#I can't remember if I posted this or not so You're Getting It maybe twice hope you dont mind

[box-architecture]

hEY btw I think that Cult of the Lamb except instead of any of the actual stuff please focus on God!Dream being married and fucked by loyal devoted worshipper Punz who kills in his name and tells Dream how beautiful he is as he makes him cry on his cock

I think that God Dream should be absolutely obliterated carnally

I think that he saves Punz from death and in turn Punz spend eternity loving him

I think Punz, right before he's executed, seeing the axe swing down, is brought before Dream, who takes an interest in him and decides to spare him On A Whim, and in turn Punz must dedicate himself to Dream. Dream expects "dedication" in maybe the form of occasional prayers and thanks, maybe a small altar, and believes Punz will ultimately just be grateful to be alive but not be happy to be tied to Dream.

He Is Very Wrong

Punz is the only person to touch Dream in hundreds of years

After Punz shows off how much of a crush he has on Dream (he is covered in blood and murdering people in his gods name and gifting Dream pink roses and so, so reverent) Dream offers to show his appreciation for Punz's worship in turn.

And Dream very much treats it like he's being High and Mighty to this small mortal who doesn't understand a lot of things, he's giving him such a Gift, allowing him to touch his God

Listen Dream is expecting to hard dom in this scenario, and for a bit he is!!! Because Punz is so, so utterly enthralled, willing to let Dream take whatever he wants, absolutely down for that. He just also really likes those little flashes of vulnerability, likes being able to serve Dream and make him come, likes Dream writhing with pleasure and know that he's brought it

Punz is a monsterfucker and this is not something Dream accounted for in any situation when he really should have. Honestly. Dream tries to keep his appearance Semi-Human when they fuck but he has trouble controlling it when Punz fucks him so well he can't focus

the claws the eyes the horns and teeth the demon wings

Punz is having a good time. Dream is also having a good time, but like, unexpectedly

I'm trying to bring my thoughts together to write coherent smut. I don't know if I'll succeed but so far I got

"Dream milks Punz's cock for a bit, smiling like a lazy cat and asking if it feels good, if his follower is satisfied, has his god attended to him? And Punz tells him how it feels, tells him how good Dream feels,

But he brushes his hands over Dream's human form and asks if he's felt the same, do you feel good, my lord?"

listen to me

please consider that Dream fucks Punz on his cock, doesn't let him come, but gets him right on the edge, then slicks Punz up and straddles him and sinks into him, letting Punz fill him, talks about how gracious he's being as he shimmies and tightens around them until Punz is bucking and coming inside him. Lazy and relaxed and magnanimous, polite, mmms and ahhs as he grinds his hips down, prolonging Punz's orgasms and getting some pleasure for himself

and Punz gets to come a few more times, Dream will allow himself to be filled. It feels nice, its so rare for Dream to indulge and allow for such closeness. Really, he should be thanking his dear worshipper for giving Dream the opportunity to engage in this act. Its so rare that Dream touches someone without violent intent (so rare that someone tries to touch Dream, although he would never frame it that way.)

But he's thanking his worshipper now by allowing him to come again, sweat dripping down his brow and loud moans that sound so pretty falling from his mortal's lips

and Dream this entire time has been feeling low level pleasure, but he's Not Mortal and doesn't Need It so like, while he finds sex enjoyable and fun, he's not particularly prioritizing his own pleasure here. Its that aroaceness thing where "oh sex, nice" but also if its not brought up you forget that it exists and masturbation is a thing people do. thats the best way I can explain it here. Dream is experiencing a rare stimuli that feels nice but not essential. he's not like, being a martyr or anything by focusing on Punz.

But also Punz would very much like to bring pleasure to their God, and Dream not getting off is Not Good Worship You See

obviously Punz needs to ask if Dream feels good, if he's been attended to. And Dream laughs and teases his worshipper for not properly enjoying their gift, and Punz is reverent when they cup Dream's cheek and say its a gift to serve you, my lord

and I think that Dream startles and shifts as Punz grinds his hips up, stops gripping the sheets (because Dream fucked them so hard its all they could do to hold on and ground themselves to sanity) and place their hands on Dream's thighs so they can angle themselves better inside him, and yes, Dream could feel that lovely sweet spot inside him on occasion, it was fascinating how good it felt, but suddenly Punz is hitting it every single time, and Dream can't stop the moan he lets out

Dream feels his form shift, his claws tear into the sheets, but Punz only praises him, breathless, you're gorgeous, beautiful my lord, does it feel good? Am I pleasing you, my lord?

When Dream's voice cracks, it gains something otherworldly, losing his composure, ah ah ahs as he falls forward a little, flushing because Punz is so completely awestruck watching him. Dream whimpering when he feels Punz twitch inside him, brushing against his prostate, biting his lip and unable to scold himself for making such a noise because Punz seems intent on fucking him until he can't think about propriety. Dream moaning louder and louder, hearing my lord but for a moment it sounds like my love

Punz stopping suddenly and Dream feels his sanity untangle a thread, panting heavily while Punz suddenly grabs his hand (still clawed and blackened and inhuman) and presses a kiss to the palm, sits up and kisses his arm, his shoulder, his collar.

you're taking liberties beyond your station. Dream tries to keep his voice even, but its shaky.

I'll never take anything you don't want me to, my lord. Punz murmurs. May I kiss you?

And Dream allows it. Dream lets them, on the condition that its Only Once, Only The One, Don't Be Greedy, and Punz is tender, treating it like the gift it is, and Dream moans into their mouth as they rock into him, starting up again

Punz has already come inside Dream before this, when Dream pushed him over the edge. So he's already been filled, it's dripping down his thighs

And maybe he lifted himself off of Punz's cock before, to show off how Punz had left him a mess. Let some of it leak out of him before dropping himself back down

Or maybe he just kept going, and Punz is now fucking his come back into Dream

[tenisperfection]

Worship, a Buck/Tommy drabble. A few months post S7.

It's during the seventh time Tommy kisses his left temple that it clicks for Buck.

Buck from five years ago would've needed to check in with his partner immediately. Buck would've wanted to know, would've wanted to beg and then given in to want, pleading for them to say it in all but those exact words, yes, this is where I kiss you, this is the spot I claim. I have favorite spots now. I leave traces of me on you and then I return home to them and to you.

When Buck clocks Tommy's spot, he says nothing. He's pretty sure this is a recurrence though, and for the next few days, Buck counts one, two, five, eleven more times that Tommy kisses him there, each one lingering longer but just as affectionate as the previous one.

Buck says nothing but begins to wait for them with the desperation of a man spotting water after days without.

"Did you finish that book, baby? Gemma wanted to borrow it if you're done," Tommy says after dinner one night, mussing up Buck's hair as he passes by to grab their empty plates. Buck's chest tingles when Tommy doesn't move away.

"Okay," he says after three seconds of distraction, and only realizes when Tommy moves towards the sink that he neither answered Tommy's question nor did he get kissed.

Tommy, because he's Tommy, doesn't miss a beat.

"You okay, baby? You seem a little distracted." Buck hears the faucet turn on, the clink of porcelain as Tommy deftly washes them.

"Um, yeah, just thinking about the book. I'm getting to the good part," Buck babbles, and though he'd been reading it less than three hours ago while on shift, he can't for the life of him remember what the good part was.

Tommy, because he knows when Buck is looking for an out, doesn't ask. Buck watches the muscles in his back as he bends over the sink, the way his thin blue t-shirt billows around his waist. It's not a shirt that Tommy wears with company, and Buck knows when he turns around, he'd be able to spot a tiny hole at the collar from the time that Tommy had bit into it, too invested in winning a game of Mario Kart against Eddie.

