#…well not like complaining will do anything hopefully it just doesn’t turn messed up is all I ask for

[yourlocalgrass]

Listen. Listen. Hear me out ok.

I LOVEEE Thirteen, Mephisto and Raphael ok, I would die to date any of them.

But the thought of them becoming dateable, as much as I want to date them… not so much, honestly… gives me constant anxiety, like… big time.

I mean the devs couldn’t even handle the SEVEN main love interests in S1 or S2. I mean cmon who doesn’t know how Asmo and Beel were the devs obvious least favourite. There are times where all the brothers get a kiss except Beel or Asmo.

And then when 4 more characters entered the intimacy system, they handled them really good actually, amazing even. S3 was great imo, for the new dateables that was. But again, half of the brothers were forgotten to be love interests. But, they did do the new dateables good.

But then, by S4 they all literally reverted back to being side characters again and not dateables from what I could see.

Diavolo seemed the exact same as he was in S1 and S2 except maybe in one romantic scene with him. Solomon was only playing the role of a teacher and almost nothing more. If you played S4 without S3 context, you wouldn’t have even guessed that they were a dateable. Same goes for Simeon (even though almost the entirety of S4 was centred around him) Barbatos just became a more romantic dateable so, we did get one kiss by the end but… felt really rushed.

And don’t forget before we had the spotlight events how bad, cliche and repetitive the events were? Because we had to make sure we kissed all of them (except luke ofc) so an entire event chapter was dedicated to making sure we spend time and kiss all of them. And then even then there were characters who weren’t kissed or got fair time and treatment.

Finally, in Nightbringer, during S1 Solomon had a lot of spotlight for once and some Diavolo, while Simeon didn’t even exist. When it came to S2, we got Simeon spotlight but Solomon and Diavolo just went -poof- and vanished just like that.

Don’t forget that every near to end of a season, we kiss all the dateables right? And for some very weird reason, we kissed every character, but you know who we didn’t? Diavolo. And what’s even more weird is that, there was no reason not to because we’ve already kissed him previously, and the scene was in perfect timing for an MC option to kiss him, we talked to him, but just didn’t… kiss him? It’s just so… confusing.

Oh right, don’t forget how the brothers went through their special arc or whatever you’d like to name it, with MC who’s helped the brothers through and through of course, so we get to kiss them each at the end, except you know which brothers didn’t? Asmo and Beel. That’s right. Even in Nightbringer the devs never changed. Well, actually, they got even worse. You know who else didn’t get a kiss? Belphie, who we know isn’t the fandoms favourite brother, so of course… no kiss either… that’s now another brother who the devs are starting leaving to the side.

So, the entire game is a current mess and if Solmare couldn’t handle 7 love interests properly, and added 4 to the mix, which upturned everything into chaos, adding another 3 into the dateables section… is it reeaaalllllyyy a good idea? I mean to let the devs handle them…

Again it’s not like I don’t want them to be dateable but just like… how are they going to handle it? You know… considering they actually can’t handle it?

There will have to be more romance in the story, or people would complain, they’d have to fit 15 characters in, and they can’t make the lessons short, which they already do, there’s a chance we’ll get to kiss some while others won’t even get screen time, Thirteen, Raphael, and Mephisto can’t be set to the side during events either otherwise there would be complaints, and there’s no way writers won’t get tired of writing Devilgrams for 15 characters so other characters will be bad, while others who always get the top will have a decent Devilgram story. I bet the writing for almost everything will go into mess…

And that’s my only problem cus I love them and I do want them to become dateable but I also want the game content to be good even though it’s… not… really. Ok ngl it’s already a mess. And that’s just something I feel very anxious about when thinking what’s gonna happen when there are more dateables…

[indybob]

I’m bored on a Saturday night so here’s a random snippet from chapter 3 of “Maybe We Were Always Meant To Be” with Mav being a Dad™️ and helping Bradley with his massive crush on Jake!!

As Maverick finishes a story, Jake drains the last of his beer, “Either of you want me to grab y’all another drink?”

“Would you mind setting a water bottle on the table for me?” Maverick asks.

“Sure thing,” Jake says, walking back toward the hangar.

“Will you grab one for me, too?” Bradley calls after him.

“You got it, darlin’.” Jake’s voice slips back into that slight Southern accent as he uses the pet name.

Bradley blushes then turns back to Maverick, who raises his eyebrows knowingly before returning his attention to the grill.

“Shut up,” Bradley mutters.

Maverick raises his hands, defensively, “I didn’t say a thing.”

“You didn’t have to. The look said it all.”

Maverick sighs in exasperation, slumping his shoulders and giving his attention to Bradley. “So, you like Jake—big deal. He clearly likes you, too.”

“Mav,” Bradley pleads.

“Bradley,” Maverick mimics.

Bradley scoffs, “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?” Maverick asks, sincerely. “Lay it out, kiddo. It’s just me and you.”

“This whole thing with me and Jake just isn’t as simple as you make it out to be,” Bradley complains.

“Well, why not? Help me understand, Baby Goose.”

Bradley blows out a deep breath, deciding the only thing he can do is tell Maverick the truth, “I’m in love with him, Mav.”

Maverick simply smiles, “I knew it.”

Bradley groans in frustration, “Is it that obvious?”

Maverick chuckles, “To me, and probably anybody who’s not you or Jake, yes. But you two are both locked in your own little world of obliviousness, so I’d say he doesn’t know either.”

“So, what am I supposed to do then?”

Maverick considers that a moment, “Kiddo, I don’t think you have to do anything. You could let this whole thing with Jake be a mess of one-sided pining, or you could take a chance. I really think he likes you, Bradley.”

“I’m just scared that he won’t feel the same and I’ll ruin the friendship we’ve rebuilt. Or it will work for a while, but that I’ll fuck it up in the long run.”

Maverick flips the burgers on the grill again, then turns back to Bradley. “Look, things like this—love and relationships—have always ended with me learning the hard way. It doesn’t have to be that way with you and Jake. Don’t let those fears hold you back from taking a chance. I know what it’s like to live with that regret. And, since you’re as good as my son, it’s my job to warn you against repeating my mistakes.”

“You really do think it’s worth the risk?” Bradley asks, hopefully.

“I do, kiddo. And it’s a different time now. You and Jake are blessed to not have to fear for your careers over how you feel about each other. I wasn’t so lucky. I told myself that the fear of losing my career was what held me back for so many years, but it was me too. I was scared to try with Ice. And, well, you know how that ended up.” Maverick’s voice breaks at the end of the sentence.

“Fuck, Mav. I didn’t mean to bring up—“

Maverick raises up a hand, effectively shushing Bradley. “It’s okay. I want you to know that so you can learn from it. I would hate for you to have to experience the regret that Ice and I both had for years over not doing something about our feelings. I know he loved Sarah, but I never stopped wondering what might have been. Don’t make that same mistake, Bradley, please.”

Bradley can feel himself starting to tear up just at the thought of all that Maverick has lost along the way. Sure, Maverick has Penny now, and he knows that they love each other, but like Maverick said, he still wonders what could have been.

Damn it. Maverick’s right. Bradley won’t be able to live with himself if he lets the chance pass him by, never knowing what could have been between him and Jake. That same regret that Maverick lives with…Bradley honestly doesn’t think he’d be strong enough to handle it.

“Maybe you’re right,” Bradley concedes.

Maverick chuckles, slightly tearfully, “With this, I know I am.”

“I just wish I could be as sure as you.”

“Bradley, do you know what makes me so sure?”

“Years of experience?” Bradley ventures.

Maverick shrugs, “Well, yes, but also, it’s the way you two look at each other. When you’re not looking Jake looks at you like you’ve hung the moon. Like you’re the most beautiful, perfect person that’s ever walked the Earth.”

Bradley blushes, trying to brush it off, “I don’t know about that.”

Maverick gives him a pointed look. “And the looks you give him? It’s exactly how your dad used to look at your mom when they were dating and for the several years they were married. He loved her so much, and I can see that same love in your eyes when you look at Jake.”

Maverick finishes up with the burgers on the grill, setting them on a plate. Once Maverick’s hands are free, Bradley brings him in for a grateful hug. “Thanks, Mav.”

“Of course, Baby Goose. Be confident, and when you get the chance, make that man yours.”

[quagsireoutpost]

[A video is attached. Would you like to view?]

The video is facing someone, assumedly Outpost himself. He has short, dark orange hair, and a bandana covering the lower half of his face.

“Yooooo..” He speaks quietly, awkwardly trailing off, “If I have this set up right, it should uh.. post this video automatically in like.. seven hours or so if something goes wrong? Hopefully it’s set up right—whatever.”

The camera switches from facing Outpost to facing the area around them. A dirty sewer, mossy grey bricks for every wall. “So uh, the warehouse was empty. Guess they uh.. learned their lesson, right? But I thought I heard something, so.. of course, don’t really wanna.. risk anything, but if it’s my supervisor I need to help her on he escape route. What choice do I have?”

Outpost fiddles with her rotomphone, before it eventually clicks onto her belt, continuing to show the area in front of her, just obviously at a lower angle.

She walks slowly, poking around each corner before continuing to move at a brisk pace. Eventually, she looks around one, and quickly moves back behind it upon spotting someone, movement so quick that the figure comes out blurry.

After a few breaths, Outpost pops out again, running forward and throwing out a Pokéball.

“Soda, Taunt!”

The person, turning around, suddenly looks frantic. She has long black hair, and is wearing sunglasses and headphones. She seemingly forces herself to calm down, falling for the Zorua’s taunt.

She sends out her Falinks, only three in a line, who charge out and spin circles around Soda. Soda flinches, already tired from the one attack. “..Shit.” Outpost whispers.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, kid! I’ll give you one chance to get goin’, or else!”

He doesn’t dignify it with a response, focusing on his Zorua. “Soda, U-Turn outta there!”

That seems to hit well, but definitely not good enough against the Falinks. In any case, Soda swaps out with Paradise. The Alolan Marowak grunts, a tight hold on their bone.

“High Horsepower, don’t let ‘em rest buddy!”

Paradise squints at the charging Falinks, and slides just out of the way before they could hit. “Great job, bud! Shadow Bone!”

At top speeds, the Alolan Marowak begins spinning their bone, before they use the built up momentum to hit hard. They hit the Falinks closest, but the other two jump back up and charge again. Paradise is hit hard and spins out, fainting.

“Fuck-!”

“Don’t see why you’re complaining! I gave you a chance—I’ll even give you another one! Come on, this isn’t your fight! There’s a better way!”

“Callie.”

She flinches.

“Tide!” Outpost commands, sending out another Pokéball. “Take Down!”

The Falinks brace themselves, but the Gogoat runs right past, aiming at Callie. However, they just brush past her.. but bite down and forceabily yank off her headphones, before smashing them on the ground. The force is enough for the sunglasses to slip. Her eyes widen.

“Kid, kid don’t- You’re meddling with things you shouldn’t be messing with! ..I.. I recognize you.”

Outpost steps a little forward, before taking a breath… and singing.

…something about precious stone, a windy shore, or fate? It’s hard to make out, Outpost is definitely not a singer. However, something on Callie’s face visibility changes.

“I know what you’re doing! It’s not going to change anything!” She places her hands on her ears. “T-Throat Chop, on the trainer, NOW!”

The Falinks pause, before grouping back up and running at Outpost.

Outpost keeps singing.

The Falinks leap.

“STOP-!”

Upon the command, they choose to miss, just sliding past Outpost’s shoulder. She lets out a shaky sigh, and starts singing quieter and quieter as Callie drops to her knees, trembling.

“..Are you..?” Outpost asks after a moment, stepping closer.

Callie looks up, a clear look in her eyes, but she’s tearing up.

“..Marie. I’m sorry, I-“

“You don’t need to apologize. This isn’t your fault.”

“I- we can talk about this later. …You’re TPC right?”

“..Yeah, I was recruited for this whole.. thing.”

“Good, that’s good.. that must mean you’ll understand why the two of us need to move.”

Without a further comment, Outpost helps Callie up and the two get moving, him taking the lead on directions.

At one long stretch before a turn, Outpost unclips his rotomphone. “I think I’ll be safe now, so I’ll stop recording and turn off the failsafe.”

“You were recor-?”

[The video ends]

[caffedrine]

Keith Howell -Chapter 02 -Summary

I pretty much have no idea what I'm doing. I don't trust me, and you shouldn't either. This summary is not guaranteed to be accurate, it's mostly written for myself to follow along with the route.

Contrasting with the bright sunlight of the day, Keith’s expression was gloomy and shadowed. With an expression of mixed anxiety and fear, Keith picked up the diary from the nearby desk and opened it to the place where the engraved rose bookmark was marked.

He still writes in short, barely descriptive sentences.

The handwriting was similar but different enough to make it clear that the diary had two different authors.  Keith reads his entries and mutters that once again, he’s pushing forward. Keith exhales guiltily, just as he hears a knock on his door. His butler, Liam, enters the room.  

Using the diary, they figure out that Keith has been ‘asleep’ for the past two days, starting with the tea party with Emma. Liam notes that the switches seem to be lasting longer and longer. Keith agrees, but it might work out better this way. Furrowing his brows, Keith looks over the diary even more.

He asks Liam how he was behaving while Keith was asleep. Keith probably doesn’t have anything to worry about . . . oh, no. Was he terrible to Emma again?

Liam assures Keith that they weren’t together the entire time. For now, it’s not a problem, there are no indications that he’s doing anything to her. If anything, compared to how she behaved during the goodwill party, Emma seems much less wary of him.

Keith is relieved and refocuses on the diary. He wonders if they’ve made any discoveries about who Emma really is. Not only the Princes of Rhodolite but Prince Gilbert as well were focused on her during the goodwill party. She might still be involved in the rumors about the weapon smuggling between Rhodolite and Obsidian, but when he spoke to her at the tea party, he thinks she was uninvolved.

Liam asks if there’s a reason to dismiss her from the rumors. Keith recalls Emma’s demeanor during the tea party, she had been honest and straightforward, and he hadn’t thought she was doing anything wrong. That said, it’s not a really convincing reason.  And then Silvio had been interested in her as well.

There is so much contradictory information to make a real determination. With Obsidian suddenly making diplomatic moves and attending the goodwill meeting, Rhodolite, Benitoite, and Obsidian might form a three-country alliance that would put neutral Jade into dire straits.

This entire mess gives Keith a bad feeling. Hopefully, the rumors turn out to be just rumors, but where there is smoke, there tends to be fire.

Keith looks over the diary further. It seems that today, Emma is planning on hosting him by bringing him to the main city this afternoon. Oh no, this is the first time he himself will be hosted by Emma, she will doubtlessly notice how nervous and odd he is. Doubtlessly she will despise him.

No, no, he must not give up. He can’t be timid now, even weeds are desperate to live until they are eradicated.

Come to think of it, Liam has something he needs to tell Keith.

Keith sees Liam’s expression and covers his ears. Whenever Liam gets a half-smile like that, it’s always bad news. Liam gently pulls Keith’s hands away and assures him that this isn’t a bad thing.  

Over the past few days, there has been a new rumor circulating about Keith and Emma’s relationship. Keith panics, he doesn’t care about rumors about him, but he hates the idea of them targeting Emma. It’s only been two days since they had that tea party together! How terrible it must be for her to be connected to a gloomy man like himself.

Liam agrees that for better or worse, Keith has a reputation for having dark and gloomy. Keith complains that there isn’t a single good point about himself. Contrary to his large, sturdy frame, Keith’s eyes dart around like a lost child. He asks Liam to tell him the contents of the rumors.

In another part of the castle, Jin asks Emma if there’s any truth to her and Keith falling in love the first time they met. Not expecting this direct question, Emma inhales her breakfast instead of swallowing and tries to choke up the food. Licht is concerned that she might be dying.

Yves yells at Jin for just surprising Emma like that while they’re eating. Jin defends himself; he didn’t expect Emma to react quite like that.

Leon asks Emma if this is the first time she’s heard that particular rumor. Emma admits that this is a new one for her.

It’s been a few days since the tea party with Keith, and Emma is trying to continue her duties as Belle. In order to choose the next king, she must interview and understand each of the princes. Spending time with them, including joining them for brunch, is essential to her duties. Today she was observing the domestic faction’s morning training and had joined them during their break.

Emma guesses the rumors started when someone noticed she was spending time with Keith, but they are false. She is simply hosting him during his stay in Rhodolite and acting as his guide. Licht throws her a bone by agreeing that it is an important duty.

After the tea party, with Sariel’s permission, Emma is now Keith’s exclusive host. Yves recalls that Keith stepped in to help her out just as Silvio was about to force her to be his host instead. Jin isn’t sure this makes sense, after all, it’s Keith they’re talking about. Leon argues that this is exactly what Keith would do; if he finds anyone in trouble, he always does his best to help them out.

