#MAN SAID WORK PERMITS???? 😭😭😭😭😭

[evansbby]

To all the Israelis in the asks last night that I did not publish, telling me I don’t know what I’m talking about. One of them even said “of course we cut of their electricity and water, they started a war on us!1!” LIKE THEY GENUINELY BELIEVE Palestinians started it. That’s what they wholeheartedly believe bc of their country’s propoganda… open your eyes.

[chiikasevennn]

Heyyy I saw you were writing for sung jinwoo and I was wondering if you'd be up to writing one where reader is his girlfriend and they are together somewhere and he is all soft and mushy with her without realizing there are other hunters around bc he is just so focused on her only

⁠✷—C is for Clingy

THIS IS BADLY WRITTENNNNNNNN, eng is not my first language. I hope nobody criticizes me like I write for a living 😭 also, not proofread. Kind of suggestive. I have no idea what I'm doing or writing. I hope I got this correctly!

Slow movements were made as another lazy Sunday morning was being spent in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with your boyfriend hugging your waist from behind.

You felt like drifting on the edge of consciousness, Jinwoo could say the same. Once the pancakes were finished and ready to be savored, you made every effort to plate them with him securely encircling your waist.

Jinwoo grumbled, half-asleep, eyelids heavy as he couldn't resist the mesmerizing aroma emitting from you. Should you permit, he would hold onto you forever.

For some odd reason, his sense of smell became more acute especially in the morning when you were around, or maybe it was simply your sweet, sugary scent that was so appealing and irresistible. He just had to approach you.

So, as the clingy man he openly acknowledged himself to be whenever he was with you, he just trailed closely along behind you, his head buried in your hair and breathing in its faint sweetish scent.

"—inwoo, Jinwoo," you began to tap his head; slowly, he woke up from daydreaming.

He hummed in response, holding you tighter which made you grumble.

"Pancakes are ready. Do you want syrup?"

He nodded his head against your hair. You did your best to remove his hold around you, to which you succeeded barely.

"Woo, we're going to eat." The dark haired man's face etched with lines of discontent at how he had to let go of you.

The sight of pancakes you made on the table brought a little smile to his face though, a tower of golden goodness waiting to be devoured. Each pancake was a work of art, perfectly round and fluffy, begging to be drenched in syrup.

He seized the chair adjacent to your seat and brought it close to you with such intimacy, eager to be near you as he prepared to enjoy his first meal of the day.

The two of you took a bite, it was a silent breakfast.

"Say, Jagiya," he said. "KHA's hosting a party in three days, may I ask you to come with me?"

You stopped eating after swallowing the last piece of pancake in your mouth. "Like, a hunter gathering? Am I needed?"

"For me, yes." He responded like a form of desperation. "I also want to show my girlfriend to the world. Will that be okay?"

Trying to negotiate with him was pointless. How could you possibly refuse when he asked so kindly? You were somewhat bashful around strangers, often preferring to take shelter behind someone taller. Jinwoo conveniently became that reliable barrier after his sudden growth spurt.

"Sure, does it have a theme or something? I don't want to look off."

"You'd look gorgeous in anything."

"I'm serious!"

Jinwoo chuckled. "A dress, maybe? I'll wear a suit. Should we go look for fits later? It's a day off, after all."

I hummed along with him, eating the rest of the pancake happily.

The dark haired man looked at the necklace around your neck. You were still donning that budget-friendly heart necklace, huh? Back then, it was the only thing he could offer as he didn't have much. It had been his initial present to you upon making things official, and ever since then, you hadn't removed it.

Jinwoo smiled. The littlest things do make him happy randomly. Maybe it was the [Name] effect.

By four o'clock, you and him stepped out to shop together. Although your intention was to sleep through the day, how could you possibly debate with your boyfriend who was eager to be with you at a luxurious event?

✯

"Is this really okay?"

As she descended the staircase, the V-line neckline of her dress accentuated the slender curve of her neck. It was commanding Jinwoo's attention and he couldn't look away although he'd already seen you in that dress.

He was determined to hold onto you once more, and he did, though his breath hesitated as he realized how easily he could grab your waist.

Jinwoo buried his face into your styled hair, reddening like a teenager. Oh, Jinwoo, your charming Jinwoo who kept showing this cute side of him just and only for you.

"Woo, this is the seventh time you've grabbed my waist. I might be giving you too much privilege."

"Mm," he was silent, before suggesting something. "You're so grabbable, so small… You know, we still have thirty minutes lef—"

You ended up smacking the back of his head with a wide smile, a tick mark appearing. "Nope, the last time we did that, I couldn't walk properly!"

You bestowed a kiss upon his hair, being cautious not to disrupt the expertly groomed locks that adorned his handsome face. Of course, this man was not only your significant other, but also your partner in each craziness you start, and you, too, were keen to flaunt him proudly like the committed partner you were.

✯

The formal party was a gathering of elite individuals, a sea of tailored suits and elegant dresses filling the large room. Every detail of the formal party was meticulously planned, from the ornate decorations to the impeccable service as it would have distinguished guests.

For those in attendance, the formal party was more than just a social event—it was an opportunity to network, to solidify alliances, and to climb the ladder of success.

The air was thick with anticipation as guests awaited the arrival of the most awaited guest, a figure of utmost importance in the world of hunters.

When you and Jinwoo arrived, it was obvious that every set of eyes was fixed on the both of you, holding you in their gaze, clearly observing your every move.

They didn't know an inkling of fact about you, but they knew you were his secret other, thanks to the rumors and candid photos fans took of the two of you, dubbing you as Hunter Sung Jinwoo and his hidden girlfriend.

Indeed, you were gorgeous, but some of their corrupted minds thrived for more than that. They wanted connection, power, influence—

I got nervous for no reason… You sighed.

