#Rang ah you deserved so much better

[love-is-dean]

Never forget that this scene still exists😩😭 yes. In the end nothing really changed in the original timeline and this was the reality Yeon came back to: a "happy" life that cost him his brother, Lee Rang who had to sacrifice himself for Yeon just when he had finally found his place in the world and just wanted to live ..💔

Just look at those eyes and his sad smile when he asks to see his family for the last time😭

His nervous eyes watching the sand watch, worrying whether his family could make it in time for him...😭💔

The shock when he hears them crying out for him...

And his peaceful face when he sees them from a far, knowing they didn't leave him alone, that now he had a family who cared about him...💔

His last words💔 and the way he tried to smile for Yeon through his sad silent tears...😭

Azaleas...🌸 💔

No. Nothing, absolutely nothing will ever wipe out the sad memory of the broken half fox Lee Rang who suffered through his whole life, never got to experience peace and happiness in his 600years of tragic life and died even a more tragic death, trading his own life for his brother just when had found his will to live and was cherishing his life, all alone and scared waiting for his death while mourning his brother and wishing to meet him again, recording a tearful goodbye video and weeping sadly right infront of the god who couldn't wait to take his precious life away; counting his seconds hoping to see his family before his death... and still not even getting the chance to say goodbye to them! Lee Rang left this unkind world on a snowy day with a longing in his heart for his family and a wish to see them for the last time, missing and grieving his brother till his last seconds, still in peace coz.. he knew Yeon would come back but heartbroken knowing he won't be there when that happens, and so sad coz he really didn't want to leave his loved ones, coz he wanted to be there with them on his side and for once enjoying life but knowing his time was up and he was doomed to lose again what he finally had found after long years of suffering and loneliness! Such cruel fate.

Yes. No matter what happened in s2, the s1 sad ending didn't change and my lonely fox child still died scared, sad and lonely without getting the chance to see his loved ones again and nothing, nothing will ever fix that.

[forsakenmb]

Best Friend's Brother

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x Reader 

Word Count - 4.3k

Warnings - Dark! Rafe Cameron, Possessive!Rafe?, non-con/dub-con, violence, degradation, alcohol use, manhandling, unprotected sex, dacryphilia

“You should come over tonight” Sarah said through the call, “My dad, Rose, and Wheezie are out for the weekend, we could break into his liquor cabinet” she chimed.

“What about your brother?” you asked. Finals had just concluded, and you didn't need his shit today or any day for that matter..

Rafe Cameron, the Kook King, the biggest douchebag you've ever known. He hates Sarah, so he hates you too. He's called you many names ranging from: an attention-seeking whore, pogue trash, and the ‘Virgin-Mary’.

You've known Rafe and Sarah since you were thirteen, and he wasn't exactly nice to you back then but certainly not now. Since you turned fifteen your friendship with Sarah infuriated him, according to him you were just ‘trash’ that didn't deserve to be in the presence of Kooks.

“Forget about him” she groaned, she knows how much of an ass he is. “We can hang out in my room, watch movies, and get drunk”

Refusal on the tip of your tongue, she pleaded with you again, “Please!” she begged.

“Alright, alright” your relented, hesitation still stuck inside of you. A wary feeling deep in you peeking its ugly head out.

“Okay! See you later” she squealed happily, the call ending soon after.

By the time you were getting into your vehicle the sun was setting, casting hues of orange over the Island. 

The drive was quiet and peaceful, the colorful sky now replaced with pitch-blackness as you pulled into the driveway of Tannyhill. 

As you approached the front door you were going to walk in like you've always done. Whilst reaching for the handle, the door suddenly jerked open. You expected to see Sarah if anything, not Rafe.

He was standing in the doorway, moving through the threshold wasn't an option. His taller frame blocked you from entering the residence.

“Ah, if it isn't the pogue herself” he sneered, a wide smirk plastered on his face.

“Can you move out of my fucking way.” you snapped, your brows furrowed together in frustration.

“Don't get your panties in a twist” The oldest Cameron jeered, rolling his eyes. You wondered if he rolled them any farther, he could see his eye sockets. He moved aside just enough so you could squeeze through.

You glared daggers at him, but all he did was tap his foot impatiently on the floor.

Giving up, you wedged yourself past him; your front pressed wholly against his and you could've sworn he pressed his hips further into you.

Walking farther into the house towards the staircase, you felt his eyes boring into you. But when you glanced over to him it wasn't a glare, but something dark and depraved. Something you weren't too keen on discovering.

You practically sprinted up the stairs to Sarah's room, your heart racing in your chest. Why were you so scared? It was just a look, but it elicited such fear from you.

“What took you so long?” she asked, lounging lazily across her bed as you entered her room.

“Your brother” was all you said before plopping down next to her. The room was silent for a moment before Sarah sighed and sat up.

“He's an asshole” she said blandly, setting her phone down on the bed. “I'm going to grab the alcohol” she stated, getting up from her spot and walking towards the door. “You pick the movie” she told you before walking out of the room.

When Sarah returned she held two bottles; one held a bronze liquid, which looked like whiskey. The other held a clear drink, which was either Vodka or Tequila.

“What movie are we watching?” She questioned, moving towards the bed to lay next to you.

“Scream?” you ask, looking through your options. It didn't seem likely you'd find anything better at this point.

“That's fine” Sarah said, handing you the bottle of clear liquid. She settled down as you started the movie.

Taking a look at the bottle in your hand you saw that it was in fact Vodka. You screwed the cap open and took a swig from it. The burning taste of the liquor was strong, it left you viscerally cringing, a small cough rising through your throat.

Sarah giggled at you, then she too opened the top on the bottle she was holding and took a drink from it. 

The night progressed smoothly, drunken giggles filled the room, the movie long forgotten and replaced by talking and chatter.

“I'm tired” Sarah drunkenly groaned, plowing backwards onto her pillows. 

“Me too” you said, words slurring together. “But I'm so thirsty”

“Then go get a drink” she said, eyes already starting to drift shut, a small yawn slipping past her lips.

“Okayyy, I'll be back” you groaned, stumbling lightly as you stood. You made your way out of Sarah's room and down the hall to the staircase. Gripping the railing you were about to start the descent when a pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you backwards.

You didn't need to turn around to know it was Rafe Cameron. “This isn't funny Rafe” you hissed through gritted teeth, squirming in his grasp to get him to relinquish his hold.

It was quiet for a moment, his arms around your torso still firm even as you continued trying to worm away from the taller man. His breath fanned across the shell of your ear, then a deep chuckle vibrated through your skull, “I'm not trying to be funny ”.

“Let me go!” You growled, your voice rising in volume, as you began to thrash around. Before you could say anything else, Rafe moved to pull a hand over your mouth, his other arm still wrapped bruisingly tight around you, pressing you deeper into his body. Like a boa constrictor engulfing its prey.

Fear gripped you, your heart pounding in your chest. Struggling harder than before, you began to try and kick, hit, and bite, all futile and in vain.

The hand over your mouth slithered its way down to the column of your throat, gripping it tightly and cutting off any airflow in its wake. The shock alone made you go as stiff as stone, you could hear your heart in your ears and tears started to crowd your waterline.

“R..afe” you choked up. You couldn't breathe at all, it was getting harder to think as the seconds passed by. Your hands weakly reached up to scratch at the limb that was crushing your windpipe, but with the lack-of airflow the only thing you could manage to do was dig your nails into his wrist.

Black dots started to adorn your vision, your mind consumed in a fogginess you couldn't escape, just like you couldn't escape Rafe. As you were about to lose consciousness the iron grip on your throat loosened, you let in a sharp breath, your lungs not getting enough of the oxygen you were consuming.

The hand still holding your throat snaked away and roughly grabbed the back of your neck, the one around your torso gone. “Now fucking walk.” he hissed into your ear through gritted teeth.

A numbing fear spreading throughout your body, your legs wouldn't move an inch. Behind you a scoff could be heard before you were shoved forward roughly, your feet barely catching you before you hit the ground. Your legs shaking violently as you began to slowly move forward to where he was pushing you.

Rafe Cameron's a lot of things, a drug abuser, a belligerent person, but never in your life did you think he'd do something like this. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your walking was halted, the hand on your nape gripping tighter. You were in front of his bedroom door, you'd never been in there before, he might have killed you if you went in there, but he might also kill you now.

His free hand opened the door, the other shoving you through it. This time you couldn't catch yourself before you collided with the floor. Although you felt sober, the alcohol still in your system made getting up hard. Tears began to flow down your face, your whimpers and sobs the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. 

“Get up” he said, anger and hate dripping from his deep baritone voice.

“I -I” was all you could get out before more sobs racked through your body, hyperventilating from the situation you were in. He was standing in front of the door, looking down at you like you were the bane of his existence.

“Don't make me ask again” he said, his voice rising just enough to make you flinch. But still you sat on the floor, crying harder than before.

Heavy footsteps began to approach you, before you could look up to see him towering over you a hand knotted itself into your hair, yanking you upwards onto your feet, a loud cry escaping your lips. “You just love being fucking difficult, don't ya?” He jeered, yanking your head back by the roots of your hair.

Gripping at the short sleeve shirt he wore, you cried out, “N-No, I'm sorry Rafe, I'm sorry” you were an inconsolable mess, you didn't even know what you were apologizing for. 

“No you're not” he said pulling your face closer to his, “Not yet”

Closing your eyes as more tears bled down your face; fear bubbled inside of you, nausea swirling in the pit of your stomach.

His other hand grabbed at your chin, “Look at me” he sneered. Even though it was asked like you had an option, you knew you didn't.

You peeled your tear soaked eyes open, and looked up at him. His face was deadly, he looked murderous. Ready to kill you if breathed the wrong way.

“She learns” he sneered, a wide mirthful smile spread across his face. “Now, since you like to walk around this island in these skimpy shorts..” he said, the hand in your hair moving quickly to grope your rear through your biker shorts.

“Rafe… stop” you sobbed, the feeling of his large hand gripping your behind causing you to shiver in his hold, the nausea in your stomach worsening.

“You don't get to tell me what to do” he said, the faux smile now replaced with a look of anger again. He started using the hand on your chin to back you into a wall, pressing your back flat against it. “Here's how things are going to go, you're going to shut up, and stand there, got it?” he said, tilting your head back as far as it would go.

More tears came rushing to your eyes, your bottom lip trembled as you watched Rafe stare down at you like a predator hunting his prey. The hand previously on your ass was now slithering its way up your sides, and under the edge of your crop-top.

His hand on your bare skin felt like fire engulfing every area he touched, then he slid his hand over the whole of your breast, giving it a rough squeeze: then circling his thumb over the bud of your nipple. A deep groan rising in his throat.

Something about his reaction to your fear and body reignited a flame inside of you, “Rafe, I said stop!” You said, shoving him away to the best of your ability.

That same flame snuffed out seconds later when he grabbed your throat harshly and slammed you into the wall, your head knocking against it so hard pain started to bloom in your skull immediately.

“Are you stupid?” He said, pressing you harder into the wall by your neck. “Fine, be difficult.”

His second hand came up to your face, grabbing your cheeks and prying your mouth open before shoving his index and middle fingers down your esophagus, effectively gagging you. “If you bite me, I'll knock your teeth down your fucking throat” he warned, and from his tone of voice this wasn't  an empty threat.

The digits lodged in your throat caused you to gag and choke around him. He resumed his ministrations on your breasts, grabbing and groping until he was satisfied.

The hand under your shirt slipped out, and began traveling down your stomach to the hem of your shorts. You tried telling him to stop again, but only incoherent gargles were made out.

“What did you say?” He taunted, the tips of fingers sliding just below the fabric of your shorts. More tears bubbled up to your waterline.

Fighting him is useless, all you could do was stand there and take it. Before his hand traveled any further, it retreated, as did the fingers in your mouth.

His hand grabbed your chin again, but this time almost gently. Then his lips smashed onto yours in a hungry, aggressive kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. His hand grabbed the nape of your  neck and pulled you closer to himself.

Pulling away, he whispered in your ear, “I'm going to ruin you so well, that no guy within a twenty-mile radius will want you” he sounded crazy, he knew  he sounded crazy.

“Rafe..don't, please” you pleaded again, sinking further into the wall as if it were going to consume you.

“Sh sh” he cooed at you, “You have no reason to be crying, not yet”

Brushing a couple strands of loose hair away from your face, he took a good at you; your disheveled hair from when he yanked you off of the ground, your tear stained face and fearful eyes, how your bottom lip is still trembling, the way your chest was rising and falling rapidly. “On your knees” he told you. 

Another soft sob left your lips, your eyes falling shut. Sinking down onto your knees in front of him, a laugh sounded from above you, a genuine, hearty laugh.

“I always knew you were a slut” he said, his voice laced with a noxious venom that was seeping into your bloodstream. “I told you to look at me” he snarled, a hand again gripping the roots of your hair.

Looking up at him through watery lashes, he groaned again. One hand still planted firmly in your hair, the other coming up to the waistband of his pajama pants and tugging them down just below the bulge in his boxers. "You should consider yourself lucky" he chuckled, also pulling down his draws enough to take out his cock.

There it stood, fully erect; he was huge, the tip an angry red, veins trailing up and down the length of it.