That night, after Tommy slips out of him and they jump into and out of the shower, Tommy kisses his temple twice as they wrap up in the biggest towels Buck owns. It's somewhere around this kiss that Buck loses count.

~~~

It's months later when Buck finally asks, and Tommy smiles so wide that Buck has no choice but to kiss him.

"You're starting to get a few gray hairs at your temple," Tommy says, expression abashed, like he thinks Buck would revolt. Five years ago, Buck would've gone down a tailspin of horror at this revelation, reaching for the internet and the bottle of hair dye within seconds.

Now, Buck wiggles his eyebrows. "Me going gray does it for you, old man?"

Tommy swats his ass even as he pulls Buck in with the other arm, surrounding him with his body. "Maybe. But being here to witness it definitely does. Per my last count, you now have three."

"You're lucky you didn't tell Buck 1.0 this," Buck kisses him because he's irresistible like this, eyes twinkling with so much fondness for Buck, watching and kissing him as they watch the night slip into day, week after week, month after month.

"Eddie says you've gone through more versions than a Windows computer," Tommy grins, then tilts his head at Buck. "You think we'd have hit it off if we met back then?"

"I don't know," Buck teases, drawing back, "you won't have my grays to kiss then, so who knows, maybe we'd have fizzled out."

"So you're saying our entire relationship hinges on your grays?" Tommy quips back.

"No, you said that," because he can be a brat with Tommy. Buck's starting to think he can be anything with Tommy.

Tommy's eyes grow serious in that way where he switches between emotions effortlessly. "I'd have found something else, Evan. Maybe the freckle on your nose,"—Tommy kisses the arch of his nose—"or the birthmark behind your ear,"—"Tommy kisses behind his right earlobe—"or this one right here." When Tommy kisses the birthmark over his left eye, Buck shivers. Tommy lets Buck kiss him and pour everything he's feeling into Tommy even if he can't quite find the words to say it, like how Tommy makes him feel iridescent, though he feels the most settled he can remember being. Like how his chest fills up with bubbly joy every time he open the cabinet above his sink and spots Tommy's favorite yellow bowl on the shelf, the one he claims is perfect for cereal or pasta or rice or anything, really, even though it is clearly a soup bowl.

"You realize you just signed up for kissing every single gray hair on my head from now on," Buck says when they're sated and sleepy, limbs tangled up on top of sheets that Tommy will change tomorrow because Buck hates doing the bed.

A few years ago, Buck would've wanted to beg, say you'll stay. say this means you'll stay. say you'll be here when I have more gray on my head. say you'll be here when I'm fully gray, still kissing me, still wanting me, still loving me.

Today, Buck doesn't beg. Tommy's mouth finds its way to his spot, and Buck knows that Tommy would still say it if he asks.

[luveline]

You are so talented I can’t even fathom it Jade! I seriously don’t know how you do it.

Idk if you’re taking requests rn for Spencer still bc I know you write him a lot but I love shy reader and post prison Spencer it’s so cute. I would love to see their relationship growing, maybe her realizing the feelings aren’t one sided by little things he says or does for her or how he reacts if she gets hurt.

No worries if not! Anything you write is a gift honestly. Happy New Year!

thank you sm angel, you're too kind<3 hny! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k

cw violence and injury

You'll be fine, Spencer had said, patting you on the shoulder. Just trust me. 

This is decidedly not fine. 

You crouch low behind a raspberry chaise turned blood red in the poor lighting. When you entered the building moments ago, it was light. But now the lights are out and you can't tell your friend from foe; footsteps to your left could be Spencer where he'd followed you in, or they could be the UnSub. 

I'm right behind you, he'd said with a borderline rogue smile. You think I'd let you get hurt? 

Breath warms your ear. “Boo.” 

The air gets stuck in your lungs as brutish arms grab you. Your gun points toward your own jaw and your pulse hammers so hard you freeze, a split second, the amygdala overwhelmed. Then the UnSub tries to grab your weapon, and everything you've been taught kicks in. You twist in his arms, throwing your head back out of the line of fire as multiple agents call to you to sound off, and kicking hard at the UnSub's legs, the subsequent soft spot between them. 

You fall hard onto the floor, screaming as a weight lands on top of you.

Spencer shouts your name. “Where are you?!”

A hard palm hits you in the throat. Light bounces off of the UnSub's face as a teammate aims their torch in your direction, but you're wheezing and aching, your throat on fire and too overwhelmed to think. The hand that hurt you leaps for your gun. You hold onto it for dear life, even as he forces it once, twice into the soft of your face, leaving rings of flame behind your eye. You pull it hard from his hands and fling it across the floor out of reach, squirming under his weight, needing to be away, away— 

You pull your knee up and kick wildly, a well timed blow hitting the UnSub in the face with a damp-sounding crunch. 

“I don't have eyes on her!” Emily shouts. 

“I do,” Spencer says. His torchlight floods your area as he shouts, “Stand down!” 

You don't squeal, but it's not a very professional sound as you crawl backwards out of the way. The ring of fire behind your eyes feels ever so slightly above it now. The room is half gone. You wipe your eye and look down at your hand, dark staining your palm in a heavy smear.

“Oh,” you mumble queasily. 

The power never comes back on, but you don't notice until after, when Spencer's dragged you outside to the front yard and lowered you to a soft patch of grass, an EMT beside him dressing your wound. “Did they get him?” you ask. 

Spencer's brow wrinkles with his frown. 

“Remember what we said?” The EMT asks. 

“No?” You wince and hiss as he pulls the wings of a butterfly stitch closed over your eyebrow. 

“You have a concussion. I'm trying to work out how bad it is.” 

You honestly still feel like you're in the dark room. You reach out for Spencer's hand instinctively, needing comfort, a tether to the ground, and he clasps your fingers tightly. “You're okay,” he says steadily. 

“You're smiling at me weird.” You glance over your shoulder at the cop cars and the flashing red-blue lights. “Did you get him?” 

“Emily got him. Just after he got you.” Spencer looks like he might stand from his crouch, but he brings your hand to his chin instead, leaning on it showfully. “It's my fault, I'm sorry. I told you I'd have your back and I didn't.” 

Your chest stirs with the memory of your panic. One moment you'd been underneath him, and aching, and now you're on the grass as the forensics bring in the floodlights, so bright it's like mini suns have come out on either side of the yard. You hang your head to hide from the light. The EMT tells you off. 

“Does your throat still hurt?” Spencer asks you, pulling on your hand gently. “Answer me.” 

“My head is swimming.” 

Your memories fuzz over. When you look up again the EMT is gone. Spencer sits on the grass now beside you unhurried, your hand still clamped between both of his. His thumb rubs at your knuckles and the smooth stretch of skin beside them, apparently content to wait with you. 

“She's okay?” Tara asks, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. 

“Not enough medical. They're gonna look at Agent Walker and circle back. She might have to be admitted.” 

Tara bends at the waist to look you in the eye. “You okay?” 

“I'm fine. Are you okay?” you ask. 

“I'm doing better than you. That's gonna be a terrific bruise.” She smiles at Spencer reassuringly. “Emily wants you. I can sit with her, she'll be in good hands.” 

“She'd be in great hands,” Spencer says simply, “but I don't care. I'm staying here. Please tell Emily she can come here if she needs to talk to me. I'm not going anywhere until they've finished looking at Y/N.” 

Tara grins. “Your funeral.” 

You're slowly starting to feel like yourself again, or more aware of yourself at the very least. Spencer's touch is melding from comforting to heart-rending, his nearness a heat. He looks stupidly good-looking considering what you've just been through, the FBI vest tight on his chest, his sweet brown curls falling into his eyes as he plays with your fingers. 

“I must look awful,” you realise suddenly, a stone's throw from tearful. 

Spencer doesn't glance up at first. “You look beautiful, but the bruise is…” He looks at you through dark lashes. “It's a tragedy.” 

“What?” 

His small smile fades. “How are you feeling? Are things clear, or would you say that I'm out of focus? You're having moderate to severe concussive symptoms.” He shakes his head. “And the bruise is mottling already.” 

“I'm sorry.” 

Spencer laughs softly. After a pensive moment, he brings your hand to his mouth. Maybe he kisses it, maybe he doesn't, but the touch brings a sacredness to his promise, “I won't let that happen again. You trusted me to keep you safe.” 

“I trusted you to tell me if I was ready, and I was. I remembered how to get out of it. I'm still here.” You fluster after you've spoken, feeling brash. 

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face. “You are. You did amazing.” He removes one hand from yours. A featherlight touch coasts down your cheek, brief and encouraging nonetheless. “It's going to be a really bad bruise.” 

“Oh, well,” you say tiredly. 

Spencer's turn to go quiet. He holds your hand on his thigh. “I could kiss it better?” he offers in a murmur. 

You laugh and steal your hand back, unable to take all his attention at once. “Funny, Spencer.” 

He gives you a warm smile. You can't tell if he's kidding or not about the kiss, but his devotion to you while you're hurting is real. You're not sure where that leaves you.

[foone]

The way it works is it's a surgery to make you immune to a bullet.

Note, that's not the same as being immune to bullets. You're only immune to a single shot: if someone shoots you twice, you're dead.

You can take the surgery again, though. The only real limitation is that you gotta wait 2-3 weeks between each time. But if you've got the money and the time, you can be as bulletproof as you want.

It doesn't "refill", by the way. Often when the surgery is explained people think it's like "a bullet a day" or "you can get shot once a year" or whatever. Nope! Once you've been shot it's just like you never had that surgery to begin with. If you want to "refill" that immunity? You have the surgery again.

No, there's no upper limit to how many times you can go, that we know of at least. There's one guy in Florida who has made it "his thing" to get the surgery as often as he can. He's currently up to about 50. Obviously there's some people online who've said they're gonna shoot this guy and lower his "record", just to be countrary.

Anyway I'm sure there'd be people who have even higher numbers (anyone who has "getting shot" as a major occupational risk, ie, politicians, soldiers, cops, and anyone doing any kind of residental survey in rural areas), but they only invented the surgery like three years ago, it's just simple math: you can't do much better than that guy.

The invention of the surgery hasn't done much to decrease gun sales, though. I mean, there's been a slight increase in people buying guns with larger capacity, for what I'd consider obvious reasons.

I did see an article suggesting that in the long run it might end up increasing the sale of guns. See their analysis is that two factors are going to drive up gun ownership:

1. People will be more willing to shoot at trespassers and thieves and such, because it'll be more like a warning shot: if they have some immunity, it won't be murder. So far that hasn't really happened as not that many people have the surgery yet. Although it's spreading fast, only major cities have surgeons trained in it, and often waits for surgery can be months long.