You had envisioned the gathering to be calm before the storm, but surprisingly, it was actually like a walk in the park! Initially, you had anticipated being swarmed or judged by random people nearby, but they were actually quite polite.

The discussions you engaged in with people were polite, formal, and brief, to say the least. You also noticed how tense some of them appeared moments after approaching you… Or maybe you were kidding and it was just your imagination? You had initially thought of hiding behind Jinwoo and using him as a shield, but surprisingly, they were composed and respectful.

You were unaware of the fear gripping their souls, as each time you greeted them with a gentle, tiny smile, a certain dark-haired hunter would send them glaring looks from a distance behind you; Jinwoo knew their intentions, and they weren't dumb to not realize that he was pointing right exactly at them.

"Jagiya," He spoke softly by your ear before planting a kiss on the tip of your ear. Wait. "Did you use another perfume when we arrived?"

The sudden weight of pressure hugged your hands, leaving you undeniably certain that he gripped it tightly as if awaiting something eagerly.

"No…? Wait, do I smell—"

He knew what you were going to assume. "No, not bad. Just different. Like candy or something similar."

You kissed his lips. "Good." Jinwoo couldn't resist smiling, a sight that, unbeknownst to both of you, resulted in many spectators widening their eyes at the sight of the two of you.

His concentration was solely on you, those gray eyes looking down at you with so much adoration. He never objected to public displays of affection, perhaps the two of you simply preferred to keep your intimacy private, until now—at least, for Jinwoo.

It made him feel giddy.

"Kiss me again?"

"What? We're in public…"

"So? No harm in doing it again. You already kissed me. Plus, we literally had a quickie weeks ago at a restau—"

"Shut!" You whisper-yelled, a flush of embarrassment spreading across your face up to your ears. Jinwoo chuckled. "That is not necessary!"

….? Did he just… Laugh?

That was the thought of the woman afar, Hunter Cha Hae-In. Plagued by an unsettling and cumbersome sensation, she observed something she didn't think she'd see.

So those pictures of them taken at a beach were true? The blonde hunter tried to swallow down her drink.

The hunters scattered throughout the room, especially those who had witnessed Jinwoo's prowess in battle, look mostly in disbelief as they witnessed something that surpassed their wildest dreams. They had never considered that such a brutal man on the battlefield could be so tender... And it seemed like he had no problem showing it, too!

.

"Wait, what do you mean you kind of drove them away?" You whispered closely to your boyfriend's face, brows furrowing. "So that guy Mr. Kim was actually gonna piss his pants because you continuously looked at him like a mosquito???"

"Your hair smells great." He deliberately changed the subject with a kiss. "Let's go to dinner after this."

"Hey!" You whisper-yelled.

ples comment something D:

[signedmio]

Taking advantage of the fact that my man Saint Peter is a requestable character now so—

If it’s not too much to ask, could I get some (wholesome) first time headcanons with Saint Peter?

Like first time we held hands, first kiss, first I love you, first moment he realized he’s crushing on reader, ect stuff like that! Ik it’s a lot, I’m so sorry 😭😭 even just doing two is fine I swear I’m just craving some Peter content 💕

𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞(𝐬) 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n: OMG CHITO YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME 😭😭 while reading this i thought it was gonna be a smut request and i don’t write smut so i got so scared. but yeah, ofc!! enjoy !!

warnings: use of yn

proofread: nope LOL

tags: saint peter, hazbin hotel, fanfic, x reader

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

“hi, welcome to heaven! can i get your name please?” a grinning blonde asked you, slicking back his hair, a book in his hands.

“oh, yn.” you smiled back at him, so calmly, which contrasted to how his stomach was feeling right now. you seemed so cool.

“oh! uh, yeah, ok!” peter replied, whistling as he scrolled through the pages of his list, “ah! here ya are, r-right this way.” peter smiled, leading you to the gates, before sighing right as you were out of sight. you were really pretty.

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

over the course of your time in heaven, you and the saint had grown significantly closer, which eventually resulted in a first date after a few months.

you had suggested an ice skating date, which was fitting, due to heaven growing a more wintery vibe due to christmas being mere weeks away. but saint peter couldn’t help but (silently) disagree, he had no idea how to ice skate, and even worse, he told you he was amazing at it!

the day came sooner than peter would’ve liked it too, you both met up with eachother at the rink, by the time he got on the ice, you would already there.

peter went to approach you, before fumbling across the ice as he attempted to skate before bashing his face into the glass wall, looking at you with an embarrassed grin.

“here..” you say, taking his hand, “i’ll teach you!”

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬

the night of your first date came to an end sooner than peter would’ve liked it too, despite the rough start on his side, he walked you home, dropping you off at your door, the sky a bright pink-yellow from the sun setting just below them, the night sky would be arising any time now for earth.

“thanks pete, tonight was really fun.” you smiled, standing just infront of your door, “it was no biggie, hehe. t-totally fun!” peter said, going to walk off, before you reached for his wrist, pulling him closer to you.

your lips were inches apart, you could feel his hot breath fan your face, you grabbed him by the neck and pulled him into a kiss. peter’s eyes snapped shut tightly, as he rested his hands on your shoulders, his lips were so soft, so heavenly.

you both pulled apart in sync moments after, peter chuckled breathily, pressing his forehead against yours, “does this mean i could maybe steal you for another date next weekend?”

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 22 -- Harold/Bob

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 22 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Exhibitionism with Harold/Bob x F!Reader

I...

This... This needed to be like 5k words longer but I didn't have time for that so here's a snippet of a much larger idea than was meant for kinktober

Anyway though, Harold is a lovely, lovely man who made me feel so many sad things when I played FO3 as a kid. Ugh, he's SUCH a great character. Aaaaand... kinda challenging to write for, idea-wise 😅 ngl, but hopefully y'all love this one!

