#I’m vaguely adjacent to

[athena-xox]

As a Sofia the first fan for a decade, who’s your favorite princess? Was the show part of your childhood or adulthood like mine?

Oooh okay

I know that lots of ppl don’t like her but I love Sofia, I feel like we had similar looks when I was younger so I just liked her

Also Amber, I mean you could really tell when there was like a different writer or director for each episode because her character development will get forgotten for a few episodes lol

Also Clio and Hildy bc they’re just so iconic

And don’t get me started on Vivian - SABRINA CARPENTER

Ik those are like ‘the main princesses’ but like they had screen time for a reason

It was definitely a show of my childhood, idk when it came out, it came out 2013, so definitely my childhood, I would have been five 😭😭

I used to spend Friday nights at my Nana’s house up until she moved out of town (I am in fact her favourite, she’s admitted it) and stf was my fav on Disney junior 

And then during Covid I BEGGED my parents to get Disney and I ended up binging stf and I realized the plot was so good, especially in the later seasons?!?!

And that was middle school for me and I had a whole Disney phase of being a Disney theorist (grandmum being sisters with queen Rita and Zandar being the lead ones) and my first time ever reading fanfiction was Sofia the first

I’m also doing my French project on Sofia the first…

Idk I was like in the Wattpad (oh god) fandom like 4 years ago

Idk I’m a girls girly, so like I’m in it for the princesses (and the other girls) and the female villains, I love the aesthetics of the show, the nostalgia, and the season 3/4 over arching plot

[goodluckbabeheffron]

tom hanks when he has another ginger twink to torture in a war show

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Seriously from a comms perspective I cannot stress enough how incredibly smart and strategic this launch/evolution/whatever you want to call it is. And to be clear I’m not saying it’s because they are PR. THAT IS NOT IT. Taylor and Travis are real people who happen to live in extraordinary circumstances that necessitate a plan in this regard because people can be so fucking weird about it.

The idea of acknowledging the elephant in the room instead of ignoring it and letting it take up space is what it all comes down to. Sure it was a frenzy when they first went public and the first bits of PDA hit the airwaves, but in the end what it does is normalize it. By this point, everyone knows they’re a couple and it’s not weird when they do hold hands or kiss or acknowledge each other in public. Because that’s what anyone would do with their significant other and trying to make it secret just makes it weird, for both the media and the people involved in the relationship.

So the way they’ve navigated this again has been masterful. There clearly are boundaries (it seems especially on Taylor’s end which Travis happily obliges) but that doesn’t mean they can’t just be themselves either. So, they’re not inviting people into their living room each week, but the gradual public meshing of their image served a purpose to normalize it. From Taylor’s first game to the occasional fluff pieces to trusted outlets to steer the narrative to acknowledging the public outings to dipping their toes in social media official, it’s making it so that now that they’ve moved into the next phase of their lives (whatever that may mean now but whatever it is it’s clearly serious and clearly considered permanent by both of them), they can share what they want without it being a stressor.

So if Taylor wants to be goofy, she can change her song lyrics or invite him up onto the stage and it’s newsworthy because she’s her but it’s not weird. Travis can be interviewed and be asked about his partner who is a public figure and speak highly of her without it turning into a maelstrom. Gradually their domestic status is going to be normalized so that their every move isn’t as big of a deal. (It’ll still be news because they are who they are, but it won’t seem like they’re sitting down for a root canal every time.)

I hate to call this a “rollout” because they’re people, not products, but in terms of a PR strategy, it’s excellent. And it’s not that every move they do is PR!!! It’s that every move they make is public, so they need to navigate that so that they can maintain their personal boundaries as they wish. It’s not that every interview is calculated, but it’s more that what they do or don’t choose to share at any moment in time is helping them figure out what they’re comfortable with, and it’s also lessening the market value, if you will, of any anecdotes. The more people become accustomed to them as a unit, the less each quote like this is bound to make huge headlines. (I mean other than fans like us because we want our pop star bestie to have everything she wants.)

It’s not just that their teams have set a great example, it’s that THEY are handling it with such skill and grace. I’m honestly blown away by it from a professional perspective and suspect that they figured out early on that getting a handle on it and guiding the narrative instead of pretending it didn’t exist might have been scary at first but has proven to make things so much easier and takes up way less space in all their brains.