He gripped the base of his cock with his free hand, pumping it lightly, dragging you closer by your hair until you were face to face with it, “I don't wanna-” before could finish your plea he thrusted his cock into your mouth and sank in as far as he could. Your gagged chokes were the only thing heard as he thrusted into your mouth once more to the hilt of his cock.

“Fuck..” he growled, pulling out and thrusting back into your mouth. He was too big, your throat is already getting sore from his treatment. Before long he set a harsh pace, fucking into your mouth over and over again. You couldn't breath with the way his cock was being lodged into your throat repeatedly, another round of heavy tears crowded your eyesight forcing their way down your cheeks, though you still kept your eyes glued to his. Tears and drool meet at your chin, dripping down your neck making a horrid mess.

It felt like hours were going by as he continued to use your mouth for his pleasure. His grunts and groans became more frequent the longer it went on, drips of pre-cum coating your tongue with every rough thrust. “Fuuck” Rafe moaned, his head dipping back as his movement stilled and he held you in place on his cock. His length throbbed inside of your throat, and after a couple of moments cum was filling your mouth, and airways; with his hand still planted in your hair, all you could do was choke it down. 

He pulled out seconds after, you inhaled in a gasp, coughing and choking on the build up of saliva. More tears rushing to the surface. The hand in your hair now gone, but he still stood over you glaring down.

“C-Can I go now..” you asked in a quiet sob, your voice weak and sore. You looked at the floor, the feeling of his eyes on you too much to bear now.

“God, you really are fucking stupid” he laughed, stripping himself of his pants and boxers. “No, you can't leave,” he barked. “Now stand up” 

A whimper escaped past your lips as you slowly stood up, leaning against the wall for support, still staring down at the floor.

His hands came up to your top, pulling it up and off of you. Next they came down to the band of your shorts, this time you weakly grabbed at his wrists, a pathetic attempt on your end. Still he ripped them halfway down your thighs in one go, then yanked them down in another motion, left pooling around your ankles. 

The only thing you wore now was your panties, all he stood wearing was his short sleeve shirt.

“Go lay your ass down,” he said, pointing at the bed behind him. You didn't say anything as you took slow steps towards the large bed, which seemed to seal your fate. 

Going to lay face down on the mattress a tight grip was placed on your shoulder. “On your back” he demanded, his temper seeming ready to snap again. 

Turning around and sitting on the bed in front of Rafe, your gaze remained on the floor. Before you could lay back he shoved you onto the bed, a gasp getting caught in your throat.

He began trailing his fingertips up your thighs slowly, the feeling sending shivers down your spine, chilling you to the bone. They dragged up the sides of your thighs, your hips, to the hem of your underwear; then gripping it and pulling them down your legs slowly.

Your body finally bare to him, he looked you over completely.  “Spread your legs” he commanded, hands traveling back down to your thighs, tapping on them impatiently. Still you kept them squeezed shut, refusing to give him what he wanted.

“You must love it when I'm rough with you” he growled, gripping your thighs and prying them apart against your will. Squeezing between them, his hips made it so you couldn't possibly close them now.

His cock laid against your stomach, making it look bigger than before. Pulling back a little, one of the hands on your thigh slid farther up until he was practically cupping your cunt. 

A scoff escaped his lips when he slid a finger through your folds. “Y'know, you keep begging me to stop..” he said, bringing his fingers to your mouth and shoving them back down your throat so you could taste yourself coating his fingers. “You're awfully fucking wet”

Humiliation and embarrassment swelled inside of you, a deep red spreading across your face with his finger still inside of your mouth.

After a couple seconds of holding his fingers down your throat he dislodged them, then moved the hand from your face down to your core, spreading your saliva across your folds before suddenly plunging a finger inside of you. 

A loud cry left your lips, following that, a sharp sting spread across your face as your head snapped to the side with the force of the impact. He slapped  you.

“How many fucking times do I have go tell you to shut up” he barked, punctuating his sentence by pulling his finger out of you and roughly pushing it back in. A cry getting caught in your throat, you managed to keep quiet by biting down on your persistently trembling bottom lip.

Again, he slid his finger in and out of you: when it became easy to sink his digit into you he added another. You could feel yourself dripping onto his fingers and down onto the bed sheets. A muffled whimper escaped your mouth and that only seemed to rile Rafe up more, as he began thrusting his digits into you harder, rocking your body with every motion of his hand. His thumb ghosting lightly over your clit, before rolling the bud under his finger.

A moan clawed its way up your throat and out into the open, though he said nothing, Rafe leaned down and caught your lips in a bruising kiss, shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

He sped up his ministrations on your cunt, finger curling and hitting spots that had you shamefully wet. You didn't want this, but your body was betraying you, reacting to everything he's doing to you.

You felt your cunny squeeze around his finger, suck them in greedily. Rafe pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. “You're gonna cum already?” He asked almost mockingly, a laugh on the tip of his tongue.

Shaking your head quickly, you knew it was a lie. The tightening feeling in your stomach, the way you could feel yourself throbbing around his fingers. You were sure he could feel it too.

“Liar” was all he said before drawing tight small circles on your clit, fingers moving faster, if possible. It didn't take long before the tightening feeling in your core snapped; a long whimper escaping your bruised lips.

Your hands gripped the duvet covering the bed, thighs attempting to close without success. Heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

Your core tightened around the fingers inside of you, still pushing you through your high.

Slowing his movements down but never completely stopping, he looked at you intensely: watching every face you made in your post-orgasm state.

He practically ripped his fingers out of you, and removed the shirt he wore. Leaning over you, one hand next to your head to steady himself, the other grabbing the base of his cock and moving to slide the tip through your folds, spreading your slick against the crown of it.

“You should be thanking me,” he said, pressing his cock-head harder against your core, just enough pressure make you squirm.

With the remaining energy you had, you looked into his eyes and sneered, ”Fuck you “ through gritted teeth.

Thrusting into you in one quick motion, he laughed, “No, I'm fucking you. “ A sharp cry was forced out of you, more tears rushing down your face. It didn't matter how wet you were, it felt like he was splitting you in two.

Giving you no time to adjust before he gripped one of your hips and harshly started rutting into you with reckless abandon. Your cunt was throbbing with pain you'd never felt before.

“Rafe! Stop, it hurts!” You cried out, your hands letting go of the duvet to push at his chest.

Again he laughed, “Good, maybe you'll learn to keep that mouth of yours shut” he seemed genuinely amused by the pain you were in, the pain he was putting you through.

The burning sensation between your legs was unbelievable, but what was even more unimaginable was when the sharp ache between your legs was replaced with pleasure that was spreading through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve in your body. 

A moan ripped through the air, instead of pushing at this chest you resorted to digging your nails into his biceps, the only thing you could manage in your state.

“What a whore” he groaned, leaning down and taking one of your nipples in his mouth; releasing it, then nipping roughly at the bud. Another soft moan left your lips. “You fucking love this, I feel the way your pussy is pulling me in” he said, leaned closer into you, watching as tears slid down your rosy face.

“Fuck” he grunted, leaning down and catching your lips in his again. The kiss was scorching hot, melting almost. Your lungs left empty from the way he was fucking into you, now you thought you were going to asphyxiate.

He started to trail the kiss to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, down your neck to then start sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin, leaving hickeys in his wake. More low moans and whimpers spilling from your mouth the longer he's inside of you.

“Rafe… please” you whined, hips bucking upwards involuntarily, your eyes screwed shut from the unwanted pleasure coursing through your veins.

“That's it, fuckin’ beg for it” he growled, hips slamming into you at a brutal pace. Lifting himself to lean back on his haunches he gripped your hips and dragged you down onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

Sweat gathering at your hairline, too fucked out to do anything other than lay there and take it. One hand left your hip to start drawing random shapes on your clit. 

“Rafe…don't” you gasped, your orgasm building up quicker than the last. Your throat hurt still from his earlier treatment of it, and your strained moans only came to irritate it more.

“I'll do as I fucking please” he snarled, giving you a particularly rough thrust to get his point across. Beads of sweat snaked down his forehead as he continued to fuck you hard enough to make the bed sway back and forth.

An incoherent moan left your lips as the first waves of your orgasm washed over you, drowning in a sea of pleasure you never asked for.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy and his pace long forgotten, his only goal was reaching his peak.

Before long his hips stilled, his cock sunk as deep it would go, kissing your most sensitive spot when warmth spread through your cunt as he filled you with his seed, dripping out from around him and onto the bed below.

Your eyes widened as you looked at Rafe like he had two heads, “D-Did you-” disbelief filled you as he smirked down at you with that same mirthful smile.

“What do you think, baby?” his use of the pet name making you sick, his cock still deep inside of you.

Moving in every way to try and squirm back from him, all he did was press you into the mattress by your hips and muttered a simple, “I'm not done yet”

The End

[ghostlygeto]

back home | hinata shoyo

pairing: hinata shoyo x gn!reader

warnings: breakups, hurt/comfort, brazil era hinata, reader is too good for him...they deserve better...., hinata calls reader "baby", they make up!, not proof read

wc: 1.1k

“you’re coming home next week, right?” you asked hinata, smiling at him through the phone screen. he had been in brazil for close to two years now, and although you understood why he moved there, that didn’t make the distance easier. “it’ll be so nice to finally see you in person, shoyo. no more video calls, not for a long time.”

when you were met with silence from your boyfriend and you saw the guilty look on his face your stomach dropped. “shoyo?”

“just a couple more weeks. two months, that’s all,” hinata started, staring at you through the screen, “you understand, right baby? you know that this is a crazy opportunity.”

you sighed. yes, being able to uproot his life and move to brazil to focus on volleyball was a crazy opportunity, two years ago when it initially happened. now it just seemed so repetitive. hinata plans a date to finally move back home, he gets you excited and prepared for his return, and then he drops the bomb that he’s staying longer. 

at first you couldn’t blame him, knowing how excited he was to be there and to learn and become better. you were excited for him, too, because that’s what it means to be in love. but now as you stared at his ginger hair and tan skin through the phone, you weren’t sure it was worth it anymore.

“shoyo,” you start, “i don’t think i can wait another two months. it was fine the first few times you added an additional month or two to the trip. but now…” you trailed off, seeing the hurt on his face. “two years is a long time to be apart. i’m tired of waiting.”

“wait but- i already agreed, i can’t take it back. and two months isn’t that long.” hinata rambled, trying to justify it to the both of you it seemed. “you can’t let this be it, i’ll be home soon baby.”

“i can’t, hinata.” it felt like both of you froze up at the use of his last name, but it was necessary. “i can’t keep waiting forever. this isn’t good for either of us and you know it isn’t. you deserve to spend as much time in brazil as you want, and i deserve a boyfriends that’s…”

“there.” hinata finished your sentence, no longer looking at the camera. you were sure you caught sight of tears already filling his brown eyes. you felt guilty, of course you did. you knew he loved you and you loved him, but you weren’t built for this kind of distance. “i understand. i just…wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

you nodded, wishing things could be different as well. but things didn’t always work out the way you’d wanted them to. and this was one of those times, it seemed. “when you’re ready to come home, i’ll be ready to try again. but for now i think this is best.”

hinata stayed silent for several minutes, trying to find the right words to say. but what could he say? he realized he had destroyed the only thing outside volleyball that mattered to him. you had been there for him through everything, the only person that had been by his side longer was kageyama (and even then, it was only by a year). and now you were going to be gone. back in japan by yourself like you had been for the last two years, but it was real this time.

“right.” hinata wasn’t sure what else to say. he wanted to beg you to stay, to please just hold out a little longer. but it was unfair, wasn’t it? and he knew that. you knew that. it was just hard to come to terms with. “so. i guess this is goodbye?”

“for now,” you nod your head, “yes, this is goodbye.”

“i love you, y/n.”

the video call ends.

“ah, hang on a second. someone just rang my doorbell,” you adjust the phone in your hand as you walked to the front door. you were currently on the phone with one of your friends from high school, asking if she could help you move out soon. it had only been a week since you spoke to shoyo, so you hadn’t had time to move yet. but thankfully you got everything arranged so you'd be out soon.

looking through the peephole, you felt your breath catch in your throat at the person on the other side. “i’m gonna have to call you back later, yeah? okay, bye.” you hung the phone up and checked the peephole one more time, just to make sure you weren’t seeing things.

“shoyo?” your eyes were wide as you cracked open the door. you were almost sure that it was a figment of your imagination, how on earth could he be standing in front of you right now? according to him, he still had seven more weeks in brazil.

“y/n,” hinata smiled widely, shoulders relaxing as his eyes landed on you, “thank god you’re still here. i was worried you’d be gone by now.”

“shoyo what are you doing here? i thought you were going to be in brazil for another two months?” you opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside and helping him with a few of his bags. it took everything in you to not immediately take him into your arms, kiss him on his face and cry tears of joy.

“brazil was amazing. the best time of my life, and i wish i could stay forever,” hinata started, looking away from you for a second before meeting your eyes again, “but nothing in the world is worth losing you. i’d quit playing volleyball tomorrow if you asked me to.”

you almost laughed at him. “well, i’m never going to ask you to quit playing volleyball. it’s the most important thing in your life.”

“after you, of course.” he quickly corrected. the smile fell from him face as quickly as you had seen it form. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i had been unfair to you for almost two years. i can’t believe i ever considered staying there for a second longer. please forgive me. i don’t want to break up.”

tears welled in your eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “sho,” you sniffled, taking him into your arms the way you had immediately wanted to, “of course i forgive you. the fact that you’re here right now means more than anything.”