Maybe when I have spare time one day (😂😭) I'll return and add some more to this!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Exhibitionism (kinda sorta), kissing, confessions, fantasies, forbidden love, trees, wood, um... dry humping, self actualization. TW for suicidal thoughts!

Words: 3.8k

*note: Lone and Branchtender Cypress are the same person*

--

The newest branchtender had never been shy. 

Once you became privy to the freedoms that such a place as this could offer you, when you saw the green, when you met the one… Harold, his brilliance, his sacrifice, when you saw the legacy he would leave in his wake… How could you ever have left? 

You weren't coy about your feelings of appreciation for the Oasis deity, nor your want to help, and you certainly didn't shy away from ruffling some feathers, as it were.

It was among the many numerous things that he truly appreciated about you in return.

Harold’s eyes couldn’t shift too far from their allotted position, nestled frustratingly in Bob’s trunk as they were, but you always managed to make him wish– more zealously than usual– that he could move of his own accord. That he could… maybe, just sort of… touch you? 

Yes, he’d like that very much. 

It’d been years since Harold felt another person, since someone reached out to touch him in earnest. Even Bob hadn’t felt the prod of a hand recently, since the rules had changed, since the people had caught wind of Harold's more recent… thoughts. 

Maybe I wouldn’t want to be gone if there were more who treated me like you do.

Like a person. 

He remembered distinctly the first time the two of you met, when you’d told him why you wanted to become a branchtender, when you had to convince him to let you into Oasis permanently. It hadn’t taken much, no, because when you reached out and shook his branch like it was his hand, when you looked him in the eye and smiled your broad smile, it brought back memories of genuine personhood that he hadn't felt since... what, a hundred years or so ago? Even when your touch lingered for a moment, even when Tree Father Birch had told you not to, when Harold knew how the others feared to touch him, that they might hinder his spread, or expand it– depending on who you asked-- even through all of that uncertainty, you'd only pulled away when Harold had said it was alright.

You held no such notions as the others, no such fear, apparently. Especially not now. 

Harold knew you weren’t popular among the Treeminders, the Branchtenders, even the Bloomseer wished not to permit you in Harold’s grove. But he favored you, that much was clear to everyone in Oasis. 

“I can speak to the others…” You told him, sitting on the root structure that was once his arm, gazing upon his face without flinching. 

You never flinched away from his visage, nor did you altogether refuse to look upon his face, as a few of the Oasis-goers had decided was respectful. 

To him it was… How could it not be dehumanizing?

“Maybe get them to lighten up. To see you like I do, Harold. Then you wouldn’t be alone in here so often, maybe they could even… I don’t know, touch you? L-like I did that first time, you know?” 

Harold hummed, his eyes downcast. 

“I have you.” He said, quietly. Undecided if he wanted to say it aloud at all, but sometimes Bob shoved the thoughts right out so they wouldn't take up space. 

At least, he thought it was Bob doing that. 

“Yes.” You said, and your hand rubbed over a knot in his bark– Bob’s bark. “But am I enough? I can’t… Harold, I can’t be all that’s making you want to, well, you know… Stay here.” 

“But you are. Now.” 

He saw your lip give a small tremble, before you hid it with a grin. Your eyes though… they still held that sadness. 

“That’s sweet, but it's not healthy, Harold. There needs to be more.” 

He made a pouty sound at that. 

Says who?

It was nice to have even one thing to stick around here for. Couldn’t you see that? That you already did the impossible?

“I want to know something.” Your soft voice prompted him, just as one small hand reached to brush over the bark that was once his cheek. You had to strain your arm to do it, had to sit all the way up, but oh, how he wished with everything he had that he could lean into it, feel beyond what Bob allowed him to of your soft hand. 

“Hm?” 

“Tree Father and Tree Mother, they both have these ideas of what we should do with you, how we should... use you and Bob’s resources to either change the wasteland or to keep you and us safe and secret.”

He tried nodding in understanding, but all he could manipulate were his eyes. 

It didn't have the same effect, he feared.

“Well…" You continued, "They keep talking about what to do with you, like you’re… a resource and not a person.” 

“I know.” 

“Well, frankly, that’s shitty.” 

He rumbled out a laugh, feeling Bob’s topmost branches tremble slightly with the action. 

“Harold.” You said his name so sweetly, softly, like friends speak to each other, like… Like he imagined he’d want to speak to the people he loved. If he’d ever had those. 

It was hard to remember. 

“Hon, what do you want?” Your hand was still firmly on his cheek. He could feel heat permeating the layer of bark there. “I know you sort of told me the day we met, but… It seems like that’s– maybe, that’s changed?” 

“Yes.” He said, with a decisiveness he didn’t intend, but was there all the same. “It has changed. Now… The others, they can do what they please with me and Bob.”

“But–” You tried, pulling your hand away like he’d prodded you with a thorn. 

“I want you.” He finished, that decisiveness never wavering, though… despite the certainty, it did surprise him.

Never… confessed anything like this before. Not to anyone. 

That… well, that I can remember.  

Your expression stayed soft, safe, non judgmental, non accusatory, as your eyes darted back and forth, ensuring there was truth in both of his before speaking your response. 

“Harold… You’re not just saying this… Well, because I’m the only one who speaks to you like this, right? I don’t want this– these feelings you’re telling me you have, to just come from my being nice to you. That’s not fair either.” 

You held eye contact with him all the while, genuine sympathy and curiosity shining there. 

How could you think his feelings were just… by default? 

To him, anyway, it was obvious. 

Other Treeminders, branchtenders, had loved him before, been kind to him, revered him, even. But always because of Bob. What Bob allowed him to become, and maybe… maybe that’s what had drawn you to him at first as well, but now… It was Harold you stayed for, wasn’t it?

With the way you spoke his name, looked into his eyes, asked him about his wants, his needs… how could it not be him?

“Weeks.” He said, and you cocked your head slightly. 

He couldn’t help his hard-to-read grin. 