[mjrtaurus]

Apparently larger crocodilians can go anywhere between months to- in very extreme cases- a couple of years without food or water by keeping themselves cool and still.

So of course, now I’m imagining Crocodile spending his months in Impel Down practically in hibernation, considering being made of sand would technically make you cold-blooded and able to do the above. The seastone probably only helped him stay conked out easier, tbh.

[cuteniaarts]

Behold, my latest and most enamouring new obsession:

Malina, Lady of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. As if Red Lotus child OCs weren’t niche enough

[gothsuguru]

kinda wanna do a geto x reader angst where reader falls out of love w suguru and the pain/heartache that befalls suguru based on the song wildflower by billie… but like it’s kinda like a deadbeat!reader x deeply in love yet kinda delusional!suguru

[sammygender]

‘they didn’t have the concept of mental illness back in the day so that’s why so many people claimed they could talk to god/had life altering visions/believed in witchcraft’ have you considered that maybe the lack of current magic in our world is due to the psychiatric system’s well-meaning inability to differentiate between life-threatening delusions & whimsy/possible spiritual insight

[peapod20001]

Me obsessing over a specific oc directly correlates to if they have songs/how often I listen to those songs

[augustsails]

hmm might change my little blog title thing to ‘Cowboy Connoisseur’. It feels accurate to me

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Ok karma is fucking real and it took its revenge for the amount of times I Did Not Leave Peoples Shoulders Alone in SP fics lmaooooo I slipped on the ice taking the trash out at work and landed on my shoulder (for the record I, like my darling Kyle Broflovski of the OrangeJuiceVerse, did in fact fuck up a joint in high school and refuse to do physical therapy for it) old war wound rizz

But I did see a stray cat while I was taking out the Offending Trash so helllllll yeah (stan marsh core)

Either I’m just pissed off and dramatic or I’m paying penance for the constant use of the “yes I injured the boys again, it’s easy and I’m stupid” tag on ao3 sry to the South Park boys for hurting you it will happen again

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 12

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Trying to get back into these two. Did we miss them?

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff

WC: 2600+

Part 1 | Masterlist

“So…” Jake pauses and purses his lips to suppress a mischievous smile. “When did you start liking me?”

You look down at your lap where his head has been resting for the last five minutes. “Did I tell you I like you?”

Jake meets your gaze and snorts. He reaches up to take your hand off the keyboard of your laptop and brings it down over his chest. “Indirectly,” he admits.

You roll your eyes, recalling when you had expressed to Bradley – in Jake’s presence – how ‘your guy’ makes you feel. You pull your hand out of his grasp and look back up at the screen in front of you. “I have to work, Jake.”

“You’re too hardworking,” Jake responds with a whine.

You shake your head with a grin. “Such a dreadful habit, I know. I’m working on it – wait. Damn, I see what you mean –”

Jake starts chuckling and his head tickles your bare thighs. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You press your lips together as your smile broadens. “When did you start liking me?” you ask.

Jake releases a heavy sigh and sits up. “Alright, enough chitchat. Get to work.”

You watch him rise to his feet and make his way into the kitchen, curious why he so abruptly decided to change the subject. “Got any plans this weekend?” you ask casually, wondering if he’ll finally ask you out on a date. The two of you have been sneaking around for a while, but your only outings together have been with Bradley, so you couldn’t even hold hands. Thus far, you’ve assumed that Jake is just waiting for the right moment to speak with Bradley before the two of you make your relationship official but, as time goes on, you become increasingly skeptical that Jake actually intends to come clean.

Jake shrugs. “Not really. Just hangin’ with your bro.”

You try your best not to frown. “Sounds fun.”

Jake walks back over to you and sets a bowl of strawberries on the table by your laptop. You glance up at him inquisitively and he responds with, “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

You give him a smile. “Neither have you.”

He nods. “Which is how I know you’re hungry.”

“Thanks,” you say. “As soon as I’m through with this part, I’ll move all this shit and we can have some lunch.” You gesture at the pile of literature currently cluttering your workspace.

Jake takes a seat adjacent to you at the table and lets out another sigh. “I don’t know,” he says.

You shift your gaze from your computer to look in his direction. “Don’t know what? If you want lunch?” You pick up a strawberry and pop it into your mouth.