2. Conversely, people are going to be more likely to break in and rob and trespass if they know they can't be shot dead for it, because they got the surgery. There'll be a minor uptick in home invasions and such and this'll cause a big predictable panic among middle class homeowners who are now terrified some hooligan is gonna break into their house to steal their iPads. Thus they go throw money at security systems and cameras and guns.

So who knows at this point. If the cost (in both time and money) comes down, maybe it becomes super common for people to be so effectively invulnerable to guns that there's really no point in owning one?

I do agree with the common consensus that this is going to drive a big increase in crimes committed with knives and such. Why take a risk that your target might be immune?

Which reminds me of another thing to clarify because sometimes people online get this very wrong: it's only for bullets! You are not immune to getting hit by a car or poisoned or set on fire. Don't walk into traffic or anything, jesus.

Oh one last thing: there is a blood test that can tell if you have immunity, but it can't tell how many times you've had the surgery. You gotta figure that out yourself: so ask your doctor, search your emails, something. Every day I'm hearing from healthcare workers saying someone came in to get the blood test and it had to be explained to them that we can't tell how much protection you have: only if it's there or not. And I feel like a fool for having to say this, but REMEMBER to subtract any times you've got shot! (if you have been) Obviously!

EDIT: In light of recent events, people are sharing this post and arguing about it a lot, but let me be clear: grazes and small cuts do not count! The exact dividing line is too complicated to explain here (look up "circulatory shock" on Wikipedia), but basically if you don't end up with a big hole in you, the shot doesn't trigger the immunity.

That's how it works: you could have an ear blown clean off, and you'd still not trigger an immunity. So please stop spreading that idiotic conspiracy theory that a former president didn't have any immunity. You can barely run a high-school without being required to have immunity to hold the position, because what if someone shoots you? Come on! Of course he has immunity.

For all we know he's got some prototype experimental shit they use on president's that got him up to 200 in a couple days. There's endless rumors of the DoD funding billions in black budget items to that sort of thing, because of course. Who wouldn't want a way to make bulletproof soldiers? You don't think the soviets are pouring even more into it?

[starberry-cupcake]

I'm back! Thank you so much for your patience and your kind messages and comments ♥ you are so nice about my silly ramblings, I appreciate it a lot.

previously, on harrowsoup the ninth:

this happened

also I posted this and this as previews and this is the whole tag

currently, chapters 23-26:

"an atmosphere of greater unease had settled over the mithraeum"

aka the emperor's bolthole

btw, no kidding, harrow, I hadn't noticed the unease

so, harrow asks around about the herald situation

I have another deck with dragon heralds but I'm not gonna go on a card tangent this time (you're welcome)

everyone gives terrible and useless descriptions

emperor johnny boy says "Whenever they come I am bundled off to a sealed sanctum at the heart of the Mitrhaeum, so that their insanity can't touch me"

asshole coward awful man

harrobean is trying to ask why emperor asshat is so sure about her having to die and if there's no way she can make it

emperor johnny says yandere twin isn't that good at being a lyctor yet, even if she's surprising and that if he was still giving silly names, he'd name her "Saint of Awe"

harrow thinks "that had not quite suited Naberius"

get perpetually owned, chad

harrow also mentions not being able to remember things well

YOU THINK, HARROW?

"it was as though your brain had formed a scab over everything that had happened to you"

I don't think that scab is healing well

emperor johnny insists on the rapier

idk why they all insist on the rapier

gideon and camilla didn't like it and were the fucking best cavaliers ever

ARE, THEY ARE THE BEST CAVALIERS EVER

PRESENT TENSE

but anyway, at this point, it could very well be emperor johnbro has aesthetic demands

not like he'll explain anything

harrowbean sees not!dulcinea's door closed, which isn't usual

she second guesses a bit because she can't always trust what she sees and she remembers crux saying "you saw what you saw, Lady, and the only thing you control now is your reaction thereto"

I didn't like that old man, but that's pretty cool of him to say

harrow opens the door and sees this

alleged gideon the first aka ortus tells harrow to go away very calmly and in a way that is too nice for him, apparently

harrow is upset at the display in front of her salad and goes to complain to yandere twin

which is a terrible place to complain at because she's both into gossip and into kink

if you want someone to take this seriously, that's the last place to go to

"at least you know who's been moving her—so to speak"

this is what we get combining yandere twin and chad

I've used that gif twice for her already

I forgive her, though, because she says "god is a dickhead" and she's right

she also asks harrow to try to remember why emperor john god has given her the sword

and establishes that harrow previously did something to her jaw so that she couldn't tell her

that's going in the 3d model

CHAPTER 24

apparently people are being less mean to harrowbean because they're already mourning her

harrow says that alleged gideon the first aka ortus has the name ortus because "it was just a banal and uncomfortable coincidence, as though he'd carried the name of a dead childhood pet"

she believes that the name must have caught on in the ninth because anastasia must have like brought it in and named people after her pal

I think he's named gideon

and that our gideon is named after him because of direct relationship of some capacity, maybe to someone involved

I considered the mom, but it's uncertain

in any case, he has to die

so, harrow puts a lot of wards and safety things in her room

kind of like this

home alone styling it

but apparently alleged gideon the first aka ortus can bypass wards

much like the sleeper/waker

much like not!dulcinea

wards are basically pointless, I guess, at this point

so he goes into her bathroom when she's bathing because here in the emperor's bolthole, everyone's a disrespectful asshole

harrowbean says he's "a thanergy void" and "the ultimate nemesis of a bone adept"

he tries to kill her while she's looking like this

I want to give this child some cocoa and play a comfort movie for her, like "the bone collector"

she ended up using the teeth she lost in the fight as projectiles in his eyes and got him to leave

she ended up bloody, unmoving, wet, naked and collapsed on the ground to which yandere twin live reacted to and left

she could have given her a hand

or an arm

she decided alleged gideon had to die and ice cube barbie aka probably annabel lee agreed

when gideon was among us, there was not enough time for her to throw hands at people and here there's so many people she could be throwing hands at and she's not here to do so

camilla too, but camilla threw hands at martita in a way that was legendary enough

CHAPTER 25

harrow goes with the chisme to dr reverend professor emperor john

she says "I swear by the Locked Tomb"

to which he replies "I wouldn't swear by that in this instance"

which I sure hope doesn't mean anything nasty with my girl ice cube barbie annabel lee because I'm gonna kill this man

she might not be entirely alive (maybe she is, maybe she's just suspended or something) but she deserves better than this piece of work

then he says "well, that's unfortunate"

this man really knows how to handle a situation, huh

emperor john says that it's pretty unlikely that alleged gideon the first aka ortus was doing the dirty with not!dulcinea because he never showed interest before and is "legendarily unamorous"

that's another tshirt I need

I need that one and the witch one immediately

also, now we've got a problem

not just because my telenovela about how this man might or might not be related to our gideon got more convoluted

but also because if alleged gideon is aroace, I'm gonna have to stan

I don't make the rules over here, I have to stand by my people

I have a conflict of interest now

emperor john also says "you must think us all a depraved set of immortal criminals"

I mean yes, I do, but not because of sexy times with zombies

I'm not here to judge the sexytimes of necromancers and whatever they do in their spare time

I don't know the intricacies of consent with ghosts or whatever, I can't be imparting judgment

it's not that, emperor john

it's because you're unpleasant war criminals who are killing planets for fun

well, the war criminal part I don't have hard evidence on rn but the situation doesn't seem to be in the favor of these people

I feel like when this man talks about the overall situation I'm getting a speech from emperor palpatine

emperor reverend john asks harrow, who has been awake for 25 years, to go to sleep

yeah, sure, she should go to sleep and wait for this guy to come by and try to kill her for the millionth time

meanwhile, harrowbean keeps collecting hours without sleep like

she makes, at the request of emperor camp counselor john, soup for everyone

I don't remember if it was here or before and I forgot but, this is extremely important

they mentioned cassiopeia being the one who cooked before

cassiopeia the same one with the ceramics collection, if I'm remembering correctly

cassiopeia who was also from the sixth, I think

camilla's house

she's checking every single one of my boxes like a sniper

why isn't she here, we're stuck with the grumpy one and the senior chad

ANYWAY, at the mention of harrow cooking I thought, immediately, "that's an awesome way to kill this guy"

I was picturing more like a poison type situation, although I didn't know how that could be achieved

something like this

but I should have known poison was too subtle for harrowcita

like I established back when protozoa's head was found in her closet, subtle isn't harrow's style

so it was more like this

basically, harrow sectioned her tibia to put some in the soup and then she could necrobend it so that it attacked from the inside

if I'm getting it right

insane plan and I love it

emperor john shadyman says "ten thousand years since I've eaten human being, Harrow, and I didn't really want an encore."

were they snacking on people during the Resurrection???

did they kill people by making lunch?????

???????????????????????????????????????????

"you think we're bad because we have sexy times with ghoulies?? uwu" that's the least of my concerns johnny john man

harrow then breaks down and asks straight to his face WHY THE FUCK MUST SHE SUFFER LIKE THIS

she calls herself a nonsense

the only nonsense here is what this emperor man speaks

she tells him she hasn't slept in six days

for a sleep deprived plan, it was excellent tbh

emperor man over here asks yandere twin to take her to sleep

and then stays with mercygirl to whom he says it's insane that harrow could do what she did and how did mercygirl miss that

this is the situation, as I have previously established

augustine looks at harrow "as if he had seen the ghost of someone he did not particularly like"

alleged gideon the first aka ortus salutes her on her way out

he doesn't even have heartburn

CHAPTER 26

we're back on gideon-less canaan house because it's time for more people to die

in ways that make 0 sense at all for what we know so far

regina george twin is pushed to her death by mayonnaise uncle

sounds fake to me

like, come on

regina george twin can probably murder that feeble guy on sight

we saw her spar with gideon, she wanted to be the cav that chad ended up being

she might not be a necro but she can stand her ground in a physical fight

mayonnaise uncle without duracell bunny nephew is like a sweaty guy on an anime con complaining about girls ruining everything while buying a maid figurine

she can take him

anyway, he does that and he says to her "and somewhere out there, may all the blood of your blood suffer even a fraction of what I have suffered"

now, this is weird

is he talking about yandere twin?

he wants revenge because yandere twin obliterated him?