“oh thank god.” hinata laughed, “i was really worried you wouldn’t forgive me. not that i’d blame you if you didn’t, ‘cause what i did to you was really shitty.”

you rolled your eyes, pressing kisses all along his cheeks and jaw, “it was really shitty. but i’m not sure i could stay mad at anyone who flew across an ocean to ask for my forgiveness, y’know.”

“i’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.”

just a short little thing bc i've been thinking about hina lately <3 reblogs, comments, nd likes apprecaited! <3

[xan-izme]

Dubble life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 2

Part 1, Part 3

Summary: Reader struggles to get used to their new life in Gotham. Worrying constantly about her family in New York. A rise of tension rises between readers father figure Aaron and her real father Bruce.

After the dinner, you got yourself ready for bed. The old boombox player you had was playing soft music in the background.

You turned the lights off, slipped into bed and stared at absolutely nothing. Even with the soft music playing, you were just itching to break into your suit and jump from building to building. You were missing your life as Spider-Woman. You missed your aunt and uncles. You missed your cousin. He was literally your twin.

You practically bawled your eyes out while saying goodbye to him. Suddenly, your train of thought was broken when you heard a ringing sound. You sat you and grabbed your phone, for some reason, hoping that it was your mother calling, telling you she was going to be home late tonight.

It wasn't your mother, of course, it was Miles, your cousin. You happily accepted the call. "Miles! oh my God, I missed you!" You could hear the boy chuckle on the other side of the phone.

"We saw each other this morning."

You pout and groan "I know! but it feels like it's been days." You knew you were acting like a toddler, but don't you deserve to act like this? After the nights filled with crime, days filled with unwanted drama.

You and Miles stayed on the phone. Not much talking involved. Talking was too much to do, knowing that they couldn't say the usual 'See you tomorrow' or Miles reminding you to be safe on your little outings. You did end up crying at one point, which caused Miles to tear up, but you don't know that, and he would like to keep it that way.

The next few weeks went by in a blink of an eye, dinner most of the times ended up just being you and Alfred, which you understand, knowing Bruce is busy, and Damian doesn't really like you. Tim would join you for lunch at times. You soon found out Tim was a geek. Which made you talk and ramble off about your plans for the future. Besides from that, you were mostly alone in the house.

Now it was your first day of school, your uncle Aaron offered to drive you for your first day. You asked Bruce for permission first of course.

Bruce at first wanted to say no, but when he pondered about it. It would be good for you to be with someone you knew better to be with you on your first day.

But Bruce looked into Aron. The man was trouble, used to be involved in lots of bad people back in the day. Just to be safe, Bruce decided to tag along. This would also help Bruce get closer to you, get to know the real you.

Putting aside the formalities and the instant obedience you give him.

The doorbell rang, Alfred opened the door and see Aaron standing with a blank expression, one matching Alfreds. "Ah, Mister Davies. Lady Y/n is curently getting ready. Please follow me."

Without any words, Aaron follows Alfred to a room. Thats where he meets Bruce.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Davies." Bruce puts a smile on his face and extended his hand to greet. Aaron smiled a little and shook his hand

"Same here. And Aaron is fine."

The two men sat down and began to talk. It was normal, but only for a small amount of time. The tension in the room began to rise when Aaron's past was brought up.

". . . I admit. I went down the wrong path when I was younger. But I grew out of that mess. But if this is about Y/n, then I guaranty you she is nothing like me. She's a good girl."

"I know she is. I'm not suggesting anything Ill towards my daughter."

Aaron chuckled "Daughter? Don't take this personally. But she ain't your daughter. Not till she says so."

Before any real argument could be made, you came busting in the room. "Uncle Aaron!"

"Baby girl!" Aron at up and opened his arms for a hug.

You ran into the man's arms. Giggling as Aaron gave your head a kiss.

"Look at you. In your little uniform."

You smiled more and twirled around for Aaron to see the whole fit better. "You like it?"

"I love it."

The car ride was a little awkward, but at least it wasn't fully awkward.

Aaron gave you some money and a few good luck kisses and I love You's from Rio. You gave Bruce a hug goodbye.

It's been almost a month since Spider-woman was last seen. Tim did take an interest in this Spider-woman and was going to offer her to join the Young Justice League. You were just one person looking after New York all on your own, with no help. It was very impressive.

But now Spider-Woman was just nowhere to be seen. She has just gone MIA. Now the Prowler was taking care of the city. The media has gone crazy after the disappearance of Spider-woman.

'WHERE IS SPIDER-WOMAN?'

'SPIDER-WOMAN ON THE RUN?'

What did catch Tim's attention was the last time Spider-Woman was seen was the day Y/n's mother died. A lot of people were hurt that day Only one dead, which was your mother. Tim has come to a small theory that the death of your mother is connected to the disappearance of Spider-woman.

It's been a full week since you started school, the first day, teachers were really nice to you. They already knew about your mother, which had them pity you. And Bruce being your father made them extra nice. You already didn't like the kids. Seeing them as fake. Because they were. Those smiling faces, those empty words.

You knew them all too well. You do the same, fake knows fake, guess that's what you could call it. Damian was of course no help. Ignoring you as much as he could. Which you didn't actually care.

Why would you care for someone who clearly don't care for you? No need to waste any energy on him. You did take interest in a few clubs. You did need to pick one that you didn't have to attend all the time. One that didn't need too much of your attention. So, you picked the art club.

You saw how much kids were in there, with those number of kids, no one expects you to get to know them all, nor make friends with them all. There are also very talented kids in the club, and the art they do isn't your style, so you're not the best. Which was in a way, good to keep cover.

Right now, you were at the manor. Your uncle dropped off the extra books you left at his place. half of your room looked a section in a library. You knew there was a library in the manor. But they weren't your books. Even if Bruce insists that most of the things in the manor was also yours, that's not how you saw it.

The things you brought from New York was yours, the cloths, books, pictures. You just felt like a guest. Nothing else.

You were curently in your room, listening to a playlist Miles made for you. You were just finishing up your homework when you heard a knock on your door.

"Y/n? It's me, Bruce." The voice on the other side of the door spoke. "Come in!" You say, just loud enough for him to hear.

Bruce enters the room, when he sees you, a small smile graces his lips. You gave him an awkward smile as you wait for what he needed to tell you.

"My schedule is cleared out today. I was wondering if you wanted to go out shopping with me." Bruce was taking a look around your room. Looking at the items you kept on shelves, pictures. Trying to know what you would like, so he could buy something for you that was more of your style.

"And me!" Suddenly Dick popped out of the door with a bright smile on his face. "Nice room." Drick mumbled as he went near your bookshelf. Seeing what books, you were into.

"Ah. . . I would love to, sir- Bruce. But I don't got much on me." You had your own card, you had about 300 or 500 in. But you don't use it unless you're out and really need something to eat. On top of that, you kind of have a spending problem you need to control.

"No need to worry about that." Bruce pulled out his card "It's all on me."

You had no choice but to go with them. You sat in the back seat. Dick in the passenger seat while Bruce was driving. "How's school? make any friends?" Dick spoke up, turning down the volume of the radio. "Oh, it's alright. Me a few kids, they were pretty nice."

The car pulled up to a store. You walked in with the two men and started looking around. You saw plushies that looked really cute. "Can I get these?" You pointed at the plushies and looked up to Bruce for permision.

"Of course." Dick grabbed the plushies and you all started to get more things. Clothes, shoes. You were pretty satisfied with what you had. Bruce purchased what you had picked out, along with a few dresses Dick picked out for you.

Bruce was able to talk to you more. He knows that you like a lot of music genres, you seem to have a deep bond with your cousin Miles and your uncle Aaron. You speak highly of Miles, like he was a sun in the sky to praise.

Bruce was still hooked up on what Aaron had said. Bruce knows that he can't fix the sixteen years he missed in your life, but he wants to try and be there for you now. Try to break down that fake smile of yours.

What? You think he didn't notice.?

Bruce knows what pain looks like. And he can see it all over you. In your actions, your words. In your voice. Whatever makes you cry, whatever fears you have. Bruce will make them all go away. And he is determined to earn the title as your father. For you to finally call him by that title.

Because he's your father. And that's what fathers do.

[starlightsuffered]

Be Professional (Part Three)

Pairing - Timothée Chalamet/Fem!reader

Warnings - Smut, angst, hand job, overstimulation, oral (female receiving), dry humping, choking, biting, mean talk, hate sex, smelling panties, pinching, ass slapping

The idiot had been right. Once I'd gotten his cock, I was addicted. It turned into an unspoken agreement. If he was bugging me, I punished him with biting, scratching, and other things during sex. I nagged him to much, he was dragging me into a dark room to show me how my mouth could be put to better use. It was getting to the point that it was everyday. I was half worried about myself, and half lying to myself, so I could continue the behavior.

"Ah, ah, ah," Timothée was moaning in my ear as I pumped him relentlessly. He was so helpless as I gripped his cock.

"You close?" | asked with a smirk.

"Fuck," it was all he could say, and I felt pride swell in my chest.

"Honestly, you're so pathetic," I snarled. "So big, so strong, until I touch you. Admit it, you're weak for me." He shook his head, refusing my words. I rolled my eyes and increased my pace. I swiped my thumb over his head. He was soaked with precum. I was grinning viciously. If he wouldn't admit it, I had plans for him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cried as he spurted everywhere. His cum was flying out into his trailer. I relished it, imagining him on his knees cleaning up his own cum made me wet.

When he finished, I didn't stop stroking him. I heard him nearly whine as he tried to push away my hand. I didn't hear a safe word, so I continued to stimulate him.

"Stop!" His voice cracked.

"You know what to say if you really want me to stop," whispered in his ear. He secretly loved the pain. He would be overstimulated for not admitting he was weak for me.

"It huuurts," he cried.

"This is your punishment," said, licking my lips at the pink hue of his cock.

"You know I won't be able to get off until after our interviews are over, so you deserve the same discomfort," ! snapped. It was true, we'd only had time for him to get off. I would have to spend hours in wet discomfort.

"Please, please," he begged as I continued to work his cock. I gave him six more tugs and stopped.

"Clean up your cum," I growled, and turned to get out of his trailer.

I walked out into the sun. I raced to my trailer, knowing our Director would be calling us soon. It would look odd if I was in Timothée's trailer, since he was my nemesis after all.

As I walked onto the stage for the interview, Timothée caught my arm. He pulled me close enough that only ! would hear what he said.

"You're a terrible person, you know that? The director nearly caught me cleaning up what you made me do all over my trailer," he muttered. I bit my lip, arousal growing at the image.

"You deserved it," murmured back, before breaking out of his grip.

I was right about being in discomfort. Timothée pissed me off as the hours of interviews went by. Though, I was starting to get worried that I was annoyed because I secretly liked what he did. I could no longer tell if I felt disgust or fondness when he touched me during interviews. Today, he'd nuzzled his head against my shoulder.

Butterflies had erupted inside me and I couldn't tell if they were good or bad. It didn't help that he was extremely good looking. I wanted to be as effortlessly desirable as he was, but I knew he only did the things he did so he could get sex later.

I was exhausted from the day of interviews, and Timothée had not come to get me. I decided I'd try out the pool the hotel had. As I got on my bikini, my phone rang. It was my best girl friend from back home. She was happy she had gotten me. I'd been texting her about the whole Timothée situation, she was very interested.

"Yeah," I said to her as I opened my hotel door to leave.

"It's just too cazy to decipher, like it's far and away the best sex l've ever had, but he's so obnoxious it." I turned around to see Timothée, just coming out of his room. He was grinning from ear to ear. My stomach sunk, because it was obvious he'd heard what l'd just said.

"I have to go, something just came up," I said to my friend, and hung up. I felt frozen, I couldn't move.

"Best, you, ever, had?" He punctuated each word with a step.

"How do you know I was even talking about you," I said, looking away from him. He was now close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck.

He took my jaw in his hand, turning his face to mine. His eyes were glittering.

"Who else annoys you like I do? Who else could you be talking about?" He smirked.

"I am going to the pool," I said, changing the subject. He chuckled darkly.

"I can assure you, you are not going to the pool," he told me, and then he was pulling me into his room.

My head slammed against the door as he kissed me with ferocity. His hands were grabbing at my skin, and holding hard enough to bruise. I whined into his mouth, and bit his bottom lip. He lifted one of my legs, l lifted the other, until he was holding me up against the door. He moved so he was sucking on my neck.

"You know the rules," I said, pushing him off with difficulty. "No visible hickeys." He nodded, but looked frustrated. He carried me over to the bed. He flipped us so I was on top. I felt his hard length beneath me and stifled a moan. I ground down against him.

He folded his arms behind his head, watching me smugly.

"If I'm so obnoxious, why can't you get enough of my cock?" He demanded of me.

"I don't even like your stupid cock," I lied as I worked myself against him.

"Lies," he hissed as I rolled my hips. "You could come just like this couldn't you? I'm not even touching you."

I still my movements, my eyes hard as glass as I glared at him. He continued to smirk, but leaned up and licked my lips before taking one between his teeth and pulling. I did moan then, and I felt his cock twitch under me.