Emma asks if Leon’s group is on good terms with Keith. Leon explains that honestly, it’s Licht and Yves who get along with Keith the best. Emma is surprised and sees Yves smugly smile and fold his arms. He and Keith often have tea parties or visit the city together.

A while ago, Keith visited Rhodolite Castle to discuss how to protect the refugees. He had looked hungry, so Yves had invited him to join himself and Licht for tea. It was then that they discovered that Keith had a sweet tooth, so they had spent the entire tea party discussing sweets and had become fast friends.

Jin complains that he also has a sweet tooth, but Keith only likes Yves and Licht. Licht reminds him that when they first met, Jin kept on talking about boobies.

Oh, right.

(Not these kinds of boobies)

Leon remembers that occasion, it had happened after the refugee discussion was finished. Licht finishes up the story; even though he had to endure Jin’s perversion, Keith had soldiered on eating sweets, albeit with a gloomy expression.

Emma finds the image of a depressed Keith shoveling pastries into his mouth oddly cute.

Speaking of Keith’s appetite, Yves wonders if he should switch up his recipes a bit. Maybe something with more potatoes in them that would fill up Keith faster. Emma realizes that Yves and Licht both care about Keith.

Jin explains that although Keith is often depressed and gloomy, he is a gentle man with a reserved demeanor. Leon adds that this is where the rumors started, since Keith is going out of his way to spend time with Emma, rumors of their relationship were bound to start.

It took ages before Keith started seeking out Yves and Licht for company and inviting them to join him for tea parties. But with Emma, it had happened almost immediately.

It is strange, since everyone agrees that Keith is shy and reserved, and Emma recalls her time spent with him until then. He had been kind and grateful to her for discussing Rhodolite with him, even though Emma was certain she was falling short. So far, she’s only told him about the basics any child would know. She wonders if he’s getting bored of her already.

With a refreshingly sweet smile, Keith assures her that they can stop there for now. He notes that she’s a little nervous and asks if this is her first time hosting someone. Emma asks if it was that obvious.

Keith assures her that even though she’s nervous, she is also very cute. He enjoys watching her, but he also feels like giving her a break until the next time. Emma is shocked by how unexpectedly straightforward Keith is.

Suddenly Keith notices and recognizes the book Emma has with her. Emma admits that it’s a recently published book and asks if he is familiar with it. Keith admits that he loves books and will read anything regardless of the genre. He asks if she feels the same way.

Emma had been so excited to find out that she had a fellow book lover, even if he could be oddly pushy sometimes. Well, that pushy side had been really weird.

But Emma knows better than to fall in love at first sight. Until she knew him well enough to understand his intentions, she wouldn’t even court the idea. Beyond that, she needs to ensure that he doesn’t find out that she is Belle.

Leon asks if Emma is going to host Keith today as well. She is, they will meet in about an hour and visit the city. Leon frowns at her answer and mutters that Keith may not make it in time. Emma asks if Keith has work that morning and Leon explains that Keith is visiting the castle pharmacists right now.

Since there was nothing for Emma to do after parting with the domestic faction after brunch until her tour with Keith, she heads to the infirmary. Peeking inside, she finds Keith surrounded by pharmacists in an animated conversation.

They are discussing medicinal herbs, with Keith praising them for their knowledge and organization. He is advising them on substitutions, additions to improve efficacy, and storage conditions for different herbs.  The pharmacists pepper him with questions, and Keith answers so clearly that even Emma, with no medical background, can follow his explanations. It now makes sense why he was talking to Silvio about medicine just after the tea party.

Yakushi, the pharmacist guiding her, allows her into the room, and Emma lingers along the outer edge. Keith is in his element, animated and talking confidently about plants and their uses. It’s enough to make Emma also curious about medicine. Maybe her next book should be a picture book about plants.

Emma can smell a faint sweet scent in the room. Following it, she finds a basket of white flowers on top of a table. They are pretty and delicate, with a hint of pink to the otherwise white petals. She wonders if this is a medicinal ingredient. Huh, the smell seems to be getting sweeter.

Keith abruptly pulls Emma back, telling her to stay away from it. The flowers are known for having one of the strongest sleep-inducing effects among plants and can cause seizures unless regulated. They are known for having a unique scent that tricks the brain into thinking they’re sweet.

Emma is glad that Keith rescued her, but his breath on her ears is having a new effect on her heart. Emma can smell his scent, like trees deep in the forest, and she can feel her strength leave her. Even if she wanted to escape him, Keith’s hands are tight around her waist.

Keith abruptly realizes that Emma’s face is red and worriedly asks about her health. Emma explains that she’s just embarrassed to the point she feels faint. Keith assures her that she shouldn’t feel bad, pharmaceuticals are a difficult field of study, and it’s natural not to know about rare plants.

That’s not what Emma meant. If anything, Keith continuing to be so considerate of her is making her condition worse. She tells Keith that if he lets her go, she’ll be able to calm down.

It takes Keith a moment to realize what Emma means.

Keith springs back from Emma, releasing her immediately while apologizing profusely, his as pink as a rose. Again, he has acted like a barbarian, and she must be horrified at his behavior. Keith is really, really sorry.

Emma insists that she still needs to thank him. If it wasn’t for him, she’d be unconscious by now and would have given the pharmacists a surprise new patient to handle.

Unexpectedly, Keith notes that the flowers are beautiful. Emma is confused, and Keith explains that he thought she liked the look of those flowers . . .he’s misunderstood, she’s not interested, is she? Emma realizes that he’s referring to the flowers he just rescued her from, he must be trying to change the subject. She remembers him doing the same thing at the tea party a few days ago.

Keith is correct, Emma thought the petals looked a little pink and pretty. But she wasn’t curious about the plant because of its looks, she was wondering if it was some kind of medicine. Emma admits that she had been watching Keith’s discussion with the pharmacists, and was impressed by how well he handled all their questions. Seeing him like that made her curious about medicinal plants.

Keith’s eyes widen as if he’s at a loss for words. He hasn’t said all that much, he just happened to know the answers to the questions they asked. If anything, he was poor at explaining it, and he wonders if anyone else were to answer their questions, they would understand better.

Emma is confused, as modesty goes, this is a bit much. Is Keith not used to being praised for anything at all?

Keith’s words speed up, his gaze resting on anything other than Emma. He is happy that he was able to get Emma interested in medicine, if only by a little bit. By the way, why is Emma here in the first place?

Oh no! Is it already time for them to head into town? Was Emma tired of waiting so she came to pick Keith?

Emma assures Keith that there’s still time until their appointment. She just happened to be told by Leon that Keith was meeting with pharmacists today and had gotten worried. Keith is happy to know that he hasn’t caused her undue trouble, but he wonders if the way Leon had phrased that sounded a bit mean.

As Emma can see, Keith isn’t here because he’s ill. He’s here just to discuss medicine with the castle pharmacists about substitutes for some of their medicines. Recently thieves have broken into the herb supplier’s garden and now the castle has only half of the herbs they ordered. Emma is concerned, people need medicine, and this likely affects the pharmacists in town as well.

Emma thinks that the situation is odd, wouldn’t people be more likely to buy already prepared medicine and not the herbs? Did the thieves accidentally steal the medicine before it was processed?

Keith explains that before the herbs are processed, they can be used for many things, not just beneficial medicine. It might not be the general populace that the thieves are planning on selling the herbs to. The herb stolen could be made into a rare and pricey medicine not sold in ordinary stores.

It just occurred to Keith that Emma might think she’s talking to a farmer and not a prince. All he’s talked about is plants, which must be boring. Emma quickly assures him that if anything, she is amazed at his knowledge.

Keith admits that his home castle has a medicinal herb garden that he’s been helping out with since he was little. Jade is rich in nature, agriculture, and livestock. And among all the produce, medicinal herbs in particular drive their economy.

Emma realizes that she has made a large mistake. In her preparations to be Keith’s host, she has focused most of her studies on Rhodolite. Instead, she should have read up on Jade so that she could more properly attend to the Prince of Jade’s needs. Awkwardly, she tells Keith that she’s not familiar with other countries, all while wondering where Clavis’ nearest pit trap is. She apologizes for being rude and ignorant of his country.

Keith smiles gently at her and tells her that he’s glad. At Emma’s confused look, he backtracks with an apology. He just thought that maybe he was some use to her studies, and it made him happy. After all, she’s at court studying kingdom bureaucracy, right?

Keith tells her that even if she doesn’t understand something, she should not get discouraged. Emma’s still in the process of learning, she shouldn’t feel rushed and instead study at her own pace. He doesn’t feel like she’s been rude to him at all. In fact, if there’s anything she wants to know about Jade, or medicinal plants, he would be so happy if she were to ask him. Though, he might not be the best source since he has his own biases and weaknesses.

Keith is such a wonderful person. No, he’s too good to be true. Emma’s heart contracts and a new feeling of warmth envelops her body. Maybe this kind of reaction is normal for Keith. Emma rarely meets anyone so kind and encouraging as he is, and they’ve only known each other for a few days. Emma asks if Keith is really okay with discussing Jade and medicine with her in the future, to which he readily agrees.

Keith’s kindness is as warm as sunshine.

[hopeamarsu]

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#the way i’m going to dust that full moon fic i have hidden deep inside my google drive for this

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

congratulations on your milestone!! i would like to request Clyde Logan with “Your eyes are beautiful” fluff or angst or a little in between. Whatever you feel fits the prompt.

Thank you so much! ❤️

I decided to combine angst and fluff and so this ended up as exes to lovers situation where it hurts in the start, but hopefully feels good at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Beautiful eyes

Clyde Logan x gn!reader

Word count 1,4k

Rating Teen

Warnings: Exes to lovers (or breakup to makeup), angst, fluff. Reader has a favorite drink.

Summary: He misses you, but most of all, he misses your beautiful eyes granting him calm. Using the prompt “Your eyes are beautiful”.

Your eyes are beautiful.

He just hates that now whenever he sees you, you hide them from him. Every time your eyes accidentally meet, you lower your gaze or look the other way and it breaks him.

And the worst part is that Clyde now sees you everywhere. In the market, leaving the local library building after your shift when he’s entering the place, every night in his dreams and now here, in his bar where your friends must’ve dragged you to. You haunt him, your beautiful eyes now sad and it’s all his fault.

Well, his and his brothers stupid cauliflower plan. The plan Jimmy promised him would do no harm. But it did the worst kind of harm because that single word, cauliflower, cost him you.

Ever since Clyde got out of Monroe Correctional Facility, he’s been living in a world where you no longer greet him with sleepy kisses when he crawls into your bed after a night shift, a world where he no longer can scent you on his pillow, a world where burnt bacon doesn’t taste the same since you no longer cook it for him. A world where he no longer can gaze into your beautiful eyes and tell you just how much it brings him calm to do so.

He knows now he should’ve let you in on the plan from the start. He trusts you with his life, even now, and he should’ve let you in. But hiding the truth, evading your attempts at visiting him at the prison, actively lying to you when you begged him to speak what was troubling him, those were the little moments that chipped away your trust in him.

Even if all those moments were done because he wanted to protect you from harm, Clyde can’t blame you for wanting space, for wanting to figure out where you stood with him and eventually choosing to part ways. It kills him, makes him wither away like a flower without a sun, but he’ll shoulder that pain because it’s what he deserves.

He’s always wanted what’s best for you and if being with him isn’t the best, then you have made the right call. Even if his heart lies shattered on the floor, crumbled into dust, Clyde wishes you will get everything you want in life. He’s had his moment with the sun, but being a creature not worthy of the rays long term, he will slink back into the shadows. It’s his place and he cannot ask for more than his place.

“Clyde?”

“Hmm?” He turns to his bartender, the one Mellie had hired during his absence and the one he’s kept on board afterwards since the guy is good. Really good. Maybe even better bartender than Clyde. He’s kind, friendly to the patrons and never loses his temper. He’s never late, doesn’t complain about anything and Clyde thinks Mellie struck gold with this one and he’s not about to mess that up.

“The group in the booth,” The man gestures at your table, keeping his voice low. “They wished for the…” He rattles off the name of the bottle, before he continues”…and, ummm, it’s on the list but I can’t find the bottle.” He grins sheepishly before shrugging.

“Before I tell ‘‘em the bad news, I wanted to check with you.”

The name makes Clyde swallow audibly. It’s your drink. The one you had when something went especially well and you wanted to celebrate or to complete hell, so you needed a pick-me-up.

He has one bottle of it and he keeps it in his office just for you. Even after your breakup, Clyde didn’t have the heart to move it in with the rest of the bottles, holding on to a silly reminder of you.

“Yeah,” He gruffs. “Ah ‘ave it. Is in mah office. I’ll serve it fer ‘em.” His colleague nods and disappears back into the comfort of the bar top, smiling at the next patron and Clyde lets out a long breath.

He can do this.

He can pick up the bottle from his office, walk over to you and your friends, check that the bottle is correct and pour the drinks. In and out, two minutes tops. He’ll be polite, bask in your warmth without it being creepy and if he’s lucky, that will sustain him for a good long while. It will be alright, Clyde tells himself as a weak prep talk.

It takes but a few moments to pick up said bottle and make his way across the bar. He’s a ball of nerves but he holds it in, keeping a tight lid on his emotions. There’s four people sitting in the booth with you and all the heads turn in his direction when he stops in front of the rounded table. Clyde picks up the bottle, holding the neck with his metallic hand - his new, improved hand - and places it on the table with a soft click.

“I’m sorry ta keep ya waitin’, it took meh a moment ta ge’ ‘his. How many glasses fer yeh?”

The one he thinks you call Cam winks at him, not so subtly before rising up from the booth. “I need a change in music.” The others follow, citing a need to go to the bathroom or going out for a smoke, whatever. They are clearly doing it to give Clyde a moment alone with you and by the way your beautiful eyes shine with a small flicker of hope, you are not opposed to talking with him.

“Hi.”

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111 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

#4

Paper planes - part 1

Frankie Morales x fem reader

Rating: Mature

Word count 6,3k

Warnings: Soulmate AU, soulmate-identifying marks, single dad!Frankie, minor angst, dating services, TF boys are a family

A/N: I found this one deep into my Google Drive folders and maybe it’s time it sees the light of day. Then I read it through and realised it’s about 12k words so I split it down the middle. I’ll post the second part in a few days. 

Frankie opened the door to the small bar, enjoying the smell of greasy food and beer wafting to greet him when he stepped inside from the cold. He shook off his coat, draping it over his hand while nodding at Mark behind the counter before heading towards their usual table. 

Soon enough, a glass of cold, golden deliciousness was delivered in front of him while he got himself seated and settled. Frankie was the first of the guys to arrive though that was not unusual; he lived the closest to the bar and Santi was always running late anyways. Checking his phone for messages from the babysitter (none), Frankie scrolled aimlessly for some articles while he waited. 

“Hey man, sorry I’m late,” Benny’s voice pulled him out of his phone and the tall man flopped opposite him. Frankie grinned, pushing his phone closed and taking in the flushed appearance. Benny looked good, his eyes sparkling as he pushed his floppy hair off his face. There was something sparkling in the younger man’s gaze that made Frankie drop his eyes to his hands and when the realisation hit, he grinned wide. 

“No way! When? Who?” 

Benny grinned back, lifting his right hand to show the colourful mark of an envelope on the inside of his wrist. What had once been a faded grey mark under a standard leather cuff was now bare skin with a mark of a mix of blue and green, the vibrancy of them giving away that Benny now had what all they hoped for deep inside.

Benny had found his soulmate. 

“It’s Sam, from the gym. Will usually does my wraps but he was busy doing something,” Benny waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Frankie chuckled low. They both knew that since Will had been introduced to his lady at a corporate event a few months back, they’d been at it like bunnies. 

Frankie couldn’t have been happier for his brother, even if it meant that Will missed a couple of get-togethers because of the love he now had in his life. Will deserved the happiness. And now it looked like he could be similarly happy for his other brother as well. 

“So Sam offered to help me and, you know you can’t do the wraps without touching, and boom! Instant colour and these full-body tingles all over me - thanks Mark - and we were just standing there, all dumbfounded for a moment.”

“I hope you did something more than just stand there, Benjamin,” Frankie couldn’t help but tease a little, hoping that his weak grin would mask the slight pang inside his heart when Benny cackled loudly and confirmed that yes, there had been kissing and confessions and they were going out on a date tomorrow night. 

He knew the likelihood of finding his own soulmate was low; most people never met them in their lifetime. Benny was extremely lucky that way. And with him having a kid and working as a helicopter mechanic full time, the likelihood was even lower since he didn’t have time or funds to attend those lavish matchmaking events that people raved about. Any spare penny he got went to Ella and her future and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

But still, there was the romantic notion inside him that yearned for that sort of connection, that perfect harmony a soulmate love was supposed to bring you. To have that bond and that trust and everything good that came with a soulmate was something Frankie craved deep inside. 