is yandere twin "out there"?

I'd say this might be limbo BUT CAMILLA ISN'T DEAD

harrow is going to him and he says "she has not remembered her end" "is this how it happens then?"

and then he yeeted himself into space

that's what I wanted to do with not!dulcinea all along

so, yeah, well, this canaan business is getting more complicated now that it's not just people being shot

people are throwing themselves and others into space

and the memories of harrow in the emperor's bolthole aren't completely lining up with these

and mayonnaise uncle seemed to have been more aware of things than others around here?? or maybe just more forthcoming??? in that cryptic otaku way of his

also, no camilla at all still

Things are heating up in the emperor's bolthole, hope to come back soon with another one and thanks for the patience, hope it was worth it.

[strwbrrymnstrenrgy]

unorganized thoughts that i may turn into fics

✦konig meine frau✦

this man is a certified freak. like 7 days a week. i stand by the fact that it's always the quiet ones. most ppl look at him and are like 'aww subby inexperienced baby boy' (and usually so do i) but versatility yk. anyways i feel like he actually has a really long tongue, 👀 if yk what i mean. and loves edging, just not on himself because it frustrates him. anyways, back to the original plot of this post, i think he almost likes receiving as much as giving but emphasis on that almost.

he's a clit sucker, sorry not sorry to say it. and loves holding your hips against the bed so you can't squirm. one of my personal hc's is that he can play the piano really good and you know what they say about piano players........

overall he's just perfect. and don't even get me started on aftercare with him cause WHEW CHILE

hes just so. so hot.

i think his favorite part of it though is foreplay. only cause he gets to learn about what your turn ons are and where you want him to touch you. also he just really likes teasing. when you do it to him though, he becomes whiney and impatient, which leads me to my next thing,

KONIG IS A SUB LEANING SWITCH

it's just really easy to get him to fall apart under your touch, like i mentioned in the dick headcanons, he's very sensitive.

he loves kissing, licking and just being all over you and you being fully receptive of it. this man would struggle so hard in public to not do that. he understands that it's not socially acceptable in public but he just can't help it<3 i love him.

oral fixation konig? oral fixation konig.

he has to have his mouth on something, or be doing something to be comfortable. so usually you'd just let him suck your fingers or something to distract him (he just like me fr)

mommy kink konig? hear me out.

like imagining this 6'10 guy who's probably twice my age moaning under me and calling me mommy is just so. mmmm yummy

┆☆ghosty my love☆┆

hmmm where do i even start. yk i feel like i have to preface this by saying i don't feel like ghost and myself would work out if we're talkin about his canon personality so it's hard to write for him without it being heavily ooc.

like he's just too nonchalant. like it's not chalanting for me. where tf is the chalance at.

but anyways, i feel like he's a trial and error yk yk.

like when you're someone like ghost, pussy eating isn't gonna be the first thing on your mind.

so he'd have to practice on you. (that's a great fic idea right there) which ultimately leads to you not being able to walk the next morning but that's probably fine. ghost is so strong that he can probably just carry you anyways.

i feel like ghost would let out more emotion during sex. like he barely even blinks normally. but while he's in the reverse cowgirl position with you while everyone's asleep? expressive as hell.

over time, i feel like he knows your body better than you, when he's edging you, you don't even have to say anything for him to know you're about to cum.

he's very observant in that way.

i feel that ghost would be a hard dom. never a switch.

laughs a lot during sex. not like a full FYSUDUDIHFUGFUTDUYVHUJ type of laugh, just like a little chuckle and it's so attractive.

and and and! maybe it's a little muffled bc of his lips being pressed against your skin.

usually does that when he's like, deep in you and ofc you moan and grab at his hand that was right next to your head, cause he's just so overwhelming, but in a good way.

he def has to cum a few times to feel fully satisfied. pent up military man tings. but like remember when i said ghost has rlly thick cum. yeah. that.

always makes you feel so full. before, when he's shoving his thick fingers in you to prepare you for his cock, which is even bigger. during, when he's fucking his cum into you from the previous 3 rounds. and after, when you're still full from his cum as it drips down your thighs and you try to catch your breath.

he definitely loves making you horny on purpose, just to revel in how wet you are as if he has no idea what he does to you.

anyways part 2? cause i most definitely have more thoughts about this FINEEE man. (and konig, my wife, i didn't forget about her)

[alexa-fika]

Lasting Memories (Shanks x gn!child!reader)

A/N: Yall I am so sorry, I thought I had posted this earlier today but I just checked and I was like wait I din’t , oops. I think I COOKED, PLEASE TELL ME IF I COOKED OR NOT, read this post to see what it was inspired on, cause I don’t want to make you read it twice if ya already know

Dividers by @/Saradika

“Captain, there's a kid out there; they said they want to talk to you,” Yassop said, entering the bar

“Hmm? Hardly a place for a kid to be” he said glancing at the bar him and his crew were currently staying at

“I think you’re going to want to see this one,” he said, grinning

“Well, let’s have a look, can’t leave the kid hanging,” he said. The captain stretched his arm out. His eyes gleamed as he took one last gulp of his drink, walking behind his officer until they came outside of the bar where a small child sat at a bench swinging their legs until they spotted him coming out of the bar

They smile, jumping off the bench and facing the Captain, their bunny-like ponytails raising in happiness

“Are you Captain Shanks?”

“That’s me. And are you the one asking for me?” He says teasingly before he bends down, coming to their level.

“Yeah”

“And what’s your name?”

“Reader”

“Reader, and how old you are you, Reader?”

“Six”

“Six, young lass to be wandering around, what can I do for you?”

“Do…do you remember me?”

Shanks pauses; he tries to recall this child, this face.

“I’m afraid not, but you look somewhat familiar.”

They grin

“You were always Closer to sister; she was older; I was just two, so back then all I knew was that you meant home, safety.

Shanks furrows his eyebrows in thought

“Im sorry, Lass, but im not sure what you mean; who was your sister?”

“You must remember better her better, your former musician, Uta.”

Shanks's eyes widen as he is hit with the sudden realization. Of course, he’d never have forgotten about his daughter.

"You’re…."

“Hi, Dad, it’s been a while,” they said, tears pooling in their eyes

Shanks is utterly taken aback by this moment; his jaw completely drops in shock.

"Y-you're really...I always wondered what happened to you, and I never stopped looking, either. Look at you; you were but a tiny lass always glued to Uta’s arms last time i Saw you"

“Uta told me that sometimes she had trouble getting me out of your arms; she always talks about you, especially after the music guy took over her; she keeps saying how you saved her.”

Shanks's eyes light a loud laugh escaping him after hearing of Uta’s fond memories about him.

"I can't believe it, all of this time I spent searching. . I can't believe my little lass found me instead”

“After the bad guy, sister has been taking a well-deserved break from all the craziness, and well, I was wondering if maybe I can stay with you for a while until sister charges up?”

He grins, scooping the small child up and ignoring their surprised squeal as their feet left the ground, turning around to his crew, who had by now left the bar to see their captain’s reencounter with his child

“Lads, we got a crewmate back; this calls for a celebration!”

They look up at their father, a smile growing on their face as they continue staring at his features. It had been a long time, and they were small the last time they had seen him; the features had become blurred over the years, but now there was no hurry. They had no need to hold onto figments of past memories that needed to be puzzled together just to have a vague remembrance of what their father look as now they would have the chance to create new memories, to wake up and see the face in front of them rather than in their murky memories

“Hm? Do I have something on my face, lass?”

“No, im just happy I found you.”

Shanks gives a bright smile as he sees his kid’s happy expression.

“So are we just going to stand out here, you little rascal? Come on then,” Shanks says, carrying the small one on his hip back to his ship.

“You guys have better start being careful from now on; we’ve got ourselves a child on board,” he said, glancing back at his crew. The smile On his face, betraying any serious tone he was trying to portray

“But dad is the reckless one,” Reader piped in

“Hah? What are you trying to say, reader?! Ask Beck; I am the epitome of responsibility, right Beck?”

“No.”

“Hey! Reader, don’t listen to him; Uncle Beck is just being silly!” he fusses

“Be careful around that one; take your eyes off him, and you’ll end up on the sea.” Lucky Laughs

“OI”

Im sorry for starving you guys, I just started classes so I’ve been trying to get ahead as I always do but eventually when I get ahead I will be much laidback so I will be more consistent ( Hopefully)

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[warmblanketwhump]

hello hello! after an accidental hiatus, I'm back with an entry into the surrender an ask game that @save-the-villainous-cat and @epiclamer put together where we all swapped asks. thanks so much for doing this!!!

here's my ask: Hi! I’ve become obsessed with your Hero Gets Yanked By An Upstanding Citizen Into Their Window And Into Their Heart post and I was wondering if you could- maybe- on the off chance- if you have time- come back to it for another scene? I just love the duo’s dynamic so much, the lovable hero who is trying a little too hard at any given chance, and the citizen who is wholly unafraid to manhandle a superhero into their home and into their life. That’s the vibes I was getting from their short interaction anyway- I love them so much aaagugfyduhijigififiguftgb your writing makes me go insane” Submitted by @yourheartonfire

The hero checks once, twice behind their shoulders, then collapses on to the rickety fire escape. It's off the beaten path, away from anyone. Sure, there's a little prickle of guilt that it's a Saturday night, and there are probably dozens of crimes afoot that need their attention.

But the past few weeks have run them absolutely ragged. If they didn't know better, they'd think that someone was scheming against them deliberately. call after call, summons after summons, each one more dire than the last.

People count on them—people need them, and they like the feeling of being needed. But they're exhausting, aching, injured, absolutely spent. Their leg throbs with a recent injury that they haven't had time to treat, and they can't remember the last time they slept more than three hours at a time.

They lean their head back against the scarred brick of the apartment building, letting their eyes slip closed....

.....and when a wailing siren sounds in the distance, the hero tries not to whimper.

Get up. It's time to go.

And they do get up. Too quickly.

Their toe catches on the edge of the rickety fire escape, and before the hero can react, they're falling, tumbling, twisting, too exhausted and spent to do anything to stop the inevitable pull of gravity on their body.

The last thing they see is the extended metal overhanging of the fire escape before pain shot through their body, and darkness overtook them.

_________________

The hero hoped that when they awoke, they'd somehow find themselves in their own spase, yet comfortable bed, that the last two months had been just a nightmare.