“We’ve been talking all that time. You’re interesting, kind, see me as human, yes. But more.” 

“More?” You urged him, and Harold couldn’t dream of denying you. 

“See me as a human you can connect to. We talk about many things, and all of them are interesting, so many things we have in common. Even with our… differences.” 

A small smile glowed in your eyes , and softened your expression further. Harold’s gaze never wavered, though you knew the words left him with effort, both physical and emotional.

“I want you so I may talk with you, to have your company.” 

“You will.” You answered so hastily, even tilting forward from where you sat in the curve of what used to be his right arm, almost toppling out of it. 

He tried to catch you, but Bob held firm to his limbs. As he always did. 

With you, he could almost forget. 

“You will, Harold.” You saved yourself from falling, bracing your arm against the main section of his trunk. “I’m not going anywhere, I… I love talking to you, too.” 

Maybe to save face from falling off of him, or maybe because you just wanted to, you wrapped your hands around his trunk– Bob’s– and hugged him, just beneath his face. 

Bark creaked and branches rustled as Harold made an effort to reach back, to drop his chin to rest on your shoulder, to bring one arm around your body, to lean into your touch, but Bob halted him. 

Harold felt he could scream at the opposition, but… he couldn’t startle you with his frustrations. Instead, he sat in silence, savoring what he could of your touch, relishing in the mere thought that you were doing this at all. Sharing your warmth with him, making the effort to show how you cared, disobeying everything his other keepers in Oasis would have told you just to show him you wanted to feel him against you. 

“Wish that I could return this favor.” He said, instead of crying out his frustrations with Bob to you. Like you hadn’t heard that complaint a thousand times already. 

“Hmm?” You asked without removing yourself. 

“Wish, Lone, that I could… touch you.” 

“Bob won’t let you, huh?” Now you pulled back, just enough so he could look upon your face. 

“Afraid not. He… I’m constrained by him. No matter how I try.” 

“Well… um, can I…?”

Harold blinked as you trailed off suggestively. If it were possible, his mouth would be running dry right about then. 

“Can I talk to Bob?” You finished, and a somber sort of relief washed over him. 

Harold couldn’t answer you at first. His brows furrowed, and in his mind, he tried to reach out, to find anything but the pulsing wordless communications that Bob always released, directed to him, and to the other trees and saplings that acted as his spawn all throughout Oasis. 

Their conversations were mildly distracting, especially when Harold was alone and silent in the grove, but now, with you here, the bound man had to strain to make out their strange, slow voices. 

“Not in a way that will get through to him.” Harold finally answered you, after Bob ignored his mental prodding for the umpteenth time since they were joined. 

“Alright, well… Can I then…” You ended with a distinct clear of your throat. Your body against Bob’s bark; even down to Harold’s core, he could feel the way your heart picked up, the way you flushed with heat against him. 

“Yes?”

“I could touch you, if you want? You know… enough for both of us.” 

If his eyes were wide before, now they were akin to twin moons as his mouth hung agape and he appeared to short-circuit. 

“H-Harold?” 

“Lone… You… want this, too?” 

When you nodded, he could swear that his heart damn-near stopped. 

How ironic that would have been. 

With a distinct swallow, you nodded to him. Your eyes couldn’t meet his then, either. To see you embarrassed… about anything, it was more than strange. 

Harold thought you were the freest of them all, the most outward with your thoughts, your true self, and now… to know the one viable secret he knew you were keeping was potential feelings for him? 

“I was afraid to tell you.” You said quietly, “Afraid what you might think, or say, and the others, well…” You trailed off with a lovely chuckle, and Harold’s gruff timbre of a laugh followed. 

“The others don’t matter. They only care for Bob, what he can do for them. For all the wasteland. Harold is just… an afterthought.”

“Well, you’re not to me.” 

You released your hold on him as you spoke, turning to grasp his rooted arm with your soft hands, before hauling yourself back up onto that perch. Harold, not for the first, nor the last, time this evening, wished he could break one of his hands away from Bob’s grasp to reach out to you, to help balance you, as you wavered in your place on him. 

You stood on his limb now, level with his strange face, and pondered it. 

He felt you could see right through him. Not just through Bob and into Harold’s human shell, but into him. See his soul, even. 

He didn’t know what exactly you were looking for, but you stood for a long moment, just… running your eyes over him, like he was something you could read. Just… observing. 

Truth seeking. Something in his mind offered, and if he could’ve, Harold would’ve nodded his agreement to himself. 

“I want to kiss you.” You said decidedly, and Harold tried to recoil. Still, even with your words, your hands on him, your embrace… The thought was something so inconceivable for him, so… splendorous, that it felt like a dream. 

Perhaps you did kill me, and this is just the eternal dream. 

If that’s the case, waking would be more torture than getting bound to Bob all over again. 

“Alright.” Was all he could manage, in his shock, and the grin you answered with set his chest ablaze with affection. 

You leaned forward, bracing a hand on either side of his face, your fingers catching at the knobby protrusions– also courtesy of Bob– that made up some semblance of cheekbones. His eyes followed your lips as they pursed in preparation, and he found himself wishing– more so than for anything else he’d ever imagined– that he could move, that Bob would allow him this one small favor for dragging him all across the wasteland, for letting him tie Harold to this place for eternity, just once could he move of his accord again? 

Just for this.

 Your lips pressed to his mouth, to the grotesque, always-open marionette of what used to be his proper face, his proper lips, and yet… 

There was no crude pull-away, no startled mumble against him, not even the slightest flinch as you pressed forward and sighed. 

That sound rattled through him, like the sap seeping through his veins, it poured life into him. 

“Lone…” Harold whispered to you so softly, his voice reminded him of before. 

Before Bob, before he was a ghoul, even. A before that was famously long ago.