He wanted someone to dote upon, to be himself with - scars and all - and know they had been made to be together with him. He wanted to love and be loved in return, the whole fairytale shebang and happily ever after he often read to Ella as a bedtime story. 

“You okay man?” 

Benny’s voice brought him back to the bar and present and he shook his head to clear out his mind. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry man, I must be still tired of that double shift I pulled.” It was a weak excuse but thankfully Benny got the underlying message and nodded. 

“No worries. I’m babbling anyway, so… There was another reason I asked you here tonight.” Benny dug around his pockets for a moment before pulling out a black envelope, thick and glossy and Frankie’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t even register that Benny said I, not we. 

“Tell me you didn’t propose to Sam yet.” He blurted out.

“Nah, I want to enjoy dating first. Someone down the line sure, being soulmates and all, but not yet,” Benny grinned before pushing the envelope towards the brunette. Frankie’s fingers shook a little when he took the envelope from Benny and twirled it around. The cardstock was hefty and beautiful and the golden R pressed on the seal made him look at his brother again, this time with suspicion. 

“The Registry? What are you doing with an envelope from the Registry, Benny?” 

“The boys and I, we thought…” The second the words were out of Benny's mouth, Frankie barked one of his own out.

“NO!” 

“Just listen, Catfish!”

Frankie huffed, crossing his hands in front of his body. His brown eyes, normally soft and tender, were hard as steel against Benny’s earnest blue ones. He slid the envelope back towards the other man with a frown. 

“I’m not going to let you spend your hard earned money like this, Ben. Just no. Take it back, get a fucking refund.”

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150 notes - Posted July 21, 2022

#3

Congratulations on your milestone, my dear! 🧡 May I request a prompt from your list? If you are so inclined: Will Miller with “immediately looking at the other after telling/doing something funny in hope to see their smile?”

Thank youuuu 🥰

Thank you so much my darling! 🥰

I am so sorry it has taken me a moment to get to it, but I hope you enjoy this. I will admit, that I wrote three different beginnings for this prompt and this did not end up where I began it. Will is a little devil and he wanted a little something-something to go with the bad puns.

Tequila, lemon, and salt

Will Miller x gn!reader

Rating Mature

Word count 1,6k

Warnings: Alcohol, flirting, bad dates, first kiss, pre-smuttiness, tiny hint of Dom!Will. An attempt at humor was made.

Summary: It'd odd to see him without his brothers around, but you will always make time for Will.

“All alone tonight, Will? This is new.” 

You muse and run a rag across the bartop, watching the gorgeous man you have been crushing over ever since he became a regular at your little hole-in-the-wall bar with his brothers take a seat in front of you. 

You rarely see him alone, the boys as you’ve begun to affectionately call the four of them always moving as a group. It’s Friday, so you had expected to see all of them tonight, but you are not complaining about having a moment alone with the captain. 

Truth be told, you’d had a crush on him ever since Benny introduced you to his brothers. You’d gotten friendly over at the gym with the younger Miller brother but it had been the older version that had swept you off your feet with his quiet but confident demeanor and a body that should be on display with the rest of the Gods. The times you’d gotten to really talk with him had just deepened your crush - the in-depth talks you two could get into were a highlight of your day - so now your infatuation was almost bordering on silly. But he’d never made any move to indicate he was interested in you, so you didn’t either. 

“It seems that way,” He seems hesitant for some reason, the words lacking their usual snark. You take him in more closely, banishing your swooning thoughts over his corded forearms on full display when you realize his piercing blue eyes seem different than usual and there is tension on his shoulders that’s normally not there. He looks like he’s trying to solve a puzzle in his mind, something that has just been revealed to him and is lacking the corner pieces.

“Oh, what happened?” 

“I had a date. It went south, real south.” Will’s voice rumbles. You try not to wince over the knowledge your crush will always be just a crush, turning to grab a tequila bottle off the shelf. You remind yourself sternly that this is not about you, it’s about Will. He has a broken heart and what kind of bartender would you be should you not help him soothe it?

With practiced movements, you place two shot glasses on the table and pour generous amounts of clear liquid into both of them. Another sweep of your hands and two lemon wedges are placed on top of the shots with a salt shaker in the middle.

“Well, liqour might not solve all your love problems, but it’s worth a shot,” You quip, immediately checking to see if your terrible pun hits the mark. You hope it does. The corner of his mouth quirks a little and you grin wider, pleased to see that all is not lost yet. You tip your head towards the glasses.

“Shall we toast?” 

Will regards you for a moment, his piercing blue eyes regaining some of their normal icy fire. His eyes flash and he seems to come to a conclusion, but there is a sense in his demeanor that tells you the decision is not about the shots but about something else entirely. 

About you.

Unconsciously, you wet your lips, his gaze always causing somersaults to appear in your belly. His eyes flit downward, honing on your tongue and suddenly it feels like the temperature of your small bar is raised by several degrees. The energy humming between you and him is magnetic and charged and the rest of the empty bar falls into static.

“I like drinking, but tequila is where I draw the lime.” He tells you, the words huskier than they should be given the joke he just said. You’d laugh if you could, but all is stuck inside you. The unrestrained hunger now on display robs you of everything. “Unless it’s a body shot. There’s nothing like using the sweat of your partner to chase the shot down.”  

He lets his heated gaze settle on your exposed collarbone, like he is imagining doing just that. 

Pouring the drink all over your body and drinking it down. Maybe taking the lemon wedge into his mouth and dragging it along your sternum after. Placing those sinful lips on your burning skin and sucking it dry until only dark marks remain, branding you as his. You shudder, the intensity of the way he looks at you makes your heart race and hope that this is not a fever dream. 

“Why’d your date go south, Will?” You whisper, both anticipating and dreading his answer.

“They said I was not in the moment with them. Mentioned I had been talking about this gorgeous bartender I knew for half the night and maybe I’d be better off confessing my true feelings rather than trying to play pretend with them.” He confesses. 

Will takes one of the lemon wedges between two fingers and you swallow audibly. He captures your eyes with his, the intensity amped up to maximum. “I decided to take my chances and shoot my shot.” 

The width and length of the fingers have been a source of your dreams for quite some time and he twirls the lemon expertly, fueling your racing thoughts more. You think of how those fingers would feel tracing your neck and sides and a fire lights inside you. Will keeps his eyes on you, waiting for an answer you don’t know you can voice out loud without giving away everything you have. So you do what you can do and move.

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168 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

#2

hi lovely 💐 thank you so much for opening requests & congrats again on your follower milestone ! 💛 [xo from princessxkenobi]

can I please request these prompts, 'hugs that last a little longer than they should', & 'the image of you pops into my head and I just lose my breath' with Will Miller?

maybe he reunites with his lady after being away on a mission with the guys for a while? they aren't together yet, but it feels like they already are, the mutual pining is there, he just needs her to finally see it when he returns ! 💌

Hi darling 💛

Thank you so much. Your kindness and comments are always something I look forward to! Thank you for being you and being here, sharing this space, and making it wonderful.

You are my reason

Will Miller x fem reader (no pronouns)

Word count 1,4k

Rating Teen/Mature

Warnings: Pining, love confessions. Very fluffy.

Summary: If being in this jungle has taught him anything, it's that he no longer can hide his feelings. Prompts hugs that last a little longer than they should' and 'the image of you pops into my head and I just lose my breath'

The jungle is unforgiving and the wound on his stomach aches, but Will feels none of that when he reclines back, letting the lush greenery around him hide him from view. He spies Benny talking in hushed tones with Santiago, heads drawn together as the men plan for the next day. Frankie is napping, ballcap drawn deep over his eyes, his turn to guard the camp later. Tom is off somewhere, but for him Will doesn’t want to waste thoughts. The man has gotten them into this mess, hiding in the jungle and running for their lives. 

He knows it’s petty, but he’s glad Tom is somewhere off from their camp. He’d never say it out loud, but their commanding officer has royally fucked up. But, he doesn’t want to think about that and instead scans the area to count the others around him again. 

Satisfied that the men he considers brothers are safe, Will closes his eyes, hiding the baby blues from others. He doesn’t have to wait long, his mind already knowing where to go. It easily conjures up an image of home. Of wood panels and terracotta accents. Of white fences and a porch swing. Of warmth of a coffee cup in his while he stands barefooted in his kitchen. 

But in his dreams, there is someone else in the kitchen, not as a friend but as something more. Someone who he can only hope wants the same thing as him when Will can return back from this hell. You. 

You with your big smile, hopeful eyes and soft skin that Will aches to touch and explore. You, with your pretty dresses and tempting thighs. You, who he wants to hold close, keep near for all eternity. 

You who he hasn’t had the courage to tell his feelings to. But that stops now. He will tell you everything, every painful and hopeful thing his guarded heart has kept hidden.  

If this trip has taught him anything, is that he no longer has time to postpone telling you how he feels. Will can’t let you slip through his fingers. He jut has to hold onto hope that he is not too late.

**

Will’s dirty, his beard is slightly overgrown and he’s sure the clothes he has on would have to be disposed as hazardous waste but he couldn’t wait a second longer once the plane hit the familiar tarmac. 

Here he stands, metaphorical hat in hand, and waits for you to open the door. He’s run through each and every scenario in his mind already, calculating the odds and anticipating the outcomes. He can’t help himself sometimes; he counts to keep himself calm and it comes to him as naturally as breathing. This is who he is, numbers and all.

The door opens and there you stand, long summer dress floating around your ankles and Will is almost sure the image of you keeps him captivated for life. He’s lost and he never wants to be found it that means he can keep this image of you, smiling like the sun.

Another image pops up in his mind of you and this time his breath is lost. He sees the dress, the white of it glowing and making you look ethereal and suddenly Will can’t wait to see it in reality. It’s that thought that gives him the courage to look you in the eyes.

“Sweetheart, I’m…”

“William Arthur Miller! Where the fuck have you been!?” Your face morphs, the sadness echoing in your voice and filling up your porch. Before he can move, you spring forward like a wired coil and ram into him. The oomph that leaves his chest is more of surprise than anything else. His hands wrap around you, feeling your scent wrap him in a similar warmth and happiness he’s been dreaming about for all those nights in the jungle and middle of the rocks, waiting for a signal, any signal from Benny. 

He buries his face in your neck, breathing deep to ground himself. He tries to count how many moments he has until he has to move away, how long can he steal this moment until the awkwardness of a hug too long rears its head. You burrow deeper into Will, sighing and he can feel your muscles loosen. In turn, he grips you tighter, unwilling to let this opportunity slip by. Given the chance, Will would hold you forever. 

When you let go, untangling your limbs from his neck and back, Will can already see the telltale signs of your embarrassment. “Please don't,” he whispers softly, fascinated by how visceral a reaction he gets when his voice ghosts over the slope of your neck. “Don’t hide. Not from me.”

He waits a beat, before adding. “Never hide from me, sweetheart. My heart could not take it.” 

You look at him with a curious expression, something mixed with hope that Will can’t really discern. Maybe it’s his own hopes and dreams he wants to see reflected back to him. He wants to hope it’s not the case though. He takes your hand, pulling you close as he places one of your hands right over his heart. 

Hi baby blues, the ones that can storm rain and ice over anyone who steps on his way, soften into heavenly clouds and he holds your gaze. He knows he’s normally guarded, a man of routine and precise calculations, but around you his sharp edges soften. He hopes his words that formulate in his mind convey that to you.

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253 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Congratulations!!! #17 on the I miss you list with Kylo Ren. Thank you ❤️

Thank you so much ❤️

I went with a soft and slightly shy Kylo on this one, I hope you enjoy!

The Gift

Kylo Ren x gn!reader

Word count 1,7k

Warnings: Blink and miss it threats to others, but really it's mostly fluff. Nothing big.

Summary: Kylo can't get your remark out of his mind and he's finally done something about it. But how will you react? Using the prompt “I saw that sweet you liked so much in the market today,"

That little box should not have bothered Kylo as much as it did, sitting at the edge of his table in all innocence. He growled at himself, annoyed when his eyes once more flitted over from the paper to it for the third time in the short span of time he’d tried to focus on his writing.  

It wasn’t a large box, fitting almost into the palm of his hand. It was made of black cardstock, a crimson red ribbon wrapped around it in a bow. They were his colors, his signature and that’s why Kylo had chosen them for the box. It was from him, so it should represent his colors. 

But the more he looked at the box and the bow, he found himself in deep thought. What it represented, sitting on his desk like that.  Or, what it would mean when he presented the box to its intended owner. 

Frowning, Kylo set down his calligraphy pen, dark honey eyes now entirely focused on the object. The writing would have to wait, this puzzle would have to be solved before he could focus on anything else. 

It was just a gift. Nothing special about a gift, right? Just a small gift, a tiny token of his appreciation. An appreciation of time spent together in the training hall. It didn’t mean anything. Really, it was nothing and he should just move on from how insignificant it really was. 

Kylo sighed. He might be a talented liar, a master at disguising his thoughts from Snoke, and a powerful wielder of the Force, feared by others around the galaxy but he could not hide from himself. He knew the truth and there was no way around it. The gift wasn’t nothing, but instead, it was everything. Because that tiny, inconspicuous thing hidden under the black and red represented just how much he felt for … you.  

You’d said it almost in passing during one of the training sessions with the bo staff. Really, it had been an off-the-shoulder remark of how your home planet produced this amazing little treat during the harvest festival. How you missed the taste of it on your tongue and how impossible it was to make on your own in your quarters since half the ingredients were local to your planet only.  How Kylo had tucked the information away into his brain until it had grown triple in size and he no longer could ignore the ache in his chest where his heart should be. 

He’d flown off alone in the cover of darkness in search of the treat, finally locating the small planet you had once left in search of greater things. Leaving even his helmet behind - it did no good being recognized as the monster he was - Kylo had wandered all around the market, feeling the suns on his face and nodding politely to the smiles of the vendors unaware that he held their lives in a delicate balance of horror and calm.

Finally, he’d located one vendor on the outskirts of the market square and haggled a good moment over the price. He steadfastly ignored how good and human he’d felt during that interaction with the seller, choosing to not focus on the hope that flickered like a small flame on his chest on the flight back to base. 

But now the hope had grown like your remark in his mind and Kylo no longer could brush it aside. He knew it was dangerous and if he were caught just thinking about hope, the repercussions would be severe. The best thing would be to get the gift straight to you under the guise of something else and lose all evidence that it had come from him.  

Almost like he’d summoned it, a knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Kylo waved his hand in a lazy flick, the lock on it disengaging and the door whooshed open. “Sir,” You grinned, bowing your head in respect but he knew from the way a smile danced on your lips that this was all for show. 

“Enter,” He spoke gruffly, the vocoder of his helmet obscuring the slight surprise in his tone. He waited for a beat before continuing, aware that spies were mingling amongst everyone. 

“State your business.” 

“I came to see if your ego had survived the latest ass-whooping and if you’d be up for a rematch later today.” Your grin grew even wider when the door behind you clicked close, securing the space, and the official stance you had adopted loosened. “How about it, want to join me in the training hall, Ren?” 

His eyes, hidden inside his helmet, flitted back to the box and Kylo swallowed. This was the perfect opportunity to present you with it and no one would be the wiser. His hand, a traitorous thing, seemed to move on its own as it grasped the small box and held it out.

“I have something for you,” the words felt foreign but right on how the tongue, and Kylo watched with bated breath as you moved closer to him and picked the small box from his extended arm. The tiny touch from your leather gloves against his equally hidden one made goosebumps rise on his neck and Kylo was sure his ears were already burning. Once more he was glad the helmet Snoke insisted he wore whenever he was outside of his private chambers hid him from the world. 

You turned the small box in your hands before gently pulling on the ribbon. It landed softly on the ground but your eyes were fixed on the box. They grew wider, surprised when the lid fell open and you could gaze at what was inside.

“Ren…” Your voice was barely a whisper, something unknown glistening in your eyes. 

“I saw that sweet you liked so much in the market today,” He began explaining, “and I remembered you had said that this was something you missed from your home. So. I wanted to bring you a little piece of your home to this ship.”

“Oh…” Your eyes moved back to the box and the sweets and Kylo could feel himself grow nervous. He couldn’t think when he had bought a gift for someone, so he didn’t know how to act in the silence that followed you opening the box. But before he could doubt himself more, you raised your eyes to look at him and spoke softly. 

“May I see the man who gave me this thoughtful gift?”

The words froze Kylo in his tracks. You wanted to see the man? You thought of him as a man and not the monster Snoke had trained and molded him to be? The hope that had flickered grew into its full height, filling his chest with all kinds of things. Possibilities. Wishes. Dreams. Light. 