Instead, they hear frustrated, disembodied grunts and feel someone pulling at them, tugging them over something hard and metal and painful for their aching body.

"Get...in...here..."

The hero wants to swat the hands away, but their limbs are dead weight at their sides, and their voice gets stuck in their throat when they try to cry out. So darkness falls again.

_________________

When the hero wakes a second time, they're aware of a throbbing in their bad leg and a pounding in their head, and an ache that's more painful than anything they've ever felt. They're in a dark room, save for a softly glowing salt lamp in the far corner, and they're aware of being tucked under a thick, soft blanket on some sort of couch or daybed.

It's comfortable, safe, warm—and wrong. They have no idea where they are or who they're with, nor how long they've been there, nor how many lives have been lost while they've been knocked unconscious.

They try to call out, but the "hey" comes out as more of a raspy whisper, and the blanket is far too heavy for them to toss from their broken body. In their efforts to move, something gets knocked over with a crash.

"Hey, hey, hey now, don't move. Shhhh." A figure darts into the room and the hero feels two hands against their shoulders, pressing them back into the bed.

"W--where..."

"You're....here. At my apartment. Figured I didn't want to leave you out on my fire escape all night." The shadowed figure flicks on another lamp and the hero winces, hand flying to touch their face—

Their bare face.

A strangled cry flees their throat. Not only have they failed their city, but someone's seen their face, seen how utterly, desperately ordinary they are beneath it all. This someone knows who they are and could ruin it all. Their eyes flicker up to see the stranger standing at the foot of their bed, holding their disguise tenderly in their hands.

"I'm so sorry....I didn't want to take it off, but you were bleeding from a pretty nasty forehead cut, and I didn't want to leave it too long." The stranger's hand lightly ghosts over their hairline, and the hero realizes there's some sort of thick bandage over where the throbbing is radiating from. "I won't tell a soul. Promise. If you have some sort of mind control....thing, you can even erase my memories, if you want, but you need like....a ton of medical attention first. I've done first aid and an outdoor wilderness survival class a couple times, but you probably need some kind of doctor, but I get if you don't want to do that with your identity and all that...."

"Won't....won't bother you" the hero slurs, trying to sit up again, before collapsing back down. Try as they might, they couldn't leave this cursed couch.

"Oh no, no, you're not bothering me at all. You just sorta...freaked me out, is all. And there was a TON of blood, and I couldn't just leave you there, so I just kinda—" the stranger motions with their hands "yanked you right in here, did some first aid, and here we are." The stranger adjust the blankets, tucking the hero in tighter. "You looked pretty banged up."

I supposed I did, the hero muses to themselves. "It's....been a rough few weeks. But I'm okay."

"You sure?" The stranger's brows furrow, and their hand gestures to their leg. "I'm no doctor, but that gash on your leg looks...pretty bad. Shouldn't someone be looking after that?"

Hero hears the subtext of the question. Shouldn't someone be looking after YOU?

The hero isn't quite sure what to say to that. How long has it been since someone tended their wounds, tucked them in, brought them in from the elements, and asked how they were?

"I'm....I'm alright." Hero's mortified to hear the smallest wobble in their voice.

"Hero, that's not what I asked." The stranger's voice is firm, yet gentle, their hand resting on their uninjured knee.

"Right." The hero sniffles, suddenly unable to speak.

The stranger seems to understand the thousand thoughts of the hero's mind that flood the silence, then gently pats their other uninjured leg. "Well, in that case, it's time we get started now that you're awake. I'll get the bandages, and we'll really get you cleaned up and take stock of how much healing you've got ahead of you. No promises, though—I told you, it's only a couple first-aid classes, so don't you judge my wound dressings."

Hero's suprised to hear their own thin, crackly laugh. "Wouldn't dare."

[sanjisbby]

EXPECTATION | Vinsmoke Ichiji

warnings: nsfw, mdni, f!reader, angst, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, unestablished relationship, english is not my first language.

word count: 1,089

a/n: i posted this once but it got flagged

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The room is filled with the clapping sound of your skin meeting his and his deep groans mix with your moans. With your face against the pillow and your ass up, his rough hands locking both of your hands on your back, bringing you to meet his thrust.

“Ichiji-sama, slow down.” You say with tears in your eyes and whimpers leaving your mouth. He has been pounding into you for about an hour and you are already on your third orgasm.

He grabs you by your neck, your back meets his hard chest. “Shut up.” He says in your ear.

You and Ichiji have a complicated relationship. Well, you can't call it a relationship to begin with. And he makes it very clear that you can’t see other person when he’s still fucking you. You don't even remember how it started. You are just a servant at Germa Kingdom. Your whole day routine used to be waking up, cleaning or helping, being bullied by the princes (Niji and Yonji mostly), and repeat. but now its waking up, cleaning or helping, being fucked by Ichiji, and repeat.

You didn’t even ask him why would he fuck you. You thought maybe he just needed a stress reliever and it just happened to be you. It could be anyone. This ‘relationship’ has been going on for almost a year. But recently, you started to feel that this whole stress reliever thing is more than just a stress reliever thing. He usually calls for you randomly, but usually twice a week if he’s not on a raid. For the first couple of months, you didn’t care about your appearance in front of him whenever the both of you were doing it, you even prayed for him to not to ask for you. Not that you’re not enjoying sex with him, sex with Ichiji is great but he’s rough and merciless, it usually leaves you with pain in between your thighs for a day or two. And now, every night, you start to prepare yourself by shaving, doing make up, or spraying some perfume just in case he wants to call for you. And whenever he doesn't ask for you for a week or longer than usual, you're starting to get a pit in your stomach and asking the other servant about his whereabouts.

But you know your place. You are just a servant, more like his personal sex doll, so why would he care about what you feel?

He pulls out, then with his hand around your neck, he flips you around and throws you so that you're laying on your back. Before you can even react, he pulls you toward him by your leg. He places your leg on his shoulder, he grabs his dick and quickly thrusts it inside you. He hovers over you so that your knee meets your chest.

His thrust is hard and deep, you can feel his tip meet your cervix every time he pounds into you. You let out loud moans, feeling overstimulated. Both of his hands are beside your head. Each of his hands holding each of your hands.

You look up to see his face. His face is serious, his long red hair is tied up into a ponytail with some of the strands sticking out. You can see his pretty blue eyes. He doesn’t wear his sunglasses, he started not using it after the first month of this ‘relationship’, which surprised you at first, not only because of how pretty they are, but also because not many people have seen his eyes, but you get to see his eyes without even asking. And let's be real, having sex with sunglasses on is pretty awkward. You move your gaze to his big and muscular body. You can see a thin layer of sweat, he is so close to you that you could just grab him by the neck and kiss him. But of course you won't do that. You don't have a death wish.

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel his face in your neck. He sucks on your neck, biting and marking you. This position hurts, your leg is still on his shoulder, but you don't care.

You feel yourself getting close, he can feel it too by how tight your walls are sucking him now. He let go of your hands. He straightens his back, putting down your leg that’s on his shoulder. He bents both of your legs, holding you by the back of your thighs, he fastens his thrust.

Reaching your climax, you let out an embarrassing high pitched moan. Not long after that, he releases himself inside you. He waits inside you until he releases all of it. Then, he pulls himself out of you. He stays there spreading your legs more, with a proud smirk on his face, he’s watching some of his thick cum make its way out of you, dripping into the bed. You feel yourself getting hot from the embarrassment.

You feel him move his hand up and down your leg in a small movement, it almost feels like a rub. He quickly lets go of your leg and stands up, searching for his clothes on the floor.

You are sprawled out on the bed. You let out heavy breaths from how exhausting the sex was. “You can show yourself out.” He says in a cold voice while putting his boxer on.

You felt a sting in your heart. It would be a lie if you said it doesn't hurt. It's always like this every other night, he told you to leave as soon as possible, but somehow this time it hurts. You don't know what you expected. Maybe deep down you were expecting him to ask you if you're okay, maybe you were expecting him to tell you that you can stay, or maybe, you were expecting him to pull you to his chest then stroke your hair until you fall asleep. But that's very stupid of you to be expecting such a thing from him.

You swallow a lump in your throat then you push yourself up with both hands, you let out a hiss when you feel a sting in between your thighs. You stand up with wobbly legs, searching for your night dress on the ground, then quickly putting it on. With trembling legs, teary eyes, and his cum between your thighs, you walk toward the door and make an exit.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[saetgvia]

spark | wriothesley

in which you and wriothesley find an unlikely spark.

CHAPTER ONE: A NOT SO MEET-CUTE

prince!wrio x fem!noble!reader, invented country au

✧ genre: fluff, angst...? maybe...? if you squint...?, arranged marriage trope

✧ tw: none, if you see any lmk <3

✧ word count: 1.32K

✧ playlist: spark - taeyeon, radio - lana del rey, deja vu - txt, darl+ing - seventeen, invu - taeyeon, agora hills - doja cat, killin' me good - jihyo, i like you (a happier song) - doja cat & post malone, fever - enhypen, eleven - ive, hype boy - newjeans, hard to love - rose, sour grapes - le sserafim, oh my god - adele, my head & my heart - ava max, nonsense - sabrina carpenter, the feels - twice

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

i. a not so meet-cute

'what.' you stare in disbelief at your parents. 'there's no way. NO. WAY.' arranged marriages only happen in books. of course you'd heard of them in your country of azura, some distant cousin being married to some lord or other for alliances or whatever, but you'd always been free to do what you wanted, marry who you chose. your parents never put any restrictions on you, but this out of the blue is so- 'unexpected! what? i thought-' 'circumstances change.' your father replies shortly. 'i- you- you can't do this!' you cry, becoming more and more panicked. you wanted to fall in love, marry someone you chose! and now, you were going to be pawned off to someone you didn't even know. wait...

'can you at least tell me who i'm being given away to?' 'you're not being given away-' 'oh mom, it's fine. i know how this works. so, who is it?'

wriothesley. the prince of emeia. a name that struck fear into your very soul. not because he was a terrible ruler or a womaniser. he was, in fact, the complete opposite. you'd heard tales from all over the kingdom in the form of gossiping ladies giggling behind fans, sipping their tea and gushing to your mother. she, in turn, laughed daintily, and turned to you with a pointed look. how could she even know? his parents kept him hidden away from the world, their precious son too perfect for mere commoners. no, you were afraid because you didn't know him. because he seemed too good to be true. and most of all, because he was about to become your life. you should have seen this coming.