"Do it," he whispered. I shook my head, he grabbed my throat lightly as he kissed wetly all over my face. "Make yourself come on my clothed cock, and I'll give you all the orgasms you want."

I began to move slowly.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, still holding my neck. The name made me shiver. I couldn't tell if it made me feel good or bad.

I pushed him back harshly, his head hit the headboard slightly. His eyes were full of shock and intrigue as I ground down against his clothed length. It was so deliciously dirty that he could please me this way, without even touching me. He reached up and undid my bikini top. He pinched my nipples as he gyrated his hips slightly to help me along. I gasped, feeling my orgasm near. I lifted off him for a moment to undo my bikini bottom strings. The garment was soaked, and I threw it on Timothée's face as I continued to roll my hips against him. He moaned as he smelled my essence, but he threw it away to watch me.

"Fuck," I panted.

"You can do it," he egged me on. Encouragement from him always made me feel odd. I needed him to shut up, so I moved my hand to his neck. I pressed down, watching his eyes widen. It came over me like a wave, drenching me in gratification. I released his neck as I panted.

He wasted no time in flipping us. He was sucking on my breasts, marking the skin he knew people wouldn't be able to see. He took my peaked nipples in his mouth as he pinched my thighs, providing the pain he knew I loved. He was now licking up my stomach to my nipples, like I was his own personal ice cream cone. He bit down on my left nipple, and I arched into him as I groaned.

He moved down to my purple and blue thighs. He was addicted to marking me, but we'd made a rule about no visible skin being marked. He took his frustration out on my thighs. I secretly relished seeing them anytime I undressed, but l'd never admit it to him.

"I'm going to eat you alive," he swore, and I nodded eagerly. He was devouring me, and I was arching up into his wet mouth. I pulled hard on his hair, while his nails dug into my thighs. His mouth was relentless, as he ate me out. The swirl of his tongue made my knees weak. Soon, I was hitting my peak again. I called out his name and he gave me satisfied slap to the ass.

"Get up," he growled, hands roughly grabbing me by the wrists. He got me up and pushed my body against the hotel window. I was panting.

"Let's show the world what a slut you are," he said, as my breath fogged the window. He dragged his tip between my folds teasingly, gathering moisture.

"Get on with it you fucking asshole," | snapped. He chuckled as he finally pushed himself inside me. His thrusts had me slammed up against the glass. The cold made my sore nipples peak again. He began to fuck into me.

"Fuck, fuck," Timothée groaned behind me. It always made me melt when he moaned. The idea that I did to him, what he did to me, was tantalizing.

"Faster," I demanded and he obeyed. I clenched my walls around him, his reward for obeying.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck l'm gonna cum," He whimpered, and I moved fast. I was out of his grip.

"What the fuck?" Timothée asked, not having released yet.

"I did what you said," I told him. "You owe me all the orgasms I want."

"Okay, let me back inside you and I-"

"No, do it with your hands Chalamet," | ordered, he growled at the surname, but he knew he owed me.

He came towards me, and held up two fingers. Slowly, he lowered them to my heat, and then he entered me. He curled his fingers as he pumped them in and out of me.

"Just like that," said, pulling at his curls. It was my back pressed against the window now, as he fucked me with his fingers. However, l'd underestimated his sneaky nature. He waited for me to close my eyes with bliss before replacing his fingers with his cock, and slamming into me.

He was so hard, and he was going so fast that I couldn't get a word out to condemn him. He was gasping, as he plowed into me at an unbelievable speed. Unexpectedly, his finger went to my clit, rubbing fast. I was coming undone with a shout as his cum spilled into me.

"You disobeyed," I finally panted.

"Yeah, well, you know me. Unprofessional," he smirked.

I was collecting my bikini when he cleared his throat expectantly. He had his boxers back on, but nothing else. I put my bikini on before turning towards him.

"What?" | asked, and he actually looked a little nervous.

"I got something for you," he said. What could it be, lingerie, a sex toy, vibrating underwear?

It was nothing like those things. I stared in wonder as he pulled out a first edition of my favorite book.

"You mentioned it in an interview last week, I thought you might appreciate it," he said. I still had not taken the book from his hands. I was too shocked. My whole body felt weird, what did this mean?

"Also I wanted to ask if you'd like to go out for dinner tomorrow night, it's been a month since we started this thing up and-"

He stopped at my horrified expression. I backed away a couple steps. I felt like I couldn't breathe right.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"HI just thought that-"

"Don't finish that sentence. This, we, we are not a thing, we are just hate fucking," I said, trying to stop my hammering heart.

"Really?" Timothée asked. "You still hate me? What about what you said in the hall?"

"Did you not hear the other part? I said you were obnoxious," I said desperately.

"I thought that was just a game. I knew I bugged you at first, but I thought-"

"You thought what Timothée?" I asked. "That we were together?"

"No," he said, not meeting my eyes. "But I had hoped maybe the sex was a first step to.... Other things."

"You barely know me Timothée," I tried to explain.

"Oh yeah, I barely know you," he scoffed. "I just took my whole weekend to track down a first edition of your favorite book, but I barely know you."

"You heard that in an interview. You don't truly know me."

"Well holy fuck then y/n," he said in exasperation, tossing the book onto the bed. "Let me!"

"No," I said in a whisper.

"So you'll let me cum inside you, but you won't let me get to know you?"

"Look, I don't know what you thought this was," I said sharply. "But you are wrong. Don't come looking for me Chalamet."

I stormed out of his room and went to mine. I wasn't going to risk the pool when he could easily go there too. I locked the door behind me and sank to the floor. Tears welled in my eyes. Why did he have to ruin everything?

[yourlocaltreesimp]

I (beg) ask if you can write anything Fierce Deity related. I don't want anything else, just that you write for my boy. (Pls us FD simps are starving).

Ah believe me I know y’all are dehydrated beyond the word’s meaning. I know the struggle (I really do) So I hope I do your boy (man) ((celestial being?)) justice!

(fir post writing: wow this is a LOT of context y’all don’t want or need, but my hands hurt so… part 2?)

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Immortality is a lonely existence. There are few beings that obtain an average life expectancy to that of a god. There are even fewer again who have immortality. Proper immortality. Not the poor results of a fae deal or some curse to age and wither without death. No. Proper immortality, exempt of aging past maturity and death herself.

That made his current predicament worse. Much, much worse than being stuck in a wooden mask.

You see, Gods and the immortal beings alike are rather fickle beings. They do glorious things to entertain or punish the mortals to have their names etched into stone and uttered in myth through centuries. They only wish to exist in temples of incense and candlelight, where the people there would do anything for even the cast of an eye.

Fierce had always thought those gods were the worst. All temples would crack. All names would be forgotten. All clay tablets and pots would be broken, ironically even by their proclaimed heroes. But that’s getting ahead of us. He was worshipped only in the grounds he was made for. It didn’t matter the land, for blood soaks into soil the same no matter what. It didn’t matter the men, the corpses were plentiful and he hardly discriminates. It didn’t even matter who won, because there are no winners in war.

He was made to fight, and he was made to kill. And so he did. His name rang throughout time between soldiers and emperors alike. Both tried to gain his favour. Occasionally there would be a temple, occasionally there’d be some mortal claiming to bear his blood, occasionally he’d care.

Regardless, it all came to the same ending. The men would die, the temples would crack and his name would fade into obscurity again.

It was supposed to.

But it seemed the others didn’t like that he was beating them at a game he didn’t want to win.

‘Cruel’ they called him, ‘Violent’ ‘Inhumane’ ‘Rabid’ ‘Irate’ ‘Improper’

And so, they condemned him. And he was forever no more.

Eras passed.

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years… And truly, he was nothing.

Just as they promised.

Some relic like their old tales, except he could not crack and wither.

He was lonely, perhaps just as much as before in hindsight. The fickle attention he did have was only worth something if he willed it.

At some point, He was awoken again. There were hands on his cheeks, shaky and blood covered. And there was light. The person who had called upon his spirit was not in good shape, blood spilling from their weak body as they were chased by odd looking men. A pack of wolves set on a lamb.

He’d learn throughout the next few months of hiding you and sharing your consciousness that the people of your village had thought you to be a witch. As such, you were beaten and chased.

You were a doctor, you’d told him.

You’d just tried to cure someone.

And such began his problem.

He’d never saw the purpose of mortals. They were future bodies, to him. They’d live to die. Sure, it’s better than the alternative of there only being gods, but they never held much worth to him.

Not until you.

You are good. In every way the short comings of language can express you are good. You’d devoted your life to a thankless existence and the nature of living had caught up to you. Good things didn’t deserve that. Good people didn’t deserve to live the life you led.

He was not so cruel as to condemn you to that fate.

And so, he began to help. Once gaining a physical form, (through much trial and error) He’d do the work you couldn’t manage. Hunting, building, sewing, cooking, he’d do as much as possible. He knew what it was like to be turned back upon by everyone. But you wouldn’t be able to grow past that. Not in your short life.

He held you as you shuddered and cried. He tended to your wounds and sickness. He did and would do whatever it took to see you happy again.

He did not, however, see the consequences.

It took him far too long for his comfort to realise that you were not simply accompaniment. You consumed his waking thoughts and filled his dreams. He lived around you, your wants and your needs. He began to eat because it made you comfortable, He slept because you liked to be near him, He humanised himself because it made you happy.

He would’ve renounced his title as a god to make your life perfect, or as close to as it could be.

But He could not.

He could not simply marry you and go about your lives knowing you had one another. He could not have you to hold forever. He could not always love you in sickness and health no matter how much he tried. Because at the end of the day, it’s until death do you part.

Or… do you?

(part 2? perhaps? maybe? perchance?)

[midmourn]

enough for you

title enough for you

pairing mark lee x gender neutral!reader

summary you wanted to be enough for mark, but no matter what you did, you weren't.

warnings angst

word count 1,669

author's note I'M SO SORRYYYY it kills me to write the boys like this pls. as usual, let me know what you think bc it encourages me to continue writing!! reposting from my old blog

"Mark!" You surprised him, showing up at his side as he was busy on his phone, his locker open in front of him. He jumped in surprise, turning his eyes to look wide-eyed at you, and you giggled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you like that."

"It's fine," Mark dismissed, turning back to his phone without another word and you swallowed, refraining from frowning. Glancing around, you saw no one else was close enough to hear the two of you talk or were rather busy with their own conversations.

"Um," you spoke up, bringing his attention back to you half-heartedly, "I did my makeup earlier, do— do you like it?"

Mark's eyes roamed your face, mouth forming into a 'O' as you fought to keep a blush off your face, "Ah, sorry, Y/N, I'm— I'm not really good at compliments."

"Oh," you forced a giggle, blinking at him, "That's fine!" When he didn't say anything else, only grabbing a textbook from his locker and shutting it, you swallowed. Your heart felt heavy in your chest. He could've at least tried. "Um, what class do you have next?"

"Psych," he murmured, "It's on the other side of the building, so I'll see you later. Bye, Y/N." He didn't raise his head from his phone as he walked away, either ignoring or not hearing your calls for him.

"Mark!" You sighed, lowering your head, "My class is right next to Psych, too ..."

"Mark! I got you coffee," you beamed at him, holding out the Starbucks cup for him and his eyebrows rose in surprise, head tilting to the side as he shut his locker.

"Oh? Is it—"

"Americano!" You cut him off, still smiling as he made a noise of surprise and took the coffee from your hands, taking a sip of the drink.

"Oh, thanks, Y/N," he smiled briefly at you before turning around and walking away. Your face dropped, brows furrowing as you watched him walk away from you and up the stairs, clapping one of his friends on the shoulder as they joined him.

"Your boyfriend's an asshole," Yeri crossed her arms over her chest as she showed up by your side, making you jump in surprise.

"Damn, Yeri, sneak up on me, why don't you?" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back on the lockers. "I don't— I just don't understand. He wasn't like this before and then as soon as we started actually dating, he did this!"

"He's an asshole," she shrugged, "Simple as that. Drop his ass."

"I can't do that!" You looked at her with wide eyes, "I did so much just to get his attention, like— like reading those damn self-help books just so I could know what the hell he was talking about. If I broke up with him, it'd be over nothing!"

"Mark Lee doesn't deserve your attention," Yeri put her hands on your shoulders, looking you dead in the eye. "OK? There are so much better people out there for you, Y/N Y/L/N. They will deserve your attention because they'll love you for you."

You frowned at her, "I want that to be Mark Lee, though."

Yeri sighed, stepping back, "I know. But— seriously, think about it and don't just shrug it off like you've been doing. I've got to get to class, see you." With a wave, the two of you part and you frown to yourself as you stare down at the tiles of the floor. Was Yeri right? But you had done so much just for Mark to even notice you, and he was so sweet before you two officially got together— what if he was just going through something and didn't know how to tell you?

You shake your head as the bell rang, you wouldn't break up with him. You'd just have to try harder.

Yet even as you tried harder, wearing the brightest, outstanding makeup you could, getting him his coffee in the morning despite the long lines at Starbucks in the morning, sending him lyrics of his favorite songs, or even just trying to contribute to his rambles about his studies— Nothing happened. No kiss, no compliments, no hug, no holding hands, and most importantly— not telling you what was going on!

When he wasn't rambling on about his classes, he was busy on his phone— assumingly texting someone but you never asked, knowing it could've possibly been a family member or just as important. You'd sit by his side at the library as he studied, keeping quiet besides when he'd get frustrated and you'd whisper kind encouragements. You weren't sure if they worked, though, because sometimes, he'd end up collecting his stuff and walking out of the library.