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299 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[moremaybank]

being an attractive and flashy girl and being Klaus mikaelson's girlfriend (headcanons)

being an attractive and flashy girl and being klaus mikaelson’s girlfriend would be like…

klaus masterlist

you first caught klaus’ eye when you were walking around in town, shopping bags in hand with your decked out designer outfit and heels

your hair was perfectly curled, falling down your shoulders, your outfit on point, nails manicured to perfection, and lips beautifully glossed

it was that moment that he knew you were the type of girl who knew what you wanted from life, and that you knew how to take it

and he is definitely the same way

especially after living such a lavish life for the past thousand years

you both appreciated the finer things in life

the finest champagnes, the most expensive clothes and jewelry, luxurious vacations

klaus already enjoyed pleasures like these, and now he had someone to share it with

someone he could spoil endlessly to his heart’s content

and you were never the one to pass something like that up

you also take great pleasure in spoiling him as well

whenever you’re out and you see something klaus would like, it’s purchased and in a bag hanging off your arm faster than you can say “hello”

he loves when you come back from your hair and nail appointments because now he has the excuse to compliment you even more than normal

you look good

and everyone knows you look good

so klaus is even more jealous and possessive

because he knows that all it will take is one look for someone to be as completely enamoured by you as he is

fancy restaurants for date night, no expenses spared of course

he adores taking you shopping, always the one to let you lead him and holding your countless shopping bags while you just look pretty and browse your favourite stores

closing down the mall for a day when you’re shopping so you don’t have to wait in line or wait for employees to help you

klaus being impatient with how long he has to wait for you to get ready

you yelling at him to shut up because you want to look good

him getting turned on by you doing your makeup

“baby, you’re sweet but i can’t kiss you right now. i don’t wanna mess up my lipstick”

“i wasn’t aware your lipstick took precedence over your boyfriend”

him getting annoyed by how long your skincare routine is

“do you even know what niacinamide means, love?”

“yes, it means it’ll help me and my skin”

him dreading you packing for your vacations because he can’t understand your need for 20 outfits if you’re only going for a week

“we’re only going for 7 days”

“then bring me 5 more outfits, plus shoes”

speaking of shoes

you refuse to wear anything but your red-bottom heels any time you go out

he might as well call you gloria from modern family because you’d walk all over disneyland in heels for an entire week rather than wear sensible shoes for a day

you have a different purse for every outfit and this drives klaus crazy

“if you don’t choose one in the next 5 minutes i’m going to carry you like a purse”

this earns him a glare but he doesn’t care one bit

klaus always gifts you luxurious jewelry worn by princesses and people of high status during history

he loves spoiling you with new additions to your wardrobe quite frequently, because he knows you’ll accept without hesitation

he might as well be your personal stylist because he knows what you like

not that you’d argue if he wanted to

all in all, no matter how much he may complain, he loves you and your flashy ways, always and forever

~

a/n: i’ve done so much writing today but hopefully i wake up to more requests because i’ve been loving doing them for you guys <3

[footballxixstars]

Hi love! Can you make one of Jadon and y/n, where reader works in Man Utd mkt team and Jadon always disagree with her, she thinks he hates her. One day he crosses the line and she decides she has had enough, they end together?

Thanks!

Pull Her Pigtails • Jadon Sancho

Ever since Jadon joined Manchester United he’s been a pain in your backside. Any reason he could find he would disagree with you. No matter how small the problem was he would always find something to argue about it but only to you if it was any of the other kit staff who gave him the stuff it was fine but as soon as it was you there was always a little problem. You’re sure half the time he disagrees with you just for the sake of it and there’s nothing actually wrong with the kit. The only reason that you could come up with for the disagreements was that he hated you and just wanted to make your life hell. You hadn’t done anything to him though, not that you could think of, so you have no idea why he hates you but he must if this is how he treats you. You’ve complained to the other members of the kit team about it but there’s nothing they can really do about it so you have to live with it and hopefully Jadon grows up a little bit and realises he can’t act like that to people he barely knows.

“Y/N, you’ve messed up my stuff again,” Jadon complained as you were putting down somebody else’s training gear in their space. Of course, Jadon was complaining about his own stuff. What else would he do when you’re around?

“No, I haven’t,” You sighed, already having enough of this conversation. You knew where it was going and you weren’t in the mood for it today. The day had just been getting worse and worse so Jadon better not start this today or else it won’t end like it usually does. Usually, you’ll just play along to Jadon’s antics and change whatever he’s complaining about but today you are certain that won’t be happening. You’ll probably argue back and if you’re lucky that won’t happen and you’ll just walk out of the room but you won’t just stand there and take it today. That was certain.

“Yes, you have. The shorts are wrong and so are the socks,” Jadon stated shoving them into your already full hands clearly wanting you to go and change them into what he wanted although they probably wouldn’t be good enough for him either Nothing will be good enough for Jadon as long as you’re the one that gives it to him. Any other day you wouldn’t argue with him. Any other day you would just change the shorts and socks for him just to avoid a major conflict that doesn’t need to happen but today. Today you couldn’t just drop it and had to argue back. You’d finally had enough of his complaining and as much as you promised yourself to just ignore him and his stupid antics you found yourself unable to do so and before you knew it you were opening your mouth to argue back.

“No, they’re not. They are the same ones that you wore the other day and you had no complaints about them then,” You seethed clenching your teeth together so you don’t just lash out at him. No matter how much you want to strangle him or smash his head against the wall you need to remain professional since this is your job and other than Jadon you quite enjoy your job and don’t want to be fired. Although it can get boring washing sweaty and smelly clothes that they’ve worn for hours and then having to fold them all and sort them into piles ready for the players the main people you work with make it a lot of fun plus you get to go to all of the Manchester United games for free so it’s an incredible job to have apart from that one issue called Jadon Sancho. You’re lucky to have it.

“Well they’re clearly not if these are not mine and the wrong ones,” Jadon declared his voice getting louder causing other people to stop their conversations and turn to the both of you. Probably to see what the two of you were arguing about this time although it’s always the same thing. They are kind of used to this interaction by now but they aren’t used to you snapping back at him, arguing back so they were all slightly intrigued by this and wanted to see how this turns out. You're usually quite a quiet person in front of them so you getting agitated is new to them, raising your voice and arguing back is something new to them too and they were very interested and curious to see where it goes. Also unbeknown to you they were all surprised that it had taken you this long to actually break and argue back with Jadon. They all thought that it would have happened a lot sooner but they had all underestimated your patience.

“I got passed these clothes and told to give them to you so if they’re wrong blame them don’t just have a go at me like you always do,” You said voice getting incredibly louder.

“It always seems to be you though who messes it up nobody else seems to have that problem,” Jadon retaliated.

“Maybe I’m not the problem because nobody else ever complains. Maybe you’re the problem, have you ever got your head out of your ass to think about that. Not one other person has ever complained to me apart from you. I’d understand if it was every now and then that you complain but it’s every goddamn week and only to me when you get given the same exact stuff by the others,” You shouted at him. He’s actually lucky that’s all you said because you could’ve said a lot worse to him but you love your job and you don’t want to lose it. Actually, you’ve already screamed at one of their players so maybe you should’ve said a lot worse because you’re probably going to get fired anyway. Fired from one of the best jobs you could’ve possibly had.

Having enough of Jadon, plus you were about to cry and you didn’t want anybody else to see that, you shoved his kit into his hands once again along with everything else that you were holding and walked out of the changing room. You didn’t even stop when you got out of the changing room. Nobody tried to stop you either, just allowing you to walk out and go wherever you needed to. They were probably too shocked to follow or just knew that you needed to be alone and get away from Jadon. Somebody else can deal with the rest of the kits that have to be laid out for the team. There isn’t a lot left to do anyway so it’s not like you’ve left and given them an awful lot to do in a short amount of time plus they’ve done it for years so they can sort out the rest of the kits quickly. You just couldn’t be in that room with all of them and Jadon any longer both because of annoyance and embarrassment.

“Y/N,” you heard somebody shout from behind you and you instantly recognised the voice. It was probably the one person that you really didn't want to speak to at that moment but something within you told you to stop so you did. You stopped and waited for Jadon to catch up with you. Why? You have no idea but you did. Maybe you were hoping for an apology of some kind from him. An apology for the hell that he put you through over the past few months, ever since he joined the club. You deserve an apology from him and that’s the most likely reason as to why you stopped. There is no other reason after all.

“I’m sorry,” was all Jadon said to you. You just raised an eyebrow at him. He was trying to apologise and all he said was that he was sorry. Nothing else. Yes, you wanted an apology from him but you wanted one better than that. That was probably the worst apology that you’ve ever received or even heard. Okay not the worst but it was a pretty bad apology. He couldn’t even give you a reason as to why he was treating you like he was and you believe that you at least deserved an explanation as to why he was a prick. You just stayed silent hoping that this would urge Jadon on to give you some proper apology and actually explain why he was acting like he was to you.

“Is that all?” You questioned making yourself sound bored about it like you want to leave which you actually do want to do. You only stopped because you thought that you would get a decent apology but that didn’t happen so now you want to leave, get your thoughts together and decide if you still want to keep this job, if they’ll allow you to keep it obviously. Jadon’s eyes widened a little bit like he thought that you would’ve just forgiven him after that half-assed apology. He opened his mouth again and closed it like he was going to say more but at the same time didn’t know what to say. You had finally started walking away from him when he finally found the words that he wanted to say and started to talk once again.

“I like you alright and I wanted to get your attention and have your attention only on me and none of the other guys,” Jadon finally said, somewhat explaining it to you. It wasn’t fully explained but at least he gave you a little bit of an explanation no matter how bad it is. You just scoffed at that, not believing a word of what he was saying. Well you believed what he was saying to be true but you couldn’t believe that was the only reason he was an absolute prick to you and he thought that it would actually work to get your attention. Yes, it did get your attention but not in the right way.

That was such an inadequate reason for why he did what he did to you. ‘Oh pull her pigtails to show that you like her’. That’s such a childish and stupid concept and something that you should never teach children anyway because it gives them the wrong concept of what love should be. Why do people teach their children that anyway? It basically teaches them that hurting somebody is another way to show them that you love them yet you should never hurt somebody that you love.

“Are you going to say something?” He questioned you. He hated the silence that had settled between the two of you now and he needed you to say something to break it. He didn’t care about the fact that he had to go to training and if he is late there will be a fine to pay and a hefty one nonetheless he needed this to be resolved sooner rather than later. He had hurt you badly and messed everything up and he won’t be able to focus on anything else until he settles this at least a little bit. So yes he has to sort this out for his own mental state but also yours because he has been really rude to you and it must’ve affected you too.

“You’re an asshole. You can’t constantly disagree with me and argue with me about your clothes and anything else that you can-” You started off by saying. You were going to shout at him, insult him, just scream everything that you could at him just to make him understand. He just stood there taking all of the insults that you were throwing at him deserving them all since he did put you through hell and you just took it all never saying a word back to him until today that was.

“You did all that because you like me,” You ended the sentence saying wanting to make sure that you had heard him correctly.

“Yeah,” He responded. He could see the thoughts turning in your head as he said that and he just waited for you to make some sort of sense of it all and understand it all.

“You better make it up to me though,” you told him sternly after a minute or two of silence. After the hell he’s put you through over the last few months he better make it up to you and he has a lot to make up for which is going to be difficult but if he’s being honest about liking you then he’s going to have to make up for everything. If he’s honest and truly likes you then he will do everything to make it up to you.

“Deal and I’ll start with wearing the clothes that you brought me without complaining. Even if you do get it wrong occasionally,” Jadon joked, causing you to raise an eyebrow and him and begin walking away from him once again.

“Joking,” He said, raising his hands up a little bit in a surrendering motion. If he actually wants to be with you then he’s going to have to start watching what he’s saying and how he acts because he’s lucky that you actually gave him this second chance because you don’t do it a lot. He better not mess it up.

MASTERLIST | MORE SANCHO

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results). 

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be. 

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children. 

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy 

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim. 

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do. 

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point! 

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping. 

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex. 

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him. 

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red. 

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!! 

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling. 

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!” 

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out. 

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you. 

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage. 

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her. 

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement. 

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.” 

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos​ - @fairywriter-oracle​ - @tsukishimawh0re​ - @ofstarsanddreams​ - @bbecc-a​ - @annshit​ - @leahh19​ - @letsloveimagines​ - @bellomi-clarke​ - @wineandionysus​ - @guiltydols​ - @onephootinfrontoftheother​ - @liamakorn​ - @thirstyfangirl​ - @lilysdaydreams​ - @pan-ini​ - @mxqicshxp​ - @tanchosanke​ - @yoshinorecommends​ - @flightsandfantasy​ - @liljennyx3​ - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible​ - @sinister-sleep​ - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit​ - @unstableye​ - @simonsbluee​ - @shinyshimaagain​ - @ppopty​ - @siriuslystupid​ - @crapimahuman​ - @ofthedewthesunlight​ - @mythicalamphitrite​ - @artsyally​ - @corpsesimpp​ - @corpsewhitetee​ - @corpse-husbandsimp​ - @hyp-oh-critical​ - @roses-and-grasses​ - @rhyrhy462​ - @sparklylandflaplawyer​ - @charbkgo​ - @airwaveee​ - @creativedogs​ - @kaitlyn2907​ - @loxbbg​ - @afuckingunicornn​ - @fleurmoon​ - @yeolliedokai​

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[aminiatureworld]

Distance

Characters: Childe, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,280

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: This prompt is really fun to write so far but I feel terrible torturing the poor characters like this. Oops.

Childe

The warm wind tickled Childe’s hair, causing the Harbinger to bat a few orange strands out of his face, eyes still pinned on the harbor that was fast approaching. The balmy breeze of Liyue was refreshing – a reminder of all the things he had been missing on his long-drawn-out trip. Now Childe leaned against the railing of the ship, eager to touch land, unable to contain the excitement he felt at the knowledge of what was awaiting him upon the dock.

Though he didn’t like to admit it this trip had been a particularly harrowing one, not just for Childe but for you as well. The post was notoriously touch-and-go across the Seven nations, especially with the deep snows whirling into Snezhnaya this time of year. The fact that he was gone almost a month certainly didn’t help. If he had to admit it Childe had found himself worrying about the time more than usual, worried how it might affect you. Now he was eager to push all those thoughts away, to once more find himself next to you, all well with the world. As the crew bustled around him to prepare the junk for docking the Harbinger took a deep breath in. There was nothing to worry about. Soon all would be well.

The empty dock was a jarring sight. Though saying it was devoid of people wouldn’t technically be accurate, business was going on as usual after all, to Childe it might as well have been a ghost town. Stumbling slightly, suddenly unsure of where to go, Childe climbed up the ramp awkwardly. Finding no one waiting for him on the stone pier as well, anxiety began to coil in Childe’s stomach. Had something happened? Ignoring the thoughts that flurried through his mind he quickly wove his way through the streets of Liyue. Though the city was bustling as always, laughter and shouting echoing through the air as people haggled and joked and went about their business, Childe found himself disconnected from his surroundings. His only thought was to find you, hopefully safe and sound and happy to see him.

There was no sign of anything wrong as Childe approached the door to your shared apartment. Sighing softly he dug around in his pack for the keys. You’d probably just fallen asleep, having recently taken up the habit of afternoon naps, according to your letters. Childe couldn’t really complain if that were the case, after all rest was important and you could hardly be blamed for not being aware of the time while conked out. Yes, surely you were asleep. Then Childe could give you the surprise of waking next to him. A smirk graced Childe’s lips at the thought of it, and as he turned the key in the lock he reassured himself. There was nothing to be worried about.

Unfortunately the Harbinger’s genius hypothesis had proven to be a false one. A quick scouring of the apartment revealed that you were not there, and no signs of any abnormal activity could be found as an explanation. Anxiety seeping into Childe’s mind he barely set down his pack before bolting out of the door, trying somewhat unconvincingly to keep his pace to a fast walk. Had something happened to you? Surely not! Childe knew you, knew that you could very well take care of yourself. He shouldn’t worry.

Still the thought passed through his head, combined with an even more unpleasant one. Had you simply forgotten about him? What if you didn’t care? Shaking his head the Harbinger took in a deep breath. He was overthinking things, still stuck in the mindset of a Harbinger. Not everything in life was a battle, hadn’t you told him that many times, teasing his constant need to see an obstacle to beat somewhere? He really should take your advice more seriously, at least in this case. Slowly down slightly Childe walked to the city center. He was sure his answer would be here; and that it would be so mundane as to not bother a second thought.

His pulse jumped in his throat as you finally entered his field of vision. You were sitting around with a few people, coworkers if the Guild crest and weaponry didn’t serve him wrong, chatting and smiling and overall having a wonderful time. Emotions stirred through Childe, the urge to run up to you, to stalk away, to find the nearest fountain and jump into it; but he stayed put, staring at your laughing face, pain flashing in his chest. He supposed he should’ve felt angry, felt like he’d been stood up. Instead all he felt was sadness, sadness and guilt.

