON!"

"Whaaaat? What else is there to do?"

"I don't know. Go outside? Maybe touch some grass, you fucking horn dog," you laugh, laying back on the hotel bed.

"I can't exactly go jerk off on the grass, Mrs. Jenkins said she'd call the cops if she ever caught me doing that again - ,"

"Eddie. I will smack you."

"Ugh, don't make promises you can't keep. What do you think I've been imagining?"

You slap an exasperated hand over your face and Eddie moans.

"What was that? Smacking your own ass to give me some auditory stimulation, princess? Do it again!"

"No, that was me covering my eyes from the shame of having such a perverted boyfriend."

"Don't pretend you aren't just as perverted, sweetheart. Even Mrs. Jenkins knows, with how loud you usually are - ,"

"Edward. Munson."

"Mmmm yeah. Say my name, baby."

You can't help but dissolve into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

"Are you actually touching yourself right now?"

"Think about that question for a second. Really let that simmer for me."

Suddenly you hear the most obscene, wet squelching coming from the phone. It's so sudden and so rapid that you pull the phone away from your ear for a second. Clearly Eddie had put the receiver down where he was...taking care of himself.

"Eddie..." you say, but this time it is less reproachful and more breathless.

"Princess." His voice is less humorous now. A little deeper. A little scratchy.

"I have to go in a few minutes..." you trail off wistfully. You've begun to tune into Eddie's more labored breathing.

"Sure about that?"

His voice is gruff. You want to laugh but suddenly find that you can't.

"You know I can still smell your perfume in this fucking trailer, right? Like a god damn temptress. Why would you do that to me, honey?"

The phone is clearly by his lips as you can hear him loud and clear. But similarly loud and clear is the sound of his hand on his cock. Now moving furiously.

But you're not the only one hearing new things.

"I can hear you breathing heavier, baby." Eddie says it conspiratorially. There is the distinct sound of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah well you're turning me on. I'm only fricken human, you know."

"No. I don't know that. Pretty sure you're a goddess." Eddie finishes his statement with a groan. "So what are you wearing...my goddess."

You clutch the phone to your ear and look down at your outfit.

"Well, we're all going out tonight so I'm wearing that sparkly top that you said was too sexy for The Hideout."

"Are you fucking with me right now, sweetheart?" Eddie chokes out. You imagine that he's gripping himself, trying not to cum at the mere image of you in the revealing garment. "You mean to tell me...we've been talking all this time and your tits have just been...out?"

"I'm not naked, Eddie. It's just low cut," you argue, but your body begins to heat up all the same.

"Low cut, huh?" he asks gruffly. "Why don't you reach into that low cut top and touch yourself for me then."

"Oh...kay." You don't even fight him. Your hand cups your breast under the fabric.

"Make sure to pinch and twist your nipples a little. For me."

As if pleasuring yourself will inherently bring him physical pleasure. Which you guess it does, because when you inhale sharply at the feeling, Eddie lets out a moan. You hesitate for a second.

"Is Wayne - ,"

"At work. Don't bring up that old man when I'm so close to cumming." Eddie barks with frustration. You release a breathy chuckle.

"You're already close?"

"Babe. I've been touching myself for hours. I've been on the edge this whole conversation."

"Yeah?" you ask, egging him on.

"Yeah, baby. I'm about to blow hearing your sweet voice."

"Well....you should know that I'm wet." You're being honest. The idea of having to go downstairs in a few minutes is becoming less appealing by the second.

"Oh fuck."

"Yeah. I really want to touch myself, baby."

"Do it." Eddie practically orders.

"I can't," you say, though one of your hands does begin to slide south, between your breasts, down the plane of your stomach, to cup yourself beneath your skirt. You keep the phone cradled between your ear and your shoulder so you can keep one hand on your breast, fingers tweaking your nipple.

"I need you, baby." It comes out more submissive than his previously demanding tone. You lower your voice to match.

"I know, Eddie. Can you cum for me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? You'll cum for me?" You hear his breathing pick up. From the sound of his stroking, he's right there. You rub your palm over your clothed pussy, feeling your clit ache with need.

"Fuck. Yeah I'll...fuck."

"That's it baby, cum for me."

The gasping and sputtering on the other side of the phone overwhelms you and you find yourself grinding against your hand in vain. You won't be able to take care of yourself. Not yet at least. But you know that when you get back to your hotel room later tonight, one of those pillows are really in for it.

"Fuuuck, princess."

"That good, huh?" you ask, cheekily.

"Don't act all proud of yourself," Eddie admonishes playfully. "There's nobody here to clean me up."

Your heart (and pussy) pound at the reference to the way you usually lick up the evidence of his pleasure.

"I'll be back before you know it, handsome."

Eddie sighs.

"You have to go now, don't you." It isn't a question. You laugh.

"I had to go fifteen minutes ago. But I guess you had to cum first."

~*~

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Thanks for reading! Please let me know what your favorite part was!

[tiramiiswu]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ indomitable

⋆⭒˚. invincible x green lantern!reader ⭒˚.⋆

✦ masterlist || next ✦ imagine: local delinquent girl acts as the one and only green lantern of earth and who just so happens to have a distinct disdain for a certain half-viltrumite she has the displeasure of meeting ✦ pairings: mark grayson x reader ✦ warnings: n/a ✦ a/n: reader is a sort of magical girl inspired green lantern in the sense that i keep picturing her hero costume to be reminiscent of the pretty guardian sailor moon sailor senshi outfits, specifically sailor jupiter’s since she’s already green. her personality is bit of a mix of makoto kino from pgsm and kyoko sakura from puella magi madoka magica when it comes to inspiration because i love my bastard daughter, but i think it definitely evolved in a way that doesnt really align with that as well anymore ✦ originally this was meant to be longer but im not super used to the like? headcanons bulleted list style of formatting this imagine is in and i tend to like ramble and get off my initial thought so hopefully this cut version is readable enough, i might make multiple parts to this just to get some of my other headcanons out because i did really like some of the extra ones i just didn’t think they fit that well with the main ones (i also just want to write about gl!reader and her beloved punching bag ^^;; )

edit: I FORGOT THE OTHER HALF OF MY DRAFT FUCK.

✦ mark grayson was a fucking loser

✦ that was something you were sure of

✦ he’s some stupid dweeb with a dorky interest like seance dog who’s not even worth looking at over the gum stuck to your shoe

✦ you’ve known him since you were kids, when he was an annoying little boy with a gap in his teeth

✦ your parents trying to set up playdates with him and his family after moving into the neighborhood some time before you developed your powers

✦ before everything went to shit

✦ at twelve you were sought out by the green lantern’s ring, unsure as to why it chose you or how you were considered worthy

✦ maybe it was due to your childish belief that evil could be thwarted by the power of love and justice, like the pretty guardians and magical girls in the boxsets your mother let you read with her and the old vhs tapes you watched sitting in her lap growing up

✦ maybe it was your stubborn resolve when it came to protecting your friends on the schoolyard from snotty little boys who tried to pick on them (you were sent to the principal’s office due to your quick response to slug your tiny little fists at some stupid brat’s mouth enough to be on a first name basis with them, much to your father’s dismay)

✦ whatever it was, you were over the moon with your newfound abilities

✦ through sheer willpower you were able to construct anything your imagination thought of, you could fly, and (most importantly to your 13 year old self) your ring could create any hero costume design to anything your heart desired, complete with a dazzling transformation sequence to boot

✦ at first it was everything you ever wanted, days at school spent wanting to do nothing but go out and fight the forces of evil with your totally awesome magical powers (sort of)

✦ for a while you even wondered when you’d get your own team (all magical girls had a team comprised of their friends to fight off evil, so obviously you would get one eventually, right?)