Sighing, you fell back onto your bed with your phone in your hands, Instagram pulled up. Going to the search bar, you hesitated for one second before typing familiar names. The first one was Kang Mina, one of Mark's ex-girlfriends from last year. She was a cheerleader, and quite pretty. You didn't know what they broke up for, but you knew she was his first girlfriend— probably his first everything, too. A frown was placed on your lips as you went to the next girl, Song Hayoung. Hayoung was in the year above the two of you, but you also knew Mark tried really hard to get her attention, for her to even look his way— just like you did ...

At the realization, you hummed before placing your phone facedown on your bed. You tried to remember what else you could remember about their relationship, but you couldn't. Not like you had any time to, either, because your phone started ringing. You flipped it over to see that Mark was calling you and your face brightened up, forcing yourself into a sitting position.

You breathed in and out, "It's OK, just a call." You exhaled one more time before accepting his call, bringing the phone up to your ear and trying your best not to sound so excited, "Hello?" You winced, hearing the high pitched voice on your end.

"Y/N, hey," Mark mumbled and you frowned, hearing the tone in his voice but before you could say anything else, he rushed out, "I want to break up."

The call was silent on both ends for a few seconds. Your heart immediately dropped to your stomach when he said that, your fist clenching around a plushie you had on your bed for comfort as you stared unseeingly at your wall. His voice sounded hesitant when he said your name again, "Y/N?"

"Why?" You swallowed, thankful your voice didn't break with that one word. Not that it mattered, your eyes were already filling with tears, and you were sure it'd be heard the next time you spoke. The first tear fell, and then the others followed in suit.

Mark cleared his throat, "I just— it's not you, really, but I just don't think we're right for each other, you know?" You didn't say anything and he sighed, "I'm really sorry, Y/N. Maybe we can still be—" You didn't let him finish, ending the call abruptly before the first sob ripped through your throat. You hunched over your plushie, holding it to your chest as you started crying louder. Your chest ached with each cry that came out of your mouth, feeling as if someone was holding your heart in their hand and slowly crushing it.

"Y/N?" Your mom didn't even knock, opening the door to your room. You couldn't see her, but from the silence on her end, you knew she was trying to register what she was seeing. "Oh, baby." The simple word had another sob leaving your mouth and a second later, the other side of your bed dipped as she pulled you into her body. Her hand immediately started smoothing out your hair in comfort, "It's alright, it's OK."

"No, it's not!" You hiccuped, feeling more tears escape your eyes as you shook your head, "Mark— Mark ..."

You didn't have to finish your sentence for her to know what was going on, already knowing what you had been doing the past few weeks for the stupid boy. She merely clenched her jaw and started whispering comforting things to you, pulling you more into her chest. It took a few minutes to get you to calm down, but all she had to mention was throwing up and you tried your best to calm yourself down. If there was anything you hated, it was throwing up.

"There," she sighed, pressing a kiss to your head as she wiped your tears away with her sleeve. "Now ... Mark, he broke up with you?" Your bottom lip trembled before you nodded, pressing the side of your head into her shoulder. "Oh, baby ..." She sighed again, "There's always going to be someone better out there for you."

"I know," you mumbled, voice cracking as you recognized the same words Yeri said to you a few days ago, "I just wanted it to be him."

"We all have those people," she frowned, pressing another kiss to your head.

"I should've seen it coming, mom," you sighed, feeling a tear slip from your eye that she immediately wiped away for you, "As soon as we got together, he wasn't the same. It's like— like no matter what I did, I wouldn't be enough for him. And I tried so hard."

"I know you did, baby," she rested her cheek against the top of your head, feeling her own anger rise in her chest for how heartbroken you sounded. "One day, you'll be everything to someone else. They'll love you for you, and you won't have to try so hard to be enough, because just being you will be enough."

"Are you sure?" You mumble into her shoulder.

"You might not see it now, but you will," she rubbed your side. "You'll be enough for them."

sour masterlist. main masterlist.

[gallusrostromegalus]

so if Yachiru Kusajishi is older than Shinji and still looks like a small child, while Tetsuzaimon Iba grew up from in utero to a full adult while the Vizoreds were in the living world, what determines the rate of maturation for a particular soul in AEIWAM?

Short Version: Hell is Clogged, and the Demons are desperately trying to keep powerful souls OUT until there is room for them, AND trying to yank powerful souls in ASAP when an opening becomes available, and this makes Powerful Souls age funny.

Slightly more complex version:

So in AEIWAM, the Exit from Hell is currently being blocked by God's Dismembered Ass.

This means that there is an ENORMOUS Queue of Perfectly Reformed Souls trying to get out, and there *is* a constant steady trickle of souls out of Hell, but Nowhere near enough, and worse, once a soul is reformed, it doesn't give off spiritual energy to feed the Life Machine anymore.

So Hell is in the VERY Precarious Position where they NEED powerful souls to enter Hell so they can off-gas spiritual power to keep the machine that generates reality going, but if they get too many too strong souls too fast, they risk blowing a hole in the side of the hell dimension and, ah.

Well, All Hell breaking Loose.

So the demons in Hell are constantly making complex calculations about who actually get to enter- Souls that have good Karma, even if they're powerful are typically booted to the Spirit World until there's an opening (like a former captain finally returning to baseline power and reincarnating), and Souls with Bad Karma but not much spiritual power can get sent to the afterlife they don't actually deserve because they're so far back in the triage. At the same time, they're constantly giving extra life force, get-out-of-death-free cards and other chicanery to exceptionally powerful souls to keep them "alive" until there's room.

...And also yanking them down the SECOND there's an opening to fill because they absolutely cannot let the Life Machine's battery get any lower.

This power-scramble is responsible for a lot of Bizarre Aging and Dying Phenomena:

Tetsuzaimon Iba was born, aged at a normal human rate until his 26th birthday and then just. Stopped. This happened to his mother too. She's been 29 for 342 years now. That's not the only form of Delayed Aging that hits Spiritually powerful people: Some people just age at a slow but consistent rate- 1 year for every 5 lived is pretty common for rank-and-file shinigami. Yamamoto had gone through several slowdowns- as a young man he was aging 1-for-10, but once he founded Soul Society it slowed to 1-for-25 and ever since The Divorce he seems to have stopped aging at 'A Ridiculously Ripped 80-something'.

Hisana Kuchiki was struck down with Sudden Incurable Wasting when one of the smaller power slots opened up and a Demon tried to pull her in with a quick accident and accidentally caused her to *linger*. The Demon is PROFOUNDLY sorry, takes very good care of Hisana down there, and lives in terror of the day Byakuya gets down there and kicks it's ass.

Demons are not actually malicious, though they can be really unpleasant. Demons are essentially the Social Workers of the Wheel of Samsara, helping damaged or dangerous souls become better people before they reincarnate. The relationship between the average soul in Hell and their assigned demon ranges approximately from 'your benevolent and genuinely helpful therapist' to 'your overworked and jaded parole officer'.

The exception is for souls with good karma that are there to vent power- A Demon assigned to one of those cases is essentially the Soul's Personal Assistant/babysitter to make sure the soul doesn't break anything down there. "Shinigami Supervisor" is a DEEPLY coveted position in hell- You get all the spiritual sustenance you can handle, very little paperwork, AND you get to have fun adventures with a cool person who (largely) has their shit together! So the competition for the Next Opening is ferocious. Shinigami scientists have noted that there is often an uptick in seismic activity, the appearance of hot springs, and unusually hot weather all over the living and spirit worlds in the month leading up to the death of a Captain or other powerful soul, but aren't sure why. The reason is Demon Job Promotion Thunderdome, held in the time leading up to the 'retirement' of a captain or other powerful soul as they finish giving off all the power they can to the Life Machine and enter the reincarnation queue.

The utterly crackheaded "returned to life" science used to bring back Rose, Kensei and Matsumoto during TYBW only worked because a pack of Demons on the other side were MAKING it work.

Mayuri is actually an escapee from Hell that WAS aging drastically fast (he looked 32 when he was 14) because the demons were trying to reign him back in, but he learned just enough about life-force management from his internment in Hell to keep himself alive(ish) and Hale (Kinda).

Most of the souls in Soul Society age normally, and the indicator that you DO have spiritual power is that you 1. Age slower than anticipated and 2. feel EXTREME levels of hunger. (Frankly, nothing about 'souls don't feel hunger' makes sense. It'd be a post-scarity society if that was the case, not feudalism. Nearly all Souls in AEIWAM feel hunger a normal amount, but those who would make good shinigami feel 'I will eat drywall or carrion to stop the cravings' levels of hunger).

One of the things that happens before you become a seated officer in the Gotei-13 is that your captain is supposed to take you aside and explain that the reason an officer's commission pays so well and takes care of so much is that if you take it, you are at DRASTICALLY higher risk of going to Hell when you die. If you become a Lieutenant, it's all but guaranteed. It's not the office that grants it per se- but one you're a seated officer, you WILL be exposed to situations that will make you grow as a person and become a stronger fighter and thus, a more powerful spirit. maybe you'll squeak under the power limbo bar, but understand that that's a risk.

The reason Shinigami can't assign people to at least the same district their relatives are in is that assignment is done by Hell- it's determined by "area of lowest ambient spiritual power in spirit world at the EXACT time you die" and you HAVE to go there. It does help alleviate the pressure in Hell by a significant amount, and if you move districts after arriving in your assigned one it doesn't cause a problem. It's only recently that Soul Security Numbers have been introduced, and your ancestors can opt to put in their address if you want to look them up when you cross over.

Yachiru however, is an unusual case. She's one of the slowest-aging people in Soul Society (aging approximately 1 year for every 50 lived), but it's not the contrivance of Hell. There's actually a lot of Wailing and Gnashing of teeth about Yachiru in Hell, because she's actually got a case of Secondhand Deification from her father, and frankly, Hell doesn't know what it's going to do with either of them.

[creatingblackcharacters]

also, if you don’t mind multiple submissions:

two other favorite Black characters of mine are Claudia and Louis from interview with the vampire (the show version)

(why did the photos crop so weirdly. if you click on them you should be able to see the full pictures lol) Bailey Bass and Delainey Hayles are both excellent as Claudia, and Claudia herself is a very interesting and tragic character. her anger at her situation and the people responsible for it is a hundred percent justified, and portrayed as such in the show. and she’s also one of, if not the most, sympathetic characters in interview with the vampire. she wants someone to choose her first for once in her life. she also has some of my favorite costumes in the whole show.

Louis! god I love him. I hope he gets a nice vacation or something in season 3. all of the actors, but especially Jacob Anderson, are so good at portraying the wide emotional range of the show. sad, funny, angry, soft, nostalgic, tragic, violent, romantic… all the characters are so delightfully complicated and messed up. including Louis! but at the same time, I can’t help but be on his side. his story about both enabling and escaping cycles of abuse is so well done, and very emotional.

also, a quote from Jacob Anderson on playing Louis: “I feel very proud to be a Black Creole vampire, in the show. I mean, I hope that all it does is opens the gates for more. Let’s tell more stories. Let’s be monsters! And enjoy it! Yeah, let’s be problematic. Give us the space to be a problem.”

Finally, somebody who actually said Louis! I will say, I do think it's interesting how the difference in how fandom treats these two exposes part of the very antiblackness that the show attempted to talk about. I wish more people actually like... Understood it. Claudia's not just "scary girl power" and "never did anything wrong". Louis isn't either 1) the Black lying monster that mistreated their white fave and their Token Black Girl Character or 2) again, "never did anything wrong". Understanding the racial context behind the storytelling makes it that much better. I cannot fathom what everyone was watching, if they did not see it.

And Jacob is right! Louis was such a complex character, and that was worth talking about! We deserve to have characters that cause that sort of discomfort, that take up that kind of space- and be valued for it! But people were so busy being some of the most overt racist shits ever to be worth having that conversation with 🤣 truly one of the worst fandoms I've ever attempted. Sorry to vent. Just don't get how you could have a show with two of the MCs being Black and somehow just... Not get it. So yes, every time someone likes Louis, I have faith that ah, okay, maybe some people walked away with some understanding of the assignment.

Hot Chocolate: That blonde boy that all those people love? Lestat de león whatever? Fuck that guy. Wholeheartedly

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Rumor Has It

Author's note: More of Imhoden in Husbandry

Summary: Imhoden sulks at Janus for an unfair punishment he got when he squabbled with some renegade Space Wolves.

Warning: None? Let me know if I need to add anything. 

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

One of the things that Imohoden had been warned about - was Chaos, with a capital C, at least on Ancient Terra. Slowly he’d been told about the Fall of the Legions, at least half of them. How the fighting had spread to becoming a full fledged civil war.

It had been surprising, yet not entirely so- that things had exploded so spectacularly, especially with hindsight-and with what his brothers, those who had survived The Deal and The Dusting (whatever the fuck that is) how things had been driven to that path.

Some of his brothers encouraged him to Join Chaos, others informed him that it was better to not doom and damn himself with such a thing. The Bonds- and how they affected things is terribly fascinating and he’s on one of the many research teams, as well as being Bonded himself, it helps with assessing how things are going and what, carefully, gently, the limits of certain kinds of Bonds are.