You still didn’t relent, moving that delectable mouth over his, tasting him, drawing out this euphoric feeling that had him believing he still was human. He wished he could taste you, know what it was like to be so close, to feel your breaths wash over his tongue, to clack his teeth against yours until you both pulled back in a fit of laughter, where he wished he could then wrap both arms around you. 

Harold wanted to roll to the grassy earth with you in his embrace, out of breath from your shared mirth as you both drew back in for another taste. He would run his mouth over the seam of your own, and you would boldly answer his call. With you still nestled in his grasp, he would move his way down your body, exploring, feeling. No patch of skin, no freckle, no scar would escape his scrutiny. 

He had so much time. This? It could last an eternity and not feel like even a blink to him after all that Bob put him through. He would use every second of it to see you, to smooth his hands over you, feel your heartbeat below your skin, feel the sweat form there, see the passion growing in your eyes. 

He’d take you, there, in the grass. 

Harold didn’t take much of anything, not ever in his life. He’s been somewhat of a pushover for most of it– Bob clearly had exploited that fact. 

But he would take you. 

You lent him your boldness, your unapologetic passion, your zest for all that life had to offer; your acceptance of him… he could borrow that, too, for tonight. 

He would pull you into his lap on that sweet, quiet patch of grass, hear you moan out his name as you felt his hardness beneath you. Those stringy clothes you wore, that already failed to conceal all that much, he’d pull them apart and bare you to him until there was nothing left for him to uncover. 

Your taste there, too, between your legs… He’d spend half an eternity just there, pulling your honey past his wanton lips until his chin dripped and he was drunk on nothing but you. And if he didn’t die there, between your divine thighs, then he would use every last living breath he had to worship the rest of you. 

Then he could be happy in this life of his, no matter how long he was stuck here for. 

It was with that thought that Harold returned to himself. 

Your lips dragged over him, and he could so nearly taste your breath, he could feel the warmth of your hands–close as they were to his eyes. 

“H-Harold.” You pulled back, and his eyes blinked open to admire you. 

You were out of breath, your eyes glossy and… blown wider than he’d ever seen them. 

“You taste… like nothing I’ve ever–”

“What is this heresy?” 

You froze where you leaned against Harold, as Tree Father Birch’s voice rang clear through the grove.

“I knew this was wrong, I knew you were plotting something, Branchtender Cypress, and this…” A disgusted throaty sound finished the sentence for him, and Harold felt something stir in him. Deep in his roots, not even Bob’s, but Harold’s roots… they boiled. 

“Away from Him." The Tree Father ordered, "Now, Cypress. Away from the grove and seek out Bloom–”

“No.” Harold’s voice growled, and he felt the ground shake from the lowness of it. 

Your hands gripped at him tighter. 

“W-what– but, but your highest–”

“He wants you to go. Father.” You spat the words out, relishing in the way it made Birch's face glow red to hear you command him on his god’s behalf. 

“B-but… No. That cannot be. I am the Tree Father, I speak for what is best for–”

“Lone is what’s best for Harold." He grumbled out, like the sound of groaning wood about to be severed. "What’s best for Harold is also best for Bob.” 

Tree Father Birch shook his head, his brows creased, despondent, like he was losing a loved one before his very eyes. 

“No, no, no. This cannot be.” He started forward, moving with intent towards the pair. 

Harold’s eyes darted to your face, the way your expression was curled in a defensive snarl. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but Harold felt his own features held that same malice right about now. 

“She has manipulated you, your greatness. Cypress wishes to have control for herself, she came to Oasis just for that! On a whim, she decided to join us, only after seeing you. Is this a coincidence? Does she want you to sustain your people, like I do, or will she take what she can before throwing us all into the fire?” 

A growl was forming low in Harold’s trunk. The topmost branches began to shake, just as the ground groaned in protest to the tree’s movement– small as it might be on the outside, it shook the very foundations of the grove.

“It’s what the Bloomseer saw. When she looked at your fate, the day that Cypress arrived here, she saw flames and anguish and death where Oasis once stood.”

"You’re an imbecile.” You piped up, with the full intent to continue with an explanation, but it was too late. He was close enough to you now that, when your words pushed the Tree Father over the edge, he could reach you. 

Birch lunged forward, his gnarled hand met your ankle, and he pulled hard against it, until you toppled, falling in between Harold’s trunk and his rooted arm. Through his and Bob’s connection, Harold felt the way bits of your skin tore against his bark, he heard your pained sounds, and his eyes glowed red and angry as hot coals. 

“Enough!” He bellowed until the grove’s voices went silent, the grassy ground ceased its whispers, the trees paused their conversations, Bob stood at attention, and Birch…

Harold didn’t know how it happened, couldn’t have said quite when, but his hand… His hand. Harold’s left hand was wrapped around the Tree Father’s throat. 

The man’s eyes were nearly bulging from his head from the force, and Harold released him just as suddenly. 

He paid no more mind to the Tree Father as he slid to the floor. Harold could only do as he had dreamt of, do as he’d wished, do what he thought would be impossible all night and every night before or since you met, since he and Bob became fused to this spot.

He reached out for you. 

“Lone?” the bark above his eyes seemed to crease with worry, as he noted the scrapes on your soft skin. 

“Harold, how did you…?” Your voice was a squeak, partly from pain, and partly from the disbelief that strained your throat. “Hon, you moved. You're moving now, it’s… this is incredible!”

You sprung up as he helped you, crashing your body to his in a hug that he returned. 

If it were possible, Harold knew he would’ve wept at the way he could hold you now. 

“Lone, are you alright?” 

“Better.” You smiled at him, that glowing smile that held the stars, and Harold couldn’t help himself. 

This new discovery of his, who knew how fleeting it would be? While he had it, he was going to take advantage of it. 

He scooped you up into his hold, easing you close to his face again, and pulled you near enough to kiss. 

It would’ve been a fool’s hope, he knew, to wish to move his face, his mouth, more than he already could, but he wished for that too, nonetheless. 