✦ you spent a lot of time in class doodling what you thought your team would be like, which of your friends were bound to be chosen next and join your side (in the back of your notebook you even had some little doodles of you and some masked phantom thief type character that you could no longer pin who your kid self was thinking of at the time when you stumbled upon your old notebook)

✦ but of course, life wasn’t that simple

✦ you never got that team of magical girls, or other lanterns to come to your aid and help you fight off evil

✦ you didn’t have a moment where a kind older teammate you picked up along the way reassured you and comforted you when your body ached from being thrown around like a rag doll by some super powered freak trying to destroy a city block

✦ no one else was there to help you when your ring faltered and your constructs fell apart because you were just a little girl fighting for love and justice against real monsters, bad guys who wanted to break your bones or worse, ones who couldn’t be magically defeated with a magic tiara or a special transformation power-up

✦ it was you who had to do all of that

✦ it was you who had to choke back tears and lick your wounds just to push all of that fear down into the pits of your stomach and pull yourself back onto your feet to hit the bastard who broke your rib ten times as hard

✦ your constructs were tougher, brighter even, they no longer shattered after one heavy hit against the body of a big bulky target

✦ but it wasn’t your courage making them stronger—

✦ it was the unwavering resolve that you were going to punch and claw your way out of each hell you got into and survive, even if you had to die trying

✦ at some point you quit sticking your neck out for other people

✦ you stop searching for fights to start and to prevent crime before it escalates with regular patrols of the city

✦ you only ever came to the aid of civilians when danger was making itself present in big conflics, it gives you more time to be a regular girl and live your life

✦ by eight grade you had had to switch schools for fighting other students

✦ mark noticed that before your expulsion you seemed to have quit picking fights to protect your friends (friends who gradually started to drift away from you late seventh grade) and now you seemed to just be starting fights out of nowhere

✦ you needed to let off steam from your hero work, taking it out on some annoying boy in class was the closest thing you had to a goon or grunt

✦ he didn’t see you again until late into high school

✦ or, really he didn’t see you until he ran into eve after getting his powers

✦ because you saw him immediately after transferring back to the same school district and getting enrolled in the same high school as him

✦ somehow the world couldn’t be smaller

✦ you saw him the first day of senior year

✦ how could you forget, you punched him in the jaw at your parents’ funeral nearly four years ago

✦ you basically ignored him as much as you could

✦ i mean really he’s the same as he was as all those years ago as a stupid kid— dorky and innocent

✦ it was almost insulting the way he didn’t recognize you at first, but to be fair you gave him the cold shoulder and pushed past him in the halls whenever you could

✦ he often saw you smoking under the bleachers during breaks

✦ you still got into fights sometimes, he’s seen you throw a mean right hook whenever one of the other students were bothering you, so he generally he keeps his distance (still, he found himself looking at you over his shoulder every time he did notice you, something about the bad girl delinquent vibe gave you an allure of some kind)

✦ so now imagine being you, taking a night off for once from beating crooks bloody and waiting for civilians to get into trouble before swooping in to save them (again), loitering around Burger Mart and using your lantern ring to make a lighter to light a cigarette (you left your lighter at home— a nice vivienne westwood that belonged to your mom)

✦ you’re minding your own business when you see a familiar face come out from the back of the restaurant

✦ your brows scrunch up identifying the boy in uniform as your least favorite regular human on the planet as he’s hauling two trash bags over to the dumpster

✦ you groaned at the sight of him and rolled your eyes, going back to lighting your cigarette when you see him fidget with the bags for a moment before fucking chucking one of them into the fucking stratosphere

✦ you just sort of stare at him from where you were sat with wide, furious eyes

✦ because no way this loser gets powers out of fucking nowhere

✦ no fucking way you have been busting your ass for years getting stronger, learning how to suppress your fear and push yourself to be stronger, faster, more durable, everything to survive when you’re doing your rounds as Earth’s only green lantern

✦ and mark fucking grayson gets to throw massive heaps of trash into fucking space like it was nothing

✦ if there was a God somewhere, you were sure he’s laughing right at you

✦ you’re there when mark— sorry, when invincible makes his debut as a hero, during the initial flaxan invasion,

✦ you’re exceptionally more irritated than usual

✦ the others chalked it up to your usual grouchiness, but atom eve (your one and only friend) caught onto your ire rather quickly with just how aggressive you seemed to be that day

✦ when mark approached eve in the halls at school afterwards you didn’t do anything to hide your scowl, appearing behind her like a shadow

✦ it took him a second to notice you and he’s not all to proud to say your sudden arrival made him jump a little

✦ scared for a second that he was talking loud enough for someone to have heard him reveal his identity when he remembers you as one of the heroes who he fought beside during the flaxan invasion

✦ you’re annoyed when eve offers to lend an ear to mark, call it jealousy or just you being territorial of your only friend, but there was no way mark grayson gets one rocky start as a hero and immediately gets to be reassured by someone

✦ he gets his powers without needing to prove anything, he gets support from the get go by another hero like eve as soon as he doubts himself, it made you sick— HE makes you sick

✦ from then there on you just couldn’t shake this guy off you

✦ you ran into him more often at school, or at the store, hell you were getting put on the same assignments by cecil

✦ you’re sick of him

✦ sick of his stupid face and that dorky grin of his

✦ how he’s always checking in on you when you go down during a fight and how his voice sounded a bit softer when he spoke to you

✦ the way he makes your face heat up and made your stomach flip when he looked at you—

✦ oh…

✦ oh hell no.

✦ you needed to hit something and you needed to hit something hard (preferably mark)

✦ you were already pretty standoffish and kind of mean when you had to interact at school, but now?

✦ whenever you’re paired with him for missions half of it is spent barking at him and calling him stupid for not being careful enough

✦ he doesn’t even really know what gets you so heated sometimes but he’s getting better at dodging your punches when you start wailing on him post fight

✦ you hate how much effort you have to put just to keep up with him sometimes

✦ he makes you put in the work when he’s barely breaking a sweat

✦ you want to hit him with your hardest construct sometimes just to see him get skipped like a stone. he’s durable, he’ll live

✦ seeing you in action is something else

✦ your costume hasn’t really changed since you were younger (really the sailor scout uniform was just too good to switch up)

✦ but the duality of the cute bows on your leotard and the short pleated skirt compared to the sight of you slamming a heavy green mallet over some poor supervillain’s head always draws his attention to you

✦ you fight so effortlessly in mark’s eyes, you’re quick on your feet and there’s a unique power behind your punch that make him feel the earth beneath his feet shake when he sees you clock someone in the jaw

✦ you always looked so cool with your stoic, determined expression and he admires how ✦ you seem so put together, you barely stagger between attacks, it’s as if you’re just going through the motions

✦ watching you ring-sling is such a sight to see

✦ you’re so quick to adapt your light constructs he can’t imagine how fast you must be thinking for you to be able to switch as naturally as you do, almost like breathing

✦ he’s seen you combo your ring-sling constructs with your raw strength, hitting them with a green baseball bat before the same light construct stretched into a tether or a lasso to yank them back into your ring bearing fist— which by then had some brass knuckle or gauntlet wrapped around it to bust up their jaw

✦ you do surprisingly well at keeping up with him, you’re nowhere near as fast or durable as he is after he starts getting deeper and deeper into being invincible, but your willpower wasn’t something to laugh at

✦ he admired your courage and strength, even if he was at the end of some of those punches

✦ the two of you were such a strange pair

✦ both of you seemed oblivious to the way you looked at each other

✦ maybe it was the goggles on his costume but mark never seemed to realize that the scowl on your face wasn’t the same as your usual resting face (though he found the scrunch of your nose and the furrowing of your brows very cute)

✦ and you (despite your observational skills and general common sense) couldn’t tell that the sheepish puppy dog look on his face when he talked to you wasn’t just how his stupid face looked

✦ you also didn’t seem to realize that thinking about him as consistently as you did wasn’t something you’re supposed to do about someone you claimed to despise

✦ eve is at her wits end with you guys, especially since she was most often the one left to mediate between the two of you

✦ rex tried to do that once, but seeing as you were strongly aligned with eve and hold grudges longer than anyone else you still weren’t giving him any civilized response that didn’t involve chucking him into a lamppost ever since eve confided to you about him cheating

✦ also he used your spare lighter as ammunition once and he was still feeling the pain in his arm from when you broke his wrist after that

[kannady]

do you remember me too?

pairing: sylus x mc reader

synopsis: love and deepspace was a newfound obsession of yours. you installed the game shortly after sylus was released as a love interest. it'd be safe to say he was the reason you installed the app. however, finals week was approaching and you had to say goodbye to your favourite game. not for long, ofcourse. but you decide to login for the last time to check the new event.

word count: 1.5k

a/n: hey everyone! im going to get busy in a couple days so updates might be slow, but ill try my best. not much, its a pretty simple chapter. lemme know what you think!

check out all chapters here

Chapter Seven

"Of course, but I need to make sure he senses the urgency of my situation."

Nodding to herself, your sister started clearing the mess, picking up the scattered markers and loose pages, while you sat down and waited. You weren’t expecting him to come running that very instant. It was late, after all. But you were getting anxious now. Had you been too harsh? Too rude to someone you technically didn’t know?

