#THAT IS ARGUABLY THE REASON HE IS YOUR BOYFRIEND TODAY.

[essektheylyss]

I think we also need to talk about the fact that not only did Keyleth call Caleb, but she ALSO has a Sending Stone from him. How many Sending Stones does this man have. How does he keep track of them all. When will he simply TAKE AN EVENING TO COPY DOWN SENDING

[coco-loco-nut]

Twins

pairing: Lando x Twin Reader

summary: you are Lando younger twin, arguably more famous, and finally get to see him win, then you get to embarrass him a couple times

a/n: i was listening to the spice girls and got carried away from the original request, my bad :) also it’s not proofread

requests open masterlist

———————

“Lando, I literally have more followers and awards than you,” you argue with your twin about who’s more famous.

“Okay, well I’m still older,” he replies.

“Stop arguing, you rarely see each other as is. Why don’t you show her around the paddock and garages before you need to get ready for the race?” Zak rubs his face, tired of the sibling nonsense. He wasn’t wrong, you were much busier with your career. You are a member of a girl band that has been likened to the Spice Girls, have a successful solo career, and model when not on tour. The only reason you are at this race is because you have a concert in the same city a few hours after it.

“How’s the tour?” Lando asks, you arm looped with his as he leads you out of the garage.

“It’s so much fun. I missed being out on the road with the girls, and all the shows sold out. We should go to the club after our show, I heard that Miami is great for parties,” you say excitedly. The two of you were really close, despite your schedules not being great for hanging out.

“We will. All the guys are grateful for the tickets to your show tonight, by the way,”

“It was my pleasure, you guys will be in the family tent near the stage with backstage access. Enough about that, when will you no longer be Lando NoWins, bringing dishonor on my name,” you tease and he gently shoves you.

“Today’s the day, I feel it,” he says, pointing out some things. The nice thing about your stardom is that both you and Lando don’t notice or care about the cameras on you.

“Sure, and pigs will fly. The girls and I made a bet, if you win, then we will invite you and the grid up to the stage,” you tell him.

“Y/n?” you hear Carlos say from a group of drivers. Lando drags you over.

“Hi, Carlitos. How’s red suiting you?” you ask, hugging the Spaniard.

“Good, I heard you were in town for a show. How’s being an international pop star suiting you?” Carlos returns your question.

“It’s a lot of fun, I do miss Lando though,” you glance at your twin.

“Your sister is hot,” Logan says, he’s heard some of your music and he knows you are talented.

“Is she single?” Lance asks, also looking at you.

“She has a boyfriend, Luke, he’s an actor,” Lando scowls at the two guys.

“Would we know him from anything?” Max asks, trying to distract Lando.

“Bridgerton,” Lando says and the two single drivers groan.

“Yeah, you two don’t stand a chance. She’s dating Colin Bridgerton,,” Charles laughs.

“He’ll be at the concert tonight too,” Lando adds.

“I’m returning my favorite Norris to you, Lando,” Carlos walks you back over to the group.

“We will see you guys later,” Lando says, pulling you away so he can continue the tour.

“I found out who is performing at COTA this year,” you tell Lando and his eyes widen.

“Is it Taylor again? I can’t believe we missed out on that,” Lando guesses and you shake your head.

“Me, you idiot!” you gently hit his head.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me for too long,” Lando grins smugly.

“I can, and will, take away your ticket for tonight,” you threaten. Lando ignores you, pointing out something else. After the tour, Lando shows you where you can get a quick workout in while he changes into his race gear. You wait for Lando in the garage, where you meet Bianca.

“I’m a huge fan,” she gasps when you sit beside her.

“You’re a huge fan? I’m a huge fan. I love watching you race,” you tell her. Of course you support the F1 Academy, you just hope that the girls get contracts from it.

“Can we get a picture?” Bia asks and you are quick to agree. You get a couple pictures together before you spot Oscar and Lando walking in.

“Lan, Osc, come here. Family picture,” you call them over as Bia hands her phone to a social media staff member.

“We should do one of those awkward family photos from Tik Tok and gift them to Zak,” Bia suggests to Lando and Oscar.

“Sure Bia, we will talk about it later,” Oscar says, heading over to his car.

“Don’t crash, Lando, Mum will kill me,” you hug your twin tight.

“Maybe I will then,” he jokes but you give him a look that says it wasn’t funny. “Sorry, you’re right, I shouldn’t joke about that. I’ll see you after the race,” Lando heads out to the starting grid. You cheer when Oscar leads the race, and again when Lando takes the lead. After the safety car, you don’t speak about Lando’s position, afraid to jinx it. You run with the team to the end of the pit lane after lando crosses the line. You cry as Lando runs over, jumping into the arms of his team, and you cry harder when he’s set back down and hugs you.

“I’m so proud of you, Lando,” you say, holding him tight.

“Thank you for being here for me,” he says back, he’s crying too. You pull away and wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Go enjoy your podium, champ,” you smile as the crew lets you know it’s time to go to the podium. Bia pushes you up front with Zak. You video call your parents so they can watch from your view as well as the tv. You don’t even realize, or care, that the cameras captured you crying beside Zak as Lando raised his trophy. Afterwards, there’s only a minute to congratulate him again before you have to go to the Kaseya Center. You manager wanted Hard Rock Stadium, but that’s currently occupied by a bunch of F1 teams.

You start the show strong with the girls, and when you get to the part of the show where you usually bring out a musical guest, you have the pleasure of introducing the guys. The guys don’t realize that the girls and you have planned on embarrassing them.

“Thank you so much Miami, if you guys have been following the tour, then you know this is the part where we introduce a very special musical guest. I think you guys are going to like this one,” you grin devilishly as the crowd cheers.

“Give it up for your hometown boy, Logan Sargeant,” you pause again and watch Logan run onto the stage. “You’re a winner in their hearts, Logan. I’d also like to introduce my twin brother, Lando NoWins, fresh off of his very first Grand Prix victory,” you smile, Lando making a beeline to hug you. “Also the rest of the grid, I don’t need to introduce them, you know them from fan fiction about my brother,” you watch Lando almost choke on the air he’s breathing. Your band mate, Amy, takes over as you and the two other girls pass the guys mics.

“These boys have graciously agreed to prove they are multitalented, so they are going to be singing a favorite of ours,” she smiles, motioning the crowd to cheer. You and the girls start the introduction to Wannabe by the Spice Girls, the guys taking over at the start of the first verse. The four of you fill in where the guys don’t know the words as much, but it’s clear they are having fun with it, especially since there are dancing terribly on stage.

“The Formula One drivers, everyone! Their first and last musical performance on stage, stick to driving, my loves,” you laugh, most of them choosing to hug you before leaving the stage.

“Great show, Y/n,” your boyfriend, Luke, kisses you before going to greet your band mates so you can receive the horde of drivers.

“I can’t believe you made us sing,” Lando says, a smile on his face.

“At least it was a song I knew,” George says, he actually did kinda slay.

“Can I collaborate with you?” Charles asks.

“Of course, let’s find a time after the race season,” you tell charles.

“You forget not all of us know Brit Pop,” Alex pouts.

“You didn’t know the Spice Girls?” Fernando seems actually offended.

“Fernando, you made your debut at the height of the Spice girls, Oscar wasn’t even born when their last album came out,” Lewis points out.

“That one doesn’t count, Geri wasn’t in it,” Max says, referring to his team principal’s wife.

“You all sounded wonderful because you were having fun with it,” you tell them, Luke walks back over to you, handing you a towel and water.

“Geri just texted me, she said she thought we were funny, but we aren’t allowed to sing any more Spice Girls because we make her look bad,” Max says, looking at his phone. “Oh, but she thought your band is just lovely, and that the Spice Girls should join you for a tour stop,” Max tells you.

“Well, you all heard Ginger Spice, no singing career for you lot,” you laugh.

“Alright, you guys have a good rest of the season. I’ll see you in Austin,” you wave goodbye to them, only Lando remains.

“Would you and Luke like to join me for a late night dinner?” Lando asks, you look to your boyfriend for confirmation.

“If you can find somewhere that we won’t be mobbed, we are in,” you lean into Luke. “Alright, I need to shower and change, follow me,” you show them to a green room near your dressing room. After a quick shower, you throw on an oversized McLaren tee and grey sweatpants. The dinner is lovely, but you have to go straight from there to the airport to catch the late flight to your next tour spot.

When you return for Austin as a solo artist, you are bouncing with excitement, Lando has looked really good the last few races. After qualifying, you go to the stage to get ready for your performance. Lando sends a selfie to you of him and the guys waiting front row for your concert to start, obviously surrounded by security.