Imhoden is working on some paperwork, which ugh, is so fucking boring, yet is also incredibly important. He’d rather be researching and writing about interesting things. Not this sort of petty grox-shite.

He doesn’t realize how fierce his scowl is until he hears a familiar- yet not voice call out to him. “Oh dear- someone’s sour. What’s wrong Odie?”

Imhoden turns to look over and up at Janus, the sharp and angry features on his face lightening and brightening up when he recognizes Janus. His brother has changed- so Much, has lived so long, but there are still some recognizable parts of his brother’s soul and magic that makes it easier for him to recognize him.

His brother has been heavily twisted and mutated by the Chaos Deity of Change, trickery, and schemes. Janus is very bird-like in his movements and habits, as well as in looks. He’s got a flexible (disturbingly) flexible beak and has some feathers that twirl in dizzying patterns along his armor.

“I’m being punished with menial paperwork,” Imhoden complains dramatically.

“Why do you say that brother?” Janus asks, tilting his head, and with a teasing chuckle that sounds like a bird song, “And what did you do to deserve punishment.”

“Those fucking barbarian wolves deserved it,” Imhoden spat out, angrily, “Those fucking Space Wolf renegades were howling and jabbering about. Demanding help with one of their Number suddenly getting a bonded, but they didn’t know if it was one of three humans they semi-kidnapped.”

“Space wolves are barbarian bastards, yes,” Janus agrees with a whistle his hands, which have bird-like talons flex.

“I was, unfortunately,” Imhoden says unhappily, “The poor Psyker within grabbing range to assess them.”

“And?” Janus prompted gamely.

“The fuckers too offense to the fact that I’m a Son of Magnus,” Imhoden said, “And we got into a bit of a fight- the fuckers had me out numbered.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Janus says sympathetically as he eyes his brother for injuries- Space wolves could fight very dirty at times.

“The fight was stopped by Apothecary Hura,” Imhoden says with a grimace and a shudder. He’d met that particularly… twisted Chaos Space Marine before.

“Ah- and as punishment he sent you to do paperwork,” Janus says with a nod, “yes- Apothecary Hura is… Intimidating, and clever.”

“It was that or apologize to the Space Wolves,” Imhoden says, “And I was not going to apologize to those fuckers.”

“Hura’s great at picking horrible punishments that stick with a person.” Janus says with a grimace, “without going too far, so you can’t complain to the Base Commander for a different sentence. Especially since they could make you do some even worse grox-shit.”

“Yes!” Imhoden says, throwing his hands up in the air as he leans back in the chair.

“At least, it’s not worse.” Janus points out.

“... Yeah.” Imhoden says, “I think they pissed Apothecary Hura or his puppy of a not-apprentice Cedric though.”

“Why do you think that?” Janus asks.

“Hura inflicted a harsher punishment on them than he did for me.” Imhoden says smugly, “Or they are known Trouble Makers who get worse punishments from the get-go. Serves them right, either way.”

[love-is-dean]

So everyone survives and gets another chance and it's only my baby fox who's not coming back? 😤

Isn't it unfair just how everyone gets to live and it's only Rang who has to die a tragic death? Lee Rang, the guy who never really got to be happy in his 600years of sad and lonely life? Even Moo Young after all the horror he brought upon the world is saved by Yeon and gets a second chance but when it's about Rang he's just supposed to die lonely with no one there for him, no one to sacrifice for him, no one trying to bring him back when it was actually him who sacrificed himself for Yeon and gave the couple a happy life that wasn't really theirs! They never meant to be together! It was their destiny to always have one of them dead if they got together! it was only Rang's sacrifice that changed it for them and yet he's the only one whose destiny isn't gonna change? The only one who's not going to be saved? The only one who's going to die for everyone else's happy ending? How is it even fair? He's the one who protected Yeon and the only one Yeon failed at protecting. Like everyone survives and gets a happy ending w/o even paying for their actions and it's only my beloved fox child who's not going to have a happy ending when he deserves happiness the most? Yeon always remember that Rang was your only brother who died for you and the only one you couldn't save...💔

This will always be a sad ending no matter what happens in parallel timelines and how happy everyone is there. The world in original timeline is a world without my baby half fox. It's still a world that Lee Rang left home on a snowy day and never came back. In original timeline the half fox will never come back home to his found family and no one is going to change his sad fate and bring him back.

This is just a sad ending to the sad story of a half gumiho who never got to be happy...💔

[sugar-omi]

I thought today's post would be pretty short n it turned out long.. just like yesterday.... I am so feral

DAY SIX — CROSS DRESSING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, gn + dom reader, reader is a streamer, you use a dildo & flesh light on cove, sorry you don't get to fuck him today. TMRW THO!!! be excited bc ik i am...

synopsis : cove tries on a skirt because of what you said on stream. you both like way more than you thought you would.

"i can't believe you went behind my back for something like this…"

cove squirms in your lap, embarrassed with all the attention on him. "i just.. i wanted to surprise you…"

you take his face in your hands, making him look at you. fuck he's so cute with those wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

"i'm very surprised.. i can't even remember when i said that on stream, yet here you are.." you trail your hand up his thigh. "in a skirt. just because i said i'd like it."

cove flushes and leans in to steal a kiss.

you indulge him, letting him lose himself in your lips, slipping your tongue into his mouth and enjoying how he moans lowly.

you slip your hand further up his thigh until you're edging the seam of his boxers, climbing up until your reach his bulge.

he gasps, breaking the kiss. "ah- what are you- oh fuck!"

you grin at his range of emotions in such a short time, pulling out his cock to give it well deserved attention.

"you look so pretty…" you praise, mesmerized with how good your boyfriends dick looks while in a skirt.

cove looks down, his fingers tightly holding onto your shoulders while you stroke his cock.

"don't you think so, covey? ah, you're getting it messy already.." you pout, his pre getting on the underside of the skirt.

you hum and usher your boyfriend off your lap and onto the bed.

"what.. what are you doing?" cove asks, anxious about what you're going to produce from your shared toy box.

you come back with your winnings, dropping them on the bed.

"you don't mind if i play with you a bit, right baby?"

cove swallows, shaking his head.

"good. let's start with this first…" you grab the lube and a condom, spreading the liquid over your fingers before lining it up with your boyfriends hole.

cove groans, fisting the sheets.

you curl your digits against his walls, eliciting a loud moan. you must've hit a good spot.

you slowly spread him open with your fingers, purposefully curling them against his gummy walls.

cove is shaking, his toes curling and he starts grinding back. "i'm gonna.."

you pull your fingers out, your boyfriend whining at the loss. "don't worry, i'm about to give you something better.."

cove watches, swallowing, as you prepare the dildo.

it's his favorite, with a nice curve and a thick vein going up the underside of the shaft.

you hold his legs open, lining up the toy with his puffy rim and easing in the fat tip of the toy,

cove moans loudly at the intrusion, easily taking half the toy.

"you look so pretty.." you praise, stroking cove's cock.

you're making an even bigger mess of his skirt, his cock dripping pre all over the pelts.

"i'm gonna put the rest in." the toy gets fatter at the base, beautifully stretching cove open and drawing out a loud whine when it bumps against his prostate.

cove calls your name weakly, clinging onto the pillows.

you lean up to kiss him, distracting him by slipping your tongue into his mouth as you slowly start thrusting the toy in and out of his ass.

"ahh!" he moans, his legs shaking and you have to force his legs back open when he tries to close them.

"don't close your legs, baby. c'mere, look at how pretty you look getting your ass fucked."

cove whimpers at the dirty talk, his dick twitching in response, and he looks down to see you fucking him with the toy.

"y/n…" he breathily calls out, twisting to hide his face in the pillow.

you nip at his inner thighs, sucking beautiful red hickeys into his bronzed skin. a little treat for both of your eyes later.

remembering you still have one toy left, you abandon his quivering thighs, much to his relief, and you reach for the flesh light.

while your boyfriend is distracted, you line the toy up with his dick, spearing the toy open with his weeping cock.

he yells, his face falling from out it's hiding spot in the pillows and he looks down, seeing you easily fucking him with the you and still bullying his insides with the dildo.

"ah, there's your beautiful face." you coo, smiling at how he looks at you with watery eyes. "aw, don't fret. doesn't it feel good? here, fuck yourself with the flesh light, you can't make me do all the work."

he shakily takes ahold of the toy, slowly dragging it up and down his cock with a furious blush.

"you can do better than that, can't you? you wanted to surprise me, so why don't you give me a show."

cove licks his lips, panting. but he obeys, fucking the toy faster and moaning loudly, his hips bucking.

the dildo brushes against his g-spot again, making him tremble at the double stimulation.

"y/n!" he fumbles for your hand, and you coo, uttering praises to you boyfriend, telling him how pretty he is and how good he's doing for you.

"i'm.. i'm gonna cum.." he pants, arching his hips up to fuck into the fake pussy, his eyes rolling back when you slam the dildo into him, the base stretching him open pleasantly.

"good boy. go ahead and cum for me." you egg him on, coming up to suck and bite on his chest, using your free hand to tweek his pierced nipple.

he groans, his hips stuttering and he calls your name, his back arching and forcing the dildo deeper, subconsciously holding the flesh light down as he cums deep inside it..

you let go of his sensitive chest to kiss him, your lips softly and mindlessly moving together.

suddenly an alarm goes off, the signature tone being the one you use to notify you of your stream.

"oh." you pull back. you completely forgot you had a stream right after you got home…

cove looks at you with hooded eyes, his lips swollen from biting them.

"y'know what.. i want you to keep this in." you tap the base of the dildo, making cove jump. "and if you don't cum or fuck yourself without my permission, i'll fuck you."

cove pouts, "but…"

you tut, "no buts, i want to enjoy you to the fullest, but this is a sponsored stream. so just be a good boy, and i'll take care of you…"

you kiss away his pouting face, and when you pull back he nods obediently.

"good boy.." you reach for the flesh light and drag it off his half hard cock, enjoying the shaky whine that comes from his lips.

the fake cunt slowly drips cum from its entrance, dripping on his skirt.

you put it to the side, leaving it for cove to pick up, and take his boxers off the end of the bed and help him tug them back up his legs.

once he's all set and ready to go. well, as much as he can be with a dildo in his ass and shaky legs.

you smack his butt, enjoying the loud yelp and scandalized look he throws you over his shoulder.

"you have to be quiet while i stream. if you do fuck yourself with or without my premission, and you get loud," you whisper in his ear. "everyone in my stream will hear you… so be good, okay?"

he nods, his smile wobbly and his cheeks flushed.

you doubt he's going to keep his composure, but worse comes to worse, you'll just have to take a "water break" during stream…

[im-out-of-it]

HAPPY ALEC RANT: MAINLY SHOW ALEC (KINDA BOOK ALEC) BUT HOW HAS MY BOY NOT HAD A MILLION MENTAL BREAKDOWNS?????? CHEERS TO MY MAN ALEC FOR KEEPING HIS SHIT TOGETHER

seriously alec puts up with sooooo much shit. he’s always saving jaces worthless ass, Maryse and Robert are always on him for “family honor”, jace is always yelling at him when clary goes missing as if he can be held responsible for her, and poor soul is just so unhappy

book Alec: not going to mention the writing because it’s so atrocious and ah shit, I already did!!!! seriously, Alec gets treated badly by jace mostly all throughout the series. Alec constantly has to save his life in every book. he’s made to feel that he needs to come out. even Magnus (WHY MAGNUS) is pushing Alec to come out and coming after A TEENAGE ALEC. I feel like Alec is simply not happy basically throughout the whole TMI series. he’s made to be biphobic, acting as though Magnus can’t have a past, tries to make Magnus mortal (ALEC WOULD NEVER), and dude can’t even be his own person without thinking of jace. he’s so badly written and cc has damaged his character so much. I genuinely hope in my world, he’s more like show Alec and living his best and carefree healthy life with Magnus 🥰

show Alec: MY FAVVVVVVVVV!!!!!! his parents are on him for saving the family honor and reputation (because of fucking clary ew), then Maryse gets mad after Alec finally chooses for himself, jace is always using him and expecting Alec to drop everything and save him, clary does the same and doesn’t care about the rules just what she wants. Lydia was such a small character and I know some don’t like her but at least she was nice towards Alec.

honestly in majority of the first season, everyone is yelling or getting shitty with Alec. I’m sorry but this man is so reasonable and lenient. he has let a ton of shit fly!!!! if I was in charge of the institute, I would’ve shipped clarys annoying ass off somewhere else. sorry but not my problem 💀 and the way jace treats Alec is unforgivable. I really wanted Alec to give in and go off completely. I’m glad he stands up for himself cause boy did not have the honor to do it in the books. we know we get the “I’m not your bitch” line but let’s be honest, Alec isn’t his own person.