You were still unsure about your next move or anything that you had done up until now. Sure, you’d get to meet five of your most favorite men, but you couldn’t shrug off the feeling that things were only going to get worse for you now. You tried to stay optimistic, but it was almost impossible considering there was an enemy lurking nearby.

Sighing to yourself, you got up, bid your sister goodbye, and went up to bed. Lying down, you couldn’t help but mentally go through everything that had happened that day. You could confidently say it was the most festive and hectic, yet the best day of your life.

You were in the Love & Deepspace universe! You got to meet Zayne, Caleb was your best friend, Xavier was your neighbor, and Sylus was presumably keeping an eye on you. You were yet to meet Rafayel, but you were just as excited for him.

Contrary to what you’d assumed, you fell asleep just as you went to bed. Now that the initial excitement had worn off, you were suddenly exhausted. You didn’t know exactly when you fell asleep, but you woke up more refreshed than ever. It felt like one of those days where you didn’t have anything to do. No classes, no exams, no chores. Just a day to do anything you liked.

After washing up, you decided to change since you’d fallen asleep in the same clothes. The closet was pretty basic, nothing too unique. After all, you weren’t a Hunter yet.

Your eye caught a black hoodie folded neatly in one corner. It had a distinct smell to it. Lavender, jasmine, and a hint of vanilla. It was perfect.

"She actually has great taste in colognes."

You paired the hoodie with baggy jeans and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Seeing everyone seated at the table, it looked just like any other day. Your father was reading the paper, your sister was scrolling on her phone, and your mother was flipping pancakes. Perhaps she heard your steps. Without turning toward you, she asked, "Two for you, as usual?"

"Yep!"

You slipped into the chair next to your sister’s. She looked at you with a smile, but it died down as soon as she saw the hoodie. Instead, it was replaced with a mischievous smirk.

"Someone’s missing Caleb today." You turned toward your father, who was eyeing you from above his glasses. Smiling, he turned his attention back to the paper. You cluelessly glanced at your sister, who whispered, "That’s Caleb’s hoodie."

"Oh."

After breakfast, you helped your mom carry the dishes to the kitchen. "So, how’s the exam prep going?"

What exam? You had no idea, and it wouldn’t be wise to ask.

"It’s great. I’m probably gonna revise most of the day." After sorting out the dishes, you hastily went up to your sister.

"What exam was I preparing for again?"

"The Hunter’s Association licensure exam."

"And when is it?"

"May 14th."

Today was April 13th. You had one month. One month to prepare for something you had no idea about. What even was in that exam? Thinking about it was making you more anxious. How exactly were you going to do this?

Thankfully, your study desk had the answer. Placed neatly on shelves were books about Wanderers and Protocores, past exam questions, model papers, and then heaps and heaps of notes. The more you looked at it, the more frustrated you got, and the more you wanted to cry. It was hopeless. Maybe you could give the exam next year?

Sighing, you grabbed a random book and started going through its pages until a certain illustration caught your eye. It was a Wanderer with blue wings, a purplish tail, and a sleek black body. It almost looked like a dragon. Tracing your finger over the text, you read, "Polar Wyrm."

On the next page was the illustration of a similar Wanderer, only red and orange. "Ignis Wyrm."

Intrigued, you started going through the pages. Each Wanderer looked familiar. "Oh my god, I remember fighting these!" You excitedly squealed as you grabbed another book. "Protocores are unique substances dropped by Wanderers after they are defeated. They can be—I know what a Protocore is!"

You were on cloud nine. How could you forget? You had played the game. You knew what Wanderers were, how to defeat them, and the ideal weapons for each. Taking a deep breath, you carried all the material to the bed and went through every single page. Most of the stuff you already knew. And the rest? You could do the rest in one month.

And so days went by while you were merged in books. Life had gotten too boring. It felt normal now. The only abnormal thing was perhaps learning about Wanderers. Due to your hectic schedule, you’d almost forgotten about Sylus. He hadn’t replied back. You didn’t come across the twins again, nor did you see Mephisto following you around. You weren’t even sure if he’d gotten your message. Although the exam kept you busy most of the time, you still felt uneasy in this new environment. You were tempted to go into the N109 Zone yourself, but you weren’t that stupid. You’d get killed in an instant considering how you hadn’t had any physical training yet.

A month had gone by. You’d given the exam. It was easy. Of course, you studied for it, but you’d had a different way of knowing everything. Even so, it all worked out. A week later, the results were announced, and you passed. Your parents threw a small celebratory party in your honor. As guests arrived, you lingered by the door, thanking each one.

But your real reason for standing there was waiting. Waiting for Sylus, Mephisto, even a black feather would have been enough at that point. You just couldn’t understand. Why follow you around if he wasn’t going to respond? Actually, why follow you in the first place?

"He’s not going to come, honey. And you know that."

You turned to see your mother standing beside you, looking out into the darkness. Then, she turned to look at you, and you could see the worry etched on her face.

"Who?"

"Caleb. You know the academy keeps him busy."

You almost spit out the tea you were sipping. Why would she think you were waiting for Caleb? Was it because of the hoodie? You had worn it again. It was soft and smelled incredible. You had to give him that. But that was it.

"I wasn’t waiting for him. At all." You tried to sound as convincing as you could. Even though you weren’t lying, you had a feeling she wouldn’t believe that. And you were right.

"Ah, young love! Just you see. You’d be the first one he visits as soon as he gets back from Skyhaven." Smiling to herself, she made her way back to the guests while you stood there, processing what had happened.

Once all the expected guests had arrived and it was clear he wasn’t coming, you closed the door and retreated to the living room. The party was typical. Relatives quizzing you about the exam, comparing scores, then veering into politics. The moment the conversation shifted away from your academics, you seized the chance to escape. Too boring. Or maybe you were just too young for it.

Ting! Ting!

Your phone vibrated. It was a low battery notification. So, you headed upstairs to plug in the phone and touch up your makeup. As soon as you entered your room, you were met with a cool, light breeze on your face. The window was open, and the curtains were rustling. You could swear you’d closed it.

Shrugging, you plugged in your phone and sat at the vanity. As you were reapplying your lip gloss, your gaze fell upon a box on your bed. Confused, you turned around and spotted a black gift box tied with a red ribbon. There was no question about who sent it. You knew. But why did he send you a gift? Was it a congratulatory gift?

Slowly, you crept toward the bed and picked up the box. It was heavier than you’d imagined. You couldn’t even attempt to guess what it was. It was too heavy and big to be his credit card, not big enough to be a bouquet, and definitely not some letter.

Slowly, you untied the ribbon. Taking one last deep breath, you took the lid off. Inside the box, nestled in black velvet, lay a pistol. Pristine, almost glowing under the dim light. Its steel was mirror-bright, untouched by fingerprints. The grip felt strangely warm against your skin, like it had been held moments before. There were no scratches on it, whatsoever.

Lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist!

tags: @zenbutnotreally, @godoffuckedupcats, @noxus123, @madam8, @agustdxjiminx, @liz9898, @lemonn015, @tearydamsel, @diegojeanne, @alyssac9, @dummiebunny, @acesgarden, @bigclownshoes, @sylusgirlie7, @roseyjean, @poptrim, @pillarofsnow, @rxelarailuj, @brekkers-whore, @one17, @cchiiwinkle, @babyx91, @mourning-into-dancing, @yuhuahuaaa, @stxrrielle, @tapiokay, @glassandhoney, @animelover18, @paper--angel, @plzdonutpercieveme, @coffeedragonhobbyist, @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme, @harbingers-lullaby, @sleepykittyenergy, @syluslovesicker, @solmanel1

[mother-of-houseplants-2]

incredible tags by @cherry-treelane oh my GOD

father // the front bottoms

[sereia4skz]

Oh my goodness, I have to update you on my latest encounter with Felix! I know, I know, you warned me about staying with them, but in my defense, I thought my crush on Felix had gone away!

Turns out I was wrong. And I think he might like me too😳 i got up to get a glass of water in the kitchen one night & as I walked back to my room, which neighbor's Felix's, i heard a distinct purring and moaning coming from his room. Ignored it the first time, thinking nothing of it, despite the fact that I could hear it through the wall.

The next night, im getting out of the shower, exiting the bathroom in my robe, when I hear it again, the purring, moaning and then my name!!! His friends occasionally tease us with how affectionate we are with each other, but i never thought i'd creek open the door to see him pleasuring himself with my name falling from his lips.