Jake is observing you carefully and you stop chewing because the attention makes you uncomfortable. “I don’t know when…” he says, pausing as though he isn’t sure how to continue. “When, uh… I don’t know at what point” – he exhales sharply – “I have no clue when I f – when I started to see you as more than just Bradley’s sister. As more than a friend.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, your mouth still full of half-chewed strawberry.

“I think I just realized, at one point, that I’d rather spend time with you than with anyone else,” he admits.

You finish chewing awkwardly before responding with, “Huh.”

Jake stares at you expectantly, as though you should have something to add.

But you’re not really sure what to say. You’ve been crushing on Jake for an embarrassingly long time and he does not have clearance for that kind of classified intel, especially since his interest in you is far more recent. What does he want, anyway? A pat on the back for finally figuring it out?

“Your turn,” he says, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair with an air of confidence.

You purse your lips as though you’re in thought. “Not sure,” you say vaguely.

Jake narrows his eyes. “Not sure? Or don’t want to say?”

You meet his gaze tentatively. “I probably liked you before you liked me.”

Jake watches you with a slight grin. “In that case, you were very good at hiding it.”

…

You arrive at the pub already slightly tipsy after pre-drinking at your friend’s house. In fact, you’re drunk enough to not give two shits that Jake has, once again, decided to spend his Saturday night with Bradley. This time, he didn’t even invite you along.

Once inside, you head straight for the bar; no sense in wasting time waiting for a table. You grab a drink and take a look around the crowded establishment. That’s when you see him.

Jake fucking Seresin is sitting at a table near the back – not with your brother. You stare at him – and his female companion – in horror for a few moments, letting the scene sink in. Wondering if you’re in the wrong for being shocked. Are the two of you even exclusive? This has never actually been discussed. But one thing is certain: Jake lied, which makes you sick to your stomach.

You slide off your barstool and, cocktail in hand, you make your way to the little table in the back where your supposed boyfriend – or whatever he is – sits entertaining another woman. It’s not long before Jake notices your presence because you’re making quite a spectacle on your way over as you furiously skirt every person in your path.

Jake looks uncomfortable and that satisfies you greatly. “Hey,” he says when you arrive.

You gape at him. “Hey?” you exclaim in outrage.

“Uh,” Jake stalls for a moment. He turns to his date and says, “This is Bradley’s sister.”

The woman opposite Jake smiles at you but you’re too busy glaring at Jake to acknowledge her. “That’s all you want to say about me?”

Jake watches you pointedly. “What else do you want me to say about you?” He looks back at his date and lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Seresin?” you shriek, slamming your stemmed glass onto their table so aggressively that your sour apple martini splashes over the rim.

Jake jerks back to avoid getting wet and then looks up at you in alarm. “What’s the matter with you?”

You shake your head at him in disappointment and then turn abruptly to leave. You expect Jake to grab your hand, or follow you out, but he does neither. In fact, you make it all the way back to the bar before you realize that Jake is not even looking in your direction. You see him laughing together with his female friend, as though they both just witnessed something absurd and worthy of repeating in the future for a good chuckle.

“Hey, isn’t that your brother’s aviator buddy?” your friend says, nodding toward the back of the pub.

You roll your eyes and then turn toward the bar, realizing you left your drink at Jake’s table.

“He’s kind of hot,” you friend continues. “But he’s got fuckboy written all over him.”

You close your eyes and sigh. You have nobody to blame but yourself. You know Jake. What in the world made you think he would become a different person if he were with you?

…

The following day, you wake up past noon with a debilitating migraine. You hear Bradley and Jake’s voices drift up from the kitchen and groan. You’re not in the mood to face Jake after the events of the previous evening. You ended up going home shortly after confronting him and you have no idea where he ended up. Probably in bed, and probably not alone.

You get dressed unhurriedly, dizzy from the pain and, on your way downstairs, you grip the banister tightly just in case. The kitchen is excruciatingly bright, and you cringe upon entering, shielding your face from the open window like a vampire.

“Oh, hey sleepyhead!” your brother greets you.

You grunt in response and head straight for the coffee pot. “Is this fresh?” you ask.

“Nope!” Bradley replies cheerily.

You pour yourself a mug anyway and put it in the microwave, turning to face the two of them while your coffee warms.