I’m just amazed he never went completely unhinged. Magnus, Lydia, Izzy (mostly) are probably the only people who are nice to Alec and don’t treat him badly. a little bit of Simon too!!!!! Alec seriously deserved a huge vacation after season one. I’m amazed he stuck by jaces side after all jace did. let that fucker die and stay dead, please!!! IM SERIOUSLY BEGGING AT THIS POINT LMAO

just major props to Alec for not losing his shit and being one of the best characters ever. I can see why Matt is so proud of Alec and whoever changed show Alec and made him better, THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY COLD HEART SERIOUSLY THANK YOU

because what the fuck was it with jace saying “oh Alec will be here.” like Alec has made it clear that he doesn’t want to be involved with all the missions clary is trying to accomplish (bitch there are rules wtf), resulting in his family’s reputation, Izzy being almost reduned. he expects Alec to do whatever he says. and then when ms. I don’t care about the rules so I’ll run away does indeed run away, jace says Alec isn’t doing his best. might I add, is crossing the line. Alec has done so much for you, you ungrateful unworthy ass!!!!!! somebody needed to beat this child I swear

he gets to be happy with Magnus and actually shows what a healthy and fun relationship is. tries to change the relationships between downworlders and shadowhunters. MAKING HISTORY!! is probably the best leader ever in my opinion. he’s just out here thriving

also wish they would’ve kept his sassiness throughout the seasons. imagine his range and sass please. WE NEEDED IT

[paperstarwriters]

Hey, do you take requests? I loved your Modern Roomate Muriel X Reader fic and I would love a part 2 if you ever felt like writing it <3

Yes I take requests! But it does take a while for me to finish them cause I'm slow and this was no exception lol

thank you for waiting though! and I'm glad you like my writing enough to want more!

For this one I've tried to keep descriptions vague but also I tried to be accurate with Muriel's colors. Though if you can't tell I'm still not exactly confident with makeup lmao. Tbh i can't use it much since I'm prone to rashes, so I don't have much experience lol. Still I hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: Modern Roommates Muriel x Reader

Warnings: Lots of fluff & Author knows little about Makeup 😅.

Summary: Muriel admits that he has worn makeup before, but under such bad circumstances, you can't help but want to give him a better experience.  More important than the colours, more important than the fine lines, you want this to feel... Nice for Muriel. Like he's being pampered. He deserves that you think.

Word Count: 3, 640

Part 1 | Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Painting

"So have you worn make up before?" 

Muriel pauses in making breakfast, turning to face you as you sip at your glass of water at the table. Had he not noticed you come in? He's typically very (annoyingly) good at that. Any chance of preening at your sudden ability to sneak up on your roommate falls flat as he makes a scrunched expression. Disgust perhaps? Or discomfort? You can't tell as he quickly turns back to his cooking, too soon to let you see what exactly he might have felt. 

Thankfully, he graces you with a reply. 

"I... Did before..... For a bit.... For a.... Job." 

Your stomach sinks. 

It's funny how much there is to notice. What you can pick up and understand when you live so closely with a quiet roommate. How a hum can mean a number of things, ranging from a simple yes to, "I think that's kinda dumb but you know what, you do you." or "I appreciate you too much to disagree." And for all that Muriel did not talk to you about his past, he only ever reserves the word "Job" for one job he's had in the past. Everything else is called work. This, you're sure, is better called torture. 

Asra mentioned it once to you before, when you were new roommates and he was far grouchier and colder. Muriel worked a job under some toxic super wealthy frat boy manager doing something violent and unsavory. A boxing ring you sometimes imagined, an assassination job it sometimes sounded like. In desperate need of money he had to do a lot of terrible things. It's a wonder he ever got out without someone chasing him to drag him back in, but well, thanks to the r3d outbreak getting away is way easier when your employers get sick, or when you can feign an illness and leave as the higher ups fear for their lives.

What kind of make up would that kind of job need? Maybe something black around the eyes like they do for the military with their masks? Or was it make up to appear more sick in order to escape?

Muriel sighs as he pushes your plate closer to you, startling you as you hadn't even noticed it was there. You mutter your thanks before you start eating the eggs and rice he's prepared for you, still trying to chew over what his possible past experience might have been with makeup while you try to chew your food at the same time. The result is tenuous of at best as you run very close to choking on your food a handful of times and miss your mouth once or twice when particularly deep in thought. 

What kind of makeup did Muriel even use?

...What would he look like in makeup?

On that point, what would suit him best? Something dramatic and edgy or emo? Or maybe a pop of colour? Green around his eyes might draw lovely attention to the green within, but a dark eyeliner might as well. What about contrast? Red against green? Wouldn't he look lovely in red? A lingering stain of red on his cheeks, and a bright red stain of red on his lips... Ah how kissable they would be then?

...well, anyone would consider his lips kissable if such plush things were stained a vibrant red...

"Are... Are you done?" Muriel mumbles, eyes diverted to tracing the scuffmarks at the bottom of the wall beside him.

It takes you a moment to realize that your plate is already empty, and a moment longer to realize you had been staring at Muriel for the last few minutes as you daydreamed about makeup. You're quick to rectify your mistake as you redirect your attention to your empty plate, though it takes you another moment to remember that it's your turn to wash them, plucking your plate and his from the table to go and wash.

It's silent for awhile. An anxious little silence wrought with a familiar lighthearted tension. It's more awkward than anything, but someone needs to break the silence, someone needed to say something. If you could just—

"Do you wanna try wearing makeup?" you blurt out. You don't even need to turn to look behind you to see his shocked expression at your offer, maybe even a little bit of hurt or betrayal that you just cannot bear to see. So you keep your eyes on the dishes before you, quickly scrubbing away rice with a sponge as the used pan sits below soaking in the water. "Not any battle make-up or anything, but just something... I don't know... Artsy or something? Something colourful? Something that would compliment your eyes..... Uhm not that your eyes aren't pretty or something—or that you're not pretty without makeup—or that you even need to do this at all haha!" 

Above you the light from the small kitchen's lightbulb is eclipsed by a familiar figure behind you. With a gentle touch of your shoulder, Muriel brings your attention up towards him though he still looks away, avoiding your eyes, as the corner of his lips twitches. You can't tell if he's fighting a smile or fighting a frown. 

"You don't have to, Muriel. It's just an idea..." 

And finally he meets your gaze. "I... No. I... I'd like that. It sounds...nice." 

His eyes wander away from you again, as if ashamed to confess that he'd like to wear make up—though maybe, considering what you've heard about that shitty old job, he is. Maybe his old job was the type to argue that pretty makeup was for the weak and spineless, or maybe he was convinced that pretty makeup was only for the rich and wealthy who came to watch or hire him to fight for them, all while they'd sit so far away and safe and cozy in some plush lounge seat, so far away from the danger and the violence, but getting the chance to watch, and delight in the wretched outcome.

Either case is so awfully sad. Either case only makes you want to doll him up in makeup even more.

Furiously you scrub at the pan, and within a matter of seconds you've scraped off anything that had ever threatened to stick, thoroughly scrubbed at it with soap and set it aside to dry with the plates as you wipe your hands on your shirt and nearly bolt off to your room to search for your materials. Hopefully you had colours that would work well with him. 

It takes you a moment to realize that you're alone in your room, turning with a handful of tools to find no one there behind you, and as you peek out of your door and down the hallway, you find Muriel still standing in front of the sink, staring at you with wide confused and slightly worried eyes. 

"Do you not wanna do it anymore?"

His eyes seem to go even wider for a moment, before he replies, "right now?" 

"Did you want to do it later?"

"I—no....okay!"

And back in to your room you go, this time with the added assurance that Muriel would follow, marked by the faint thud of his feet against the hallway floors.

You dig around for your cleanest brushes, and grab your most trustworthy (and thus most used) brushes alongside it, grabbing something to clean the brushes as you bolt off to the bathroom  to wash your tools, before you return to searching your assortment of tools in search for items that would suit him. The red of one lipstick would look lovely in contrast to his eyes, but a muted dusty pink might look just as pretty wouldn't it? Perhaps a bold black eyeliner, would be a bit much—and maybe a bit too similar to whatever black eye paint they used in the military if he used that stuff, so maybe a brown eyeliner would work a bit better? If you even had one of those... Though maybe brown eyeshadow would be effective enough? Ah but maybe brown wouldn't be as noticeable...

You zip back and forth between the washroom and your tools, between cleaning and searching for colours and palettes rummaging through your rather limited assortment of makeup tools. Having only ever bought stuff for yourself, you didn't really have much outside of your favourite colours or in tones that would suit your skin, but a few older products that you tried and didn't like, or a few palettes with sparsely used colours were surely somewhere within the mix. 

You only pause in your searching as you're pulling your brushes out from the washroom, having dried them off loosely with a towel to go further air dry them beside a nearby fan or in the sun by the window or something, you had been in the middle of deciding when you realized you had forgotten a crucial component. 

"Hey Muriel?" 

He sits up straight at the sound of his name, head snapping away to look out the door, as his hands ball into fists as if bracing for the touch of your brush. 

You can't help but hesitate a bit at the sight. 

"What.....?"

"Oh, uh, you should probably go wash your face, and use some cream on your skin as well. The one in the flat container should be pretty good for most skin I think?"

Muriel nods, still not looking your way as you return to your make up drawers in search for odd colours you only maybe, hopefully had for him.

When the sound of the sink finally shuts off, you take it as your cue to give up. It's an odd assortment of colors—you doubt you'd use that neon shade of green on him, even if green is his colour the brightness might be a bit...off-putting right away, but you have a general colour scheme you can follow using some of the colours on hand. 

Face ever so slightly damp and shiny from the cream, Muriel returns, looking... Anxious to say the least really.

He fiddles with his hands a bit, touching his face almost just as much, trying to wipe away invisible droplets of water, or trying to smooth down the thicker patches of the lotion you let him borrow. 

And again, you find yourself hesitant.

"Are you sure you wanna try this? No shame in backing out. It's easy to put this stuff away." 

Muriel nods, following his silence with a half whispered reply. "No, I'm ..... I'm okay. I want to try...."

You nod, and pulling your first brush from it's little cup, you settle down, and begin to get to work. 

It's a lot of careful maneuvering, carefully dabbing colours onto some places with a brush, rubbing other places with your fingers, before you lean away to check how you're doing. Were the colours too bright? Was that line off? There are a few things that you end up having to scrub off with a makeup wipe, but even with that you're careful of his skin. More important than the colours, more important than the fine lines, you want this to feel... Nice for Muriel. Like he's being pampered. Muriel barely moves through the entirety of it all, but for what little he does it means all the world to you. Silent and unmoving, eyes and mouth closed, Muriel serves as the perfect canvas, only difficult in the fact that it keeps you from seeing whether he likes it or not, if he feels pampered or not. At the very least, you hope it feels nothing like whatever his old job used to do for him. 

Ah, but you can only really hope. 

An orange-red lipstick is the final touch, but your limited supply of brushes are already all packed with colours, and you'd like to —if all possible—keep the things that touched your eyes from going towards anyone—including your own—mouth. 

So you elected a far simpler method instead. You rub your finger against the lipstick bullet, and with your finger to his lips you smudge the colour against his skin. And with a simple touch to his lips, you make him jolt, breaking his statuesque composure, for just a moment before he's still all over again, albeit maybe leaning a little more foreword than before. If he has, it's barely noticeable, and probably caused by that one jolt of movement. His lips are a bit chapped and dry, so it takes a few attempts, but you manage to stain his lips with a suitable amount of colour in your eyes. 

You take a step back to see what you've done, and smile, satisfied at your work. It's nothing special, nothing on the level of some professional in a studio with all the makeup options in the world at their fingertips, but you think that it suits him, and you're proud of that much at least.

"You can open your eyes now." 

You offer him a hand mirror, and let him examine your, admittedly shoddy work. It's not perfect, but the colours look nice you think, though you can't help but wince at the selection a little. You just didn't have a shade of green that would fit him well in your opinion, so you leaned instead into the red colours that you did have. You used the only greens you could find to add a little colour to the inner and outer corners of his eyes, and used a warm orange-y-red lipstick on his lips that turned out pretty dark against his skin, you also smudged the colour a bit along his cheeks as well, as a sort of blush really though if you could you'd like to try to capture that shade of red his face so often blooms. It really isn't your best work, limited as your colour palette was, but....

Well, the way his eyes seem to glitter more at seeing it.... Well, it would make any make up look pretty on him really.

"Can I... Ask for one thing?" 

You blink, surprised for a moment before you're immediately grabbing the makeup wipes again. 

"Sure! Do you not like the colours? Is there a colour that you'd rather wear?" 

His cheeks tint red, and you almost curse yourself for the smudge of dark red on his cheeks, making it harder to decipher that exact shade. Surely you had lipstick in that colour at least...?

"What.... What was the colour of lipstick you were wearing last night....?" 

You pause for a moment, dropping the attempt of colour matching to grab the tube of lipstick from it's place on your table. It was a dark red shade, almost like the colour of blood, a shade you specifically aimed to avoid, hoping that it wouldn't make him uncomfortable. 

"This one? You wanna try it on?" He barely even looks at it before he nods, making you sigh as you bring it closer to him to let him inspect it. "It might look different on your skin than it does on mine just an fyi, so don't be surprised if it looks different okay?" 

Muriel nods again, this time having looked at the lipstick a little more thoroughly. He doesn't react to the colour at all no trace of hesitance or weariness, so perhaps they didn't try to paint him in "blood" or anything dramatic like that. 

With your fingers once again, you press the red colour against his lips, as Muriel leans into your touch this time, eyes closed as he lets you work. The sight of it startles you for just a moment, looking as if he were leaning in for a kiss. 

Your finger slips from it's path, and a smudge of red, streaks away from his lips, but even that looks so.... Pretty against his skin. Like he's been kissed, like whatever lipstick he had been wearing had been smudged by another pair of lips eager to express their affection. 