I couldn't help but watch and listen! Ugh I'm a freak. He didn't see me, so i thought, but the night after that, he confronts me about it!! 😮 asking me if I liked the show he put on for me, and asked if I wanted to 'play' with him! Can you believe that? I did have a good time, though..

I'll update you more as I continue to stay with the boys. All my love - Dovie💜

1k Followers Event | love as old as time

pairing: kitten!Felix x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: wax play, light voyeurism. light sub!felix, unprotected sex

event masterlist: #1kShootingStars

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

Hey Dovie~

I called it! Called it years ago when we were still in school. 

Been knew! I'm glad you did do something about it… And I want to hear EVERYTHING. Don't make me fly out there myself

Kisses, Reia

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

The scent of him clings to you the next morning. Even after tossing and turning in your sheets, it lingers, his warmth and musk. You swear it’s in your robe, on your skin, soaked into the air between your door and his. 

You shouldn’t have watched. You’ve repeated it to yourself a dozen times since last night. Since you passed his door and heard it again, purring, soft and desperate, and your name on the tip of his tongue. It was instinct, really. Just a small creak of the door, just a peek.

Felix sprawled out on his bed, tail twitching, hand between his thighs, head tipped back with your name falling off his tongue like a prayer. Panting, wrecked, beautiful, and all for you. You hadn’t meant to linger, but you did and now you couldn't think of anything else.

The apartment’s quiet when you make your way to the kitchen. Your robe is cinched tight at the waist, and you pretend you don’t feel like a live wire under it. But when you round the corner and see Felix perched at the island, smiling softly into his cereal, your stomach twists. A feeling of dread, one you'd never associated with your sweet sweet childhood friend before, overtakes you.

“Sleep okay, sugar?” he asks, voice light and smug.

Your heartbeat stutters. “Fine,” you manage.

He hums into his spoon. “You looked a little... flushed this morning.”

You nearly drop your mug, but he doesn’t press, doesn’t even look at you again. Just lets the comment hang in the air like the tension hasn’t already wrapped tight around your lungs.

You try to make it to your room that night. But Felix is already leaning against your door, shirt loose, curls damp, ears perked. And a look in his eyes, one you'd only seen fleetingly before.

“Bathroom again?” he asks.

You blink. “What?”

He steps closer, enough that you feel his heat. “Or maybe you were gonna peek again.”

Your breath catches. “I don’t know what you’re-”

Felix leans in, nose brushing your jaw, voice a low purr in your ear. “You watched me, didn’t you, sugar?”

Your throat dries. 

“You think I didn’t smell you?” he murmurs. “Didn’t hear your heart pounding from the hallway?” He’s toying with you now, eyes glinting, tail swaying slowly behind him. “I did it for you. Wanted you to see. I’ve been thinking about you for years.”

Those words ignite something in you, your fingers hook in his collar and you pull him into your room. Felix gasps, a soft, stunned little noise that tells you exactly what he wants without needing words. His tail jolts. His pupils are blown wide.

“Oh, kitten,” you breathe, thumb dragging over the leather. “You’ve been that needy this whole time? How long? Since you moved? Since school?" 

He whimpers.

“Even before that? All those nights touching yourself, crying out for me?”

His lashes flutter. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Use me. Anything.”

You hum, tracing the curve of his jaw. “Then get on the bed.”

He obeys without hesitation. Laid out for you, shorts tented, chest rising in uneven gasps. You straddle his thighs. 

"Say Felix.. Still into that thing you told me when we played 'truth or dare', at Sereia's house?"

The whine that leaves his lips sounds so yummy and broken. You smile at the confirmation hurrying to your bag to grab something from your play time bag. Pulling out a little red candle, making quick work of lighting it, watching it melt, he hurries out of his clothes tossing them half-absentmindedly.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much,” you murmur.

Felix nods eagerly. “Please, sugar. I want it.”

The first drop of wax lands on his chest, and the sound he makes is sinful. Another drop hits his hip. One trails down his inner thigh. He moans, hips twitching, the grasp he has on the sheets tightening as he squirms.

“Desperate already,” you murmur. “I haven’t even touched your cock.”

He bites his lip, trembling.

“I should’ve known you’d love this,” you go on. “Pretty little kitten, purring for pain. Melting just from being looked at.”

“Sugar-”

“You wanted me to see you, didn’t you?” you whisper, dragging your nails across his stomach. “Moaning my name like a slut. Putting on a show. What if your hyungs had seen you? Or the maknaes?”

“I needed you to,” he gasps. “I- fuck- please, let me prove it. I can be good. I wanna be inside you.”

You tilt your head.

“So desperate to fuck me now?”

“I’ll be better than that,” he pants. “I swear. I’ll show you how much I want you.”

You blow out the candle, slipping off him and letting him hover over you. When he pushes into you, it’s like the air’s been knocked from his lungs. He sinks slowly, thick and hot, his hands gripping your waist like you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold. His forehead presses to yours, tail twitching erratically, voice breaking with every inch.

“Oh my god- so warm-”

You wrap your arms around him, rocking your hips up into his.

“This what you thought about, kitten?” you murmur. “My pussy squeezing you like this while you moaned into your pillow?”

He whines, hips jerking forward.

“Yes. Yes, sweets, every fucking night-”

You kiss him, soft against his lips. “Then don’t hold back.”

Felix fucks you like he’s trying to leave a mark on your soul. Sloppy, eager thrusts that grow more frantic with each moan you spill into his mouth. His nails dig into your hips, his tail wraps around your thigh, and his voice is all broken pleas and devotion.

“Wanna make you feel good- wanna fill you up- wanna belong to you-”

“You do,” you whisper, holding his face. “You always have.”

He chokes out a sob.

“Cum for me,” you command. “Show me you mean it.”

His rhythm falters. His whole body shudders as he drives into you one last time, crying your name as he spills deep inside you, shaking like he’s unraveling.The face he makes is enough to have you soaking him as his movements slow.

Later, he’s curled up against your chest, soft and heavy, purring so loudly you feel it in your ribs. You pet his hair slowly, still catching your breath.

“Mine now?” he asks, voice small.

You pull the blanket over both of you, kiss the crown of his head. “Since longer than you can imagine”

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[milatiny-xx]

once upon a dream | j.yh

pairing: jeong yunho x fem!reader summary: when yunho finds you curled up on the couch after a nightmare, he holds you close to comfort you. you like being in his arms, but you need more. tags: classic nightmare trope, images of being trapped in a prison cell (it's just the nightmare but still), mild hurt/comfort | 18+ MDNI — lead up to smut (no smut yet but if anyone's gonna get it yunho probably will first lol), dry humping, praise, teasing wc: 3.0k a/n: i blushed writing this. also NOTHING in this world is as satisfying as finding a random aesthetic pic on pinterest that ACTUALLY RESEMBLES one of the members (cuddling pic above). i also discovered this while i was looking and why does it genuinely look like him im screaming???? x

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

You gasp, eyes blinking rapidly. Confused and dazed, you sit up in bed. You run a hand over your face. Your heart is pounding in your chest, aching as if you've been running for hours. As you try to remember where you are and remind yourself that you're perfectly safe, tears brim in your eyes.

You glance down next to you and see Yunho still fast asleep. He looks so peaceful and sweet—round cheeks squished into the pillow, lips slightly ajar. The last thing you want to do is wake him up.

Sniffing, you carefully pull the covers back and make your way quietly into the living room. You curl up on the couch, tucking your knees in toward your chest. Even though you're far enough away from Yunho that he probably won't hear you, you bury your head into your knees.

And then you cry.

It's been a while since you had a nightmare like this. Everything felt so real. You could still remember the panic in your chest when your mind made you see yourself caged inside of a metal prison. You yanked on the iron bars, screamed for help, thrashed against the walls but nothing helped. You were trapped in a dingey, dark place with no light but plenty of terrible sounds. Screams and shouting and crying seemed to come from all around you, but you could never figure out what was making all those noises.

And the worst part you remember so vividly: somehow knowing that no one knew you were trapped there. They couldn't find you and weren't coming to save you.

Your fingertips dig into your knees, and you rock back and forth as you try to catch your breath.

You know you're safe, you know you're loved, you know you're-

"Princess?"

Yunho's deep, smooth voice draws a gasp from your chest. Your head snaps up, angling toward his silhouette in the hallway. You go silent, hoping maybe he would be too tired to deal with you and just go back to sleep. Unsurprisingly, he reaches for the lamp instead. You drop your head back between your arms just before the warm, soft light floods the room.