About halfway through, you pause to truly appreciate all 80,000 people here to watch you.

“I’d like to take a moment to appreciate all of you for being here, even if it’s just because my twin drives really fast. I, um, wanted to bring out some guest to show you how much I appreciate you all, if that’s okay with you?” you ask as the crowd goes crazy.

“If you couldn’t tell from my Miami concert, I love this band, so from the Spice Girls, Ginger and Scary Spice, aka Geri Horner and Mel B! Accompanying us on piano is Charles Leclerc!” You open your arms for the crowd to greet them, the tifosi in the crowd are extra loud. “Lando, close your ears,” you say really quickly, moving upstage to get into position beside the two Spice Girls. Charles starts playing the into to 2 Becomes 1, a very slow and sexual song. As the three of you move downstage, you can see Lando’s embarrassed face. Worth it.

[bratzforchris]

Can we get Matt x little!fem reader? And she’s been having a tough day and she’s finally comfortable enough to start sleeping into little space because Matt’s there? 🤍

Sleepy Baby

Summary: Above!

Pairing: Matt x little and feminine!reader

Warnings: Mentions of childhood trauma

Word Count: 993

A/N: Thank you for the request! This was actually so cute 🎀🧸 As always, age regression is nonsexual and innocent. Hate towards myself/my readers/my works will be blocked--if you don't like it, don't read it! Enjoy<3

Despite only having been together for a few months, Matt was arguably a blessing from the universe. Being your first boyfriend, you had been slightly scared about how he would treat you, especially when you told him about some of the trauma you had experienced at a young age that had caused you to be slightly averse to relationships. However, the brunette had been nothing but accepting, always cuddling you, kissing you, reassuring you, and overall making sure that you felt loved. Even when you two had to have the difficult conversation regarding your regression and why you did it, Matt had been nothing but open and loving with you. 

The way Matt learned of your regression was purely an accident. He would never snoop through your private belongings. Rather, he had been looking for one of his hoodies that had been missing for a month now. He finally found it in your corner of the shared closet, and when he had retrieved it from the floor, a pacifier, teether, and bottle fell out. His first thought was that you were pregnant and had yet to tell him, but upon inspection, the pacifier was much too large for an infant. 

Always being open to conversations and problem solving in your relationship, Matt had simply asked you about the things with a gentle look on his face. Despite your tears and panic over how your boyfriend now viewed you, you went on to explain that you reverted to a younger headspace to cope with your childhood trauma and usually to escape the anxiety of adult life. Though the age varied, your littlespace was around that of a two to a four year old. Matt had been soft with you the entire time, promising that he still loved you just the same and that he was happy you were healing and coping in a healthy way. He had even offered to be your caregiver, but you simply shook your head, cuddling into his side. As much as you adored Matt and his love, regressing around someone else was a step you weren't quite ready for. 

It had been about three months since the conversation with Matt, and you still hadn’t slipped around your boyfriend. He had encouraged your regression by buying you stuffed animals and sometimes even new decorated pacifiers, but he also understood that it might take you a while to share such a large and “embarrassing” thing with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to; rather, you were so anxious about Matt changing his mind about loving you once he saw you actually regressed. You still slipped, of course, but it was never when Matt was home. 

All of that was going to change today, though. For some reason, everything that could go wrong, did. You had spilled hot coffee on your white blouse at work, then your lunch order had been delivered to the wrong office, and finally, you had gotten stuck in a hour-long traffic jam on your commute home. As soon as you stepped in your and Matt’s shared apartment, you flopped down on the living room floor and began to cry. Was it childish? Sure. But you had had an awful day, and being tired and emotional were your biggest headspace triggers. 

Matt came out of his office when he heard you wailing, looking down at you on the living room floor. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked sadly, sitting beside you. 

“Everything!” You wailed. 

“Wanna elaborate on that?” he asked with a gentle smile, pulling you into his lap. 

You began to recount the story of your awful day, clinging to Matt’s shirt as your tears stained the gray fabric. You could feel yourself slipping with every passing second, but honestly, you were too tired to care. “...an so tiwed.” You sobbed finally, fully slipping into your headspace. 

Matt froze at the sudden change in your voice, but you didn’t seem to notice his hesitation. Your boyfriend just rubbed your back for a moment before quietly whispering. “Daddy’s here, honey. I’ve got you. Everything’s okay, baby.” 

The few sentences alone were enough to make you stop crying as you snuggled into Matt’s hold. Unbeknownst to you, he had been reading up on age regression ever since that day, learning as much as he could about how to help you. He knew that gentle words and speaking of himself in the third person usually helped, and it was clearly working. Your tears had slowly reduced to sniffles and little hiccups as you relaxed in his hug. 

Matt allowed you two to sit on the floor for a while, before he slowly stood up with you in his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom. He knew that you probably wouldn’t want to talk a lot right now, but that was okay. He simply changed you into one of your soft onesies that you kept in your dresser, before tucking you in softly and laying down beside you. He continued to hum sweet, nonsensical things to you as he plucked your pacifier from the nightstand and slipped it between your lips. 

It wasn’t long until you were encased in snuggles from Matt, comfy onesie on, pacifier in your mouth, and your favorite stuffie that had a recording of his voice in it in your hand. Your boyfriend knew that a lot of conversations would have to be had after this occurrence, but right now, he simply enjoyed the time with his little one, admiring the way your eyes had glossed over and your lips had a little smile as you yawned. Just before you fell asleep, you said something that made Matt’s heart swell, and reminded him that this was exactly what he was meant to do. 

“I loves you, Daddy.” You whispered as you slowly fell asleep. 

“I love you, baby girl.” he whispered back just as gently, knowing that today was just the start of something beautiful.  

[nicksbestie]

Hi! Could I ask for a request of Chris with a girlfriend who’s a little? And she finally starts slipping around him? Thanks 💜

Comfortable - C. Sturniolo

Summary : Your boyfriend may know your most personal coping mechanism, but you haven't used it around him, until today.

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : none!!!

Word Count : 1094

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Your boyfriend knew so much about you. He arguably knew more about you than your parents did. He knew you on a much deeper, more personal, level, as he was the person that you could go to when you needed to talk about anything and everything. With that being said, he knew one of your most personal secrets, that you used regression as a coping mechanism to relax and heal from the amount of things that you had been through as a young child and teenager, and when you had told him, he had been incredibly supportive, albeit not knowing very much about it. 

He had been open minded, asking questions while being careful to not be rude, even unintentionally, and you could tell that he genuinely just wanted to understand. He never made you feel bad, weird, gross, or anything negative about how you chose to cope, and because of the fact that he knew just how much you had been through, he understood your choice of this mechanism because after learning about it, he could see that it was incredibly beneficial for you. There was a lot of talking about it, making sure that Chris truly understood what you were telling him, making sure that there was absolutely no room for confusion in what he was expecting. 

It was so cute when you would go onto Chris’ phone for random reasons, taking photos, or googling something, and seeing lots of age regression related things in his search history and in his saved Pinterest boards. You could nearly feel your heart warm at the fact that you had found such a supportive partner, who accepted you for exactly who you were, and was clearly very open about it and wasn’t just supporting you because he felt like he had to. He often sent you pictures of cute stuffed animals and blankets, and he even got a package delivered to the house that, when opened, contained small toys with your name printed on them, along with some bottles and pacifiers with some pet names in deco beading on them. 

You had cried when you had opened it, and he had immediately rushed into the room, a soft smile appearing on his face when he saw why you were crying. He had wrapped his arms around you, gently comforting you, whispering gentle nothings, pressing kisses to the top of your head and reminding you that he loved you, and that included everything about you. He had helped you put those things into your box of little things, and he had held you until you stopped crying. What he had noticed recently, was that you hadn’t slipped at all around him. However, he brushed it off, knowing that your regression was an incredibly vulnerable thing for you, and he never wanted to damage that in any way. When you decided to regress around him was completely up to you, but he would be here to care for you if and when you did. 

A couple more weeks went by, and Chris never pushed it. You both were curled up together after a long night and day, Chris had been filming a lot, and you had gone through a tough shift at work, so you were both just happy to be in each other’s company, enjoying the quality time with each other despite how exhausted you were. Being excessively tired was normally a trigger for your headspace, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you were fighting it right now. You were definitely still holding a little bit of anxiety about it, because despite the fact that Chris had seemed to be so open minded when you had told him, you couldn’t know for sure that he would be okay with it after you actually regressed around him. 