You hesitate, staring at his lips for a moment before you finally turn away to grab more makeup wipes. When you turn back, Muriel's eyes are already open, already staring at your sloppy job with his lipstick. 

"Sorry I'll fix it. Do you like the colour though?" 

Muriel's eyes flicker to yours for a moment before he looks away, but a grin curls his painted lips, as more colour takes to his cheeks. A resounding yes, then, confirmed by a faint hum. A job well done in your books then, and thus a debt well repaid, for his gentle hand at helping you wash your own makeup off. 

You dab at his lip to wipe away the smudged lipstick, before you begin to pack up your supplies. "Feel free to wear that for however long you'd like, I...." you cut yourself off. The offer to help wash the make up from his face tucked away along with your makeup containers. Muriel helped you to clean off the makeup only because you needed his help exhausted and maybe a little drunk from your night out, but Muriel can surely handle himself. 

When you turn back around, Muriel is staring at himself in the mirror. It's the most you've seen him look in a mirror to be honest. Not including the bathroom, your room seems to be the only one in the apartment with a mirror, and though you've offered to let Muriel borrow your mirror if he needs to, or to help him buy his own, he's staunchly refused your offers. It was a small thing though, nothing that you'd feel the need to press him about. He's covered in scars after all, and you know full well how he feels about those—the whole reason why you let him use a handheld mirror than your full sized one. 

But now, as he holds your little handheld mirror up, to look at his face, you can't help but notice how he traces his own lips with a newfound reverence, fingers dancing along the flesh with the barest touch as if he were worried it would smudge, or wipe away with a mere touch. Yet even then, the corners of his lips are pulled up. Did he like it that much? You make a mental note to buy extra of that colour the next chance you get alongside some green eyeshadow perhaps, though by the looks of if, Muriel seemed to much prefer the lipstick that stained his lips than any of the other colours you've splattered on his face. 

It takes him a few moments, but when his eyes finally flicker up to you, he does so with a smile, that promptly fades into a blushy pout as he realizes your attention. It's a tragedy to see it go, but seeing his lip jut out at the attention is nearly as good. 

"Do you like it?" 

You're startled at his question, for a moment, scrambling for coherent thought to best reply to him. The reply you give in the end makes your own face grow warm, though earnest and true. 

"You look lovely." Even your expression softens a little, as your eyes flit back down to his lips.  Once more, Muriel's face picks up colour again, but try as he might, he can't quite keep the smile from curling up the corners of his mouth at his words. 

"Thank you."

Standing, Muriel fidgets with the mirror for a moment before handing it to you, mouth parting for a moment before he thinks better of it and closes it again. It continues for a moment or two, making him stay longer than you'd expect him to, as he stares anywhere but you. Familiar with the gesture, you wait for him to get his words in order, even as he looms above you while you're half sitting against the ledge of your drawers.

If anything, you take the moment to re-assess your work, recalling all the improvements you fully intended to make if he let you do this again. If you could, you'd use a shade closer to his eye colour as his eyeshadow next time, to bring more attention to the colour there. Or maybe even some sparkles next time? If he didn't mind them that is, it could be a bit irritating to try to clean off sometimes. And maybe next time you'd choose a better shade of blush that would match the actual red to rise in his cheeks. 

And the red of his lips... You're tempted to reach up, to press a finger to his lips once more, if only to feel how plush they were again, if only to give him more of that pretty red that he seemed to like so much despite his past.

And you watch as those pretty painted lips part, as those lovely emerald eyes finally dart your way. You watch as his attention finally turns to you, mouth parted as if ready to speak before he pauses, just for a breath, eyes searching your face for... Something. 

And maybe he finds it. Maybe he doesn't. But in reaction to whatever he sees, just a little bit of that tension escapes his face, shoulders sagging and the faintest curl of his lips gracing his expression. 

"Next time," the spell breaks as he speaks, mouth corralled into a pout once more as his eyes dart away from you, "Next time let me put your make up on for you."

And with that he turns away fingers just brushing against yours as he leaves your room, leaving you to blink and wonder what sort of makeup he knew to apply. 

If anything, at least he seemed to like it.

If anything, you had another reason to feel his fingers against your skin...

[lowcosmic]

—— pizza delivery !

— 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 : shuichi , your boyfriend , works part time as a pizza deliverer ; which coincidentally brings him to your house one day …

— 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 : fluff

— 𝙘𝙬 : nothing

— 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 : inspired by an ask i got.

↳ shuichi’s last shift of the day had him put on a delivery. although rather close by , shuichi still felt drained as he got on his customary e - bike and sped off. with the pizza tucked carefully in the back storage , shuichi hurried down the road to his destination.

→ the only thing he knew about where he was going was that it was the same area you resided in , and in turn made him a bit optimistic to think that maybe you ordered it.

→ finally arriving , he parked the bike as best he could and rang the doorbell. he heard a couple of shuffling noises inside , maybe someone getting up from the floor? now that he had time to inspect , this was definitely your place. his heart fluttered with excitement.

→ the door opened , and out you came. shuichi felt his face get as hot as his hands holding the pizza box , which was burning through his skin.

→ “ shuichi? oh , good! i called right on time. ” you smiled. “ come in! ” you gestured for him to follow you inside.

→ “ a - ah? … but i’m still on my shift … and … u -uh … ” he’d try to protest , even if your house seemed mighty inviting with you being the final topper to the relaxing picture.

→ you took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “ oh , it’ll be fine. i just want to thank you really quick anyways. ” he obliged , even though he didn’t exactly know why you were thanking him.

→ inside , you led him to sit down at a chair while you went to go get something. meanwhile , shuichi felt as if he were going to fall asleep. the day had been filled with lots of orders , and he still had those few tests to take tomorrow ; not only for his application for his full time job , but also for his actual school.

→ you came back , some money in hand. a fifty. “ here , for you. ”

→ he was stunned. that was too much money — especially since he knew that saving that up must’ve been pretty tedious. “ I - I can’t accept that! you should keep it — you deserve it more — ”

→ you wrapped shuichi in a warm hug and a soft kiss. “ i’ve noticed you haven’t been eating lately to save money. i can’t watch that. so , take it. ”

→ you felt shuichi tearing up. you’d do this … for him?

→ “ i’d do more than this , but since you are still on your shift , you’d better be on your way. thanks for — ” shuichi cut you off by smashing his lips against yours.

→ “ i think i can spare a few more minutes … ”

please don’t repost , translate , or claim my works as your own.

[sawyerconfort]

the coven when you're taking the seven wonders test...

SHE'S BACK AGAIN!

And with Coven headcannons! Yay, who cheered?

No one asked for that one specifically, but in my mind it sounded like a really great idea, so... Hope you liked it!

Trying my best to come back with more posts in a row, so... Get ready!

Maybe today there's one more, but I'm not sure, so... Stay tuned!

Enjoy!

Requests open but please be gentle and please give me some time!

------------------------------------------

The Coven and Kyle at The Seven Wonders Test (Young!Reader, just for the record!)

Cordelia Goode, Fiona Goode, Zoe Benson, Madison Montgomery, Misty Day, Nan, Queenie, Myrtle Snow, Mallory, Marie Laveau and Kyle Spencer!

Cordelia Goode

I've spoken countless times about how naturally good Cordelia is.

So, it's not news that she will fully support you as long as you decide to even take the test.

But, of course, she's afraid that something will go wrong along the way (trauma from Misty's not-returning scene in Coven, perhaps?)

I mean, if she's the Supreme, she has enough reasons and memories to be scared for you.

Cordelia is the type of person who will practice day after day with you, every spell, every gift, whatever you need her to do, she will do it.

But she'll also make sure to give you a few good seconds of rest, distracting you from the tension and madness of using your powers at full range.

"It's okay honey, you know you're capable of passing the test, and I trust you for that either."

Fiona Goode

Fiona will never admit it, but she's all for you testing the Seven Wonders.

Sure, it means she'll probably fall and be replaced by you, but she really doesn't care.

I completely see a chaotic scenario where Fiona cheats on the test just so you can win.

And then, in her selfless little way, she tries her hardest to convince the others that you deserved the victory on your own merits.

She'll probably just be watching you in the training phase, watching your attempts to do well in one Wonder or another, giggling and pondering over the perfect cheat.

Fiona is clearly so excited for you to try that she'll end up celebrating too loudly when you make it past the first try.

And, again, she will pretend that nothing happened.

"Ah, come on, don't be silly, (Y\N). You're dating the Supreme, of course you'll win that stupid test."

Zoe Benson

I think Zoe would be a lot like Cordelia in that sort of way.

But she would also be very demanding so that you could better train your skills.

Zoe would stay by your side the entire time, relieving all the insecurities of you. She has to make sure you are mentally prepared for this.

When she sees that you feel down about failing, she will try to distract you.

And she will definitely celebrate every achievement you have during the test.

And she would certainly tend to all your wounds, refusing to let you die.

"You can do it, my love. I trust you."

Madison Montgomery

Just as Zoe would behave like Cordelia, I think Madison would behave like Fiona.

She would definitely do anything for you to win.

Anything at all.

But be prepared for a lot of tireless training, daily use of magic to be able to displace your other competitors and, of course, a lot of orders coming from Madison.

I don't think she would cheat for you to win.

I mean, not if it's not strictly necessary.

And if you fail any of the tests, she'll get tough until she's away from the audience.

Madison would never admit it out loud, but there's no way she'd let you die.

"Come on, (Y\N), we have to win this fucking test!"

Misty Day

I'm sure Misty would be a little wary of you deciding to test the Seven Wonders.

But she would equally trust you and use every resource to cheer you up.

Words of affirmation when you feel down and unsure of your potential.

She making you rest as much as possible, especially when the test day is close.

She knows how difficult it can be to prepare for this kind of thing.

You can be sure that she would immediately offer to Concilium.

And that she would take care of you if you were injured, no matter how serious it was.

"Ya can do it, (Y\N), my dear, ya just need confidence."

Nan

Nan is the purest soul possible.

And she puts so much effort into cheering you up that it gets even better.

She's afraid you'll end up failing the test, but she tries to hide it as much as she can so you don't notice.

She will DEFINITELY cheat at Concilium by helping you better control people's minds.

Of course, she's so good at it that nobody notices, after all.

I see her totally getting into trouble with people who try to cheat you to lose on purpose.

"Concentrate, love. Remember what I taught you, right? You can do it!"

Queenie

Okay, Queenie would probably be totally opposed to you taking the Seven Wonders test.

She's been there, she knows how dangerous it can get.

And honestly, she'd rather you join her in voodoo, which is less dangerous.

But even so, I think she would consider the fact that the test would make you happy, so why not?

Ultimately, Queenie would be one of the most present people when it comes to rooting for you.

She would encourage you so much that Cordelia would have to ask her not to break your concentration halfway through.

I see her calling your opponents all the ugliest names possible, just for the pleasure of knowing you're competing.

I don't think she would cheat, she would just protect you from the risks of dying in the middle of the test, and that's not necessarily cheating.

"Come on, love! You can do it! Show them how badass you can be!"

Myrtle Snow

Just the fact that you agree to take the test is a headache for Myrtle.

Like, she knows you're capable, but with all the experience and knowledge she's gained about witches on the Council, is enough to worry her for weeks.

However, she is not opposed to your wanting to take the test.

She will do her best to maintain a neutral posture.

But this is Myrtle Snow we're talking about, so... I don't guarantee she'd hold out until the end.

She would definitely ask you to stop when she sees you are about to get hurt.

And, of course, she would take care of you when she saw that your injuries and your disappointment at not passing the test took the reins of the situation.

"Don't worry, my dear, you did what you could. I still think you'd make a great Supreme, no test necessary."

Mallory

Time to clarify that Mallory is an overprotective girlfriend.

But at the same time, she would support you to the fullest.

She would do anything to help you train for the test, that includes spells, gifts, potions, whatever.

Proud girlfriend on the way!

I also see Cordelia or one of the girls having to ask her to let you focus and stop cheering too loudly.

And when you get hurt, she'll probably take care of you and go back in time countless times just so you don't die.

"It's okay, my love. It's okay, you're okay. And I'm proud of you, so proud."

Marie Laveau

Marie would also be totally opposed to the idea of ​​you trying on the test.

Her rivalry with witches kind of plays into that at first.

But I think your self-assurance and the trust she feels for you changes that idea in a short time.

Marie hates to admit it, but she is proud to see you blossoming new powers.

She will DEFINITELY try her hardest to cheat, on the sly of course.

All for you, in the end, it's worth it.

She will use all of her powers to heal your wounds and keep you from dying.

And without admitting it, too, she'd learn to like the Coven witches better.

"Not to brag, but you're the hottest of the contestants, you're sure to win..."

Kyle Spencer

Kyle was definitely going to be one of your biggest supporters.

Okay, okay, he can't do much, for obvious reasons.

But just having his company there is enough.

He'll be watching you train the entire time, fascinated by your skills.

And he'll give you kisses and cuddles to show that he's proud of you.

The test was going to go well because you made him promise to hold on.

And he did it solely for you.

Sure, some meltdowns and some excessive screaming because he really can't contain himself sometimes, but that's okay.

At least, he did his best.

"Proud. I'm proud of you. (Y\N)."