"Ah, jagiya, what are you doing in here?"

You don't respond, squeezing your eyes tighter instead. A few seconds later, you hear the distinctive sound of his feet padding across the floor toward you.

"Jagiya..." he whines in a sing-song voice. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, I'm okay, Yuyu. Just go back to bed, please."

The couch dips under his weight as he sits down next to you. A shiver ricochets through your spine as his palm smooths over your back. His other hand wraps gently around your arm, and he tries to pull it away from your face. You groan, flexing to keep him from succeeding.

"What's wrong? Let me see."

He tries again, but you hold firmly. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. The next time, he maneuvers both of his hands around your wrists and forces you to open up. At first, you fight him but give up easily. You know he won't let you alone until you answer his questions. Once uncovered, he slides a knuckle under your chin and tilts your face up toward him.

You sniff, feeling another wave of tears coming on. Your ears and cheeks feel hot with embarrassment—you hate having him see you cry over something that's not even real. But his eyes soften when they land on you. He grimaces, eyebrows pushing together.

"I thought I heard you crying," he mutters, cupping your cheeks with both hands and brushing his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the stream of drying tears there. "What's wrong, jagi? Did I do something?"

"No," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "No, you didn't do anything. I just...it's stupid, but I had a nightmare."

"Ah, okay. That's okay. Everyone has nightmares sometimes. You wanna tell me about it?"

You stare up at him, your lips quivering in their frown. His eyes look so pretty, deep brown and sparkling even in the dim light of the lamp. His gaze is trained on your forehead, focused as he brushes your messy hair back into place.

Yes, of course you want to tell him about it. But you really don't want to cry while doing it.

"I-I don't know if I can right now," you stutter and sniff as a fresh round of tears slip down your cheeks.

He nods, his stare meeting yours. He swivels on the couch so that he's sitting cross-legged facing you. He gently tugs at your arm, encouraging you to do the same. You obediently shift, scooting forward so that your knees are touching. He takes your hands in his, his thumb running back and forth over your knuckles.

"Then don't tell me now. You tell me when you're ready. But..." he pushes your hands upright and threads his fingers through yours, "I can't have my baby crying. So, what can I do now to help?"

You smile at his sweetness. He returns the gesture with a silly grin. (a/n: he's so precious send help) He reaches up to brush away your tears once again.

"Um...I'm not sure. My chest hurts, and I still feel anxious. Maybe just something to distract me?"

"Distract you? Okay, let's see..." His finger absentmindedly taps against the back of your hand as he thinks. "Ah, how about this—why don't we make up a good dream so that you can forget about the bad one?"

"Make up a good dream? What do you mean?"

"I'll show you. Close your eyes."

You quirk an eyebrow, unconvinced. He chuckles, holding up his hand in front of your eyes and waving it.

"Close! I'll do it with you." Giggling, you follow his direction. "Now, the first step to making a dream is that we have to go somewhere pretty. Where do you want to go?"

"Uhhh...the beach?"

"Okay, we're at the beach. We're sitting on the sand. The sun is shining and it's warm outside—but it's not too hot—it's just right. The water is blue and sparkling. What do you hear?"

"Seagulls...waves...maybe the wind blowing through the trees."

"Mhm," he hums in approval. "Good. What else do you notice?"

"You're sitting right next to me with your arm around my shoulder. And I'm drawing shapes in the sand."

"Nice, very nice." You can practically hear the smile in his voice. "Now I want you to imagine something really special happening. Don't tell me what it is, just imagine it. It's your dream. Anything can happen—whatever you want, jagi."

You breathe deeply, in and out, as you let your imagination take over. Surprised by how creative your subconscious is, you feel heat creeping over your face at what you're seeing. Suffice it to say, there are lots of limbs and very little clothing.

Invested in your selfish fantasy, you jump a little at the unexpected feeling of Yunho's finger gently tapping the tip of your nose.

"Open." You force your eyes apart. Yunho gazes back at you softly. "There, see. No more crying tonight."

You give him a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Yuyu. You're too good to me."

He shakes his head, waving dismissively.

"Nothing is too good for my baby girl. Come here and let me hold you."

You crawl onto his lap, wrapping around him like a koala and burying your head in the crook of his neck. He winds his arms around your back to hold you tightly against him. One of his hands slides onto the back of your head. He rhythmically runs his touch back and forth across your hair. You close your eyes for just a moment, comfortable in his embrace.

"There you go," he says quietly. "Feel better?"

"Mostly."

"Mostly? Well, that's not good enough. What else can I do for you, princess?"

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking.

Then, straightening your head, you meet his gaze. His eyes widen expectantly. You smile, biting your tongue as you gingerly run your finger across the adorable morning blush on Yunho's cheeks. He always gets it when he first wakes up.

You touch trails down, working its way to his lips. He watches you with interest, his eyelashes fluttering as he studies your face. Adoringly, you brush your finger over his mouth.

He purses his lips, kissing the tip of your digit, and you giggle. He laughs, too, the sound a welcome vibration against your fingertip. You tap his lip twice, and then move your hand to tap your own mouth.

He angles his head, giving you that look that he always does right before he comes in for a kiss—chin pointing up, slight smile playing at his lips, slightly narrowed eyes. Carefully lowering your face, you meet him in the middle to press your lips sweetly against his. He kisses you back, matching your pressure.

You pull back, not really paying attention to the way your fingers are playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He stares up at you, and his eyes shifting from side to side. He clears his throat and sticks his lips out, asking for another kiss. You giggle and move forward again.

Though you go in with chaste intentions, Yunho has other plans this time. His grip on the back of your head tightens to pull you in deeper. He kisses you slowly as your fingers slide up into his hair. The hand on your spine drops and curves around your lower back.

In response to his touches, you start to kiss him more feverishly, opening your mouth wider. His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt—by accident or on purpose, you don't know. Either way, you sigh at the sensation of his touch on your bare skin.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, gently tugging on it. You don't mean to, but your body responds automatically to his sudden aggression. You gasp, legs clenching around his waist. His head jerks back an inch. His hold on your body tightens. You stare down at him in surprise, frozen and not sure what he's thinking.

You've only been dating for a couple of months, and you've both agreed to take it slow. You care about each other too much to mess this up. So, even though you've spent plenty of nights wrapped in his arms and plenty others kissing each other, you haven't actually gotten the chance to do much more. Of course, you've thought about it. A hundred times. You've imagined it a hundred more times and always wondered when the right moment would come up to initiate it.

Deciding this is as good a time as any, you grasp at his shirt. With a fistful of fabric, you pull his mouth back to yours. He grunts quietly as his face crashes against you. But he doesn't hesitate to give you what you want. He kisses you hard and fast, saliva stringing between you.

With your eyes closed, you hardly realize your world is tipping upside down until you feel his weight pressing down on top of you. You sink into the couch.

His tongue darts out to lick across your bottom lip, and you open up for him without question. You can't help but moan quietly into his mouth. Your body feels like it's on fire—every nerve ending vibrating at the same time. Your legs are still wrapped securely around his waist, but he's propping himself up to keep distance between you.

Suddenly frustrated by the lack of contact there, your hands slide down his sides in search of the waistband of his pants. Finding it, you tug at it to try and pull his hips down against you. His mouth slips from yours. Your head instinctively moves forward, searching for him but finding empty air between you.

"Jagi," he gasps. Your eyes flash open. "If I start...I-I don't know if I can stop."

"Don't. Don't stop," you respond, your tone mirroring how frantically you need his touch.

He pulls back, his eyes flicking between yours.

"You want me to keep going?"

"Yes..." you plead, practically begging. "I..."

"What?"

"I..."

He stops, propping himself up on one arm to look at you. His eyebrows are knit in concern, but his big eyes are still cloudy and dark. His plump lips are parted. You're mesmerized by the way they open and close slightly with every breath.

"What is it, baby girl?" he whispers.

You can barely breathe. How can he say such sweet, gentle words when he's looking at you like that?

"This was what I dreamed about, when you asked me to think of something happy. I imagined this. What it would be like, what it would feel like."

"Oh?" he asks, clearly amused. "Just how much did you imagine?"

Heat spreads across your face, burning the tips of your ears.

"Everything," you answer bashfully.

He smiles sweetly, tenderly brushing his fingers across your jaw.