What's the harm in wishing, really?

Your hands went back to his face, and in the peace of the night, in the stillness, he could feel your breath, hear your soft sighs, he could even… could he taste you? Cool spring water and edible flowers, the juice of a mutfruit, and… a tinge of him, of Bob, that brash oakiness and sweet syrup. 

To taste a bit of his likeness on you was a pleasure Harold wouldn’t soon forget. 

A gasp released from the both of you, as your hips began to… move. Harold had seen this likeness before, in dances, in strange rituals, in… perhaps in another life, but to feel you on him, your heat grinding into his large, bark-gloved hand as your lips stayed locked to his, it lit that boiling feeling in his belly until he feared he really would go up in flames. 

Harold blinked open his eyes, slowly, reluctantly, to plead with you to carry on, to ask what you wanted from him, to beg to give it to you, anything and everything he was, he’d give to you, because without you, well… You both already knew where he’d be. 

Then his gaze caught the undesirable stirring of the man on the ground at his feet–roots. 

Birch was groaning, still only half conscious from the force that’d been on his windpipe, but his eyes were slowly blinking open. 

“Harold.” You pulled his attention back easily. “Don’t even look at him, okay? Birch doesn’t matter. All those people out there, who treat you like nothing more than an extension of Bob? They don’t matter either, okay?” 

The grip of his hand tightened over your backside, keeping you pressed firmly to his front. 

“It’s just you and me now.” 

[bloobluebloo]

There was a small hylian man in the city forbidden to him, but he was permitted to stay, because he was polite.

He was helpful, at least in intentions, and chipper in conversation. He sat on the wall when sun fell, taking his optimistic smile with it. He paid proper fare to spend the night in privacy, or else stayed not at all. It was, after all, impossible to get him to stand still.

For the first time in his life, Ganondorf was not the only man among the Gerudo.

He was a secret in name, lest other men use him as an excuse to trample the law. The new guest was able to uphold the bar to entry through his works- he had fought to protect the people twice over. Any lecherous slug would have to rise to his measure to be given the equal of his reward. Ganondorf lived in the city because he was of the people, no less a sister than any other daughter raised within the walls. He lived as they did, cursing the noon day heat and midnight cold and brushing down the seals anyway. He did not need to prove himself. He was someone the outsiders refused to understand.

Except, perhaps, this little hero who bought every piece of jewelry and cut of meat the moment he had the rupees for it. When Gan had spoken to him, he made no comment on his height or broad shoulders. Gan asked if he had a favourite seal yet, after his many visits. The hylian did have a favourite- all of them, and he prattled on about the sand seals for twenty minutes before he noticed the time passing.

It was no wonder that Riju spoke for him, and after watching him spar with the guards in the courtyard, even less a wonder that Buliara agreed.

The next time he and Link spoke, he meant to ask his thoughts on a male among the gerudo. Instead, somehow, he asked if the hylian had seen horses in his travels. To summerize the next four hours of their conversation, Link had seen horses. He knew a fair bit about them, too, and to Gan's delight he had a little slate that captured the likeness of things, and more than half of the captures Link had made were of horses.

"You're inviting trouble." Bularia said, with a sternness in her voice she had learned from her mother. "If you reveal this about yourself, you are presuming it is sufficient context for his behaviour to change. Either he has presumed, or he has not, and he has chosen accordingly already."

Gan sat in the frame of the window and let the water framing the palace run through his fingers. "What friends keep secrets for fear of their knowing?"

"Oh?" She leaned her shoulder against the wall. "You are friends, now?"

Gan huffed. Her point was clear.

"He keeps thousands of secrets, Ganondorf." Bularia softened her tone. "For the same reasons and many more. To divulge your one when there can be no balance-"

"Invites trouble." He rolled his eyes. "How can you trust him at all, then?"

"His actions speak," she replied, easy as anything. "But he is still an outsider. You trust a guest with your finest plates, but not your mother's jewels. I will not forbid you to speak with him- it will draw his curiosity. Do not invite trouble."

She left him to return to her post. She gave orders in the hall, and marched with assurance over its rugs. She left him in the window to ponder all the ways that he might invite trouble.

And then he noticed a shadow.

He leaned out the window.

Link was sitting on the roof, eating from a pita stuffed with potato and lamb.

"She knew you were there the whole time, didn't she?" Gan asked.

Link shrugged. And through a mouthful of good food, "Prohblee."

Gan leaned out of the window until it hurt his back. "Have you ever seen a bear?"

Link grinned.

STOP THAT’S TOO CUTE 😭😭😭

Link probably figured it out the second he spoke to Ganondorf anyways but of course, of course they spoke about horses for hours horsegirls as they are. Is Link going to tell him about how he has ridden bears…🤭

[mattypattypinky]

ahhhhhh I had a nightmare that I had to go to school again. That's silly but like my general schooling experience makes my anxiety go thru the roof (part of the reason I dropped out) and I woke up w my heart racing bc I had a dream that I put my foot down and said that I was done and instead of my dad letting me quit he forced me to go back and that's terrifying to me.