Finally turning around Childe plodded back down the street, steps slow and sluggish. What did he expect really, for you to wait around for him forever? How was that fair? There was no reason you shouldn’t grow sick of waiting, shouldn’t want more out of your life. You were perfectly within your rights to want such a thing. Yet the pain continued, spreading throughout his chest until Childe felt like his lungs were on fire and his throat was crumpled in a fist of his own making.

Arriving back at the apartment a supernatural urge seemed to seize the Harbinger. Pack, he needed to pack. He wouldn’t burden you anymore, wouldn’t continue to strain your emotions by hanging around like a phantom. Luckily Childe wasn’t the kind of person to own a lot of things. Not that you really were either, between the both of you purchases mainly went into gifts for each other rather than personal buys. Childe now stood looking down at some of the things you’d bought or made for him. Scarves, books, a stuffed animal that had reminded you of his Delusion; all of these things lay peacefully on the shelf, giving the books behind them a slightly trapped looked. It was so homey and so comforting that Childe found tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

Wiping his eyes roughly the Harbinger collapsed onto the couch. What was he doing? Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just wait for you to come home, wait and see where you two really were. But it seemed unfair to do that. After all, what kind of sleazy person left their partner for a month then begged for their love and attention right after coming home? It was completely within your rights to want more, hadn’t Childe already made that clear to himself? And yet it hurt, it hurt so much. How had he managed to mess this all up, to let the thing most precious to him fall out of his hands? He had been so careless.

Giving himself up to his emotions Childe let the pooling tears stream down his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed so very heavy. Closing his eyes for a moment Childe sighed. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes before returning to his packing. Yet the familiar comfort of the couch beckoned to him, and soon fatigue overwhelmed him, dragging him down into the realm of sleep. Thankfully, he dreamt of nothing.

“Childe what are you doing?!”

Lurching up Childe glanced around wildly, hands automatically moving to summon his weapon. For a few seconds he found himself utterly confused, unable to comprehend where he was or what was going on. Soon enough however, the situation came crashing back to him and the Harbinger lowered his weapon. Glancing up at you he braced himself for whatever was going to happen next.

Well you certainly seemed upset, though not exactly in the way Childe might have expected. Instead of anger there seemed something more akin to panic in your eyes, and the red patches on your face certainly pointed to distress more than anything else.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong, you tell me that!” You took in a few erratic breaths, but your tone remained panicky. “Why are you packing? Do you have another trip? Why are you leaving?”

“I, I thought that it would be easier if I just left.” Childe lowered his head, unable to look you in the eyes. “I figured that I would spare you the pain of having to kick me out yourself.”

“Why in Teyvat would I kick you out?” You sat down on the couch next to Childe, and he could feel your eyes piercing through him. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t see you at the docks when I returned.” Childe paused, gathering his thoughts. “At first I thought that you’d just fallen asleep or something but you weren’t home. And when I saw you out with your friends, well it made me realize how distant I’ve really been; physically, emotionally, everything. I realized that, and I realized that you deserved better, that I hadn’t been doing enough. I realized that you deserve more, deserve a partner who will always be there for you, who you won’t always have to be waiting for.”

“Oh Ajax.” You whispered softly.

Raising his head Childe could see no relief in your expression. Instead sadness was plainly plastered upon your face. Reaching out your hands you let Childe slump against you, carding your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry my darling, I thought you were coming back tomorrow. That’s why I was out. I would never think such a thing as abandoning you,” you spoke softly, tone achingly soft, “I mean it. Our relationship isn’t conventional, that’s true; but I would never trade it for anything. I would never think that you weren’t giving enough, I know how hard you work and how much you put into everything you know. Believe me Ajax, I don’t begrudge you any distance, I’ve never lacked love from you.”

“But what if one day you want something more,” Childe couldn’t help but ask, “what if one day letters aren’t enough? What if one day, what if one day I’m not enough?”

“I promise that will never happen,” you let out a soft sigh, “really Ajax you hold yourself too cheaply. You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, or underestimate me for that matter. You will always be enough for me. There will never be a day I want anything or anyone different, and if need be I will remind you of that every. single. day.”

Punctuation the last three words with kisses to Childe’s head you smiled as he titled his face up to gaze into yours. Though the panic had evaporated from you there was still sadness, and for a moment Childe felt guilt wash over him, guilt that he had caused you so many trials and that he hadn’t even had the courage to face you about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Although I do appreciate you understanding that almost stealing out into the night nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Not my brightest moment.” Childe admitted.

“Perhaps not,” you laughed, “I mean really, you’d think that it was the second act of a tragedy or something, and not one I’d like to participate in.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! Just don’t do it again, or next time I’ll get genuinely angry, and then you won’t get off the hook so easily.”

Childe pressed his lips to yours, another unspoken apology. Though you let out a small huff of impatience you nevertheless leaned into the kiss, smiling against his lips as you let your hands drift from his hair to his shoulders.

That night Childe lay awake, listening to the soft cadence of your breath, indulging in the feeling of peace that lay over him. Though he knew that his worries and insecurities would never truly leave him, Childe nonetheless felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe one days his fears would come true, maybe one day this life wouldn’t be enough. But “ifs” and “maybes” weren’t guarantees, and until that day happened Childe would cherish the time he spent with you.

Besides, Childe trusted no one as much as he trusted you. If you said that such a day would never come to pass, then surely you were right.

  Kaeya

You were working late again.

Kaeya supposed that it shouldn’t have bothered him, but then again he also supposed that almost anyone would feel somewhat uneasy if their colleague and partner was suddenly avoiding them like the plague.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much in Kaeya’s mind. Of course, if this were some sort of habit then he would hardly mind; but after months of making it a tradition to always walk home together, well, safe to say the whole thing didn’t sit well. Nor was it simply a matter of you staying to work late, even the days where you finished earlier than him it seemed that you were always dashing off somewhere, leaving him painfully out of the loop.

Now Kaeya stood across the room from you, fingers drumming on his arm, face carefully hiding the irritation and concern that rose up inside him, threatening to spill over.

“I’m really sorry Kaeya!” Your tone was sincere, and the apology in your eyes seemed genuine enough. “It’s just that Jean asked me to look over the ledgers for the infantry. You know the captain is out this week, but Jean didn’t want to have to owe the City and the soldiers in terms of late funds. I promise it won’t take that long, I’ll be done as fast as I can.”

“Why don’t I help you with it?” Kaeya could feel the sarcasm sweetening his tone, attempted to rein it in he stared at you silently.

“You’ve been working so hard, I wouldn’t want to bother you with extra work.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother at all. Anything for my dear partner.”

“Really, it’s fine!” You twisted your hands, a nervous habit that Kaeya had long ago picked up on. “I’ll be done in time for dinner. And then we can the new recipe you’ve been telling me about; okay?”

“Very well.”

“Thanks for understanding!”

Though you seemed happy enough by the proposition Kaeya noticed how fast your head moved to the papers on your desk. Closing the door behind him he heard you let out a loud sigh. Clenching his hands, as if to remind himself that he was still in a semi-public setting, Kaeya stalked out of the Knight’s Headquarters. The thoughts in his head felt like static, and he worried that if he remained still for one more moment it would swallow him up.

Walking the streets of Mondstadt, Kaeya tried to reflect back upon the past few weeks. Had he done something wrong? Wracking his brain for any serious disputes Kaeya came up frustratingly emptyhanded. If you had fought over something this whole debacle would be one thing. Kaeya had a temper of his own, and petty acts of anger was something he admittedly struggled with often enough. He could hardly fault you if you acted in a similar way, or at least not without admitting to his own faults.

And yet nothing had happened, nothing that might cause such a dispute. Clenching his hands one more, aware that his knuckles must’ve been bone white, Kaeya let his thoughts drift to darker waters. What if you were just sick of him? It was certainly plausible, or at least Kaeya thought so. It would certainly explain why you now seemed to be avoiding him like the plague outside of work.

The thought hurt, as it might well do, but surprisingly most of the pain didn’t come from the idea itself, but from the idea that you wouldn’t tell him such a thing. You falling out of love with Kaeya would be been incredibly painful. You not trusting him enough to the point you were simply avoiding him, well the thought was enough to knock the wind out of him. Did you really think so ill of him? The idea filled Kaeya with smoldering rage and indignation – fueled in no little part by the fact that Kaeya ultimately might agree with you. Usually thoughts like those were the kinds you hated, the kinds you chased away with a stick, assuring Kaeya that no matter his past decisions he was still worthwhile. But you weren’t here now, and those dark thoughts were now kindling for the fire that burned in Kaeya’s mind.

By the time he’d reached the apartment Kaeya was almost sure of his hypothesis. Though a small part of his brain reminded him that he was working of a diet of sleep deprivation and anger, such logical thinking was easy enough to shrug off. After all, the signs were there. You were evidently getting quite sick of him, it was hardly Kaeya’s fault that he caught on.

Throwing his equipment on the floor, not bothering to even put his sword up on its stand, the Cavalry Captain walked towards the kitchen. What he needed was drink, maybe even two. Really if it were up to him he’d spend the next hour or so getting as drunk as possible before passing out in the tub. Thankfully though his reason hadn’t completely left him, and Kaeya managed to limit himself to two and a half glasses of cider. He needed to be at least on the side of sober for the conversation that was bound to pass once you came home after all.

The lateness of the hour in which you arrived felt like a personal insult, though really it was only 21:00 or so.

“Kaeya?” You called out, whipping the Cavalry Captain out of his thoughts.

Stepping into the kitchen the grin on your face was a stark contrast to the emotions that swirled in Kaeya’s mind. Hands clasped behind your back you stood in the doorframe as if expecting something. You’d probably be in for a nasty surprise. Kaeya smiled sweetly at you, words burning in his mouth, mixing with the alcohol. This was a bad idea.

“How was the paperwork?”

“The paperwork? Oh! It was boring enough I suppose. I kept getting distracted though, I really should’ve had you there, you could’ve kept me from nodding off.”

“I’m sure I would have. Tell me something my dear, I have a question that’s been burning in my mind.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me why it is that out lovely Acting Grandmaster asked you to go over the ledgers when I was assigned to that exact thing yesterday?”

Ignoring the blotches of red that immediately spread across your cheeks Kaeya stood up. Carefully going to clean the glass he’d been using he stared into the sink, not trusting himself to look at you. If he did all the words he wanted to say would fly out at once, and something that probably shouldn’t be said with them.

“Did she ask you that? How odd! She must’ve wanted a second pair of eyes or something, I guess.”

“Are my eyes not good enough?”

“Kaeya, you know I wasn’t insulting your work.” A sort of shocked irritation ran through your voice. “You’re the best knight in Mondstadt after all.”

“Oh really? Well if you think so highly of me then why have you been avoiding me so much?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Then let me ask a different question; when was the last time we walked home together?”

“I don’t know, a week and a half ago?”

“Try two and a half.” Kaeya finally turned around, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Indignation shot through your words as you shook your head. “I’m just busy recently.”

“Busy with made up work.”

“It’s not made up!”

“Oh really, then tell me what was your work last night?”

“I had to oil the bow strings for my regiment.”

“They couldn’t do it themselves according to protocol?”

“Not the new recruits they couldn’t!”

“Then what about the day before?”

“Kaeya!” You finally burst out. “I don’t know why you’re so quick to find fault with me right now! Just tell me what you’re getting at, if you’re going to insult me you might as well do it head on.”

A part of him admired you for wanting to look at the problem right in the face, another part of him thought of how well you knew him, how attuned you were to his moods. Just as he had figured out that you were avoiding him, so could you tell that his jabs were a misdirection. It was almost funny really, seeing the things you both had picked up about one another now used at the end.

“Fine.” Kaeya crossed his arms, hoping his expression was at least somewhat neutral. “It seems obvious to me that you’ve been avoiding me, and that you no longer want my company. What I am getting at is the fact that you want to break up, and that you evidently trust me so little with that fact that the only solution you’ve come up with is to avoid me.”

Your face went slack with shock, pupils turning to pinpricks as you stumbled backwards. Finally letting your arms fall to your sides you grabbed the side of the doorframe, as if unable to process what he just come out of your partner’s mouth.

“What?”

“Do you really trust me so little?” Kaeya pressed on, feeling his emotions begin to spill over. “Am I really so untrustworthy that you can’t even tell me you want to end things? Am I, am I really that untrustworthy?”

Everything seemed to be going all wrong. Kaeya had expected you to immediately fess up, had expected guilt and relief and then the end. Instead all he got was incredulous silence, incredulous silence and a look that screamed utter and total disbelief.

“Do you really think that I would do that to you?”

The question was a simple enough one, one that anyone might ask during a conversation of this nature. Still your tone was so dispassionate that Kaeya couldn’t help but pause. Did he really think that you would do such a thing? His anger certainly thought so, helped a great deal by his current buzzed state. All that aside however, did he really think that? When he woke up tomorrow, would these thoughts still be swirling through his head, these angry thoughts that threatened to burn through his happiness.

“I don’t know.” It was the best answer he could give.

“Then why would you accuse me of something you weren’t even sure of?”

“I…”

“Kaeya have you really thought so little about what you just told me?”

He almost wanted to apologize for how stupid his words seemed in retrospect.

“Would it help you if I told you where I actually was?”

Your voice was still quiet, but not entirely closed. Nodding stiffly Kaeya felt his fingers still.

“Very well. You were right about one thing, I wasn’t actually checking the ledgers for Jean; and I wasn’t oiling bowstrings all day either, I mean our troops should know how to do that at least. But you made one mistake in your judgement Kaeya, the idea that I was avoiding you. In truth I was gathering materials, I wanted to make a new sword for you. Your current one is so brittle and since I know you don’t want to use the sword you were given as an heirloom, well I thought that I wouldn’t wait for your current one to break and that your new one would be a present.”

“…I see.”

It was all Kaeya could get out; how else could he reply? Shame and guilt mingled within his mind, quickly dousing any anger that he might’ve felt. He really fucked up this one didn’t he. He let his emotions slip once more and now he had made a fool of himself. More than that he had refused to trust you, had ended up doing the exact thing he had just accused you of. Now what was there to do? He couldn’t exactly slink away with his dignity; even if he had managed to retain that, there weren’t many places to go.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Kaeya jerked his head up from the spot he’d been examining on the floor, confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. You stared into his eyes, shrugging slightly.

“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry Kaeya, I should’ve come up with a better method. I didn’t mean to make you worried, or to make you feel like I wanted to no longer associate with you. Believe me that’s the last thing I want to do. So I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

“I was the one who accused you of all those things that weren’t true.”

“You did. I’m not very happy about that to be honest; you’re going to be doing some serious penance for the next week. I just figured that before that I would apologize. Then we could be even. Okay?”

Reaching out your hand Kaeya finally noticed what you’d been hiding. The windwheel aster was slightly limp, the breeze that gave it its beauty nowhere to be found. Nevertheless it seemed at the moment the most beautiful flower in the world. Walking over to you Kaeya tentatively took the flower in his hand. Smiling softly he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’m sorry.”

Tomorrow he’d start making it up to you. Tomorrow he wouldn’t listen to his demons, wouldn’t let his own lack of self-worth hurt you. Tomorrow he would do better by you and more. Today he would say sorry.

After all, he had plenty of time.

[pascalpanic]

Fixer Upper PART ONE (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: Nothing seems to go right in your new house. When yet another thing breaks, a certain handyman comes to your rescue.

W/C: 2k ish

Warnings: language, joking mentions of a house being cursed (it isn’t), reader has dirty thoughts bc it’s Frankie and he’s hot

A/N: this one goes out to my anons who’ve been sending me stuff about frankie as a repairman! I loved the idea and I thought it would be super fun to write! This will be part ONE of three-ish! ps idk if any references to reader’s gender are in this part but there certainly will be some in the future so.

It’s been a while that you’ve lived in this house. Since that day you hauled in the cardboard boxes, you’ve been feeling that your life is the epitome of Murphy’s law. Or rather, this damned house is.

Nothing ever goes right. The heat breaks in the winter and the air conditioning breaks in the summer. The plumbing needs work when you need it to work, and the oven only ever breaks halfway through cooking something. Seriously, you swear this place is cursed by some hex determined to pester you out of living here.

You’ve never exactly been the handy type. You don’t know much about mechanics, heating or cooling, the electricity and wiring in your house, any of it. By now, you wish you’d taken the time to learn it at some point rather than hiring someone every time.

The first sign was that the June heat seemed inescapable. You’d been outside all day, and you figured it was just your body taking its time to adjust to the cooler, indoor temperature. Then you never cooled down. When you stepped out of the bathroom after a shower and found the air to be nearly as muggy as that of the steamed bathroom, you realized that the air conditioning must be off.

Well, it was on. The problem was that it wasn’t working. You opened all the windows, and figured the night breeze would cool you, then you became worried about serial killers and crimes and promptly shut and locked all of them again. With the fan in your bedroom on, the air at least moved, but was still thick and heavy.