'i won't go.'

your father's eyes narrow, and you can see his neatly trimmed beard bristling in anger. you've never seen him like this before, and over something as silly as an arranged marriage? your mother puts a placating arm on his bicep, and he shoots her a look, both of them communicating through their gaze. finally, he exhales, evidently trying to calm himself, and speaks.

'we... we're in debt. remember that deal with ceria? the cherry liqueur? they've been selling it for exorbitant prices without giving us any of the profits, and we've been depending on that to get us out of last winter's snowstorms. emeia noticed us struggling and have so kindly offered to refill our coffers in exchange for your hand.' there's a hint of annoyance in his tone, and you begin to understand just how much this is weighing on him. but still, how can you throw your life away like that?

'i'll think about it.'

⭑⭑⭑

'but i don't WANT to!' you shriek into your pillow, kicking your feet in true spoiled girl fashion. your maid, or rather, your friend, giselle, winces, and tries to comfort you.

'hey, maybe it won't be so bad! everyone says he's a sweetheart!'

'but everyone ISN'T BEING MARRIED OFF TO HIM!'

'think about your parents, hon! you can always divorce him later, run away, fake your own death-'

she breaks off at your deadpan gaze, and starts to giggle, until you start to giggle, and you're both in your bed cackling uncontrollably. you wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, and look at giselle over the rumpled sheets, her eyes twinkling, and you wish there were more people like her in the world. sitting up, you clasp her hands between yours, and trace the lines on her weathered palm. you exhale, and make up your mind. you have to marry wriothesley.

'giselle... i'll marry wriothesley. but only if you come with me.'

⭑⭑⭑

'woah woah woAH-' you cry as you stumble. your beautiful, floor-length cherry-red dress, so stunning to look at when you were standing in one place, was nothing but a nuisance when you were walking. for comfort, you'd opted for soft velvet flats instead of the heels sent for you; you could see the flaws in this decision now. but instead of breaking your nose, you're met with shoes. shiny leather shoes, buckled with silver, and a pair of strong - warm - arms gripping your own. slowly raising your head, your eyes land on a beautiful face. chiseled jawline, chiseled nose, chiseled forehead, somehow his neck is also chiseled. but his lips, so plump and pink and soft, and his eyes, like chips of blue ice, hold a twinkle of mirth.

'woah there, careful. wouldn't want you to get hurt.'

his voice is honey, smooth and sweet, and it washes over your ears. you can't stop staring, enthralled by his gaze.

'cat got your tongue?'

you snap out of your daze, realising you're still half on the mysterious stranger, and stumble backwards. you brush your hands over your dress, the gold embroidery rough under your fingers.

'sorry. i uh- i have to go.'

you picked up your skirts and hurried back towards the throne room. you didn't think you could get so lost trying to go to the bathroom! stopping before a mirror adorning the wall, you take a quick look at your appearance. the crimson dress fit your figure wonderfully, golden embroidery curling up the sides and front of your dress, forming a pattern of flames that ended just below your neckline. your hair, so lustrous and thick, had managed to escape its tight bindings, so you gasp heavily as you catch your breath and tie your hair up at the same time, the ribbon cherry-red to match your dress. adjusting yourself one final time, you nod to the guards outside to open the door for you, and walk into the throne room.

you're once again taken by surprise at the grandness of it all. absolutely everything inside is scarlet, a stark contrast to the cool blue drapes of azura. you'd always found it funny how blue was your dukedom's colour and yet your primary export was cherries, something so very opposite. the floor, carpeted in lush red and cream formed a pathway up to the raised thrones, all three of them cushioned by velvet and adorned with gold scrollwork and filigree. behind the thrones and all around, rich tapestries decorate the walls, vermilion depictions of the kingdom's greatest victories. you weren't sure if they were there to celebrate or intimidate. maybe both. a big, booming laugh reaches your ears, and your gaze is drawn to the antechamber towards the back of the room. ah, so that's where they've gone to. you scurry towards the chamber, nodding with as much regal-ness as you could muster towards the servants who caught your eye and sank into a deep curtsy or bow. straightening your dress, again, out of habit, you step into the room.

your parents are laughing, your father releasing his great guffaw and your mother tittering behind her gloved hand. the king of emeia, a warm, welcoming person with greying ebony hair and soft blue eyes was telling some kind of story, while his wife, the queen, sat, watching the scene with adoration and satisfaction. the queen noticed you first, her brown eyes crinkling into a sweet smile as she noticed you.

'oh there you are! we were wondering where you'd gone.'

'sorry... i got a little lost.' you take your seat on another velvet sofa, picking up your cup of tea. the servants appeared to have brought more plates of food in, the table once again covered in delicate china piled high with macarons and pastries and little sandwiches cut into perfect triangles. you pick up one of the treats, a golden swirl of pastry with colourful fruit peeking out, and bite into it. it's heavenly, deliciously flaky and sweet on your tongue. you pick it up and munch happily on it again.

'ah, here he is. wrio! here is the girl we wish for you to marry.'

you choke. because when you look up, you see the same chiseled features, the same lips, the same eyes and the same smile.

'THAT'S wriothesley?'

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from saetgvia: i have never started writing a fic so fast oh my god??? very excited for this fic and i hope you are too <3 stay tuned will have part 2 coming out soon!

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please like and reblog my work! tumblr relies on reblogs to function, so help my work be seen by more people <3 my spark taglist and overall is now open, drop an ask if you want to be added! just specify which one.

© saetgvia 2024. do not copy or repost.

[dira333]

As always, here with a request for my bby Asahi for your plotbunny game❤️❤️

For you, my love, something special:

The Muse

Recently I've been thinking about Asahi as a muse. Yes, yes, I know he's the designer. But think about it. He's into fashion, he's going to dress well.

So you spot him in the streets, trenchcoat following him like the cape of a superhero or the trail of a wedding dress, and his hair, swallowing the sun, dropping from his head like Molasses. He's so strikingly beautiful that you just stop in the middle of the sidewalk and take pictures.

And of course, you can't just post these like that, you have to know if he's okay with that, so you run after him, reach him, finally, at the door to a coffee shop, and he doesn't hear you at first, your breathless mumbles over the noise of the people inside and the people outside, and all the cars rushing by.

"I'm so sorry, do you need help?" He asks, leaning closer, his breath washing over your face and you want to take another picture, like that, his face so close, his eyes so dark you fear you're going to drown in them.

"You're really pretty," you manage to get out, "I took some pictures for my blog, can I... can I post them?"

And then there's laughter, the heavy slap of a hand on his shoulder that almost pushes him into you, face into face - and maybe lips on lips?

"Did you hear that, Asahi? She thinks you're pretty. Why's no one taking pictures of me, huh?"

"Stop it, Suga!" The man, Asahi, it was - mumbles, his cheeks pink.

"Come on," Suga's grin is all sharp and teasing, though his eyes are warm and confident. He reminds you of a lioness or a crow. intelligent, though never with ill intent. "Sit with us. Show us the pictures."

Asahi agrees, over cups of overpriced coffee and your camera passed around, that you can post the pictures. He can't get enough of them, too, picking up the camera again and again for another look, pulling out a notepad to sketch something until he remembers he's got company and puts it away again, flustered, blushing up to the tips of his ears. He's incredibly cute and you want to do it gain, this, drinking coffee with him and his friends, but also that moment outside, when you'd seen him and time stopped, maybe permanently.

-

The next time is at the park.

You asked for his number and he asked for a chance to show you his newest collection.

You arrive a little early, get lost in the sea of fresh green and budding flowers. You spot him by accident, lying halfway behind a bush, trying to get a picture of a camera-shy squirrel.

He's standing in a circle of trees, their arms outstretched as if they are praying to him. Asahi's well dressed and while your followers are probably going to appreciate the outfit inspo on the picture, you can't stop snapping pictures of the way he looks up, face angled in a way that leaves his neck open, vulnerable... kissable.

Later, after you've climbed out of your hiding spot, the squirrel forgotten, after you've gone through his designs, you go through the pictures together.

Your heart beats painfully in your chest at each shot that appears on the screen. To you it's painfully clear, but you wonder if he sees it, the adoration seeping through.

He goes back and forth again, looks twice, three times over all the pictures, ignores the sound of his phone in his pocket.

If you hadn't been looking for it, you might have missed the redness spreading over his skin. You might have missed the way he leans into you as if trying to communicate over touch.

"You can post them... if you want."

"I won't do it," you tell him, voice soft and almost breathless. "Not all of them, I mean. Some are too... personal, to me."

Asahi smiles, soft and warm, like hot cocoa. The back of his hand knocks into yours and you grab it, eagerly, greedily, as if you'd been longing for it all of your life and only just now realized it.

"Can we do this again?" He asks on the way out of the park, hands swinging between you too. "I have some more designs I want to show you."

You think of them, how they had resembled you more than his usual stuff - because of course you googled his work the moment you said goodbye at the coffee shop - how your pictures had been more of him than fashion, and you nod.

"Yes. I'd love that.

-

When you step into the Genkan of your new apartment, there's a picture hanging on the opposite wall. Many visitors have commented on it, though you like to smile secretively when they ask what it's about.

A river of dark brown running over a canvas of milk? Brown silk over Linen? A painting, resembling your favorite colors?

They all get it wrong.

It's Asahi's hair, running smooth and heavy over his skin, his exposed temple, the side of his face that you kissed just moments prior. He'd been sleeping and the sunlight had hit him just right and the camera had been there and...

After all this time, he's still your favorite - perhaps only - muse.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[davenporttf]

All-Star Catcher

My name is Alan and I'm the star shortstop for my small college team. I've always dreamed of making it in the big leagues. I don't remember a time when I didn't have a glove in my hand. There's just something about having this uniform on that makes me stoked for the day. I've trained all day every day since I was a kid until the lamp posts came on and my mom or friends telling me to wrap it up for the day. Even my girlfriend gets jealous sometimes that I don't spend enough time with her. I feel guilty but if I'm being honest, she's second to my love for the game.

It's Friday and we're towards the end of our game against the college across town. They don't stand a chance against our team, but especially my quick moves in the field. They can't get any balls past me! My blood is rushing with adrenaline and I'm feeling confident.