"How am I doing then? Living up to your expectations?"

"Oh, trust me. You're better. So much better."

"Yeah? Just like you imagined? My hands on you like this?"

You shiver as his hand runs up your leg, his thumb brushing along the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

"Yeah..."

"Were they here?"

You nod, frozen under his addictive touch. You wiggle uncomfortably as his thumb draws circles on the skin there. Your stomach is starting to feel tight, that familiar coiling feeling building.

"Where else were they, princess? Show me."

You breathe shakily, reaching for his hand. You guide his touch, placing it flat on your stomach and moving it up your body and onto your breast. He inhales sharply, his hand hovering over top of your chest. You curl your fingers over his, letting him know that it's okay to touch you as much as he wants. His palm curves over your breast, and you sigh at the deliciously sore sensation when he kneads you. His thumb brushes over your nipple. Your head tilts back in pleasure. Yunho takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your jaw, kissing down your neck.

He continues massaging your chest while his tongue and teeth work on your throat. Your fingers tangle in his hair, threading his soft locks through your digits. You moan softly as he bites and sucks on your skin. Your legs tighten around him again, pulling his hips down against yours. A gasp slips from your mouth when you feel him hard against the inside of your thigh. Impatiently, you buck your hips upward. Yunho chuckles against your neck.

"So impatient," he mutters.

Despite his teasing, his hips shift forward. You catch your lip between your teeth, giggling breathily. Yunho moves away from your neck. His eyes are like fire when he looks at you. He smirks, and you whimper. He looks so beautiful like this, hungry and dominant. You need more.

Your hips move upward again to meet his. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. You kiss him harshly, and your tongue explores his mouth while he rocks against you. Your gut churns, that delicious feeling growing in your lower stomach.

"Such a good girl," he mutters against your lips. "So sweet."

You don't know why—if it was his honeyed words or the intensity of his gaze or the leftover anxiety from your nightmare—but your chest suddenly aches terribly. Your face screws up, lips slipping from Yunho's into a frown. You inhale sharply and whimper as if you're about to cry. Before you can cover it up, Yunho notices. He lifts his head, his hips freezing as he examines you.

"Y/N...are you okay?" he asks, seemingly a little panicked at your sudden outburst of emotion.

You sniff, forcing yourself to nod. You blink rapidly and try to push your tears away, but one manages to escape and drips down the side of your face. Yunho clicks his tongue, wiping the tear away with his knuckle.

"I'm okay. I'm okay. Don't stop please."

"Jagi..."

"Yunho, please."

You watch his eyes, gaze drifting between his left and right as you plead with him to keep making you feel like this. But his eyes soften, all of that hungry desire melted from his stare. He shakes his head, sighing.

"No. Not like this," he says. "Not when you're emotional like this. I don't want you to be sad. It'll taint everything."

"N-no, I'm not upset. I won't cry anymore. I can handle it. I swear."

He huffs, pressing his lips together firmly. He leans up, sitting back on his knees. Your legs unlatch from behind his waist, falling limp beside his body. You pout. He reaches forward, sliding his palm onto your cheek. He brushes his thumb across your cheekbone and smiles.

"As much as I love seeing you beg for it," his eyes sparkle as he admits it, "I want our first time together to be special. No tears, okay?"

Your frown deepens, but you reluctantly nod. You know he's right. At the very least, you know your boyfriend well enough to understand that he will not budge one centimeter when he's made up his mind.

"Okay. But soon, Yunho? Promise me."

He nods, clearly satisfied with your answer.

"Soon, jagi. I promise." He carefully untangles himself from your limbs and slides his arms under your body. "Come on, let's get you back to bed. It's late, and I'm tired. Someone woke me up in the middle of the night."

You huff but hook your arms around his neck as he lifts you up. With ease, he carries you into the bedroom bridal style. Your heart flutters at how gently he places you on top. He crouches beside the bed, propping his chin on the mattress. His fingers brush your hair back. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before settling into the bed behind you. He wraps his arms tightly around you, pulling you close to him.

Your eyes droop closed. A wave of exhaustion sweeps over you, Yunho's warmth and sweet smell a welcome comfort. He kisses the top of your head and then tucks you beneath his chin. In a matter of seconds, your breathing has synced with his and sleep is threatening to pull you under. Before you manage to pass out, you hear Yunho's soft whisper.

"Dream of me, princess. I'll dream of you, too. Sleep well."

taglist: @rileylovescats @wooyoungsbrat

[lilahriot]

Phantom Touch

namgyu x f!reader

𖦹 tags: slow burn, angst, toxic relationship, fwb, alcohol, mentions of drugs, situationship, slight smut

𖦹 word count: 1790

𖦹 recommended song! : Love me Not

𖦹 This is part 2 of the headcannons ! Part one | I decided to make it a full story :p namgyu is a little insuffurable in this one + i will post part 3 as soon as im done with it ! tysm for all the support recently

You yawned sluggishly, adjusting your eyes to the surroundings. You were there again. Surrounded by the four walls of salaciousness, you had once promised yourself that you’d never visit ever again. Like a fool, you were once again met with the same pair of impenetrable eyes, staring at you from his disordered desk. You knew he was going to pull the same shit as he always does, making you shout degrading, disgusting remarks in bed as he touches you all over, wetly kissing you from top to bottom the night before, then acts as if he had never even slept in the same bed with you the morning after.

“You’re up,” Namgyu murmurs under his breath, scrolling through his phone as he combs his hair with his long fingers.

“Yep,” a dry response comes out from you as you slowly get up to stand.

Namgyu notices the dull response you gave him. Usually, when you wake up, you try to be as loving and nice as humanly possible to someone who uses you as nothing less than a toy, another collection in his box. He knew that you loved him, he knew the sense of yearn that you get from him when he’s away, and he strangely enjoys it.

As quietly as possible, you scurry to find your clothes from the night before. Once found, you throw Namgyu’s t-shirt off, which still had the smell of cheap musky men’s fragrance mixed with the smell of cigarettes. You hated how he had such a distinctive smell; it wasn’t even that good, but something about it kept you coming back. This time you promised yourself you would not fall victim to that scent again. Never again.

As you get changed, you don’t dare to look his way. Acting as indifferent as he always does. No hopeful glances, no lingering touches. Just quiet sounds of clothes ruffling.

Namgyu sets his eyes on you, pulling them away from his phone.

“You’re quiet today,” he says, his tone not quite caring, but the irritation was obvious. You ignoring him got under his skin.

No response. He was not going to get a response from you. Why bother with the small talk when this was going to be the last time you two talked anyway?

Namgyu’s fingers become agitated, wrapping them around his phone; he doesn’t say anything anymore. He probably expected you to come to him with pleading eyes once again; maybe he wanted to play this game again. But you were done. You were done with being stuck on the same level, never progressing.

“You’re really going to leave, just like that?” He abruptly calls out.

Your brain pauses, causing a whole body to stop; your fingers lingered over the doorknob. You took the last piece of courage left in you, turned the doorknob, and stepped outside, letting the door click shut. Is this what solidarity feels like?

For the first time, you leave without the lingering thought of returning

The breeze outside feels like it’s cutting against your soft, once-touched skin; the breeze doesn’t care whether you get hurt or not, similar to him. You shiver, but not just from the cold, from the dying thought of what once was a stupid romance. Was what you had with him even romance? You felt stupid for falling in love with someone who would never be able to reciprocate that love. You gave everything to him, knowing he wouldn’t give it back. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe you pressured him so much to the point he couldn’t stand you, to the point of no return.

It’s almost pathetic, how these roads leading to your house have become so familiar, you could memorize the cracks in the brick. The one streetlight that flickers no matter the time of day, the same quiet ache that controls your body every time you leave. This time it was different; Namgyu had gotten the signal, loud and clear. You were not going to come back.

Sometimes you would find yourself fantasizing about what you and Namgyu could have. Cute little dates on the beach as you both ran holding hands, with the cool breeze hitting your faces. Cooking together in his tiny kitchen, dying of laughter as he playfully smeared flour on your nose. It was stupid, but you found comfort in imagining such things. It was so indifferent from what you were used to. Lustful touching, as he tells you he loves your body, but never you. You wonder if he ever thought of you as anything but another distraction, nothing but another warm body on his bed.