In the morning, when you wake with no blankets on and sweaty sheets, you dial the repair company as fast as you can. You inform them of the situation, and they tell you they’ll send someone out your way in the next hour or two.

The air is still somewhat cool outside, so you give the front porch a shot once you get changed out of your pajamas and take yet another cool shower. The heavy dew is an indicator of just how humid the air is, and you relish every little breeze that passes by and cools you down. You conduct your morning business outside, hoping to have this problem fixed before the sun reaches a height where the temperatures will rise exponentially.

About an hour after the call, the repair van rolls up into your driveway and parks. “Thank God,” you murmur to yourself.

Your focus returns to your computer, but you hear the door slam shut and look up to find the repairman there. He wears khaki cargo pants and a gray t-shirt, complete with a ball cap on top, with dark brown curls peeking out from the bottom. He fastens his tool belt around his waist as he walks up to the porch. “Hey there. I’m Frankie. I’ll be taking care of you today,” he informs you, a kind smile on his face. You already like him. “I got the basics from the boss, but can you tell me more about the problem?”

Looking up at him from the seated position you’re in, you give an awkward smile. Suddenly, you wish you’re better dressed, fixed up and looking nice. Even in work clothes, this man is beautiful. It makes you a little nervous, you in your pajamas and him looking like a god even in cargo pants. “I wish I could, but I don’t know anything about the air conditioner and how it works other than how to change the settings. All I know is that it isn’t working.”

He gives a good-natured chuckle, a soft bounce of his chest beneath the shirt. He looks down at his tool belt and his scruff brushes against the collar of the gray. “Well, let’s go give it a shot. I’ll need you to show me around, show me the control panel and the main system.” God, he’s handsome.

“Oh, of course,” you nod and stand, leaving your laptop on the small table. “Well, right this way. And please, you don’t need to take your boots off. Those look complicated,” you laugh as you look at the heavy tan boots at the bottom of his body.

Frankie nods and looks around as you lead him through the house. He doesn’t take his boots off, since you insisted, but he does give them a generous wipe on the doormat, careful not to track anything in. “It’s a beautiful place,” he tells you honestly, with a half-smile that just tugs at one of the corners of his ridiculously soft-looking lips.

“Thanks,” you shrug and show him to the control panel. “I try. Okay, here’s the button thingy.”

“The button thingy?” he teases, which leads to laughter from the both of you.

“If I knew what it was called, you wouldn’t be here,” you tease him back and shake your head.

Frankie uses the tools from his belt to take off the casing. You lean against the wall as he works, admiring the way his hands nimbly check the wires and paneling behind it. He holds a small flashlight between his teeth to look into the wall cavity.

“I can hold that for you,” you offer, and he moves his mouth for you to take it from him.

“Thanks,” he says, popping his jaw slightly to adjust from the awkward angle of holding it between his teeth. “You don’t have to. I’m just here to fix it.”

You point it at the same spot. “I might as well be some help, considering I don’t know shit about my own house.”

Frankie laughs at that, stealing a glance your way that makes your face warm before his gaze returns to the electrical situation. “Well,” he declares after a few seconds. “The wiring must not be the problem here. This all is working fine, so it must be with the actual system.”

“Great,” you groan. “The part I know even less about.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he chuckles and screws the panel back into place on your wall, making sure everything works properly and he didn’t mess with any functions.

Leading Frankie to your basement, you show him the cluttered laundry room and the central air conditioning unit. He’s already analyzing the system, and you back off to let him work. He looks focused. “Holler if you need me,” you tell him as he gets on his knees to look at something, daring to gently pat his shoulder. It’s strong, muscular beneath your palm.

Heading back to the kitchen, you open the fridge and sigh. For a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes and just enjoy the cold air it produces. Hopefully, your house will be the same soon enough. Grabbing two tall glasses, you fill each with ice before pouring half sweet tea and half lemonade into the glasses.

You stand in the kitchen with the freezer open, sighing at the cool air it provides. Not sure how long he’ll take, you scroll through your phone. It’s surprisingly quick, you find.

“Hey, I found it!” Frankie calls from the basement.

Carrying the two glasses, you return to the laundry room to find him reorganizing his tool belt. “Here,” you tell him with a smile as you hold out the drink. “Least I could do. It’s unbearable in here.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and lifts the glass to you in a miniature salute before taking a sip. Frankie then launches into a detailed explanation of the issue with the A/C unit, using all kinds of terms you don’t understand and mentioning parts you didn’t even know were included in the machine. “I got it all fixed up, though, and it shouldn’t take long before it’s working just as good as normal.”

You sigh in relief, swallowing the sweet drink and smiling at him. “God, thank you so much. You don’t even know how awful it was in here.”

“If it’s anything like right now, I do,” he chuckles. The man takes the hem of his t-shirt and lifts it to wipe his face, revealing a muscular but soft body beneath it, with a beautiful little trail of dark hair leading to beneath his belt. Is it terrible that your first thought is that you want to lick it?

You force the image from your mind with another swig of the drink. “Yeah, just about. Well, how much do I owe you?” You ask the man, leading him out of the laundry room and into the basement that’s already feeling cooler.

“Oh, nothing right now,” he shakes his head as you lead him upstairs and to the kitchen. “I just tweaked some things for you, didn’t need any parts or anything, so it’s just gonna be labor.” He seems to remember something. “Ah, shit. I gotta have you sign something. I’ll grab the paper from the van and be right back,” he tells you and leaves his drink on the counter, half-jogging outside.

While he’s outside, you lean against the cool kitchen counter and let yourself daydream. This Frankie guy certainly is attractive, and his personality is definitely something you’re interested in. What if the situation right now played out like a porno, and he fucked you on the countertop? You certainly wouldn’t complain. You noticed his hands and feet are large. Certainly he must be big somewhere else too. “Oh Jesus Christ,” you murmur to yourself. Why did my mind have to go there? And why is the thought so hot? He’s a sweet man too, clearly goofy and sweet. Why is your mind going there then? Really, upon further pondering, you just want to hug the man, admire his strong body pressed to yours in an intimate but innocent gesture.

“Sorry, what was that?” Frankie calls out as he walks into the house again.

His voice snaps you from your daydreaming. “Oh, just talking to myself,” you say quickly and cheerfully, taking the paper from him. The top is printed with repairman name: Francisco Morales. Francisco. That makes you smile. What a cute name. The rest is filled with the details of what he did to the machine to fix it, and you sign and date at the bottom. “Here you go, Francisco.”

His tanned skin turns a little pinker on the cheeks. “Great,” Frankie smiles and takes it back.

“Before you leave,” you tell him quickly, darting to grab your purse from the entryway, “here.”

Frankie walks to you and you hand him a generous cash tip, with a stupid smile stuck to your face. “Thank you, wow,” he says, voice honest in its surprise as he notices the total of the money.

“Of course. I really can’t thank you enough. God, it’s been painfully hot in here and I really just can’t stand the heat,” you ramble, your voice speeding up. “And… yeah. Thank you. For your company, too.”

“Just doing my job,” he tells you with a smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “Oh, here.”

From his pocket, he pulls a little rectangle of paper with his name and company on it. “The shop number is on here; if anything changes, just call and ask for Catfish.”

“Catfish?” You ask with a smile, puzzled.

“My old military nickname. It’s what the guys around there call me,” he shrugs, shy at the nickname.

It makes you laugh a little, and you tuck the card in your purse. “Well, Catfish, thank you. I’ll be sure to use this next time I have some stupid thing I can’t repair myself.”

“Please do,” he chuckles, a shy smile on his face. “I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks!” You call again and cringe. That’s, what, the ninth time you’ve said that now? He walks to the van and you give him a wave before retreating back inside. God, now you can’t wait for this shitty house to need another repair. You’ll certainly be asking for Catfish.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal

[alwaysmarveling]

Rock Band

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Not too sure how I feel about this one, but it’s Wanda so hopefully you guys enjoy it (also I miss playing Rock Band)!!

“You ready for game night, Bird Boy?” Bucky winked.

“You bet, old man. I’m going to crush you, just you wait.” Sam smiled at Bucky with a glint in his eye and mischief clear in his voice. “You guys coming?” Sam turned to look at you and your girlfriend. “The theme is Wii games. Even Thor is coming.” You looked at Wanda for confirmation before answering.

“Yeah, sounds fun. Don’t know if we have the same need for total domination as you losers, though.” Tony laughed from his position in the chair next to you.

“Just you wait, kiddo. You’ll get into it. They all do.”

“Even if I do, I doubt it’ll be that hard to take a bunch of grandpas down,” you winked at the men before scooping some salad into your mouth.

“Since when am I a grandpa?” Sam scoffed.

“Since you became old, which, according to my calculations, has been… oh, right, always. Grandpa in spirit.”

“Well this grandpa is going to beat your ass, so just prepare yourself,” Sam challenged.

“I personally would like to go back to the ‘losers’ thing,” Steve countered. “The only loser is going to be you. Do you even know what games we’re going to be playing, Y/N?”

“Nah, but I figure whatever it is I’ll win,” you smirked.

“Oh, someone’s feeling cocky today. I’d be scared if I were you.” You turned your head slightly to your right, noting how Wanda’s lips curled upwards at Steve’s warning. “Nat has yet to be defeated in Mario Kart, and I, for one, am pretty decent at Smash Bros.”

“You’re on,” you winked at him, the table beginning to clear out. “See you tonight.”

When everyone had left the table but you and Wanda, you turned to your girlfriend. “I suck at Mario Kart. And Smash Bros,” you whined, burying your face into the crook of her neck. “What got into me?” Wanda laughed and ran a hand down your arm.

“You’re too competitive for your own good, detka. If it makes you feel better, Nat already knows you’re bad at Mario Kart,” Wanda smiled, reflecting on the many game nights the three of you and Carol had had together over the years.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better. I’m going to be a loser,” you complained, your voice muffled.

“You’ll be fine, babe. You’re good at, um... What's that game called again?”

“Mario Party 8?”

“Yeah, that one!”

“I can’t win game night with one game, Wanda.”

“Well, you’re always a winner in my book,” your girlfriend reassured you as she played with your fingers.

“Cute, Wan,” you huffed. “Maybe there is a way I could be a winner…” you smiled. When Wanda began to shake her head furiously, you began to beg. “Please, baby, you don’t have to do a lot. Just distract them a little? Please? Pretty please?”

“As much as I love you, Y/N, there is no way I’m messing with their minds just so you can win a game night.”

“I guess you have a point,” you sighed, making sure the fake sadness was clear in your voice. Wanda only laughed, brushing your cheek with the back of her hand.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Besides, if you win, I can’t kiss away your pout.”

“But if I win, you can kiss me as a little ‘good job,’ you know?”

“You’re cute when you pout, though.”

“Am I not cute when I’m smiling from the pure joy of winning?”

“Weren’t you just saying you didn’t want ‘total domination’ less than five minutes ago?”

“Don’t change the subject,” you grumbled. Wanda chuckled, pressing her lips to your forehead.

“Sorry, printsessa. You’d better go practice if you want to try to win tonight.”

“I suppose,” you mumbled, pulling away from the witch. “You’re going to help me, though, right?” Your girlfriend pecked you on the lips, causing a smile to slowly form on your face.

“Of course.”

---

Later that night, you and Wanda were sprawled across your bed watching the first show that played when you turned on the TV. Your head laid in Wanda’s lap as Wanda traced invisible patterns in your hair and along your face.

“Okay, but why is ‘womb’ pronounced ‘woom’?” you spoke up. “Shouldn’t it be ‘wom’? You know, like ‘bomb’? Or what about ‘tomb’? Why is it pronounced like that? Who said that putting a ‘b’ at the end of the word makes the ‘o’ long for some words but not others?” Wanda brought her gaze down from the screen to your face, her brows furrowed and nose scrunched.

“What the heck even made you think of that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “I’ve just been thinking.”

“Maybe you should be thinking a little less, printsessa,” Wanda giggled, drawing a swirl on your cheek with the tip of her finger.

“That tickles, Wan.” That didn’t stop the witch, who simply pinched your cheek before resuming her tracing. “But I thought you liked my thinking. I have some pretty good thoughts,” you defended yourself, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Like ‘what would happen if the French used the Statue of Liberty like the Trojan Horse?’” Wanda raised her eyebrows.

“It was a hypothetical!”

“A pretty bad one, if you ask me.”

“Well sorry, Miss Smartypants.”

“You can be smart too, dorogaya. You just… have your moments,” she winked at you.

“I hate you,” you grumbled, turning away from her so that you were facing the flashing screen, images playing across it but neither of you really sure—or caring—what was going on.

“You love me.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, I-”

“Guys, game night is starting,” Tony knocked at your door.

“Okay, we’ll be down in a second,” Wanda told him. You didn’t listen for if he had left, instead turning your gazes back to each other.

“Okay, maybe I do love you a little bit.” Wanda raised her brows, her finger now running along your lower lip.

“Only a little?”

“I might be able to be persuaded otherwise, but as of right now, yes, a little.” Wanda hummed before leaning down to join your lips.

“What about now?” she asked, her lips brushing yours as she spoke.

“I love you a medium bit.” She kissed you again, this time a little longer than the last.

“And now?”

“I love you a lot a bit,” you whispered. Wanda smiled, giving you one last kiss before sitting back up.

“I love you a lot a bit too. Now, let’s get down to the living room. I believe we have a bunch of ‘grandpas’ waiting for us.”

---

“Wanda, Y/N, I missed you. How has life been treating you on Earth?” Thor waved at the two of you. You guys had little time to wave back, let alone respond, before Tony spotted you.

“There they are,” Tony clapped his hands together. “We were just about to get started. First on the agenda is Smash Bros because this one,” he aggressively pointed in Steve’s direction, “said he needs to go to bed before 1. Party pooper.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Some of us just don’t want to destroy our entire sleep schedule in one night.” He turned away from Tony to face the two of you, holding out one controller. “We’ve got one spot left, who’s playing?”

---

More than three hours later, the clock read 11 PM and the group of you had made it through several games. As you expected, you hadn’t won anything, but Wanda held her own in Smash Bros and was actually close to beating Nat in Mario Kart at one point (that didn’t last long, but you were proud nonetheless). Thor beat you all at Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games, but with all the jumping and yelling going on at the time, you weren’t sure the tower would hold up long enough for you guys to actually finish the game.

“Are you planning on winning any time soon, Y/N?” Nat winked at you from her spot on the couch, one leg resting above the couch and the other bent at the knee on a cushion.

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed. “You know that I suck at video games.” No one else could hear your conversation with the chaos going on over Cooking Mama. That’s right, Cooking Mama.

“I actually thought you were playing us the first couple game nights. And then I finally realized you were just that bad,” Natasha chuckled, quickly having to dodge the pillow you’d thrown in her direction.

“Would it kill you to sit normally for once?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “Yes, it would.”

“How’re you doing, babe? Not too upset yet?” Wanda joined you on the couch with a peck to your cheek.

“Doing just dandy, Wan. See, I can be a good sport.” The witch laughed.

“I’ll check back in with you in an hour.”

“Hey, ladies, we were going to play Rock Band. You guys interested?” Bucky held up the controllers.

“Who won Cooking Mama?” you asked, a smirk clearly written across your face. Bucky rolled his eyes before responding.

“Clint. Now are you guys joining, or what?”

“Mm, I think I’m going to grab a drink. I’ll enjoy the show for a little bit first,” you winked as you slowly rose from the couch.

“She’s only saying that because she doesn’t want to lose,” Sam scoffed. “Y/N’s just upset she can’t deliver on her promise to beat us all.”

“Just you wait for Mario Party 8, Sam. Just you wait.”

“We don’t have that game,” Bruce whispered to you apologetically. “We let Peter borrow it for the weekend. Sorry, Y/N.”

“Are you serious?” You threw your hands up.

“Coward,” Clint teased, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Oh, calm down, Clint. Rock Band doesn’t even have a winner,” Nat chastised.

“Yes, it does! Whoever gets the highest score wins.” The redhead simply rolled her eyes before winking at you.

“Alright, I’m in. Put me on guitar. You coming, Wan?” Natasha turned to her.

“I’m a bit exhausted from the last game. Soon, though,” the witch promised.

“You want anything, babe?”

“A water would be nice,” Wanda smiled at you. “Thank you, detka.”

“Of course.” You squeezed her hand before heading toward the kitchen.

“How come you didn’t ask any of us if we wanted anything?”

“Okay, Sam,” you turned, crossing your arms, “Do you guys want anything?” A chorus of “no’s” echoed through the room. You shook your head, letting out a puff of air before continuing into the kitchen and grabbing one water for you and your girlfriend.

After a small argument over the song choice, Sam, Bucky, Nat, and Tony were all jamming out to ‘Say It Ain’t So,’ and you couldn’t help but laugh from your position on the couch. Wanda’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you close to her, not that you were complaining. You appreciated the body heat, and her, of course.