That's when I noticed in the stands some older guys with notepads looking my way. Shit, there are scouts here! This could be big for me as I've always dreamed of being drafted by an MLB team. I push away their presence and focused on the game. The batter then slams a ball my way and I instinctually jump to catch it before it rolls into the outfield. The crowd and my team go crazy! It was the game ending play. My team rushes to lift me up into the air and I can't help but notice the scouts smiling my way.

I'm walking out of the locker rooms still in my uniform feeling the after-game buzz when one of the scouts approaches me.

"Hey there! You're Alan right? Michael Right from the NY Mets. Crazy catch you got there at the end!"

"Thanks so much! It was a lucky save." I said modestly.

"Nonsense! You really have something kid. If you're interested, I'd like you to meet some players from the Mets. We love to see how future prospects mesh with our team."

I was stunned. "I would love that!" Meeting the Mets was a dream for a local town kid such as myself.

"Great! I'll book you on a flight to see them before their big game tomorrow. Some of the players could really use someone with your kind of catching skills."

That last line didn't quite make sense since I didn't think catching was what I was known for, but I would agree to anything to meet the team and make a name for myself.

_____________________________________

It's the next day and I'm being escorted up to the dugout by Michael. It's a few hours before their game and the players are shooting the shit while beginning their stretches. Michael has been so kind to me, and he's even told me about the recent slump the Mets have been in. He's hoping some fresh blood will bring back the mojo for the team.

"Cody! Come over here. I'd love for you to meet Alan, one of our prospects." Michael yelled over to this good looking guy from the opposite side of the dugout. I'm not gay, but even I can tell he's not sleeping alone most nights.

"Sup! I'm Cody. You must be Alan. Michael's told me a lot about you." He shook my hand and gave me a pat on the back. I was enamored and if I'm being honest, a little turned on. My girl would get a kick if she knew I thought that even for a second. I shook it from my head and chalked it up to the star power.

We talked some more and Cody then offered to have me stretch with them. I couldn't believe it, and instantly jumped to join them. I was already in my uniform per Michael's request. I found it strange at first but figured it would help the team picture me among them.

We started with with arm stretches. ""You'll need bigger arms if you hope to be on the team." Cody commented. At that moment I was surprised to see my arms beginning to stretch and bulk. I was freaked out but remained silent as I didn't want to embarrass myself. My arms were twice times the size and I was feeling energy flowing from my arms to my back.

"Maybe even do some lat pulldowns here and there. They really help stabilize your center." Cody continued. He was looking me over while he stretched.

I felt my back start to contract and pull. My back was beginning to fill out my shirt more and I stood up straighter. I began to quietly moan from the pleasure of my abs molding into a carved six pack and my pecs swelling until they were perky. Fuck! What is happening to me?!

I looked over to Cory to see if he noticed the changes. I started to notice just how handsome he was. The fuck? Am I bi? I tried to compare him to my girlfriend but I was having a hard time picturing her. All I could think of was how Cody's arms flexed to fill up his sleeves. Fuck, he was pretty hot.

"Let's see if you can touch your toes. A good base is important. Those hamstrings and glutes are really going to come in handy as well." Cody said as I began to reach for my toes.

Once I tapped my toes I felt my feet begin to expand. Bones started to crack and my shoes were being pushed past their limits. Soon my feet burst through my cleats growing to at least a size 13! I could feel Cody eyeing them lustfully. I started to imagine Codys face in the soles of my feet when the pressure in my cup started increasing. The moan from my mouth was louder now, and I was filling with lust for Cody. I wanted him to peg me down so badly.

My thoughts were interrupted by my legs starting to fill up the remaining space in my pants. The uniform material was stretching to its max and my ass was forming into a round perky bubble butt.

I stood up and began taking the changes in. I was beefy and feeling insanely powerful.

Cody walked over smiling "Looks like you'll give us just the boost we need. All the guys here love to pitch, but you'll make for a solid catcher."

He smacked me on my ass and I almost fell to my knees in pleasure. Fuck, I wanted to show my gratitude for the team so badly. Cody gave me another smack and whispered in my ear "Show me what you've got rookie."

I smiled at my new teammates and showed them what was waiting for them after each game.

[luveline]

whenever youre free!! can you please write a spencer x reader where we meet spencer during an early season where he’s still cute and awkward maybe we date too but something happens and we don’t see him for a long time only to meet him again when he’s older and hotter (post prison) and there’s still crazy tension after all those years. in love with your writing btw!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok :D ♡ 1.2k

cw vaguely suggestive theme

Looking at Spencer, you could almost think you were fresh out of college again, unsure of yourself and in need of a friend. 

He'd been much more than a friend. It's why you're here. 

The cake might have been a bad idea. You hold it between two hands, the subtle smell of chocolate rising from the box's ill-fitting lid. Your breath catches, words coming out wonky, "Hey. Spencer?" 

He looks up from his book, startled at being found, you think. "Y/N?" 

He looks the same. 

Obviously, he's older. He has facial hair and his curls are styled rather than having been left to their own devices, but you feel as hopelessly enamoured with him as you had years ago, because he still smiles like a puppy dog.

You're twice as surprised as he is when he stands from his coffee table to hug you. The cake box wobbles in your hands as he squeezes you, swaying you from side to side, his laugh warm in your ear. 

"What are you doing back here?" he asks, diving backward to see your face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." 

"I still had JJ's number, you know, from when I wanted that address, and she texted me to say you'd been released, and I," —your voice curls tighter, are you talking too much?— "know you might not want to hear from me, but I was worried about you. You were my best friend." 

His smile flickers. You press the cake into his hands. 

"That's for you," you say. 

Spencer's wavering smile turns to the box. He sets it down on the table beside his coffee cup and tented book, removing the lid carefully. You remember suddenly how nice his hands are, and the tracing of his fingertips down your bare shoulders. Goosebumps erupt along the ghost of his touch. 

"Well done on not being a criminal," he reads, snorting. "Funny. Little too soon." 

You feel like your stomach's fallen out, but he drops the act with another laugh. 

"Oh, you're still a jerk," you say. "I'm glad something hasn't changed." 

"You think I've changed?" he asks. 

"You didn't get any taller, if that's what you're asking." 

Spencer's smile turns fond. It's the sweet, sticky smile he'd always give you before he'd tell you he loved you, or that you were the best best friend ever. Or that last night, when you followed him hand in hand down the long hallway to his bedroom. 

"I wasn't that much of a jerk, was I?" he asks. 

"No, you weren't." You hold your hands behind your back. "Could I join you? Just for a bit?" 

"You brought me a cake. I can't say no, can I? Of course you can sit down. I'll get you a coffee, okay?" 

He touches his hand to your arm as he passes. You sit down in the seat across from him, sick with what-if and should-have. What if I could've stayed? Maybe I should have done more. But when Spencer ignored the letters you sent him while he was incarcerated, you figured you'd done more than he wanted. The cake was a last ditch effort, spurred on by JJ's text that read, I think he'd be really happy to see you. 

Spencer puts a china cup down in front of you. You take a sip, muscle memory, and grin at him shyly as he slides into the seat across from you. "You remembered." 

"I remember everything." 

"Right. Your photographic memory." 

"Eidetic, and sure, but I wouldn't forget about you." He reads your shyness for what it is, worry you've overstepped. He's too perceptive to trick. "I think I tried, but… I have so many bad memories, I wanted the good ones to keep." 

You can't imagine the things he experienced in prison. JJ couldn't tell you much. You knew from how you had to address his letters alone that he was sent to a general correctional facility in Mexico, rather than the protective custody he'd needed. He doesn't look terrible considering, but you've barely seen him since you had to leave. He's aged well. The only worry is his dark under eyes. 

"We had a good time," you say gently. "I knew you'd need that. That's why I sent you all those letters, you know? I wasn't trying to come back into your life, I know I don't deserve it after I left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you by yourself." 

You stare at his book. 

"How many letters did you send?" he asks. 

"I don't really remember." 

"I didn't get one." He grimaces. "I didn't get any from my mom, either. Think it was a coincidence?" 

Spencer's time in was kind of sick. He stabbed himself, made friends with criminals, played a lot of chess, and learned how to make tacos in a doritos bag. It was also arguably the loneliest and most degrading time of his life. 

One coffee becomes two, two becomes a third to go. You feel a hundred emotions but there's one that stands out the most as you drift around Pentagon City with him —wanting. You want him to be your best friend again, to rub your back and hold you when you're tired, to take you grocery shopping in his beat up P130. You want him to kiss you like he had, like he was searching for something, but he's changed so much that you don't know if your Spencer is still in there, under everything, or if he'd even want to.

"You live in the same apartment?" you ask. 

"Can you imagine how much it would cost me to move that many books? Paying the rent turns out cheaper," he says, the two of you walking in the grey street. "What about you? You didn't come all the way here to see me." 

"I actually did." You rub up the length of your upper arm, sheepish. "I did, Spencer." 

For a while, all you can hear is the plastic rustling of the bag held in his hand. 

"Thank you for writing to me. I didn't get to read them, but it makes a difference." 

You lift your head to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, a charge behind his dark brown eyes. You used to think his irises and his pupils were one and the same, but you can see now that there are flecks of light in his irises. His hedging of thick lashes kiss in the corners as he slowly, slowly smiles. 

You glare at him. "Don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"You know what. You're doing that thing. Pretending you're not trying to make me nervous." 

"I'm not doing that. Flustered, but not nervous." Is he smirking?

"Flustered," you repeat, your smile stupidly big now, cheeks aching. "Yeah, right, Reid."

His pinky brushes yours. You don't have any proof that he's doing it purposefully, but he is. 

"Do you want to get something to eat? You can tell me what you were writing in your letters. I'd really, really like to know." His voice is threaded with a familiar timidity for the first time since you reunited. 

There you are, you think happily. "Sure. You buy me a sticky bun from our old place and I'll tell you all my written secrets." 

"Deal." 

[aihoshiino]

Da Vinci Magazine Jan. 2024: A Q&A with Ai of B-Komachi!