You’d talked about your triggers with Chris before, and he knew that exhaustion was one of them, so unbeknownst to you, he was watching you like a hawk to see if you did begin to slip around him, and he was being so excessively gentle just in case. He had a feeling that you had a habit of not giving in to slipping sometimes, just because of the lack of you regressing around him. He wasn’t judging, but he had done an excessive amount of research, and he had found that littles who have anxiety when they’re big can often unintentionally carry that feeling over to their headspace, and when they’re smaller, it feels a lot worse. So he knew that he would need to be soft and encouraging, and when he noticed you cuddle closer into his side, he just had a feeling.

He’d never been a caregiver before, but he couldn’t deny that there was some type of feeling when he thought about the fact that you trusted him so much that he could see the most vulnerable part of you and still love you immensely. You felt so incredibly lucky to have him, and he knew that he was so lucky to have you as well. When he wrapped his arms around you, he began rubbing your back, being as gentle as possible, running his other hand through your hair and gently kissing your forehead. He whispered sweet nothings to you, sentences filled with love confessions and pet names, making sure that you felt safe in his arms.  

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I know. You can slip, baby, I’ve got you.” 

You had always been quite an emotional little, and when he whispered those specific words to you, you couldn’t stop the tears that immediately filled in your eyes. He gently wiped them away, keeping you close to him, knowing that you found a lot of comfort in being within close contact of people. You were so exhausted that when you eventually did give in to your headspace, you didn’t have the energy to speak much. However, Chris could tell through your mannerisms that you had allowed yourself to slip, and he immediately placed your favorite stuffie in your arms, a Build-A-Bear kitty that had a recording of his voice inside the heart. When you grabbed his shirt in your hand, tightening it in your fist just like a baby would, he couldn’t ignore the way that his heart swelled. 

After spending the rest of the night comforting and loving on you, making sure you were comfortable, safe, happy, and had everything you needed, he looked down on you while you were peacefully sleeping, and knew this was exactly where he was supposed to be in life.

~ taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

[writtenfangirl]

Call Me By My Name

Singapore was arguably the most exciting race of the season. Been thinking about writing fics for Carlos Sainz too but only if there's a demand for it so drop your prompts/suggestions if you guys feel like reading about our favorite Smooth Operator!

Y/N clicked the little red dot on the screen of her phone before nestling it amongst the clutter of the TV stand, aiming it towards her and her unsuspecting boyfriend, who was too busy preparing himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen to notice his girlfriend’s mischievous grin or the furtive glances she was casting his way. 

Not for the first time in her life, Y/N was grateful for the apartment’s open floor plan. 

Charles’ apartment was located in one of the highest buildings in Monaco. Many of Charles’ driver friends lived in the same apartment complex but only he lived in the penthouse. The owner of the building was a big fan of his and had given Charles the penthouse of less than half the price. 

The building was close to the sea and with Charles’ living in the highest floor, his apartment had one of her favorite views in the world. They spent hours of their lives here with the windows open, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, mingling with the salty sea breeze that flew through the room. Sunsets were even more gorgeous with the view of the apartment and Y/N always made sure to leave after dark so she could watch the sun sinking beneath the waves. Not that Charles really allowed her to go when it go too dark. Most of the time, he insisted she’d stay over for the night so he knew she was safe.

Another reason why she preferred to “leave” after dark.

The apartment’s wide and expansive space was airy, light easily filtering through the window’s gauzy curtains. The open floor plan meant Y/N was able to keep her phone hidden in a little space next to the TV without Charles noticing it, all the while affording her phone a view of the kitchen unobstructed. 

She sent her phone a quick grin and a thumbs up before she settled on one of the couches in the living room that gave her a perfect of view of Charles. He was shirtless, his back turned to her as he reached for a bowl in the high shelf of his cupboard.

“Baby, do you want anything?” Charles called out as he continued preparing his food.

“Do you think you can make me of a cup of coffee, Charles?” She answered, a little too innocently when he went back to the empty bowl that he placed on the kitchen isle with a box of cereal in his hands.

Almost instantly he paused, the cereal box raised and half-poured, his eyes wide in alarm instantly snapping to her. “What did you say?”

“I said, can you make me a cup of coffee, Charles?” She repeated, fighting to keep her expression blank. How she managed to not burst out laughing at the sight of pure and abject horror at her boyfriend’s face was beyond her. 

His alarmed expression intensified at his name as he put down the cereal box, his snack forgotten. “Did I do something to upset you, amore? Are you mad at me?”

She feigned ignorance. “No, Charles. I just want some coffee.”

“You did it again!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at her as he rounded the kitchen aisle and came out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“Did what again?”

“You called me Charles!”

“That’s your name!” She exclaimed, unable to stop her laugh this time.

“What is today?” He demanded before fishing his phone out of his pocket and checking the date. “Today is not your birthday or our anniversary. What did I do?”

“Nothing!” She exclaimed. 

“But you are calling me Charles, amore! That means you are mad!”

“Am I not allowed to call you Charles?” She teased. 

“No.” He declared with a pout. “You can only call me Charles when you are mad at me. Any other day, you call me babe or amore or (a term of endearment in your native language).”

“Okay, Charles. Please make me a cup of coffee?”

His pout turned into a scowl before he raised a hand to his brow like a sailor searching for land. He turned left and right and in such a dramatic way, it could only be called sarcastic. “Who is this Charles, amore? Do I know him? Is he here?”

“You are Charles! Charles Marc Herve Percival Leclerc!”

“Ask Charles to make you your coffee.” He scoffed before he crossed his arms, his head cocked high up into the sky before he spun around and sauntered back to the kitchen. 

Y/N couldn’t stop her laughter anymore. Not when her overdramatic boyfriend occasionally acted like a child when he was being teased by her. She shook her head, her lips pulled into a smile as she jumped on her feet and walked to the kitchen, embracing him from behind as he poured cereal into his once abandoned bowl. “I’m only kidding, babe. Can you please make me a cup of coffee?” And to seal the deal, Y/N stood on her tip toes and placed a kiss on his stubbly cheeks. 

Almost immediately, Charles’s sulking face lightened into a grin as he turned around, took her face in his warm hands and placed a quick kiss on her lips. It was so fast, it was more appropriate to call it a peck but it had the same effect as his other kisses. Her toes curled, her smile turning wide and infectious. 

“Okay, amore,” he said when he pulled away, his smile as incandescent as hers no doubt was. His verdant eyes were almost glittering, reminding of her of leaves against the summer sun, impossibly green yet tinged blue when held up to the sky. “I will make you your coffee, just the way you like it.”

“Thank you,” and then because she couldn’t help it, “Charles.”

His answering groan was enough to give Y/N a permanent smile for the rest of the day.

[evafhernee]

fit getting constant BACK to BACK donos about fitpac… the voices in his head trying to get him to admit his feelings lmaoo

anyways here’s a text ver compilation of fitpac donos and his reactions just from today it’s super long but I’m sure I wasn’t even fast enough to write 50% of it

“so you would be okay if pac dated somebody else? if he was someone else’s roomate?” (forgot his reaction)

“how about a friendly bet when fit will admit pac is more than a roommate”

fit: WELL, you’re gonna be waiting a while… NOT THAT I FEEL A CERTAIN WAY ABOUT HIM-

fit: ya’ll are going crazy with these subs… “tragic love” are you shitting me??

“you went on a date with pac, but yeah yoga room is cool”

fit: (head in hands)

“all it takes is a single confession and we'll let you rest. Just walk up to him, and say, I love you. and it'll all be over”

fit: that sounds dangerous… if I walk up to anyone and say “i love you” they’re gonna call the police on me!

pac just showed up. no way he heard all that. chat is scattering lmao

(after pac left)

fit: THAT COULD HAVE BEEN BAD… NO PARTICULAR REASON OF COURSE.

“No need to cheat when you're in love :3 <3”

(forgot reaction)

“Fit your date left, you missed the opportunity :( dont hate me fit te quiero mucho don huevo <3”

fit: (head in hands) what do you mean DATE… my ROOMMATE!

(forgot the dono but it was something along the lines of “you need to confess eventually”)

fit: you just want it NOW NOW NOW. it’s just a couple of months!

“give him flowers at least for gods sake, he did it for you”

fit: I know you’re the voices in my head but… IM NOT LOOKING FOR ADVICE.

“leave the poor emotionally stunted man alone chat he can move at his own pace. arguably calling a man you don't live with your roommate is gayer than being boyfriends anyway”

fit: WHAT DO YOU MEAN “EMOTIONALLY STUNTED”?