Sam did have a pretty decent voice, you had to admit. You didn’t think he’d get so into it, but it was quite entertaining.

Speaking of entertaining, it was extremely difficult to hold in a giggle every time you looked at Bucky. Not that he was bad at it—he was surprisingly very good—but it was obvious he’d spent hours playing this game. Eyes closed, head shaking frantically side to side, and cheeks rosy, one might’ve thought Bucky was actually playing at a concert. You were sure Bucky had his part memorized, which was quite a lot for a guy who was still complaining about all the “confusing, new technology nowadays.”

Nat couldn’t be farther from the opposite of the Winter Soldier. As one might expect, she was hitting every note, but from the look on her face, you had a harder time going up the stairs without tripping than she was having playing the game.

And Tony, well, you didn’t really know what to expect with him, but it certainly wasn’t this. For a guy with all the charisma in the world, you thought he would’ve been more… coordinated. He dropped a drumstick at least twice already, and he could never seem to hit the pedal when he had to use the sticks at the same time.

Unfortunately for you, the song quickly came to a close and a new distraction arose—you.

“Y/N, no avoiding it any longer. C’mon, get up here. Which one do you want to be?” You glanced reluctantly at Wanda before answering. If you wanted to play to win, your best bet was singing, but none of the Avengers, including Wanda, had heard you before, and you were in no rush to change that. At the same time, your girlfriend was right; you definitely had a competitive side to you, and seeing the looks on the guys’ faces when you won would be a glorious sight. But maybe it wasn’t all about winning, after all, Wanda had promised you a kiss…

“Put her on the mic,” Natasha smirked. She removed the strap of the toy guitar from her neck before handing it to Steve. Before you could protest, the microphone was shoved into your hands and someone pushed you towards the front of the room.

“Good luck, Y/N,” you barely heard Wanda call from behind you, more worried about what you were going to do.

“Okay, so, Steve and I will be on guitar and bass, Thor on drums, and Y/N on mic. We ready?” Bucky scanned the room for approval. When everyone except for you nodded, he went to choose a song.

“‘Wanted Dead or Alive?’ Really, Buck?” Steve shook his head.

“It’s a good song,” he shrugged, moving to his spot next to Steve. “Should we show them how it’s done?”

“Ha, funny of you to think you’ll win,” Thor boomed, rubbing the drum sticks together.

“Y/N? You’re awfully quiet.” Sam smirked.

“Oh, shut up, Big Bird. Let’s just get this over with.” The man held up his hands in surrender as he backed away from you slowly.

As the first few measures of the song passed, you made a decision. Screw what the rest of the Avengers thought, you were going for it. You took a deep breath as the words rolled across the screen.

“It’s all the same, only the names will change.” The second you started singing, you heard everyone else go quiet around you. Steve, Bucky, and Thor all stopped playing for a second, and you could practically feel everyone’s mouth drop as you forced your eyes to stay on the screen in front of you.

“Every day, it seems we’re wastin’ away.” Just keep going, you told yourself. As much as you wanted to shrivel up in a corner somewhere far, far away, you had already started this. Might as well finish it.

“Another place where the faces are so cold, I’d drive all night just to get back home.” A whistle erupted from behind you—it had to be Tony—and amongst the hooting and hollering, you smiled, relieved, as the rest of the Avengers seemed to snap back into it.

The rest of the guys got back into the groove, and at one point you weren’t even sure you could hear yourself over Thor’s rather enthusiastic drum playing. You had a hard time not laughing at Bucky when you were watching him earlier, but it was pretty much impossible to not laugh now when you were seeing him with Steve. They were definitely feeding off of each other’s energy, and, wow, was it a sight. You’d never seen them this… loose before. They’d definitely need a comb after this game.

Nevertheless, your teammates’ antics helped you fully relax into the song, and it was over before you knew it. On the last beat of the song, you heard a loud crack and whirled around just in time to dodge part of a drumstick coming straight for your face.

“Thor, what the heck are you doing, man?” The god laughed sheepishly.

“Are you trying to kill my girlfriend?” You glanced over at Wanda, who looked ready to grab Thor around the neck. One stern look from you made her hesitate, but the anger remained obvious in her eyes.

“I guess I got a little caught up in the game. In my defense, your human toys are way too fragile.” After one harsh glare from Wanda, the god swallowed and added, “I apologize, Y/N.”

“Dude, how the heck are we supposed to keep playing with a broken drumstick?” Clint inspected the broken piece, which was at least the size of his palm, passing it from hand to hand.

“Ah, forget it. We can just switch to a different game. Y/N’s would’ve won the rest of the rounds anyway,” Bruce shrugged as he pointed at the screen.

The rest of the Avengers followed his finger, and sure enough, you had finished with a perfect score.

“Okay, Y/N, I’ll give it to you. That was good. How come you never told any of us you could sing?” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Nobody asked me.” You shrugged before handing the microphone to Bruce, allowing the conversation to return to what to do about the broken drumstick and returning to your seat next to Wanda. “Babe, I defeated the grandpas,” you whispered before pushing your face into the crook of her neck. More relaxed now that you were safe next to her, she chuckled, grabbing your hand.

“You did. I thought you would’ve been more excited about it?”

“I’m very happy about it,” you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” she smiled, squeezing your thigh. You whined, prompting your girlfriend to laugh softly and kiss the top of your forehead. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you sing more often. You’re a good singer, malyshka.”

“Thanks,” you muttered.

“Wow, Wanda, you didn’t even know your girlfriend could sing?” Clint teased. With the conversation back on you, you pushed yourself further into Wanda’s body. She reassured you by tracing small circles at the top of your knee.

“Obviously none of you knew about it either.”

“I did,” Natasha smirked, causing you to look up at her in shock. “I heard you singing in the shower the other day when I went to drop off the sweatshirt you left in my room.” You threw your head back in laughter before chucking a pillow in her direction, which she easily caught.

“You suck. You put me on singing on purpose!”

“You wanted to win, didn’t you?” your best friend shrugged, clearly not feeling bad for what she had done.

“Okay, okay, can we get back to game night now?” Sam whined. “Sure, Y/N can sing. But can she dance?” Everyone groaned playfully as Sam pulled out a copy of Just Dance. “Natasha, you’re not allowed to play,” he quickly added. The redhead crossed her arms, a smile on her face.

“Fine with me. Go get ‘em, Y/N.” You grinned. Giving Wanda a peck on the cheek, you stood from the couch yet again and rolled up your sleeves. This was going to be a long night.

[hopeamarsu]

congratulations on your milestone!! i would like to request Clyde Logan with “Your eyes are beautiful” fluff or angst or a little in between. Whatever you feel fits the prompt.

Thank you so much! ❤️

I decided to combine angst and fluff and so this ended up as exes to lovers situation where it hurts in the start, but hopefully feels good at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Beautiful eyes

Clyde Logan x gn!reader

Word count 1,4k

Rating Teen

Warnings: Exes to lovers (or breakup to makeup), angst, fluff. Reader has a favorite drink.

Summary: He misses you, but most of all, he misses your beautiful eyes granting him calm. Using the prompt “Your eyes are beautiful”.

Your eyes are beautiful.

He just hates that now whenever he sees you, you hide them from him. Every time your eyes accidentally meet, you lower your gaze or look the other way and it breaks him.

And the worst part is that Clyde now sees you everywhere. In the market, leaving the local library building after your shift when he’s entering the place, every night in his dreams and now here, in his bar where your friends must’ve dragged you to. You haunt him, your beautiful eyes now sad and it’s all his fault.

Well, his and his brothers stupid cauliflower plan. The plan Jimmy promised him would do no harm. But it did the worst kind of harm because that single word, cauliflower, cost him you.

Ever since Clyde got out of Monroe Correctional Facility, he’s been living in a world where you no longer greet him with sleepy kisses when he crawls into your bed after a night shift, a world where he no longer can scent you on his pillow, a world where burnt bacon doesn’t taste the same since you no longer cook it for him. A world where he no longer can gaze into your beautiful eyes and tell you just how much it brings him calm to do so.

He knows now he should’ve let you in on the plan from the start. He trusts you with his life, even now, and he should’ve let you in. But hiding the truth, evading your attempts at visiting him at the prison, actively lying to you when you begged him to speak what was troubling him, those were the little moments that chipped away your trust in him.

Even if all those moments were done because he wanted to protect you from harm, Clyde can’t blame you for wanting space, for wanting to figure out where you stood with him and eventually choosing to part ways. It kills him, makes him wither away like a flower without a sun, but he’ll shoulder that pain because it’s what he deserves.

He’s always wanted what’s best for you and if being with him isn’t the best, then you have made the right call. Even if his heart lies shattered on the floor, crumbled into dust, Clyde wishes you will get everything you want in life. He’s had his moment with the sun, but being a creature not worthy of the rays long term, he will slink back into the shadows. It’s his place and he cannot ask for more than his place.

“Clyde?”

“Hmm?” He turns to his bartender, the one Mellie had hired during his absence and the one he’s kept on board afterwards since the guy is good. Really good. Maybe even better bartender than Clyde. He’s kind, friendly to the patrons and never loses his temper. He’s never late, doesn’t complain about anything and Clyde thinks Mellie struck gold with this one and he’s not about to mess that up.

“The group in the booth,” The man gestures at your table, keeping his voice low. “They wished for the…” He rattles off the name of the bottle, before he continues”…and, ummm, it’s on the list but I can’t find the bottle.” He grins sheepishly before shrugging.

“Before I tell ‘‘em the bad news, I wanted to check with you.”

The name makes Clyde swallow audibly. It’s your drink. The one you had when something went especially well and you wanted to celebrate or to complete hell, so you needed a pick-me-up.

He has one bottle of it and he keeps it in his office just for you. Even after your breakup, Clyde didn’t have the heart to move it in with the rest of the bottles, holding on to a silly reminder of you.

“Yeah,” He gruffs. “Ah ‘ave it. Is in mah office. I’ll serve it fer ‘em.” His colleague nods and disappears back into the comfort of the bar top, smiling at the next patron and Clyde lets out a long breath.

He can do this.

He can pick up the bottle from his office, walk over to you and your friends, check that the bottle is correct and pour the drinks. In and out, two minutes tops. He’ll be polite, bask in your warmth without it being creepy and if he’s lucky, that will sustain him for a good long while. It will be alright, Clyde tells himself as a weak prep talk.

It takes but a few moments to pick up said bottle and make his way across the bar. He’s a ball of nerves but he holds it in, keeping a tight lid on his emotions. There’s four people sitting in the booth with you and all the heads turn in his direction when he stops in front of the rounded table. Clyde picks up the bottle, holding the neck with his metallic hand - his new, improved hand - and places it on the table with a soft click.

“I’m sorry ta keep ya waitin’, it took meh a moment ta ge’ ‘his. How many glasses fer yeh?”

The one he thinks you call Cam winks at him, not so subtly before rising up from the booth. “I need a change in music.” The others follow, citing a need to go to the bathroom or going out for a smoke, whatever. They are clearly doing it to give Clyde a moment alone with you and by the way your beautiful eyes shine with a small flicker of hope, you are not opposed to talking with him.

“Hi.”

“Hi darlin’.” The nickname slips out automatically but before Clyde can retract it, you grip his flesh hand softly. You find his eyes and once more he’s swept into the endless depths he thought he’d never get the privilege to look upon again.

“Can we talk, Clyde?” You ask softly, still holding his hand and he nods just as softly. You gesture for him to sit next to you and he quickly does. He knows he’s no good with words, but for this, for a chance like this, he’ll try his hardest to say what he’s hoped to say for so long.

“Darlin’, I’m so…” Your finger on his lips stops him before he can even formulate his words and Clyde is sure his eyebrows reach his dark hairline. Your finger leaves his lips, the ghost of a touch making him shiver and the smile you grant him makes his ears burn with delight.

“I’m sorry Clyde.”

Wait, what? Clyde is sure his eyebrows have completely disappeared by now in surprise. He doesn’t understand, why are you apologizing to him? You did nothing wrong! Before he can voice his protests, you continue.

“I was mad and upset when you didn’t tell me what happened. And when you refused to see me when I tried visiting the facility, the hurt burrowed a large hole in my chest. Every day it grew larger and larger until I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s why I left.” You sigh, before shaking your head. “But I know you Clyde Logan, I know who you are in your heart. And I judged you before I even let you explain to me, which left us both hurting. I am so sorry I hurt you.”

”No need ta apologize, darlin’. There’s nothing ta forgive. I’m the one tha’ should be sorry. An’ I am darlin’, I’m so sorry I didn’t let ya in. I should’ve and I didn’t. Please, can ya forgive a bartender so in love with ya tha’ he saw no other way of protectin’ ya?”

He breathes the words out quickly, wanting you to understand he holds nothing against you. You are far too good to him and he’s the one who messed up. He messed up so bad. All he wants is to do it right this time.

“Oh Clyde…” You sigh, the abyss of your eyes changing and evolving. He’s transfixed. He’s always been transfixed by your eyes and how they are unable to hide anything you feel. It makes you a lousy poker player, but it’s the one thing he’s always loved about you the most.

“Can I kiss ya, darlin’?” Clyde's voice whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear. He leans a little closer, sharing space with you as the bar falls away “Ah, I’d like ta kiss ya, please.”

Your eyes flutter closed when his lips press on yours, a soft and gentle kiss that is unhurried, solid yet shy. But there is no rush, this kiss is perfect now, Clyde hums, letting his senses be filled with you. Your beautiful eyes might be hidden from him now but at this moment, he’s okay with that. The kiss is a promise that he can get lost in them again and again.

*

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[crispyjenkins]

Rexobi. I really just wanna see Rex and Obi-wan drinking together and complaining about the disaster that is Anakin Skywalker. They decide to team up to get anakin to calm the heck down and to talk about his feelings. Anakin doesn’t realize what’s going on but gets the idea he needs to play matchmaker with his master and his captain. He thinks he’s the smart one but he’s really not

(i have once again chickened out of your full prompt and instead give you the leadup to rexobi getting anakin to talk about his feelings. 

i uhhh may be unable to think of anything but a rexobi au à la this post by @norcumii and @dharmaavocado about roleswap-ish senior padawan obi hella vibing with this mutant clone that can’t get above the rank of captain even as an arc trooper because the kaminoans are Like That, and qui-gon is going spare, because between anakin somehow being allowed to be in charge of a whole battalion and obi-wan picking fights with every single seperatist leader, he and cody never get a moment of peace. and like. just obi and rex being dumbass 20 year olds trying to deal with a general/master like anakin in the middle of a war. i don’t have TIME for that though

thank you for the prompt as always, i think this is the only rexobi/obex prompt i’ve ever gotten and this ship is criminally underappreciated. like?? kadavo?? anyways here’s whatever this is)

Alt+R to Quick Reblog on Desktop, Hold the Reblog Symbol to Quick Reblog on Mobile

 Not for the first time, Rex wishes Kote were the one here dealing with this, because “how to comfort your favorite Jedi” hadn’t exactly been covered in ARC training – actually, Alpha probably withheld the information on purpose, the fucker.

  But Kote is on the other side of the galaxy with the 187th and just as upset they’re not here in Rex’s stead: it’s barely a month off General Kenobi returning to his own face, and Rex knows his vod would strangle the entire Senate if given even half a chance for deploying them separately on their general’s first mission back after the Hardeen... incident. 

  And Fett’s Ghost knows Rex’s own general is going to pitch a fit when he finds out Rex is here instead of taking leave like the rest of the 501st, but Kote certainly wasn’t about to let Kenobi go all the way to Alderaan unguarded so soon after his supposed death; and honestly, Rex would have been offended if they had asked anybody else to do it. Thankfully, Kenobi hadn’t seemed offended when Rex had shown up at the Jedi Temple’s flight hangar before he could take off; instead, he had been rather amused. 

  Even luckier, Alderaan is barely a day’s jump from Coruscant, so they don’t have to spend too much time awkwardly pretending that Rex hadn’t attended the man’s funeral in Kote's place (that he would have attended anyways), or that Rex doesn’t know Anakin hasn’t spoken to his former master since their debrief to the High Council about Cad Bane. Which Rex should absolutely not know in the first place, but Anakin is his friend, for better or for worse, and Ahsoka thinks her master airs far too many of his grievances to his captain.

  It isn't until their cruiser is making the descent over Alderaan that Kenobi finally addresses the tension between them, which only proves that Kenobi is well aware of it, but had put it off as long as he could. It's a humanising observation, that Rex wishes he could have had when he isn't the only vod in a ten mile radius that isn't the pilot, because at least then he wouldn't be the sole receiver of the soft smile Kenobi gives him as he joins Rex to wait by the shuttle's access hatch.

  Rex thanks his progenitor's laughing corpse he has his bucket on, because all he can do is stare. 

  "You are worried about Anakin," Kenobi says matter of factly, though not unkindly, and Rex lets out a breath that's almost a laugh. 