The entire time I was in High School I was in a manipulative relationship and felt like I had to be texting them every waking moment, so I neglected schoolwork. Ontop of that my mom died during my freshman year ending summer in June, and the entire time I was in high school my dad made it seem like the only reason I needed to go to high school was because "Once he graduates he can get a job' - he treated me like such w waste of space and a nuisance for needing him to drive me in the mornings bc i don't have a license or learners permit and I've had multiple social anxiety attacks and autistic meltdowns on school busses and at school. Idk man I just... It's been like, a year since I dropped out and I still get these nightmares of me being forced to go again. Of all the expectations I faced. The people around me being mad I was failing even though no one helped me, the overstimulation the crowds gave me, the feel of needing to rely on some online partner who drained me and made me feel like I couldn't focus on school work or anything except them, the guilt I faced of things I did at 15-16 to my ex friends that I can never forget, so many things are associated with my schooling experience it makes me wake up sick and nauseated just thinking abt school. I never wanna go back. I didn't have a single friend in my high school experience, and the one friend i had in freshman year was not in any of my classes or lunch periods for the rest of my entire HS experience. They purposefully seperate friend's that aren't hurting anyone but they let obnoxious loud kids who keep disrupting classes sit together. I feel like maybe if they didn't separate us, I'd still be talking to him, I'd maybe have had a better schooling experience bc I'd have had someone to lean on that wasn't an online partner at the time, not even my dad listened to me about my stresses, he always said I was overreacting. Maybe I'm starting a period or something, take a pill it'll go away. It doesn't just go away with a pill, it was scary. It was traumatic. I never want to be in the range of a school system again 😭😭😭 Maybe I am being dramatic but it makes me want to vomit in the mornings and wake up in a cold sweat with my heart racing, and my anxiety can't take it, even years after i dropped out i still FEAR it all.

[gfcheol]

omg 1 & 39 w cheol 😭🫶🏼

seungcheol x reader

1 - i love it when you moan my name

39 - i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly

tags: ceo!cheol, dom!cheol, secretary!reader, lil bit of size kink, jealousy, office sex (or not this isn't actual sex yet), dirty talk

you were used to the silence of the office during the evening - sun setting over the skyline, employees rushing home to their families, tired complaints from those working overtime. it all served as your very own background noise as you waited for your boss to finally finish his projects and and pack his things as well.

choi seungcheol was a busy man. well liked and respected, efficient in his business deals and, on top of that, rather handsome as well - a fact that didn't go unnoticed by you. after all, how could anyone? his suits were custom tailored for him, his gaze intense and his gait swift and determined. anyone would agree how attractive of a man he was - and you were lucky enough to do his paperworks and schedule his appointments.

to no one's surprise, working with him proved to be rather difficult.

"sir?", you asked, looking up from your computer. "i uh- i don't mean to be rude, but may i leave a bit earlier than you today?"

it wasn't any lack of professionalism on his part, no - it was that any time he even just glanced in your general direction, you felt your cheeks burns, trying your best to pay attention to what he was telling you. it didn't help how much of a flirt he seemed to be. a cocky smirk would play on the edge of his lips as he noticed your nervous replies and skittish nods, feeling his ego swell in his chest.

it'd become a habit between you. he'd flirt with you to see your anxiety grow and in return, your skirts would become gradually shorter and tighter. a fair deal, you mused. although you were certain seungcheol didn't share that sentiment with you.

seungcheol's head perked up at that, setting his paperwork aside. he slicked back some of the lose strands of hair that had come undoney eyes narrowing as he raised his brow. "oh? big plans for tonight?"

despite yourself, you felt yourself smile. "you could say that."

"a date?"

you paused, contemplating for a heartbeat. "why so curious, mr choi?"

leaning back into his chair, he returned your smile. although it seemed tighter on him, lacking kindness. "am i not allowed to know?"

"and what if i said 'yes'?", you replied, feeling bold as you held his gaze, watching him stand from his desk. "am i allowed to 'withhold' private information, mr choi? or is that not permitted?"

you were pushing your luck now. seungcheol's pace was slow as he sauntered over to you, yet his determination felt tangible, his tight lipped smile never leaving him. you felt like prey being cornered. "you're more daring than usual", he said, hands moving to losen his tie. "what happened to the shy girl that couldn't look me in the eye? does she think she can talk back now that she has a date with some no name?"

finally, you felt your cool facade crumble under his words. "th- that's- he's not a no name."

"mhm", he leaned on your desk now, his proximity driving you a little bit insane. "does he know that his girlfriend wear the tightest, little skirts for her boss?"

"we're not together!" your eyes widened. shit. "i- i meant to say-"

his hand cupped the side of your face, thumb running along your bottom lip - your heart felt like it was about to burst. "there's no use in denying, sweetheart. i've seen you look at me."

"mr choi", you whimpered, leaning into his touch without any trace of shame.

this only added fuel to his fire, other hand toying with the first button of your blouse, humming at your reaction. "tell me what you want me to do to you."

you swallowed. "i've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly."

freeing you from the confines of your blouse, he pushed his thumb into your mouth, groaning at the feeling. "fuck."

without as much as a warning, he lifted you up from your suit, gently seating you on top of your desk, right between his legs. you felt so small holding on to his strong arms, biceps bulging under your touch. your mouth watered at the thought of what they'd look like underneath his prim and proper suit. he held your hips in place as his lips finally connected with yours, a faint sigh of his name escaping you.

"mr ch- seungcheol, please."

seungcheol smiled into the kiss. "i love it when you moan my name, sweetheart."

[serosluv2]

★﹒₊‧driving headcanons

izuku is the worst driver. omfg. he either goes 15 over or under the speed limit, he makes signals that indicate ppl can cut him off or something, and then he gets MAD!! izuku has road rage horribly. he cannot drive. he's also scared of oncoming traffic so he's 9/10 driving in the shoulder 😭😭 never been pulled over bc he rarely drives.

mina beat izuku for the 2nd worst BY A HAIR. she's almost the same as izuku but her music is up all the way, she's jamming out, dancing and trying to eat her mcdonald's fries on the freeway. only difference is she stays in the lane fairy well. she's been pulled over quiet alot 😐

bakugou 2nd best driver. ik he's really abrasive usually but driving is like his therapy. he's calm, very attentive, and his music volume is always at like 15/50. he doesn't get road rage, he just curses under his breath, a lot. does speed like 5-10 over. (mans got places to be) BUT he as never gotten pulled over.

denki is the best driver on this list ! i said it. he got his license first, and he also has alot of practice driving w his permit and before. i headcanon that he is a child of a single mom, and she works 24/7 so he often drove himself to places. he never speeds, if he does it's like 2 over at max!! he's a great multitasker so he can talk, eat, and/or jam to music while driving perfectly. he's the designated driver among class 1A.