Jake meets your gaze with a stoic expression.

“How was your night?” Bradley asks with a grin, clearly seeing that you’re hungover.

“Fine,” you say monotonously.

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “It’s the enthusiasm for me,” he says with a smirk, looking over at Jake.

Jake, however, ignores him and grabs his jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “You ’bout ready, Bradshaw? I ain’t got all day.”

“Alright, alright,” Bradley says. “Let me get my stuff.”

Bradley jogs over to the staircase and runs up to grab his duffel bag. Meanwhile, you are deliberately avoiding Jake’s gaze as you lean your back into the kitchen counter. Jake stuffs his hands into his pockets and is also not looking at you. When Bradley returns a few minutes later, disrupting the silence with a melodic whistling, the two of you have not moved an inch from where you’d been standing when he left. Even though the microwave has beeped at you twice.

“What’s with you two?” he asks, pausing in the doorway.

“Nothing,” Jake responds curtly. “Let’s go.”

Bradley glances between the two of you. “Okay,” he says slowly, his gaze lingering on you in particular. “See you later, sis,” he says.

You wave a distracted hand in his direction and head for the couch with your coffee, nearly bumping into Jake as you cross paths because neither of you is looking at the other.

“Sorry,” Jake mutters, stepping aside to let you pass. His hand goes up instinctively to guide you but he catches himself before letting it rest on your arm.

“It’s fine,” you say, wavering slightly on the spot. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and press a couple of fingers into your temple.

“You okay?” he asks, his eyebrows converging as he tries to catch your gaze.

“I said I’m fine.” You sigh, trying to walk around him.

“Seresin, you coming, or what?” Bradley calls from the foyer.

Jake hesitates as you finally pass him, and then yells back. “I’ll meet you there!”

Bradley waits a moment as though he’s still trying to figure out what’s going on. Then you hear the front door open and Bradley shout, “Don’t be late!” as he exits the house.

Jake trails after you into the living room and, when you lower yourself onto the couch, he crouches down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee. “Migraine?” he asks.

You nod slowly so as not to exacerbate the pain.

Jake’s hand gives your leg a soft squeeze. “Have you eaten?”

You cringe. “Please don’t talk to me about food right now,” you beg.

“Did you take anything?”

You shake your head. “I’m out.”

Jake gets to his feet. “I’ll go pick up some meds for you,” he says.

You glance up at him miserably. “You’re going to be late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he responds, already on his way out.

…

Jake returns not ten minutes later with your medication and a bag full of snacks. “I heard dark chocolate is good for migraines,” he says, holding out a block for you as you swallow your pills.

“I’m not hungry, Jake,” you say weakly, closing your eyes and lying back down on the couch.

Jake sighs, sitting down on the floor beside you and starting to unwrap the chocolate. “You need to eat something,” he says, breaking off a piece. “I also have gummy worms and popcorn.”

You open your eyes. “I love gummy worms,” you whisper.

Jake grins. “I know,” he whispers back.

You take the chocolate square from his hand and he busies himself with opening the bag of gummy worms while you let the chocolate melt in your mouth. A moment later, he hands you a gummy worm and you stick it between your teeth and bite. “Oh my god, it’s so good,” you moan. The motion of chewing helps alleviate some of the pain in your temple and you sigh blissfully, closing your eyes.

Jake leans his back into the wall adjacent the couch and pops a gummy worm into his mouth. For a while, the two of you sit in silence. Then, he says, “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you say.

Jake shakes his head and you can sense his irritation without even looking at him. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me.”

You turn to give him a flat look. “Would you trust you, Seresin?”

Jake squares his jaw. “I have never given you a reason not to trust me.”

“You lied to me! You said you were meeting Bradley!”

“I was! He was running late.”

You watch him sourly. “And you just happened to pick up a girl while you were waiting?”

Jake returns your bitter glare. “Is that actually what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” you say, sitting upright to look him in the eye. “You weren't exactly forthcoming with an explanation.”

Jake sets the gummy worms on the couch and gets to his feet. “The girl was there for Bradley. He was running late. End of story.”

“You couldn’t tell me that yesterday?”

“She’s seeing Bradley! And he doesn’t know about us. It’s not like I can say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m actually dating your boyfriend’s little sister and that’s why she’s acting like a nutcase. Brb.’”