You got back from your apartment and deliberately plopped yourself onto your bed, sighing. It hadn’t even been an hour since you last saw him and you already had the feeling of loss in the back of your brain. You try and avoid the thought of him, mindlessly scrolling through your phone. It felt like you couldn’t escape him. In your photos, dumb pictures from nights out you took together, high on god knows what. On your instagram, his messages were at the top. No matter how much you tried to ignore the existence of him, he was always there, wondering in the back of your mind. You carelessly chucked your phone to the end of the bed, coving yourself with your sheets.

It had been a week since you decided to cut ties with Namgyu. A whole week of insufferable silence. You practically self-isolated yourself from the rest of the world for a whole week, crying into your pillow and being unable to even get up to eat. Why did you feel so much emotion for a jerk? Was it the scent you craved, you wanted it to control your whole body? Or was it the look on his face when he sees you at the club, while he’s working? Maybe it was the way he treated you the morning after, like a scab that you couldn’t stop picking because for a moment, it gave you a sense of relief.

You had gotten a text from one of your close friends, telling you that she’s forcing you to come out with her tonight, no ifs, nor buts. You knew she wasn’t going to let you rot away in your bed, so you got up and took a long awaited shower, before putting in your makeup. A dark smokey eye look which made your eyes pop and juicy lips which looked practically edible. You looked good. A dark skirt with a black short corset - like top, and a black leather jacket with knee high boots. You tried to put some effort into this outfit, you needed a distraction, some relief.

Grabbing your bag, you put your phone, lipgloss and a pack of cigarettes, you mind wonders over to someone who you once knew, who always stank of cigarettes. You shake it off pushing yourself out the door.

Vibrations of bass drowns the city, so many clubs and bars to visit. You let your friend take the reign and choose where to go. Club Pengagon. Did she do this on purpose? She knows that he works here. You try to wrestle out of your friend’s interlocked arm, but she drags you in, now being surrounded by bodies moving in sync with the stereotypical club music. “Why the fuck did you choose here?” You blurt out.

“Girl… to get over it you have to face it head on.”

What a fucking bitch. She knows what he did to you, but here you are, stuck in the same club he works at, sandwiched in between drunken nobodies. You can only pray that he doesn’t have a shift today. You sit in the opposite corner from the vip rooms, hoping that if he was here, he’d be too busy at the other side of the club.

You watch your friend dance around without a care in the word, you could only dream of being that careless. You needed to be distracted. She comes over to you, saying something about joining her. You sigh as you down the rest of your drink, the liquor slowly burning your throat. “i’ll be there soon.” That was a lie. Dancing in clubs is not your style, but she would definitely forget about it.

'You look like you could use another drink.' A random figure peers over your shoulder. You look over your shoulder to see a man, about 6’3”, nice looking. Great. A good distraction, perfect actually. You give them a friendly smile, signaling them to sit down. He passes you another shot, no clue what it is, nor do you really care. You just need him out of your mind. You eagerly down the shot, clenching your hand in between your thighs, a sigh of relief comes out of your mouth.

You decide to entertain the conversation, if you blankly ignored the man that would be rude right? The man leans in closer to you; and confidently whispers “So.. what’s your name?”

You giggle, “Does it matter?” You notice his hands move over your knees, rubbing them as he stealthily moves his hands up. You bite your lip in slight embarrassment, but it was nice to have someone touch you again. You lean your head into his neck and smile, maybe this was the alcohol signalizing something, but it didn’t really matter, the guy was into it and you had reached the point of no return.

You can feel a pair of eyes on you.

You feel that addicting rush of adrenaline again. You feel that disgusting gawk that made you feel icky but also compulsive gaze. Even through the haze of alcohol and the dim, flashing lights, you felt it- heavy, unwavering, burning into your skin like a phantom touch. It wasn't just a glance; it was possession, quiet but undeniable.

The strangers warm hands traced you legs, moving up to your chest. His warm, alcohol breath surrounded your ears. So much warmth, yet you still felt cold, vulnerable.

Your breath hitched, although it wasn’t because of the random man you met 20 minutes ago, it was the man that felt like a drug, - dangerous, never risk free, addictive and impossible to quit.

Namgyu.

His presence clung to you like smoke, suffocating every muscle in your body. The loud music was drowned away, this feeling was too strong, too intimate.

You shouldn’t care that he is here, it is inevitable right? Plus, you are not dealing with whatever namgyu was anymore. This is a new world for you.

You were supposed to be free, You were supposed to be done with that part of your life.

So why did it feel like your feet only knew how to guide themself in his direction?

I hope this is okay :shy: More interactions w/ namgyu will be next, i wanted this chap to be a build up

[cesussy]

songs(well, mostly lyrics) that remind me of aventurine <3

JAKSJKAJAJA kinda nervous this is my first post on tumbrl so ahahjaus im so in love with aventurine i cant stop thinking about him lately💔 so some of these might sound delusional😭(but i like to think that i understood his character right so.. 😌) ALSO!! i doubt anyone is gonna see this but let me know if you'd like some other character from star rail<3 (or genshin, zzz etc, i have the games i like on my description profile, but you can just ask and if i know the character ill try my best to answer😌)

back to the topic<3(songs down bellow):

Million Dollar Man - Lana Del Rey

"You're screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar man.. so why is my heart broke?" - this song reminds me sm of himmm, the whole idea of a man who is so fascinating but so distant and cold at the same time, like the kind of person you can watch but never get too close

"You've got the world, but baby, at what price?" - i think this fits well with everything he had to endure only to work for the ipc.. you know, like, the idea of an illusion of freedom, he has money and all, but.. is he really, truly, free?:(

Big Spender - Peggy Lee

"The minute you walked in the joint, I could see you were a man of distinction.. A real big spender. Good lookin', so refined.." - ok i really have no explanation for this one, i think it speaks for itself😭

Luxurious - Gwen Stefani

"Working so hard every night and day and now we get the pay back, trying so hard, saving up the paper, now we get to lay back" - this one i feel it more, like, in terms of vibes, the whole sensual vibe, the song having the whole theme of working for money but it still has a rich vibe to it, you know?

Money Power Glory - Lana Del Rey

"I want money, power and glory, I want money and all your power, all your glory" - you'll see a lot of Lana, but I really think he fits with some songs. as for the lyrics, the song itself doesn't fit with his lore totally, but i like the chorus, i think it fits with WHY he likes the idea of having money, back then when he was a slave.. he meant nothing to the world. now that he has it, he is considered powerful.. glorious. i like to think that he understands this mentality, how much, unfortunately, money controls the world

"My life, it comprises of losses and wins and fails and falls" - i think this really works with his luck, how he always emerges victorious even after so many hardships he has to go through

Beneath the Mask - Lyn

"I'm a shapeshifter at Poe's masquerade, hiding both face and mind, all free for you to draw" - it feels a little silly to put a persona song on a star rail post😭 but i feel like beneath the mask works so well with characters that don't show their true self(haha did you get that) to the world, which works so much with the flirty, confident persona(im so funny) aventurine puts on, the "mask" he so created to conceal his feelings

Summertime Sadness - Lana Del Rey

"Think I'll miss you forever.. Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky" - this line doesnt really work with him😭 but it plays in my mind once in a while while thinking of him<3 especially in the (!! spoiler for the 2.1 quest? !! tho i think everyone finished it already) quest where everyone thought he was dead

Numb Little Bug - Em Beihold

"Do you ever get a little bit tired of life? Like you're not really happy, but you don't wanna die? Like you're hanging by a thread, but you gotta survive 'cause you gotta survive.. Like your body's in the room, but you're not really there? Like you have empathy inside, but you don't really care?Like you're fresh out of love, but it's been in the air.. Am I past repair?" - i actually found this song on an edit on tiktok with him and i think it fits so insanely good with him. i recently saw(again, spoilers for 2.2 quest?😭) the messages he sent to the trailblazer after argenti rescued him and i noticed he told the trailblazer something like "but i survived, and im happy about that". i cant tell if he was being sincere or not, but id like to think that he indeed was happy to get the chance to keep going; i like to imagine that aventurine has an interesting view on death, he doesn't fear it and he probably wished more than once he could just vanish, but i think he accepted that he still has a long journey ahead of him

The Death of a Bachelor - Panic! At The Disco

"I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall" "I'm cutting my mind off, feels like my heart is going to burst. Alone at a table for two, and I just wanna be served.." - the first line fits so well with whatever happened with him and acheron and that whole black nihility hole; as for the song itself? the lyrics dont exactly fit, but the whole vibe is so him<3

i also made a playlist with some other songs as well if youd like to check it out(not all fit lyrically, ive added some just for vibes), you can check it out here!! aaand let me know if you have some songs that remind you of him! id be happy to listen to them<3