[frick6101719]

Anon thay requested the Kaz as a dad headcanons THANK YOU I live for Kanej as parents!! I’m obsessed with girl dad Kaz!! The first weeks Kaz not sleeping just obsessively watching and taking care of their baby 😭🥺 Would always love more kanej family fic

Hey thank YOU I had so much fun writing those headcanons and dreaming about this wee family 🖤 wrote this at work today; hope you like it!

~

He didn’t normally take meetings at the house, and even more rarely did he take them this late at night. He and Inej had agreed to keep Dregs business out of their home, when possible (it wasn’t always possible--sometimes Pim was a clumsy oaf and fell through the window on a job around the corner and needed stitched up on their kitchen table), but tonight it was just Anika and Roeder and some plans for expanding their export business. Really, it was barely Dregs-related. Nearly half of the plan was even legal.

“What about the warehouses?”

Anika shook her head, yawning behind her hand. “No issues. We’ve got all the right documentation, and even then the Stadwatch don’t even know those units are ours, so we’re fully in the clear once the permits come through.”

He turned to Roeder. “And how are the permits coming?”

He sighed. “Sittart is pretty clean, we haven’t dug up anything very helpful, yet.”

“Well if blackmail isn’t going to work, is there something we can offer him to get his cooperation? Make it a fair exchange?”

Roeder shrugged. “He doesn’t seem like a particularly ambitious man. Seems pretty happy where he is at work, no mistress or dirty laundry or anything.”

People with no ambition and no imagination always made his life difficult. “Well, what about his family? Does he have a child or a sibling or someone who has aspirations of some kind?”

“I think he might have a niece at the university? And his father has some sort of condition that requires a nurse coming by their house twice a week.”

Kaz frowned. “Well, see what you can do about that. About the niece--I’ll make contact with the hospital to see what’s going on with the father. We’re going to need something--what is it Jas?”

Anika nearly fell out of her chair when she turned and saw the four-year-old who’d seemed to appear out of thin air between her and Roeder. Even the spider looked startled. That’s what they get for forgetting to lock the door, he thought proudly.

Jasmijn rubbed her eyes. One of her braids had come loose, and the long auburn hair on that side hung in a tangle. He must not have tied it tight enough when he put the girls to bed. “Where’s Mama?” she asked, voice scratchy from sleep.

“She’s gone away for a little bit, remember darling? On her ship?”

“Oh.” She looked up at Roeder, then Anika, her eyes widening at the stitches above Anika’s eyebrow and the purple and yellow bruising that reached down to her cheekbone. She pointed. “What happened?”

“Oh, me and Uncle Pim had a very mean man at work on Friday. Don’t worry though baby girl,” she leaned close, winking. “We took care of him.”

She looked up, eyes wide, brows raised in wonder. “How?”

With a flick of her wrist, an extendable baton slipped out of Anika’s sleeve and into her hand. “Taught him a lesson with this. Here, you can hit Uncle Roeder with it if you want.”

Jasmijn reached out eagerly, stopping only when Kaz cleared his throat.

“Jas,” he said, the warning in his tone clear. “Where are you supposed to be right now?”

She feigned innocence. “I don’t know.”

“Jasmijn...”

Her little face fell. “Da… I-I had a bad dream.” She turned her most pleading, wide-eyed look his way, “Can I stay up a little longer?”

She was joined in her begging by Anika and Roeder, who looked at him with matching hopeful expressions. They were far too eager to let his daughter derail their meeting. They were here to do work.

He sighed. “Come here, darling. Can you be good for twenty minutes?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes--I’ll be good--I promise.” Without waiting for a further invitation she ran around his desk, practically leaping onto his lap.

Kaz grimaced as her weight landed abruptly on his bad leg. He lifted her to the other side, and she immediately drew her legs up to sit in a little ball, nestling close against his chest. “I’ll be good--I’ll be very quiet,” she whispered.

Roeder and Anika were both losing the fight to keep their faces impassive. Kaz gave them both a hard look, even as he shifted so he could hold Jas securely with only one arm. It wasn’t easy to be intimidating while cradling a small child, but after a few years it was an art he’d all but perfected.

Anika folded her hands on her lap. “Well, I for one would very much like to hear Jasmijn’s input on our plan.”

Jas turned her face into Kaz’s shirt, trying to smother her giggle.

He raised an eyebrow. “Jas has to earn her way to her own seat at these meetings,” he said. “Besides, if I give her too much influence now, pretty soon Roeder will be out of a job. She’s already much stealthier than he is.”

Roeder scowled. “Hey, between you and Inej... she has an unfair genetic advantage.”

Kaz looked down at his daughter, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jas, love, how old are you?”

She held up four fingers, returning his smile with a shy one of her own. “This many.”

Anika grinned at her companion, also holding up four fingers. “This many, Roeder. How old are you again?" She pretended to think. "I don’t think I have enough fingers. Or toes!”

“Doesn’t help that you’re not very good at math,” he fired back. “Do you even know how many this many is, Anika?”

Kaz cut them off before they could run away with this little spat. Honestly, his four and seven-year old were better behaved than these two. “The niece at the university, Roeder. Look into her.” He turned to Anika. “Until we get these permits and the contract, I need you to make sure the Stadwatch don’t look too closely at what’s in those crates. Understood?” He barely waited for her nod before he turned to his other daughter. “Ros, darling is everything alright?”

Both Dregs jumped several feet when they turned and saw Rosanna standing between them.

“Ghezen’s tit!” Roeder cursed, clutching the arms of his chair. “How the fu… how do you two do that?”

Ros just blinked at him, her wide eyes as dark as wet pavement. She tilted her head. “Ghezen’s what?”