You fold your arms, sulking. Did you consider the possibility that the woman Jake was sitting with wasn’t his date? Briefly. But you were already annoyed with Jake and that, combined with your less than sober state, was apparently a recipe for disaster. “I guess I don’t trust you,” you say with a shrug, even though this statement isn’t altogether true.

Jake places his hands on his hips, exhaling slowly. “Why?” he asks, sounding exasperated.

You stay silent and continue to brood.

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose and grimaces as though this conversation is wearing him out. Then, he lets out another sigh and crouches before you again, trying to catch your gaze as he places his hands in your lap, palms up. “Why?” he asks calmly, waiting for you to join hands with him.

You do. “Well, why would I?” you say quietly, hesitating before you continue. “What is this, even? What are we? Do you know? Because I don’t.”

Jake’s eyebrows knit together. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, why haven’t you told Bradley yet? Is it because you’re not sure you want to make this official? Is it because it’s just a fling so why bother?” You cringe inwardly, hating how insecure you sound.

Jake stares at you in wonder, as though this line of thinking has never even crossed his mind.

“Like, are we even exclusive?”

Jake’s eyes widen and he blinks at you in awe. “We fucking better be,” he retorts, his hold on your hands tightening slightly.

“Well, how would I know that?” you exclaim.

Jake brings his hands up to his face and rubs his eyes. “Jesus fuck, how would you not know that?”

You scoff at him. “Because you’ve never once been in an exclusive relationship! Not while I’ve known you, anyway. Do you even know how?”

Jake’s hands slide down his face and stay over his mouth as he gapes at you. When his hands finally drop back into your lap, you can see that he’s got a small smile on his face. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he says finally.

You lower your gaze, not exactly comforted considering he still has not addressed your main concern: Bradley.

Jake stands up and pulls you up off the couch. He puts his arms around you and you rest your head against one of his giant shoulders, allowing him to cradle you lovingly.

“Why haven’t you told Bradley?” you mutter into his shirt.

Jake pulls away from you and runs a hand through his hair uneasily. “I’m scared, Baby B,” he admits. “I’m scared he’s gonna make me choose.”

Read Part 13

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. As always, let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

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[sturnslcver]

Being bsf with nick but Chris likes reader and always tries to be near her

ੈ✩‧₊˚STUCK ADJACENT ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

 — chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— fluff, no warnings!

“can we try somewhere else we always go there?” you roll your eyes, slipping your socks on. “all the other boba shops around here taste like hand sanitizer” nick protested. “you’re going to all the wrong spots” you reply swiping nicks phone from his hands. “this place!” you point to his phone. “my sister used to take me here all the time. it’s actually good i swear” nick sighs, making his way toward the counter to retrieve his keys. he glances around before shouting for chris. “yeah?” “wheres my keys?” no response. chris’ footsteps thud as he hops downstairs. “what?” “i can’t find my keys” nick complains. chris points to the door. “i hung them up. where are you guys headed?” “boba shop” you vaguely retort. “can i go?” “uhh.. i don’t know. if nicks okay with it, im okay with it.” you smile. nick turns back toward chris. “no.” before chris can utter a rebuttal nick cuts him off. “you don’t even like boba” “sorry chris.” you shrug your shoulders. he sighs, slowly making his way back toward his room.

a couple hours pass. your stomachs full of strawberry and matcha boba. you and nick walking across the beach, exchanging laughs and comical remarks. it’s already pitch black out. you’re interrupted with multiple vibrations emitting from your phone, lighting up the screen. it’s chris. you briefly skim his messages reading, “when are you guys getting back?” and “are you on the way?” you nudge nick with your shoulder, revealing your texts to him. “let’s just go. it’s dark already anyways.” nick huffs.

nick closes the door behind you both as you slip off your uggs. you take his empty cup in your hands, disposing of both yours and his. “hey” chris appears from outside the hallway. “what’s up?” you sigh, bringing your phone up, showing chris his previously sent messages. “i don’t know. matts already laying down and i’m bored.” nick weaves through the both of you and plops himself down on the couch. “do you guys wanna watch a movie then?” you look at chris and nod before heading for the couch. you immediately take notice to how close chris seats himself to you. the sides of your legs and arms are practically touching. “chris” you mumble slightly annoyed before scooting a bit. throughout the movie, he just inches his way back in. you accept defeat and exhale, bringing your head to his shoulder and crossing your arms. his hair tickles your cheek as he begins to contort different shapes around your leg with his finger. you move your leg, gently brushing him off. he starts up again. this time, on your arm.