  "I promise I am far more discrete with my thoughts in the field, sir."

  Kenobi chuckles warmly, tucking his arms behind his back to watch the planet under them grow larger as they approach. "Do try not to worry so much, my dear, this will all resolve itself in time." 

  It's hard to stare right at his gentle assuredness, so Rex looks away. "You have far more faith in his ability to forgive than I, sir."

  That laugh strains at the edges. "Yes, well, I'm afraid some of my lessons seem to have been... lacking."

  Rex has regs carbon-printed on his brain, he knows that even without the direct chain of command, the soft push and pull of his relationship with Kenobi, the steady, serene growth of it, is... problematic, for so many reasons that he wouldn't know where to start. Not least of all is rank, how much more important a Jedi is than a replaceable CC-track washout, but, well, Rex had washed out for being too emotional, so it's not as if he's exactly unused to reacting to things inappropriately for a good little soldier.

  "It's not my place, sir," he murmurs, remembering Kadavo, remembering Umbara, remembering the hand Kenobi had laid on his shoulder for far too long after the Blue Shadow virus, and has Rex really been this gone since then? "just say the word and I won't mention it again. But just because Kote isn't here doesn't mean you have to... shoulder all of this alone."

  In fact, it's wildly not his place to make such an offer, however implicit, but that month on Kadavo did happen, and Rex isn't so self-deprecating to believe he  hadn't had a heavy hand in helping Kenobi make it out on the other side as well as he did. He doesn't think so little of the bond they had formed then, to believe that Obi-Wan is unaware of it. 

  Not when he smiles at Rex like that, like he's a warm cup of caf after a week in the trenches, like Rex is... worthy of such sincere affection. 

  As the shuttle settles around them and the pilot announces their arrival over comm, Obi-Wan simply says, "I did not for a moment believe I was, my dear."

-

  "You and Rex seem close."

  Normally Obi-Wan can feel Anakin coming from an entire corridor away, but he also knows Quinlan has been teaching him a few Shadow tricks, so he isn't entirely surprised when Anakin appears at his elbow in the empty bridge looking like a smug necu.

  Aside from eating firstmeal with Kote in the mess, Obi-Wan hasn't even seen Rex today, much less interacted with him: as he understands it, Rex is trying to round up the remaining 501st shinies that are running around the Negotiator, so Obi-Wan really doesn't know where Anakin had gotten that notion. Recently, at least. 

  Anakin rolls his eyes and scoffs, leaning back on the railing next to him and crossing his arms. "Please, Master, even Snips has noticed."

  Obi-Wan refrains from telling him that anyone with a modicum more self-awareness than him has noticed. Be that as it may, "This is one of those times where I truly don't know what you're trying to say, my dear: I have been close with Rex since he was in the 212th."

  It isn't even an exaggeration, that there had been... something between them before Anakin whisked Rex away to his own battalion after his knighting, though back then it had been nothing more than friendship. If he recalls correctly, and he does, the cleanup of the Ryloth capitol had been the first time since then that they had worked closely, while Anakin had been on the ground with the locals and Mace had been with General Syndulla, and Obi-Wan had found he still quite enjoyed the way they worked together. Their time on Naboo combating the Blue Shadow virus had only endeared the captain more to him —he does remember a slip in propriety in his relief that Rex had been rescued safely with Padmé and Ahsoka, a hand left too long on the captain's shoulder until Kote had called him away— enough that Obi-Wan had been both relieved and horrified that it was Rex there to support him on Kadavo.

  "Cody said Rex was the one to go with you to Alderaan; you sure nothing 'happened' while you were there?" Anakin chuckles to himself like he's being incredibly clever, like there isn’t a hickey visible over the collar of his under tunic.

  Obi-Wan raises a brow slowly and refrains from rolling his eyes. "Despite what you may believe, Anakin, not everyone leaps into committed relationships after life-threatening situations." Not that Alderaan had been life-threatening, it had actually been as close to actual leave as Obi-Wan has had the entire war.

  "Please, it took Padmé and I ages to–" 

  Anakin seems to swallow his tongue, then, face rapidly going purple, and it really is a miracle the entire Republic doesn’t know about his marriage; the GAR certainly does.

  Sighing, Obi-Wan checks the chrono and decides it isn't too early for another cup of tea. "If you have a specific question about my relationship with Captain Rex, I do wish you’d be direct, my dear."

  Anakin splutters. "Relationship?!"

  "Great Maker, Anakin, you’re easier to spook than a half-starved blurrg." He pats Anakin’s arm, his sonbrother floundering for anything other than abject confoundment, as Obi-Wan turns away from the bridge to go locate both tea, and his commander to hopefully finalise their newest mission orders. "Don't worry," he calls over his shoulder, "I'll actually let you come to the wedding, unlike someone."

  Not that Obi-Wan has any such plans, Maker knows he and Rex have yet to address their feelings in the first place, but he'd be lying if part of him doesn't want to conspire with the captain in question —and perhaps Ahsoka— to see just how far they could take this before Anakin realises they're stringing him along. 

 Remarkably, Rex is waiting by Obi-Wan’s office with a flimsi cup of tea and a harried smile that promised quite the day chasing after shinies, and Obi-Wan decides conning his former apprentice can wait.

Mando’a: vod/e — “brother/s”, “comrade/s”, “sibling/s”, technically gender neutral but used most often in fandom as “brother/s”

[wizardimagines]

jealousy, part 2, draco x reader

pairing: draco malfoy x reader word count: 1,6k summary: you and ron becomes closer as you help him study, draco doesn’t take this new relationship well. a/n: here you guys go !! part 2 of jealously,, i’m in shock as to how many of u liked part one !! i’ve gotten such amazing feedback and it makes me super happy so thank u so so much <3 i’m gonna be completely honest tho and let u guys know im really unhappy with this one , i feel like it could be a lot better and i might actually rewrite it at some point . but hopefully it’s somewhat ok, enjoy !! <3 READ PART 1 HERE

warnings: TW !!! mentions psychical abuse

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

The following week was exhausting. You hadn’t seen Draco for a couple of days, doing everything you could to actively avoid him. The truth was you were scared. You were terrified, to say the very least. You had no clue what to say to him at this point, afraid that you were just going to make him even more upset than he already was. You didn’t even know if you two were a couple anymore, and the thought of it made your heart shatter into a million pieces.

You also distanced yourself from Ron. You knew the whole situation happened because of your friendship with Ron, and the only solution you could come up with was simply to stop being friends with Ron. He had approached you multiple times, asking you if you were free and wanted to go study, but you had declined each offer. You felt absolutely terrible, you truly did like Ron and you enjoyed spending time with him. But you knew your relationship with Draco was more important than any friend you had and at this point, you’d give up everything to fix your relationship.

It felt so hopeless. You skipped every class you had with the blond boy, you didn’t even dare look his way whenever you walked into the great hall to eat breakfast, petrified of your eyes meeting his icy ones. Today was no different. Everyone was in class, everyone but you. You knew you would have to face Draco sooner or later, today was just not the day. You were sitting in the library, trying your best to distract yourself by reading a book. However, it wasn’t going too well. You couldn’t focus on any of the words and your thoughts kept wandering off, thinking about other things. Suddenly, a warm hand was placed on your shoulder, making you snap out fo your thoughts. ‘’Why aren’t you in class, Y/N?’’ A similar voice said behind you, making you turn around so you could see who the person was. In front of you stood Ron. ‘’Ron,’’ You let out, feeling somewhat relieved it was only Ron. You shut the book close as the red-haired boy sat down in the chair next to you. ‘’You scared me.’’ You chuckled lightly, looking down at your lap where your hands were resting. ‘’Sorry about that,’’ Ron answered. ‘’But why aren’t you in class?’’ He repeated himself. 

You didn’t know what to tell him. You knew it wasn’t a secret that you were avoiding Draco, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. ‘’I just,’’ You started, biting your bottom lip nervously. You were still staring at your hands,  nervously playing with them. You just couldn’t bring yourself to look at the boy in front of you. ‘’I have to go.’’ You blurted out, quickly standing up. ‘’Y/N! Wait,’’ Ron let out behind you, standing up as well. ‘’What’s going on with you?’’ Worry lingered in his voice, and you couldn’t blame him.

You felt your bottom lip starting to tremble. That was when you noticed the tears that were welling up in your eyes, making you shut them close to prevent the tears from hitting your cheeks. ‘’Whatever it is that’s going on, I’m here for you, you know?’’ He said, placing his hand on your shoulder once again. You took a deep, shaky breath as you turned around and fell straight into his arms. You could tell he was surprised, but quickly wrapped his arms around you. You let the tears fall silently down your cheeks. ‘’Hey, it’s okay,’’ He mumbled as he stroke your back using one of his hands, the other one holding the back of your head. ‘’I think Draco broke up with me,’’ You quietly whispered into his shoulder, tears still falling from your eyes. ‘’Bloody hell Malfoy,’’ Ron muttered under his breath, pulling you closer to him.

At this point, you didn’t even care about the whole ignoring Ron thing you had planned to keep until you fixed things with Draco. The feeling of someone holding you and being there to comfort you finally made you feel a little bit better. Ron’s warm hands were nothing compared to Draco’s cold, lanky hands but it didn’t matter at this point. ‘’I’ll walk you to your dorm,’’ He mumbled as he pulled away from the hug, spotting your tear-filled face. He slowly wiped the tears away using his thumbs, making you nod. ‘’You can start walking, okay? I just need to go get my things and then I’ll catch up with you.’’ He said, giving you a small smile. You nodded once again, giving him half a smile.

The halls were empty. You weren’t complaining though, you didn’t want anyone to see you like this; like a crying mess. You slowly walked down the hall, taking your time as you looked out each window you passed. The weather had somewhat cleared up, dark clouds still covering the sky. ‘’Y/N?’’ A voice suddenly called out, making you turn your head to the side. And there he was. His eyes were dark, not the usual bright blue color they always used to be. As soon as your eyes met his, your heart dropped. You felt your throat tighten up as you felt completely paralyzed. You felt your eyes widen as you suddenly realized that you had to get away, quickly. You turned around, quickly making your way down the hall without saying a word to the blond boy. ‘’No, wait!’’ He shouted behind you, grabbing your wrist.

Your wrist. The same wrist he had grabbed that night. The same wrist that now had a bright red mark from his tight grip. You felt the pain shot up your arm, making your eyes well up with tears once again as you cried out in pain. You quickly snatched your wrist away, holding it with your other arm as you bit your lower lip in pain. Draco looked at you in confusion before looking down at your arm, spotting the red mark. He felt the guiltiness and pain hit him all at once. His heart dropped as he realized it was him that had left that mark. ‘’Y/N,’’ He whispered, his facial expression softening. You quickly looked up at him, tears falling from your eyes as you took a shaky breath. He slowly reached out to you, making you jump. 

He froze. ‘’I’m not going to hurt you,’’ He let out, pain and shame lingering in his voice as his eyes teared up. ‘’Please don’t be scared of me, I would never hurt you,’’ He continued, shaking his head as a tear hit his cheek. Draco had never felt such pain. He had felt pain multiple times during his lifetime, but nothing could compare to the pain he was currently feeling. You just stood there, staring at the boy in front of you. You didn’t know what to say or do, so you just let the tears fall down your cheeks. ‘’I’m so sorry, please let me hold you,’’ He mumbled as he tried his best to hold back the rest of the tears, slowly walking towards you. You watched as he got closer to you, terrified of what could happen next. But Draco slowly put his arms around your waist, burying his head between your neck and shoulder. You felt a sob escape his lips.

‘’I’m so sorry,’’ He kept repeating it over and over again between sobs. You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, you had never seen him in this state before. ‘’I don’t know what happened. I was just so angry,’’ He sobbed. ‘’But why?’’ You whispered back. ‘’Because I really thought I was losing you,’’ Draco responded. You slowly pulled away, Draco looking at you in fear as you did so. ‘’Please don’t go,’’ He whimpered, his bottom lip trembling. You grabbed his hands as you shook your head. ‘’I’m not leaving, Draco.’’ The boy in front of you closed his eyes as he grabbed onto your hands harder, like he was scared you were going to leave anyway. ‘’I’m so sorry for saying all those things,’’ He cried, pulling you back into a tight hug.

This time he placed his head on top of yours, placing one hand behind your head and the other one on your back. ‘’And I’m so incredibly sorry for hurting you like that,’’ He whispered. You pulled yourself closer to him, placing your head on his chest. You could hear his heart racing, as well as his shaky breath. ‘’I will never lay a finger on you again, I promise,’’ He continued, making you sigh. ‘’Please just hold me Draco.’’ You whispered, causing the taller boy to pull you closer to him immediately. You closed your eyes as a tear escaped from your eye, Draco pressing multiple kisses on top of your head.

You knew it would take a while to forgive Draco, but it didn’t matter. You were willing to do anything for him, just like he was willing to do anything for you. ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

TAGLIST: @justmesadgirl @thefandomplace @kodydoescrap @slytherinsunrise @xdracosmalfoyx @imjustboredso @lexi-ravenclawdracomalfoy @retrouvailessx @night-girls-world @andressavp @inurealiyah @lilgoddesshines @iamaspicytriangle

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

~

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

~

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

~

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

[razorblade180]

Fill in

Daybreak in the Cool Isle came gently over the many houses made and the calm land. In Chongyun’s house, the light came through the window of his room as he woke up. The sleep from his eyes left him gradually to see Hu Tao still sleeping soundly, her arms around him.

Chongyun:(I have to get up…)

Moving his arms was out the question. Instead he pressed his forehead gently against hers. Discreetly, he peppered her with kisses. The slight agitation stirred her awake with a pout. Hu Tao held him tighter and put her face against his chest.

Hu Tao:You know I’m not a early morning person, but I guess if you’re gonna wake me up like this then I shouldn’t complain.

Chongyun:*red* All I did was poke your face.

Hu Tao:Such a terrible liar. Did you wake me up just to act cute?

Chongyun:I need to get ready. I have to go out.

Hu Tao:This early?

Chongyun:Today’s the day Shenhe’s training begins. All captains have to drill their new members to figure out what works best. I’ll…be gone for about a week.

Hu Tao: That so? I do vaguely remember you spending a week straight with me in the mountains. Though I don’t remember having to take anyone for a week.

Chongyun:You’re new and basically do what you’ve always done before being a leader. I’m sure you’ll get the chance if any new members catch your eye.

Hu Tao:Ooo that might be fun one day. You get Ganyu to fill in for your regular assignments?

Chongyun:No I got- wait how did you know I have to find a replacement?

Hu Tao:Starting today I fill in for Yoimiya for a week. She asked a couple days ago.

Chongyun:…You knew I was leaving today.

Hu Tao:Yep. Even if she hadn’t said anything, you’ve been awfully affectionate these last two days. I mean you even invited me here. Almost like you’ll miss me.

She removed her face from his chest to see his flustered expression. He looked as if he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Hu Tao couldn’t help but smile at him.

Hu Tao:Was a right?

Chongyun:No. I just figured you’d be pouty if I didn’t tell you eventually.

Hu Tao:Pfft so you wait the morning of? If anything, I’m wounded that you didn’t ask me to fill in. As for missing me…*holds face* You really should do that only after you’re gone, silly. Now’s the time to be enjoying my company and for me to tell you to be safe.

Chongyun:*red*…I absolutely have to get out of this bed in the next half hour.

Hu Tao:That’s more than enough time. You owe me for such a late notice.

She kissed his nose playfully then blindsided when his lips pressed against her. The playful nature she was known for turned into a blushing mess, happily accepting this embrace. Maybe her boldness was finally rubbing off on him? She could get used to it.

xxxxx

Chongyun walked out his home and made his way to meet Shenhe as soon as possible. As he left, he caught a glimpse of Yoimiya leaving her house with her hair still down. She began running full speed, catching up to him.

Chongyun:I see you’re running late as well?

Yoimiya:Nope! We are right on time! I just hope Yun Jin isn’t waiting for me.

Chongyun:I get why I’m a little behind schedule, but you? Being a cool captain is always something you love to do. I guess you can’t say no to Kazuha as much as I can’t to Hu Tao.

Yoimiya:Who said Kazuha was in my house!?

Chongyun:You, just now.

Yoimiya:*red* I…well…ya got me. Keep my secret and I’ll keep yours. Hu Tao loves to mention how funny it is seeing you embarrassed.

Chongyun:My lips are sealed. I should’ve known she talks about me to you. Hopefully she doesn’t say anything embarrassing to everyone.

Yoimiya:Hahahahaha! Lucky for me, Kazuha isn’t much for gossip.

xxxxx

Kazuha:She was flustered asking me to stay over. It looked like she was gonna faint.

Hu Tao:Awww! Chongyun was a stuttering mess. We sure know how to pick em. We should double date.

Kazuha:Sure, sounds fun!