“So sir… Are you assuming something about slowburn and your roommate? Hm… SUS”

fit: (head in hands)

[lightlycareless]

a little preview of what's coming today. one request that's been sitting on my askbox for a while 😣

posted already :)

Naoya doesn’t like admitting it, and you’ll never catch doing so either—certainly not when it comes to you, the only person he’s ever tried his hardest to appear as confident, seemingly untouchable, above all problems regardless of their nature: a reliable man you could always lean on.

But the truth is, he still gets nervous. Very nervous, indeed. To the point you’d think he was about to attempt a life-or-death type of endeavor, not a silly thing! (it’s not silly, Naoya just says that in order to feel better)

“Do you want to watch a movie…” it’s how it started—at that point, Naoya wasn’t that flustered. Sure, he was excited to spend time with you, as much as any loving boyfriend would! If it were him, the two would be together, every day, every hour, everywhere!

“…in my dorm?”

It’s only when you say these words that he effectively becomes an utter mess, unable to do anything else besides allow heat to form on his cheeks, throat tightening as he squeaks a quick:

“Yes!”

Before going back to his class, to torment himself with what just transpired, and what wonderful things it actually represented.

Still early in the relationship, this would be the first time you and Naoya… saw each other in a more private setting.

Far from seeing each other at cafeteria to eat lunch together, training when the other’s usual partner wasn’t available, going on missions whenever teachers sought it necessary, studying if you didn’t get something from a class he already had (he’s a year older—before your being your boyfriend, Naoya was actually your senpai.), amongst other things.

In other words, his mind saw it was step forward in what he considered the rest of his life with you, and such statement brought him so much happiness, he literally couldn’t do anything else but spend his time imagining just what you had in store for him; undoubtedly something good, he quickly assumes.

Naoya prided himself for being quite reserved when it comes to personal matters, but such was his excitement this time around, that he was unable to hide it from his prying friends, the same ones that were always eager to tease him simply because he made it too easy, often entertained by his outlandish reactions…

Or amusing discoveries.

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Naoya?” One of his friends, Kiyotaka (probably someone he could replace with someone infinitely better, as you’ve once hinted.) says once taking a seat before him.

“What are you even talking about.” Naoya responds defensively, like he always did.

“Tsk, come on… you don’t really believe we’re going to fall for that, are we?” Another friend of Naoya’s, arguably of the same nature as Kiyotaka, Hideki, adds with a teasing tone.

“I don’t need to believe anything, you can do whatever you want.” He hisses, still avoiding the subject, if he wanted to push them away, he fails miserably.

Unfortunately, they knew it would only take a few more shoves to get Naoya talking.

And when it finally happened, oh, was he regretful he ever said anything.

“I’m going on a date with Y/N.” Is the sentence that pushes them over the edge, a smirk plastered on their faces as they seem to catch on to your “ulterior motives” way before him.

“Really? Where are you two going?” Kiyotaka asks.

“What do you care?” Naoya frowns, but they knew well to take his intimidation with a grain of salt. “…We’re watching a movie.”

“Oh, you’re going to the city?” Hideki wonders.

“No, not really—we’re staying in, at her dorm.”

With that, their theories were effectively confirmed.

“Oooooh, her dorm.” Kiyotaka teases. “Is that so?”

“What? What about it?” Naoya scowls, he never liked bringing you into his conversations with his friends for this precise reason—they always seemed to have something to say about you, or his relationship. And like the ever jealous, overprotective man he was, he simply couldn’t allow that!

But as experienced as he proclaimed to be, there were still things he had to learn, such as the obvious intentions behind your suggestion. So they were trying to hint.

“Come on, you can’t be that blind.” The other insists, Naoya’s frown (as well as intrigue) deepens.

“It’s so clear why she’s inviting you to see a movie in her dorm—” Kiyotaka continues.

“If it’s so obvious, then spit it out!” Naoya demands.

“She was to make out, of course! No, actually, I think she wants to do something more.” Hideki proclaims.

“Oh, most definitely! You guys have been dating for what, a few weeks? I’d say it’s long overdue!”

At the prospect, heat spreads across Naoya’s face, heart quickening as he carefully considers their words… before annoyance and jealousy overrules him once more, quick to demean them back, especially after they continue mocking him.

“Not that our virgin friend would know, too busy jacking off to anime girls— probably hasn’t even gotten his first kiss!”

“At least I have a girlfriend, losers!” Is what Naoya scowls before storming out the classroom and into the hallways, just before he did anything that he’d come to regret; their hyena-like laughs disappearing in the distance.

But nonetheless, their work was done, for their words would remain in Naoya’s mind for the rest of the day, those that were of any use of course.

Because jokes often harbored truth behind them.

hhehahehehehhahw

[hyuukais]

Waiting

Finally, after many busy weeks, you’d be getting to see your boyfriend again. Beomgyu was coming home for an entire weekend. However, you were still stuck at the worst part of his return, the waiting.

word count: 1.5k

genres: beomgyu x streamer!reader, slice of life, fluff, insinuations of angst

warnings: language, mentions of executive dysfunction, reader plays zelda specifically botw because i do not have totk 👎👎👎👎

author: FINALLY SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY !! hopefully i will have more content coming soon im just in a major slump atm 😔 also shoutout to @ssunnae & @bobariki sunny and rue thank you both so so much for beta-reading this !!

The colorful LEDs shift along the floorboards, currently a fog of purple misting the floor. Trickles of soft mood music set the low-light room into its sleepy atmosphere. Two large monitors illuminate your face in blue light, aided by a small ring light situated to your left. Amid the calm, an underwhelming rage slowly fizzles up in your throat.

“Oh come on; not right now, please!” The sudden battle music picking up in your headphones sends you into a panic as an enemy health bar appears at the top of the screen. Rain crashes on Link, lightning streaking across in pixels. Your fingers smash around frantically, trying to run away as the Lynel begins to draw its bow.

“Please please please please, don’t-” Unable to draw a weapon or get away, a hard strike lighting descends on the character. The hearts filling the top left of the screen go dark.

“God-fuck!” Red light blinds your eyes with the large “Game Over” fading onto the screen. Your head slams down onto the desk, the top of it all that’s left in view of the camera. The long-winded groan that leaves you is still picked up well by your mic. Chat messages fly fast along your monitor; many expressing their simple sympathy for your defeat, others instead laughing at the situation.

Slowly drawing yourself back up, you catch on the monitor displaying the stream and take a moment to look at everything. “Man…I know I said today was only gonna be Zelda but…this is already the 7th time I’ve died.” Your words trail into a whining laugh. More comments flood the chat. Some call out your terrible playing, some suggest other ideas for the rest of the stream, and many are just extremely off-topic.

“I’m not usually this bad! I don’t know what’s happening to me.” You were out of it today, unfocused, and part of you knew why. “I guess…I dunno, I think I’m just tired!”

This space-y feeling had been following you all day. It was the sort of distance your brain felt when experiencing executive dysfunction. Stuck in a loop of boredom; waiting for something, anything. Struggling to do anything, but still wanting to. Oftentimes, it was hard to discern a particular reason for the feeling, maybe burnout or simply worms in your brain. Today, however, you could easily guess the reason. Today, there was something to wait for. After more than a few weeks apart, Beomgyu would finally be coming over.

You and your boyfriend were both busy people; both public figures in your own right. Although, his schedule as an idol was arguably stricter than yours as a streamer. Between the end of the North America leg of the tour, preparing for their Japanese comeback, and the new single, you hadn’t seen Beomgyu face-to-face in close to a month. It was like spending a month in hell. A month without having his hands in yours, body wrapped in your arms, lips painting your skin, heartbeat beneath your fingers; the reminders that he was real and he was all yours. So, now that you’ll finally get him all to yourself for a whole weekend, your brain was searching for any way to skip to having him back in your arms. Hence, why Link has died more than five times by your incompetence.

“Maybe-uh-why don’t we switch gears? Maybe Zelda was a bad idea.” Considering your head space, streaming today in general may not have been the best of your ideas; you still felt bad for skimping out on a regularly scheduled stream. You also kind of hoped streaming would give you some distraction from sitting by the front door like a puppy.

You click around, filling the screen up with your face as you exit the game. “Hmm…what about…animal crossing? Minecraft? Thoughts, chat?”

You watched message after message fly by, all varying that you don’t actually reach a consensus with them.

“I think…hmm…” You watch a moment more, “Okay, I think we’re gonna do Minecraft.”

Once again, your face cam is moved to the corner as your PC feed takes up the stream. The ambient music takes over for your voice, filling up the silence as things load. Grass blocks and wood load in first before the sudden appearance of buildings. You spawn near a small farm you last left off building.