In the January 2024 issue of Da Vinci magazine, there was an in-character interview with Ai as written by Aka Akasaka that you can read a translation of here! What I forgot to mention on that initial post is that there was also a little lightning round Q&A the original anon didn't translate at the time. Thankfully, they did post it and I just... completely forgot it existed until now. ;9 Shout out to past me who remembered to save it and kept me from having to dig thru the 4chan archives for it...

Unlike the original interview, this is my translation! So any goofs and gaffes are entirely on me lol. This is also totally spoiler safe, so you can read both this Q&A and the original interview no matter what point you are in the series.

Get to Know Ai Better! Q&A Session

Q. What motto do you live by?

A. I really like "Tomorrow is a new day." I'm one of those people who forgets all their worries after a good nights' sleep. (laughs)

Q. Tell us how you refresh yourself!

A. I like taking naps on my days off. I was saying earlier that I forget my worries once I've gotten some sleep but with this job, it can be hard to find the time to actually do it. Not just that, but lately I've been waking up in the night to take care of this and that, so when I do have the time to sleep, I really conk out.

Q. What is your routine on days off?

A. I wake up, prep some milk… oh, um - I like cornflakes so I always need milk for breakfast. Then I go for a nap (laughs). I know some of the other B-Komachi members like going to beauty salons or nail salons, but I don't do nails and I let my hair grow out so I'm usually just at home (laughs). I even cut my own bangs! I've been doing it for years so I'm pretty good at it. I've even cut other peoples' hair once or twice, though not anyone in B-Komachi.

Q. Your 20th birthday's coming up soon. What are you looking forward to doing once it arrives?

A. I want to try drinking alcohol. The president of my agency keeps saying, "I can't wait to have a drink with you!" He makes it sound like a lot of fun, so I'm curious to know what getting tipsy's like.

Q. What book left the biggest impression on you this year?

A. It's a manga, but I was moved to tears by "I'll Go With Sweet Today". The heroine is a girl who distrusts people and develops anorexia, becoming terrified of eating… I have a bit of that in me too, though not quite to the same extent she does, so I could really relate to her and her journey to recovery really moved me. If there's ever a live-action version, I'd love to play her!

Q: What would you like to do after the Dome concert?

A: I'd like to go on a trip or something. Where would be nice... Oh, I've heard of 'Mito Natto' before, so maybe Mito!

Q: What's something a fan said that made you happy?

A. You know, I didn't used to read any fan letters at all. But there was a time I was getting tired of being an idol and I was planning to quit, so the president made me sit down and read all the letters I'd gotten. That was the first time I'd ever realized just how much support I was getting and it made me go "in that case, I'll give them all my love and support in return!". I even wrote a song about it. So now I treasure all the letters and words I get from my fans. I actually got a gift from a fan recently, some 'star sand'. It was really beautiful and my real name "star" in it, it made me really happy. I've still got it displayed in my room.

Q: What is "true love" to you?

A. I guess if I had to sum it up, I'd say true love is being a genius who doesn't lie. I think maybe people lie to avoid lying. I'm not sure if that's a good answer and even I don't know if it makes sense, but it's just something I feel.

Q: Do you think you're a liar?

A: Hmm~~? That's a se~cret! (laughs)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Was I the AH for making a joke no one told me they didn't like?

This happened back when I was 12.

I was pretty... not popular, but friends with a lot of semi-popular figures in a certain fandom. I know you aren't supposed to be on social media until you're 13 and all that, but it was a good while ago [2019ish] and I was a kid who never made friends IRL.

One of my friends [16, I think?] had a delusion [it was a diagnosed disorder they had and told me about, if I remembered I would tell you, MAYBE OSDD but I think it was something else] that they were one of the characters from the show the fandom was about.

I had other friend groups into the same show, and I would often make jokes "pretending" to be one of the characters [usually just posting a memed up version of a screencap and mimicking the speech pattern of the character], which would land well and make them laugh, so I saw no issue using this joke around the friend with delusions [who I'll call Lucas]. I only did it twice.

The first time I didn't notice anything different, but the second time they started treating me like this character [who I later learnt but didn't know at the time Lucas recalled having memories of being in a romantic relationship with]. Lucas was the only person I knew who had these types of delusions, so I didn't know what to do and just went along with it until they, uh... "snapped out of it", I guess?

Soon after, I was added to a group chat with a few other people. All of them were 16, except for who we'll call Dawn, who was 12 or 13, and who was the leader of their whole group. I'll call the other people Rosa [someone who I had gotten in a huge argument with before for a reason I don't remember but I think she started it and I overreacted, if this was about that it'd probably be YTA or ESH, but I apologized and we didn't really talk anymore], and Nate [someone who I hadn't ever talked to outside of a large group setting]. Lucas was also there in this group chat.

They were staging an... intervention? They were basically making me explain my actions and were telling me how I was a horrible person for "tricking Lucas into thinking I was this character". Lucas wasn't very responsive to the situation, and I was pretty sure Dawn was the one who orchestrated the whole thing and roped Lucas into it, maybe as a confidant or something like that. Rosa brought up how awful I was to her before, and how she never forgave me even though I thought she did. Nate also brought up how "aggressive and violent" I was, citing one of the only times I had talked to him [which I thought was just a funny way to greet someone, akin to like "*knocks a door off its hinges and it explodes everywhere, I take several minutes trying to put it back together but it clearly isn't done well* Hi guys"], using a screenshot he had taken MONTHS prior and had been saving for that moment, he told me.

I was supposed to go out shopping, so I couldn't keep on checking my phone without my parents getting suspicious of me. I was also hyperventilating and kept on having to take breaks to make sure I didn't freak out. I kept on trying to reply to things in chronological order, and they were getting more and more progressively upset. I told them the first part about my parents getting suspicious, and one of them even told me that "your parents should know what kind of sick fuck you are, maybe then you'll understand your actions." Eventually, we DID go shopping, and I couldn't reply for several hours.

When I got back, Dawn and Rosa had made several call out posts on their social media each, and I had several DMs from other people about it. I couldn't read the posts, and all I did was deactivate my account. I couldn't post art I had done online until about a year ago, couldn't even think about the show until a few months ago when my friend wanted to try it out, and I still can't go onto that social media platform because it makes me so nervous and I can't breathe, afraid that someone will recognize me even now and "expose me". Lucas wanted to keep in touch, but they were a bit clingy and only came to me when they were having mental breakdowns. I couldn't handle the constant reminders, so I eventually deleted their number.

Note: while I am very safe about my identity online, these people [at least Dawn, since she said how old she was before me and even showed pictures of herself in cosplay online before, she WAS very 12] did know what age I was [I had lied about it before then to other people].

I still feel really bad about this, and I was wondering if I really was being an asshole. Maybe I was just being biased because I was the one being persecuted? I don't know. Maybe I was the AH because I was suffering from the horrible illness sweeping the nation called being 12 years old?

I'm sorry if this is a little silly, but I'm 17 now and this is still a part of my past I'm ashamed of.

Could you tag this post "12 year old confrontation" so I can find it? Thank you. Sorry, again.

What are these acronyms?

[restinslices]

Hello! Could you do the Lin Kuei trio with a g!n reader asking them to dance? Like what you did with the earthrealm boys!

You finna be real disappointed 😭

My phone storage still in hell so no pics. I need to make a moodboard for everyone or smth

Bi-Han

No

There's legit nothing else for me to say 

Listen, I know I make him sweeter than he actually is a lot but I can't make my fingers type some shit like “yeah! he'd totally be for it!”

You could be the apple of his eye, the reason he woke up in the morning, the oxygen in his lungs, the wind under his wings, his cinnamon apple, and he'd still tell you no 

“Absolutely not” to be more specific 

You think Bi-Han, the mf with a huge ego, is always serious and damn near has Batman's voice is gonna boogie? It's wishful thinking but the answer is no 

Especially for a video? Get the fuck-

The best you'll get is him listening to the song 

Which isn't all that good because he's the type to say “I'm listening” and is very much NOT  listening 

“I'm listening” *starts vacuuming*

He likes slower music so he'll “listen” to that 

I get it, y'all want me to say he'd be super sweet but babe at some point the delusion is so delusional we gotta snap out of it 

He wouldn't even have a favorite song because like I said, he's not listening much. Instead of hearing lyrics, he just keeps thinking “I can't believe they asked that”

Kuai Liang

No pt2

Y'all I can only lie so much 

Kuai Liang and Bi-Han are some of the most serious people in the game 

You're not getting either of them on board with this dancing shit 

And you're posting it? Now it's especially no

The Earthrealm guys are goofy. They'll do goofy shit like this. These guys? Some of y'all 'bout to be real mad at me, but it must be said… 

Unlike Bi-Han he'll listen to a song and actually listen to it

And maybe he'll have a favorite. Maybe. 

Kuai Liang gives me “I only stick to one genre” vibes so he'll listen to it but the chances of him listening to it again are pretty slim 

This ain't what y'all want but I'm tryna imagine it and feel the fantasy and it's just not fantasy-ing

Maybe he'll slow dance with you but that's off camera and private 

He wouldn't lie and be like “oh sure. We can do it later”

He's just like “um… no but thanks for the invite”

You can ask another Lin Kuei though. He won't be upset 

Or you can do it by yourself and he'll gladly watch and hold the camera 

Tomas Vrbada

Y'all ain't gon’ believe what imma say next-

LISTEN I wanna say they'd all bust it down but like y'all, let's be real 😭

None of them are letting you record them dancing then post it on the internet. They are assassins that's constantly doing shit for Earthrealm 

He'd be nice when he says no at least 

“I'm no good at dancing. You can show me though”

Maybe he'd do a little step to the left, step to the right, spin around and break it down tonight but it's not on camera 

It'd have to be the most simple dance ever and you two would have to be alone 

He'd do a little dance if you kept bothering him but that video shit is not happening and he'd only do it once. Maybe twice. 

Idk why but I feel like Tomas got two left feet but he'll try his best for you so you let it go 

I remember in a post I said I feel like he's lowkey a Twice stan but have y'all seen their choreography? He's gonna break a damn knee 

He'll gladly do the fan chants and watch you though 

Overall the answer is no but he'll listen to any songs you recommend and he'll watch you. Might do a little boogie once or twice if you stay on his ass. 

I wanted to be delusional too ya’ll but I couldn’t 😔 This is so short but I ain’t know what to say. We’ve discussed my brain is ass rn