growing irritated with chris, you stand and make your way to nicks room. “i’m just gonna head up” you pause turning to nick. he nods before you’re back on your way. chris leans forward, shuffling up behind you. he trickles his fingers lightly beside your waist. you quickly shove them away. “chris!” you hiss at him, in a stern whisper. he throws his hands in the air, turning toward his bedroom, as you head to nicks.

your awoken by a backhand to your cheek. you turn to see nick, shuffling in his sleep. you lean up a little to check the time. it’s only one in the morning. you toss and turn in attempt to fall back asleep and fail miserably. you sigh before sitting upright and gently tiptoeing to the door, careful not to wake nick.

you leave two soft knocks at chris’ door, in hopes he’s still awake. “yeah?” he calls out. “hey” you smile creaking the door open. “what’s up?” chris replies. you shut the door and make your way to his bed, sitting on the edge. “i don’t know. i can’t sleep.” chris pats the bed, signaling you to scoot up next to him, with his arms open. you oblidge. “that’s okay” he speaks softly into your hair, pushing it out of your face. “you can sleep in here tonight, if you want?” you nod, relieved. “sorry for yelling at you earlier…but really? what’s up with you lately?” you chuckle. chris runs his knuckles softly up and down your arm and sighs. “i don’t know” “yeah you do.” you imply smiling. “i guess… i just like to be around you.” he admits. “and i really wanted to be with you today.” you run a hand through chris’ hair. “you could’ve just said so. i would’ve made time for you” “yeah?” “yeah.” you reassure. you lean into chris, attentive to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, while also tracing different shapes around his chest. he scratches your back and you immediately melt into his touch. he then brings his unoccupied hand around you, intertwining both of your fingers. you feel his warm and steady breaths in the crook of your neck as the both of you doze off into one another.

sorry i gave up halfway through. this took so long. i wrote like half and it didn’t save and i had to rewrite it. i hope it’s not too bad. keep the requests coming :) im responding to all of them rn!!

[strangepathshikingclub]

wow my memories are just GONE huh

memory machine broke

not sure what kinda dissociation fuckery is occurring but I think I’m currently the version of me that is more suited for exams.

maybe the missing memories of daily life from the last month or so will come back when I’m not currently trying to save as much space in my brain as possible for memorizing stuff about the renaissance. maybe default settings will be restored once exams are over maybe not we will see

[friendlyengie]

I am so normal

Update! Ive been updating their designs! See them (most of them) here!

Refs for the fem fortress designs I threw around in this post!! Because I am a big fan of woman and also a little bit insane abt this little idea

tldr for anyone who doesn’t want to check out the og post: I wanted to make a counterpart team to the og mercs that was all girls but also like. Vaguely genderbend-adjacent? Genderbending but cooler. Some of these characters resemble genderbends more than others but they’re all their own characters that exist somewhere within the universe (a couple are even canon characters because I think Zhanna Deserves a Gun!) why are they also a RED team? I don’t know! And I’m too tired to try and bullshit some canon-sounding excuse for it. The administrator wanted to fuck with the og mercs or smth for fun

I probably have more to say about them but I’ll save anyone reading this from what would probably end up being multiple paragraphs of personality and relationship descriptions ! Enjoy a bunch of women with traced weapons (bc you’re insane if you think I was gonna draw them freehanded)

[zhongrin]

“honey, can you… put it in my mouth?”

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, kaveh, pantalone, ayato

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, gn!reader, very suggestive but nothing explicit believe it or not, oral fixation (reader), implied spanking (pantalone)

◇ a/n ◇ ough i finally have the energy to edit this..... why do i feel so tired from just editing send help i need kithes ;w;

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli looks up at you in confusion, before looking at what he is holding. surely you didn’t mean you want to have these bitter coffee grounds in your mouth? he smiles kindly at you and resumes tamping the coffee grounds, the veins on the back of his palms prominent as ever ever against his blackened skin, before locking the portafilter onto the machine and placing two espresso glasses under it.