This wasn’t the world you usually streamed from; preferring the action a survival world provided for content. Actually, this was a world you’d created and built with Gyu, and some of the other members much after you invited them. Although, your audience didn’t need to know any of that. “I’m just going to stick to creative this time, chat. Something…calmer, y’know.”

Soon enough, you find yourself sinking into a rhythm with the music. You keep working on the farm you left unfinished, fixing it up with the build of a greenhouse. Little commentary is provided; small tidbits here and there as you casually speak to yourself. Humming to the music at times and finding some focus on small tasks.

Your headspace shifting from inattentive to hyper-fixated, you’re not particularly tuned into any noise besides what’s pumping in your head. Perhaps that’s why you don’t notice the usual creak of the hallway floorboards or the awful squeaking of your office door. You don’t even see all of the chat messages taking note of those very things. Rarely looking away from the game, there’s no note in your mind of the torso slowly creeping up behind your chair; head just out of camera view, hands sneaking up to your headset.

It’s sudden, the relieving of pressure against your ears, the disappearance of your soft tunes, the realization that there is a person in your home and they are standing behind you.

Your scream is shrill and unending. The whiplash from how fast your turn around would have your head spinning if not for the new pumps of adrenaline coursing through you.

There, standing behind you, wearing the stupidest little cocky smile, is the cause of all your problems. Beomgyu was smart enough to keep his face just outside of the camera, hiding his identity from any viewers. Still, with pretty much the rest of him in frame, this is the largest glimpse your audience has ever gotten of your boyfriend. The chat reacts accordingly to such a realization.

You scramble around to mute your microphone and cover your camera; cutting off your connection as more and more chat messages fly faster along the screen. Nothing else matters though, as you spin your chair around to face the man looking down at you. He’s smiling still, eyes crinkled up and lips split wide. The way you leap at him sends him stumbling back.

Beomgyu’s hands come to cradle your back as you take him in your arms; feel him, his heat, his breath, the shake in his chest when he chuckles. His head settles upon yours. You squeeze his middle tighter and tighter and take in the depth of his scent. Head pressed against his chest, his heart beats softly in your ear.

“That…” You pull yourself away to get a look at his face, “was mean.”

He laughs as you slap at his arm; languorously boisterous, infectious with the happiness of his simple presence. A smile breaches your cheeks, soon enough, as well. Beomgyu’s hands tickle along your waist; keep you close, skin touching skin.

“It was a surprise.”

“More like a jumpscare!”

“Same difference.” His breath brushing your skin all this time finally comes ever closer. Douses you in his everything. A sweet peck on your lips, interrupted by a smile and a whisper. “I missed you.”

The fire of his words floods the pit of your stomach. His lips were barely pulled away from yours and yet that was too far. Your hands cupping his cheeks, pull him closer, filling your space with his. Breaths mingling with heavy words.

“I missed you, too.” You bring his mouth to yours; sway in his presence and feeling. Almost pulling away before more. “So much.”

Head tilted back, chest pressed into his, lips meeting in reverie. Beomgyu’s arms encase your waist; your fingers twirl in his hair. So soft, delicate, fluffy—so like him. Such is the kiss. Deep and sweet, nothing further than adoration. It’s intoxicating sugar; he’s delicious and addicting. His taste sticks to your lips as they leave his. Eyes still fluttered shut, taking in the disappearing feeling.

“I…have to finish off my stream.” You can barely stand to push him away, losing the soft brush of his thumb beneath the hem of your shirt, “You get yourself situated and I’ll be right there.”

The pout on his lips is nothing short of goading after losing your kiss. Still, he responds, although not without an eye roll. “Okay, but if you’re not done in 10 minutes, I get to choose the movie tonight!”

He plants a quick peck on your cheek before leaving you in the office. You have to laugh at how proud he is of that challenge as if you weren’t going to let him pick anyways. Though now, you may just have to get your own bit of payback and not leave him waiting.

© HYUUKAIS 2023

[bokutosbabe]

Oh please, can I request the first time s/o rubs her nose against tecchou’s nose?

You don’t have an idea how I love tecchou’s fluff, like, everyone agrees he’s the most affectionate guy😭how I love my baby

AAHFSHSHSVSV I LOVE TECCHOU SM THIS IS SO CUTE. i had a pretty bad mental health week recently so i’m sorry for not finishing this earlier!!

nose to nose–

tecchou suehiro x gn! reader

a/n – this ask was too cute and i actually sobbed bc i love tecchou more than words can describe 🫶🏼

content – tecchou fluff, fem! reader, really just cute relationship type stuff, tecchou calls reader ‘sweetheart’ and ‘ my love ’ ,added backstory for absolutely no reason,i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis – cute lil nose bumps with tecchou :)

when tecchou had first met you, he didn’t understand why his stomach felt so queasy. was it the soy sauce he’d put in his coffee? no. it couldn’t be that– he’d drank it many times before, so what was different about today?

you–a new addition to the hunting dogs– you were the only new thing about today. his daily rituals of working out during meetings, going on his own little adventures after getting a mission done a little too quickly; all of that would now be thrown off balance because you were here.

this feeling in his stomach would go away sooner or later

or– that’s what he’d thought.

even then; two months after you’d arrived into their little group of strangely strong super freaks, the weird queasiness never subsided within tecchous stomach.

the way you smiled at jouno made his stomach churn in a way that could only be described as anger, but why would he get upset over two of his coworkers just chatting? he wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, so he went to the one member of the hunting dogs who hadn’t been so wrapped up in their space; tachihara.

tecchou went up to the fake ginger and asked him simply about why his stomach burned every time you were around him, yet it also burned with anger when you talked to anyone that wasn’t him.

“i dunno man, sounds like you like her to me-”the other male shrugged. which led to tecchou realizing that he did, in fact, like you.

and that’s what led to now, three months after tecchou had so bravely walked up to you the same day he’d found out that he actually liked you and asked you for “the honor of being his girlfriend” and who were you to tell the (arguably) cutest hunting dog no?

the two of you were sat on your couch, watching another stupid movie that tecchou had picked out. he refused to watch any high tense hostage or action movies; insisting that he “hated people getting tortured for no reason”

you’d been staring at your boyfriend for the past two minutes, trying to telepathically tell him that you absolutely did not want to watch this movie anymore, but he obviously couldn’t get your wavelengths.

the male kept shoving his face full of his buttered popcorn mixed with mustard– something that had his breath smelling disgusting and you avoiding every kiss he’d tried giving you.

“ ‘hiroooo ” you whined out towards your boyfriend, which made him finally turn his attention towards you, popcorn crumbs and mustard stained over his mouth and somehow even on his nose. you could never understand how your boyfriend got so messy while eating; it was a true mystery.

“ yes, my love? ” he’d chirped out, titling his hair so his fluffy hair that you could play with for hours upon hours. “can we change it? this is so boring!”you sighed, leaning closer to him, trying to take the remote that was placed on his lap.

“but i like this–”the males words stopped short when you got closer to him. try as he might, tecchou suehiro was the type of man to basically malfunction whenever you got closer to him. his hands found their way to your waist, moving the remote off his lap, causing you to let out a groan. you were so close and of course your puppy of a boyfriend couldn’t realize what you were doing!

the male moved you onto his lap with a ease, looking up at you as you stared down at him,“ you’re so pretty, y/n.”he leaned up, going to kiss you. and even though you loved your boyfriend, you weren’t going to kiss his popcorn and mustard filled mouth.

you slightly turned, shaking your head before putting your forehead on his, rubbing your nose against his. and let me tell you, tecchou was gobsmacked.

he looked up at you with a small frown, still staying close to you,“my love, do you not want to kiss me?” he asked as you let out a laugh. “you’re breath stinks, ‘hiro. ”

tecchou was never the type to complain, so he’d take the smallest of nose rubs from you, even if it confused him for the first six seconds it had happened.

“ if i go brush my teeth, can i kiss you?” he asked softly

you never did end up getting that remote.

the ending kinda sucked, i’m sorry! but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you!!

[harley-michaels-main]

It's been awhile since I did a tier list but I've been into shojo anime and manga recently so I'm gonna rank my top five.

#5: Ouran High School Host Club

Haruhi Fujioka is recruited to join the host club after she breaks a vase!

Ouran is probably one of the best known shojo animes there is. It's funny, light hearted, adorable, and probably is one of the first reverse harem anime to gain a large fan base. And for being made in the early 2000's, the animation still holds up today.

However, the characters do not. There are a lot of things about this show that just did not age well. While I recommend this series I also recommend taking it with a grain of salt. This was made when certain things were socially acceptable that simply are not today.