[c4ttheart]

let the world come to a halt !

mikage reo x gn!reader.

blue lock except the teams they choose for the nel = their unis, reader wears silver rings, the end of the world as a metaphor for falling in love, implied that reader is tipsy but not explicitly stated, i love him so much and im coping, not proofread. 1.1k wc.

mikage reo was clingy when drunk. this was a fact you would have never been aware of, had you not made all the choices you have made till now. it was a whirlwind of milestones and decisions that had led you to this special moment, and somehow, you could not find yourself to regret any of it. you silently thanked your mother for deciding to stay in the uk when she got pregnant, your dad for agreeing and getting you into football. you thanked the boy from the opposite middle school team for fouling you during a match, making you unable to ever play football again. you thanked your mother again, for letting you inherit her stubborn personality, because it made you choose to specialise yourself in helping players physically instead of being one. you thanked the admission officer for letting you into the manshine university as a physical education major. you thanked your professor for assigning you to seishiro nagi. you thanked nagi for letting you play games with him. you thanked the game maker for letting you become close friends with nagi, and you thanked chigiri hyoma for accepting you as nagi’s plus one to his party.

you know mikage reo. everyone does. he’s pretty, and rich, and an exemplary student, and a good football player, and he gets everything he wants. he’s nice too, and friendly, a fact you were not made aware of until now. just looking at him makes something bubble in you, in your left ankle, right where your ligaments tore and your bone fractured. mikage reo is a child who was forced to grow up too fast, a perfectionist constantly in search of his own mistakes. he has a distinct smell from a cologne that screams older, a stance trying to make itself known, and much more. mikage reo is everything you tried to be but better.

the music is a tad too loud but somehow, you can’t really hear it anymore. it’s going through one ear and out the other, heard, but not listened to. the lights are dim, constantly changing from purple to blue to red to pink to purple again, and people move in front of you at a speed you don’t think you can comprehend. everyone is going too fast, but not mikage reo. he’s staying, like a constant in a world full of variables, laid back against the singular couch in chigiri’s house, and looking at you with eyes so wide you could place all your burdens in them but also half lidded due to the alcohol in his veins. you’re laying down too, but you don’t face him. you think if you were to look into his eyes for too long, the world would stop. and for some reason, that doesn’t seem like a good thing.

he’s glued to your side, hair brushing against the nape of your neck, and you can’t help but hitch at the sensation. he laughs a little at that, a laugh that sounds like pebbles grating concrete, but it sounds so much better than the giggles you’ve heard him force out to other people during the night. blood rushes to your cheeks, and he chortles a little more, a little louder this time. god, is everything mikage reo does this beautiful ? you want to look at him, to take in the amethyst in his eyes, to absorb his laughs, to see what type of smile lies on his lips right now but you can’t. you can’t let the world end.

he takes your hand in his then, but he doesn’t hold it- mikage reo was born to outdo mundane things. he fiddles with your fingers, with the rings you’ve delicately placed on them, like it’s the most entertaining activity of his night. you close your eyes, slowly, in what was meant to be a blink. when you open them again due to the unfamiliar sensation of mikage reo twisting your ring upwards, as if to steal it, you miss the way people don’t pass by as quickly as they used to. you notice that he’s trying to take off the purple one, the one you usually wear on your left index. you let him.

he looks back at your face, and so do you. he smiles, that giddy smile that feels so easy it makes you smile too, and he repositions your ring carefully on your left ring finger. you do not notice the implication of it, just how you do not notice the world is slowing down.

you look away, quickly, as to not accidentally make the world stop, and you think he mistakes it for embarrassment because he laughs again. he never stops laughing. « i like your rings » he says.

you swallow. « thanks. » you want to look at him, want to paint every detail on his face into your brain, want to trail his jaw with your fingers, but you don’t. « s’it real silver ? » he asks, his words slightly slurred, like a feeble attempt to keep the conversation going.

you blink owlishly, because this is mikage reo you’re speaking to. he’s beautiful, and rich, and an exemplary student, and a good football player, and he’s so damn pretty and he gets everything he wants and he’s probably not impressed by whatever you’re wearing tonight. so you swallow again (and hope he won’t notice, but of course he does because you’re the only thing he’s looking at), and you say « yeah. » like it is the most obvious thing ever, praying he won’t see how the base of your fingers are tinted green from oxydation.

you can feel him smile besides you, you can feel the way the curves of his mouth curve upward into that wicked and evil grin that demands you to look at him. but you can’t, not when the world will end if you do. but mikage reo is persistent, and he’s clingy, so he lets go of your hand to angle your chin towards him, till your pupils are only staring into his. that’s when you realise that the world stops moving. it has been slowing down ever since you sat down next to mikage reo on this lone couch in the corner of chigiri’s house. it’s stopped now, like frozen in time. except for you and reo. you can still hear the soft breaths that come from his chest, and you can still feel your left ring finger, the one with the ring he replaced. and somehow, you don’t mind the world ending when it’s this still and quiet.

moral of the story: its ok to throw away your morals and let the planet blow up and die if it’s for mikage reo 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

[licncourt]

hi, love ur blog, & sorry if youve answered smth similar before! Im on tobt but im still thinking about qotd and im a little confused with akashas rationale of taking lestat on the basis of him being the quintessential man, bc he’s clearly not, right? To me, his masculinity is less authentic expression and more coming from a want to be good where goodness has always been within the context of his gender, so fulfilling/performing that role is doing good and consequentially he finds joy in it as he does in everything.

It threw me off when david in his youth trophy hunted a tiger and lestat thinks oh yes youre a hunter Just Like Me. When the context of lestats hunting is protecting villagers using the animals and weapons gifted to him by his emotionally absent mom who shows affection specifically when he acts as the man she can’t be. I think theres a distinction between lestat’s natural masculinity and the more harmful and restrictive ideas projected onto him by gabrielle, magnus, marius & akasha, the problems in iwtv in part from beliefs he retained from them- since qotd and tobt is lestats pov it makes sense he agrees with akasha but like, knowing roughly of his trajectory to PL, is her assessment supposed to be... accurate? (that’s why she can’t subordinate him into following her)

I completely understand the confusion, and I do think QotD is when some of the wires start to get crossed in Anne’s brain. I usually like to try and create a reading of everything that exists without just chalking things up to authorial brain worms, but the handling of Akasha’s character is a challenge. She’s very much a strawman feminist caricature for Anne Rice who notoriously and vocally did not like women very much, but there was nothing she liked more than Lestat, so I think those two things collided in an unfortunate way.

I’ve always enjoyed the concept of Akasha, but the execution of her as a character leaves something to be desired. I have a post about that in my meta master list (linked in pinned post!) if you’re curious, but in general I have a hard time reconciling Akasha’s storyline with a consistent narrative. I think she saw Lestat as the ideal man because Anne saw him that way, not because he was actually embodying ideal masculinity in any way. This feels like a genuine artifact of Anne bs to me, but I’m also very open to hearing from anyone who feels differently! I would love to hear a solid take on this without the context of what we know about the author.

Especially with the knowledge of where things are headed, you can kind of see where the new Lestat characterization starts slipping in, or at least Anne’s new perspective on him. I agree with your explanation of how Lestat relates to masculinity, it’s very much a role for him and a means to his goodness, but I think it’s a double edged sword. It doesn’t come very naturally to him, so when he “gets it right” he seems to really ride that high, but when he doesn’t, it affects him deeply. I do think, for the sake of his own coping, he would try to relate himself and his situation to someone like David, a person who has always been in control and the aggressor in his interactions (hunting and also sexually). I could also see this playing into his reasoning for turning David against his will, the idea of conquering the conqueror giving Lestat a feeling of power in a situation he himself was once powerless in.

I feel like a lot of Lestat’s approach to masculinity was modeled off the Marquis in particular and how he was able to use brute force and violence to keep his family bound to him. That’s certainly what we see Lestat do with Louis and Claudia, but he’s as unsuccessful as his father was. There are masculine qualities Lestat does embody naturally that are more positive, but so much of it was twisted by his upbringing and forced upon him in traumatic situations that it would be incredibly difficult for him to tap into it in a healthy way. He definitely can’t in PL, but that’s largely AR’s fault, even though the cartoonish masculinity IS something I can see him attempting. He just wouldn’t be good at it as we’re supposed to believe he is in the PL trilogy.