“dear, as much as you need your coffee, i think we need to process this specific ingredient first before you can fully enjoy the beverage-”

he blinks slowly at you, the hum of the espresso machine the only noise for a moment following your clarification… until the corners of his lips turn upwards in a little smirk, and he chuckles onto his bare fist, the geo lines shining brightly with mirth before reaching out to trace your lips.

“sometimes i wonder if i've spoiled you too much… very well, perhaps after your coffee, you can have a… not-so-little treat. or should i say, treats.”

al haitham’s answer is, as per usual, logical and straightforward.

“absolutely not. this is one of my most prized limited collection books. that would be unhygienic, both for you and the book itself.”

his verdant green eyes lined with orange-hued lines switch focus onto your expression, narrowing upon seeing no remorse in your face. he’s about ready to scold you more when the next words leave your lips, and for a moment he’s distracted by how delectable they look as they spill sinful words and pronounce your chosen nickname for him.

“… you could have clarified that sooner,” he says, still in that monotonous tone, though you can see how his gaze burns hotter now and the visible excitement starting to make itself known. one of his gloved hands beckons you closer and grabs onto your wrist to pull you onto his lap.

“well, what are you waiting for, then?” his book snaps shut and he smirks at you in anticipation, “go on. put it all in your mouth. well… as much as you can, that is.”

kaveh beams and skilfully opens a lychee for you, ignoring the way the juices drip all over his slender fingers, and offers the sweet fruit to you immediately, urging you to taste the deliciousness. when you merely stare at him in amusement, your boyfriend tilts his head, his smile unfaltering as he pushes the fruit nearer to your lips.

“they’re really sweet! if you like it, i’ll feed you more!”

the architect’s grin widens when you take the fruit between your lips, although he blushes at the way your tongue brushes onto the calloused skin of his fingers. he tries to tell himself that it was just a coincidence, but five more lychees later, he’s convinced that you had to have done this on purpose. and when you tell him you’re full and you want something else in between those sweet lips of yours… well, he’s already a people pleaser by nature anyway - and there’s no one he wants to please most other than you.

pantalone’s gloved fingers fix his glasses before motioning for you to follow him a little down the hallway toward the adjacent room. moments after the door slams close behind you, he signals you to kneel - and the condescending chuckle when you obey like a trained dog in front of him makes your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

he folds his arms in front of his chest, smiling down at you, “i’m going to need you to explain further what you meant by that vague statement, dear.”

the more you stumble over your words, the wider your master’s smirk grows. golden eyes peer down at you in half amusement and half anticipation. he shakes his head when you finish, his next words cooing and belittling as if he’s scolding a misbehaving child, “oh my, darling, how can those lovely lips spew such filthy words?”

the seemingly condescending words are followed by a hum, though you sense no underlying malice or sarcasm in his tone. no, this was him playing with you - if anything, he seems to be amused at your words. you love being bratty and he loves disciplining you, after all. this is just right up his alley.

“i think you need more disciplining before i can grant your wish. now turn around and get on all fours. remember to start counting.”

ayato’s eyes seemed to curve in delight as soon as the words leave your pretty lips. an amused and condescending smile blooms on his lips, like a lotus greeting the morning air that is the breath of your ambiguous request. imaginary scenes fill his head, replacing the neat schedule he’s mentally set for the day today, each images filthier than the previous ones.

your beloved toys with you for a while, however. stalls with a series of teasings and seemingly innocent touches on your chin and cheeks and lips - so close yet so far from where you want him most. he chuckles when you whine and plead,

“perhaps we should find a way to constantly satisfy that greedy mouth of yours. how does keeping me company while i work sound? i’ll make sure to get the most comfortable pillows for you to sit on, under my desk.”

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[evanbi-ckley]

He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.

Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?

But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.

Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?

He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.

~***~

What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?

~***~

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.

If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.

Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-

~***~

“Fucking bees.”

~***~

He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 

He feels safe. And alive. 

He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.

It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.

He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.

He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 

When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.

The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?

“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.

“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.

Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.

Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 

“Thanks,” he says.

The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”

He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.

“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”

The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.

“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”

Ah, so -

“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”

“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.

“So…what?” the man prods.

“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”

“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”

Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”

Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”

The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”

It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.

“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”

Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”

“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.

There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 

Together.

part 1

part 2

part 3

also now on ao3!