That is the only reason I would have it at number 5. Other wise, the cast is great. The plot is hilarious. The pacing is well done. Overall, it's a hilarious and feel good show for when you simply don't want to think about what you're watching.

#4 Kamisama Hajimenmashita

After being kicked out of her apartment due to her father's gambling habits, Nanami Momozono must find her place in this world. But becoming an Earth God? How the hell is she supposed to do that?!

This is the first shojo I watched knowing that it was a shojo. I immediately fell in love with the characters and their dynamics. There's complicated back stories as well for those to like to drive a bit more into characters.

Sadly, the anime was rushed to a finish and a lot of the manga was never adapted. While the anime is still great, the ending just feels wrong without having the full story. The manga is completed and I highly recommend reading it. Yet because of the cancelation, I have to put it at number 4.

#3: Yona Of The Dawn

On her 16th birthday, the sole princess of Kouka, Yona, goes to ask her father to reconsider her marriage proposal to the love of her life. Her love had other plans with her father that night.

This is arguably one of the best shojos out there. With an amazing ploy and some of the best characters ever written, your heart is sure to be captured by this.

There is only one season of this however and it sadly looks like there won't be more any time soon.

The reason for this getting third place isn't because of the anime but actually because I just like the other two more. I love the fantasy setting, but I tend to like it more in shounen than shojo.

#2: My Love Story With Yamada-Kun at level 999

After being cheated on and dumped by her boyfriend over a girl he met in a game, Akane Kinoshita sets out to get revenge! By going to an irl game event and make him realize what he's missing out on! If only her luck with shoes was better.

This is a very new shojo with the first season just wrapping up a couple weeks ago. However, the manga has been going strong since 2019 and I have loved every minute of it. Thus has some of the best characters I have ever seen and it just continues to get better. It's also the type of shojo where we get to see the couple progress their relationship as a couple which is amazing.

I will say there are some... spicier bits in the manga so beware of that if it's not your thing. (Nothing explicit is shown)

However we get to see progression from te side characters as well which is also amazing. I love every moment of this and it had me squealing and kicking my feet like a little girl.

#1: Horimiya

The queen bee and the loner realize that maybe they can be their true selves around each other.

This is my all time favorite. I read the manga, watch the og anime, watched the remake, and the missing pieces. I love this story so much.

It portrays realistic relationships and shows that both of the main characters have faults that they work through in their relationship. Not just that, but the side characters get a lot of development as well that makes you rooting for them.

This whole story is so wholesome and it's the perfect thing to unwind to.

[justalildumpling]

chapter 33: you and me

wc: 2.3k

Red.

The colour that enveloped Donghyuck's brain causing him to fixate his attention towards the makeshift dance floor. 

For some reason, everything that had spiralled over the past few months didn't seem to matter to him anymore. From the possibility of you being the admirer or the way you had been ignoring him for the past few days, were all erased from his mind. In fact, the only thing that seemed to matter was your feelings as he witnessed the scene unfold in front of him.

You were all dressed up pretty in your sparkly white dress with a red solo cup in your hand watching your boyfriend's tongue down another girl's throat. You sat perched on the edge of the large leather couch emotionlessly, sipping on the cheap beer in the middle of the tacky coloured lights in the living room.

Donghyuck stood with his backpack hanging half hazardously over his shoulder, with his feet seemingly stuck in the hallway, a multitude of questions running in and out of his brain.

Why haven't you ripped them apart and slapped him in the face? Why haven't you run out crying yet? What in the world was going through your head?

And man, did that frustrate him. Frustrated that he could not for the life of him decipher your emotions; Hurt? Anger? Betrayal? But more so frustrated that Sunwoo had played with your feelings.

Donghyuck could feel the anger seething from the inside, how could he? The boy who had kissed her oh so lovingly at the same spot on the dance floor was now kissing some other girl without any care in the world.

You were so beautiful, so perfect in his eyes. So the fact that Sunwoo would leave you for another girl baffled him.

He should've confronted you about it from the start, he should've warned you when he had the chance, if he had stopped your relationship from happening then maybe you wouldn't have gotten hurt, maybe you would've been with him instead but he was too late, as he always was.

Donghyuck's hand tightened around the straps of his backpack, eyebrows furrowed as he stormed up behind you. He hastefully grabbed your arm, catching you off guard as you were pulled along by your wrist through the sea of grinding bodies in the living room.

"Wha- Donghyuck!"

Despite your protests and efforts to wiggling out of his grasp, you remained stuck to your best friend.

Though really, were you even surprised?

Throughout the seventeen years you've known Donghyuck, the one trait which stuck out to you the most was his godforsaken stubbornness. Though, you couldn't really complain as it was a trait you both shared.

You couldn't exactly tell whether it was a good or bad thing as this trait was the cause of most of your fights in your friendship. A big example being your exchange abroad, Donghyuck had whined and cried the weeks leading up to your flight, saying that he couldn't live without you and guilt tripped you every moment he had.

But on the other hand, it was the trait which arguably made your friendship the way it is today. With his persistent stubbornness of keeping in contact and FaceTiming everyday, you stayed closer than ever during your years abroad, which ultimately led to your decision to come home for the final years of university.

And now here you were, being dragged out of Sunwoo's house party and probably getting annihilated by whatever he had plotted in his brain.

In what felt like circles around the entirety of the party, Donghyuck eventually led you outside of the house. It was only then you realised how claustrophobic the atmosphere was as you took in the fresh scent of the blooming jacarandas by the side walk.

You stood and stared at the swaying tree branches for a short while, trying to ignore his intense stare at your figure and the stupid way it made your heart feel like it was going to explode.

It took you a few seconds to finally look into his eyes, and what you thought would be a greeting of his usual puppy-like eyes was met with a fiery gaze, fists clenched almost shaking.

Oh, you fucked up.

Was he that angry at you for ignoring him? Was this the end of your friendship forever? Did you need to get on your knees to beg for forgiveness by buying him ice cream for the next two months?

Maybe it was the suffocating silence which irked him or maybe it was the fact that you were acting completely fine after the ordeal which finally made Donghyuck break.

"Look, I led you outside because I was this close to punching the living hell out of Sunwoo."

You blinked a couple times, confusion overriding your panicked state, "Pudu, what the hell is going on?"

Donghyuck's gaze which was once intensely held at the front door, snapped to yours once again.

"Are you kidding me right now? Your boyfriend just kissed another girl in front of you!" He hissed, throwing his hands up in the air.

You shook your head in disbelief, "What on earth are you talking about? What boyfriend?"

"Sunwoo!"

Donghyuck's voice resonated down the empty streets and echoed in your mind. The two of you remained silent for a good minute, with only Donghyuck's heavy breathing filling the thick void.

It was then you felt a light giggle tickling in your throat, breaking the silence once again, "Pudu, he's not my boyfriend, it was a joke that was posted out of context."

Donghyuck stood dumbfounded, the tight grip on his backpack strap loosening before it fell to the concrete path with a thud. As your eyes met with his puzzled ones, the infectious laughter you tried holding back poured out of your lips.

“Why did he kiss you then?” His voice barely audible, cracking a few times, “Why did you let him?”

You weren’t exactly sure why you had let Sunwoo kiss you, maybe it was the alcohol that seeped into your system, maybe it was the heat of the moment or maybe it was because you felt like you owed something to him. Silence had tumbled into your conversation once again, your smile dropping as you failed to provide him with an exact reason.

“Talk to me Y/N, you can’t just do something like that and not explain it.” Donghyuck burst out, grabbing a fistful of his hair, "It's you isn't it?!"

You paused, lips wavering and eyes darting away from him to focus back on the dancing flower branches in the background.

"The letters, it was you wasn't it? I'm not going insane am I?" Donghyuck spoke again, almost desperately as his hands hovered over yours to hold.

This was it, this was the moment. The moment which could change your entire dynamic. You were stepping between the dangerous boundaries of your friendship, a place which you had protected and been terrified to confront for most of your life. 

Maybe it wasn’t too late to lie, to refute every evidence he provided to prove his point, to cackle and wave it off and gaslighting him, telling him he’s crazy and how you would never think of him in that light. 

But, you didn’t, you couldn’t. Not after everything you two had gone through the past few months, all the misunderstandings, the ignorance and the people who got tangled into your web of secrets.

"You're right." You uttered, your eyes hesitantly flickering back onto his, "It was me."

Donghyuck stood speechless for a moment, wondering if the words that you had just uttered were really true. But looking at the way you timidly stood with your fingers trembling in anticipation, he knew that it was indeed real.

“Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you felt the same way. You're my best friend, my platonic soulmate, someone I genuinely cannot live without, and the thought of losing you fucking scared me because…" You halted your words once again, taking a small breath in.

"Because, I love you Lee Donghyuck," You reached out to reciprocate his outstretched hand, "So much that it actually hurts."

He remained quiet, his stare softening at your touch before breaking into his pretty smile, pulling you into his arms by your wrist.

"Thank god," He muffled into your hair, tears threatening to form in the corner of his eyes as he melted into your embrace, "Thank fucking god."

Pulling away from your body, he tentatively cupped your face, bringing your faces closer. It was reminiscent of the day on the steps, the first time you had seen his face up close. The first time you noticed how his lashes fanned out so elegantly, how the tip of his nose turned upwards into the cute button you adored. 

But this time, it was his lips. It was the way he muttered “I love you” against your lips before closing the gap. The way it slotted perfectly against yours, moving in tune with one another, the way his grip on your waist hardened, tugging you closer to his broad figure as if he never wanted to let you go.

"I love you," he repeated, before pecking at the tip of your nose, "I love you so much."

Pure bliss was the only emotion you felt as he kissed you. With every lingering touch, every smile he embraced against your lips, all the doubts of him lying about his feelings faded.

It took a couple tries for you to pull away from his warmth, mostly due to Hyuck refusing to let you go. But knowing that both of you needed oxygen to live, he finally tipped his head back but his eyes never left yours. It was a moment he wanted to cherish for the rest of his life, from the way his confessions flowed out so naturally from his lips to the butterflies which tackled the walls of his chest. 

But it mostly was you, the way your eyes crinkled as your lips were etched into a smile, the way you looked oh so lovingly back at him and the way he knew that you were the one, the one who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Donghyuck felt his heart flutter once again, the kaleidoscope of butterflies escaping his heart and into his stomach. God he had missed seeing your smiling face. He missed your presence, your strange jokes and just you. 

Everything felt almost perfect, you and him exchanging smiles and pleasantries once again, with all the misunderstandings cleared but one overarching question still remained unsolved.

“So what happened with Sunwoo?” He asked, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer to the question.

“Sunwoo told me he liked me,” You quietly stated, your breath shuttering, “Apparently he’s liked me for a while and he asked if he could kiss me so he could to move on.”

You recalled Sunwoo’s words on the dancefloor, the way he pulled you closer to his body with a foreign look of vulnerability in his eyes, the way his grip on your hands tightened as he confessed. 

But most of all, it was his kiss. 

You had witnessed Sunwoo kiss a variety of people in your life, though every time it always seemed to be the same. The same emotions of sexual tension and frustration, the way he gripped onto their shirts roughly and drawing back from them like nothing ever happened.

But for you it was different. It was like a sense of softness, an innocent feeling, no lingering emotions of lust or desperation. It was the way he moved against your lips cautiously, making sure you were okay with everything he was doing, if he was doing it properly, savouring every second until he pulled away with a sad smile, encouraging you to find your supposed other half.

As you began squeezing past the crowded dance floor to reach the hallway, you remembered turning to your best friend one last time, hoping that he would be happily dancing with an unfamiliar face, brushing off the way you had let him down, the way you had broken his heart a few moments back like he always did. 

But instead he stood silently in the midst of the drunken crowd, his eyes never leaving your figure with a smile on his face, not the usual flirty glint or the mischievous smirk he always wore but a genuine smile.

You could feel your tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, heart clutching up in your chest, “I thought that was the least I could do for hurting him.”

“But it doesn’t matter, cause it’ll never change the fact that I fucked up.”

A quiet sob escaped your lips as you covered your face with shaky hands, “I’m sorry Hyuck, I’m sorry for hurting you too, I’m sorry for all the misunderstanding that I caused the past few months, I’m sorry for everything.”

Within seconds you were back in Donghyuck’s arms again, with him softly patting the back of your head as you cried into his chest, “It’s okay love, I forgive you and I’m sure Sunwoo will too.”

The mention of Sunwoo’s name filled your heart with guilt, your eyes welling up in tears once again, “What if he doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore?”

Donghyuck shook his head, raising his hands to cup your face, catching the stray tears with his thumbs, “You trust me don't you?”

You dipped your head in response, with a teary attempt at a smile.

“Everything will be okay Y/N, you just need to talk to him.”

masterlist || previous | next

pairing: haechan x fem! reader

synopsis: it’s no lie that haechan only started his college matchmaking business due to his nosy personality. it’s also no lie that he was a little jealous of everyone he had helped out as he had no love life of his own. well, that was until his childhood friend moved back and mysterious love notes started appearing in his matchmaking inbox… addressed to HIM?!

genre: social media au, college au, fluff, crack, one sided pining, best friends to lovers

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol

note: yeah... i think i went a bit too overboard with the word count when writing this but HAAHHAHA oops

taglist: open! feel free to send an ask or comment to be added :))) ~ @daincty @yipyipmorals @n0hyuck @loveholicness @najaemin138 @kpopwh0r3 @sadisticfries @daegalfangirl @bettyschwallocksyee @pradagukkie @mworkswatermelon @cacaubs @liljeongseong @scftharu @sunflowerhae @theskzvibe @stopeatread @dearlyminhyung @rrnhyuck @rv7hsua @shwizhies @matchahyuck @seobecca @seungjiseyo @butterfliesinthenightsky @squishy-maimon @vantxx95 @aforlornmystery @luvenshiti @shxnz @txtingme @l33j3n8 @fleursxiao @dandelionxgal @hyvckswrld @rinrinslovebot @purenjuniverse @mqrkfrl @y3jiishot  @heavenly-seraphic  @ismileeprnc-responder @jenyoonoh @ckline35 @galacticpurpl3 @tyongspice1 @neosdaisy  @sundamariis @isabelleonabicycle @octubreuno @deehyuck @babyjenono

permanent taglist:  ~ @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @polarisjisung @wooyoung-a @produmads @w3bqrl

[problematicfactive]

they even have factive,,, as a tag,,, I I'm under the assumption that your source is one of various murderers and just having your name doesn't hurt anyone unless the astronomically low likelihood that you join a server with a family member of a victim people are allowed to be uncomfy they have right to their emotions but it's incredibly shitty to make it your problem "proud" homie they're just existing

This is Anxiety's boyfriend. He's a little tired and I wanted to answer one. Hope you don't mind.

We do happen to be based on a murderer.

As the more source connected one, I want to clarify that real life people killing real life people is bad. I happen to be more like my source, thst doesn't mean I condone nonfiction murder.

One thing Anxiety wanted to touch on was victim mentality and I think this ask is a good place to mention it.

First and foremost. Anxietys bot doesn't have his full name, just his first name, whereas mine has my first and last name, so if we were in a server with a family member of a victim, they'd see a picture of a movie portrayal and my first name assuming it's my boyfriend talking (which it normally is) They would still have the right to be upset absolutely, especially if they recognize the portrayal, but I mean like

Before we formed, the system was also made uncomfortable by introjects of this person. We would never say to the face of someone anything like what that person has said to me, but, we are bodily within the minorities that were affected by this man. It can be a little scary.

I bring this up because, had, instead of saying the arguable entitled, "He makes me uncomfortable" the person would have said something along the lines of, "As someone who is POC, it makes uncomfortable" it would have made a lot more sense.

I can't assume anything for any of the three people who were rude to me today, I do not know their races, ages, sexual orientations, their families or anything that could possibly relate them to who my source is based on. What I do know is that they all felt like my presence was attacking them. They felt victimized by me (/my boyfriend). And not once did they give an actual valid reason for that. "He makes me uncomfortable" Talk about the victims. Talk about how your life was affected by being ____ in a post [insert person] world.

By complaining and making this about themselves, all these people are doing is taking attention AWAY from the actual victims and their families.

In my opinion at least.

-NPC

[north-park]

I think the entire. S21 fiasco thing is mostly because the kyheiman "triangle" was written pretty badly, Heidi herself was pushed kinda to the side and them costantly pulled between Kyle and Eric without the narrative geniunely exploring her own side of the situation, even thought the story never really made her into an "object" it still made her a "symbol" of victory, the boy who had her closer was the one winning over the other regardless of romantic sentiments being involved, the story did use her as way to get Kyle and Eric in competition, to get jelaous of the other, which gave "fair" ground for Cartman-poisoned people to just go and say that Kyle never cared about her, that he wanted the "old Cartman" back, all this was only to a way to use Heidi as a victim to save and inflate his dumb savior-complex and that every he did wasn't with good but misguided intentions but with selfish ones because he is a bad person who thrives on ruining lives blah blah i will ruin your fucking life if you say that

I think overral the season wasn't kind to Kyle, being used as catalist for a shitty relationship and then hurting someone else over it isn't a good look on anyone, with arguably no ending to your arc, but there is a reason he was written in that narrative, and it sure isn't getting mad that he isn't the one abused by Cartman as some shipper might say

One scene many, many people tend to forget is the Heidi's first and arguably only attempt to get help for both her and Eric was when she gave Stan a recording of Eric telling her he will kill himself if she leaves him, which kinda implies she wants to break up and is an pretty toxic relationship, she asks because Stan is his friend, he will help him, but instead he, and later on all of his male friends (including Kyle) finds Cartman's threats hilarious, they all laugh in Cartman's face while listening to them, not giving Cartman the attention he wants is generally the correct move on how to deal with his unstable personality, but in this case he isn't the only one suffering, Heidi is in there too and they couldn't care less if she is currently traumatized by her bf, they aren't her friends, they barely even know her, hell they generally tend to act uncaring towards girls anyway, Kyle is included in this because he didn't cared either at first, Cartman is a cruel boyfriend but that's not his problem today

The problem comes when Heidi is completely alone, isolated and unable to understood what she did wrong, the girls, Heidi's friends who do know her, do the same thing as the boys and leave her to cry on her mistakes, this is basically the point Kyle enters in, he isn't doing this for Heidi, he is doing this for himself, he sees in Heidi the same lonely well-meaning kid who tried to help Eric but gets his heart and spirit broken he is, he knows what it feels like to be kick out, feeling misunderstood with no one to rely on, being made to be an idiot or a bad guy, he wants to help Heidi like he wishes to help himself, and that's why he cut things when Heidi became an asshole antisemitist he couldn't relate to anymore, but after all what happened, does this make him a bad person?

I say no, in the end Kyle did try to help Heidi, he believed in her when no one did, he didn't ignored or victim blamed her, he only tried to do the right thing until everyone around him started to screw with his mind harder than Eric did with Heidi, personally I think the canadians deserved to die (even if that was Garrison's fault ANYWAY) for making shitty netflix shows so i can confidently Kyle did nothing

[legitelizabethwwefan]

Hii! May I request sova phoenix and brim angst to comfort/fluff like they accidentally called their s/o "annoying" or they snapped on the reader because of the stress from work.

Thank you for this, anon! I also saw your note about swapping Brimstone for Yoru, but I was too lazy to add that screenshot here lol. I appreciate the request nonetheless. Also, I decided to write this not in a typical imagine way because it was easier for me. Hope that’s all alright. Enjoy everyone!

If you want to request anything, you can do so here.

Word count: 802

Warnings: Brief mention of sex.

The Toll of Stress - Phoenix, Sova, Yoru x General Reader

Phoenix:

Phoenix has a bit of a short fuse when it comes to stress; it doesn’t take long for him to reach his limits.

Frustrations during training will add to his stress, as well as if a mission goes awry for one reason or another.

He won’t talk about it to you because he doesn’t want to worry you.

One day, you two are wrapping up a mission where Phoenix managed to hurt himself through his carelessness. Fortunately, you remained unscathed.

When you try to treat Phoenix’s minor injuries, he snaps and insists that you’e annoying him by trying to help out.

The anger in his voice shocks you so much that you stop treating his injuries and return to headquarters in silence.

You go to your apartment alone, angry and upset at your boyfriend’s behaviour towards you.

A while later, Phoenix knocks on your door with a pained expression on his face.

You reluctantly let him in, where he profusely apologizes for snapping at you the way he did.

Phoenix explains that he felt awful for getting injured in such a reckless way and thought that you were treating him out of pity.

You insist that that wasn’t the case and that you wanted to treat his injuries because you care about him.

Phoenix kisses you and insists that he’ll try to not snap at you again out of frustration.

The two of you cuddle for the rest of the day in between sharing kisses.

Sova:

Sova is arguably the most patient agent in the Protocol. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have a limit.

He’s often Brimstone’s go-to agent for a majority of missions due to how good he is at his job.

Going out on so many missions took a toll on Sova both mentally and physically- and it was beginning to show.

When you visit Sova’s apartment to see him after he returns from yet another mission, you gently voice your concerns about him overworking himself.

Sova snaps at you, saying that he’s fine and that he doesn’t need you to worry over him.

You insist that you were only worried, but Sova argues that it’s unnecessary.

Both of you end up going to bed angry at one another.

The next morning, you wake up to find the bed empty.

You find Sova outside, physically exhausted from working so much.

He can’t sleep because he’s upset over snapping at you the previous night.

He apologizes for what he said, explaining that going out on so many missions recently has left him burnt out.

He doesn’t want you to worry about him despite his current demeanour.

You tell him that you’ll always worry about him because you love and care for him deeply.

You remind him to take time for himself because he truly deserves it.

Sova promises to do so and apologizes again for how he behaved yesterday.

The two of you kiss before you both return to bed to get some much-needed sleep, since you happen to have a day off today.

Cuddling in bed helps remove any remaining tension between you two as you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Yoru:

Out of all the agents in the Protocol, Yoru has the shortest temper for sure.

It doesn’t take much for anyone or anything to make him snap.

He has more patience for you as his partner, but only just.

You and Yoru had been sent on a particularly taxing mission to Ascent, which turned out to be barely successful.

Yoru is upset how that despite you two accomplishing what had to be done.

He abruptly remarks that he had gone on a mission with someone else.

This comment upsets you, so you storm off to your apartment as soon as you two return to headquarters.

Yoru catches up with you a short time later, annoyed that you had walked away from him without saying another word.

You angrily remind him of his upsetting comment after the mission had wrapped up.

Yoru immediately feels bad and apologizes, saying that he meant he wished more people had come along on the mission.

He swears up and down that he appreciated your help during the mission, but that you two simply didn’t have enough man power for what was needed.

You accepted Yoru’s apology, seeing how upset he is with himself over what he said to you in anger.

He goes so far as to say that you’re his favourite person to go on a mission with.

He begs you not to tell anyone that, which you solemnly swear to keep to yourself.

Yoru kisses you before insisting on some make-up sex to resolve this for good.

You agree to the make-up sex without hesitation, happy to be on the same page as your boyfriend once again.

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

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

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

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

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

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

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

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy 

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

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

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

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

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

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

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

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

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

“Guess, Sherlock.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

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

“HEY!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

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

“You were not--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fishnets have a point! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

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

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

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

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

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

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

the bis won

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

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

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

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

queen stop its embarrassing

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

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

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

it’s happening!!!! 

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

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

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

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

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

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

It’s a knife.

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

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

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

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

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

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

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

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

“A knife.”

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

“Yes.”

“No!”

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

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it because you’re bald?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

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

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

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

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

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

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“SHIT!”

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

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

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

“I’d never do that, baby.”

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, she does.” James chimes.

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

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

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

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

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

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

[mandoalorian]

Ok ok ok. You know I have to request this, after last night's yearning. Javi Peña coming home late one night from work, to find you sat at the table pretty much asleep after you've stayed up studying or just overall waiting for him. And just have this beautiful man carry you to bed, ever so gently as not to wake you up. Just being an overall softy. 💙

You're wonderful rach 😗

ready and willing

(Javier Peña x F!Reader)

Warnings: 18+ smut; consensual somnophilia, female receiving oral, fingering, male receiving oral, handjob, pre-established relationship, implied age difference, exam stress

Word count: 3,000

Authors note: Omfg this got so shamelessly dirty… I hope that’s okay! Definitely a lot of sweet and soft Javier in this one-shot though. If you enjoyed reading then please consider reblogging, as reblogs support me the most! You can also find my masterlist pinned on my blog.

Finals week was approaching, and fast.

It was your last year in college, and arguably your most important. There you were, sat at the dining room table in your boyfriend’s apartment, surrounded by stacks of academic books and miscellaneous piles of paper. You looked up at the ticking wall clock that read 7:15pm. It wasn’t terribly late, but you’d been studying all day and well, you were exhausted.

You rubbed your tired eyes and let out a yawn before trying to fixate on the book in front of you. ‘Just try and finish this chapter, you’re nearly done. Finish this chapter and you can go to bed.’ you told yourself, determined to get to the end of the topic you’d been studying for the past two hours.

You read the first sentence of the chapter but struggled to even retain the words. You yawned and made a second attempt to re-read the sentence, but your brain was mush and all you could think about was crawling into your soft plush bed and falling asleep.

You checked the clock again and only three minutes had passed. Time was going agonisingly slow. But you remembered how Javier, your boyfriend, promised he’d be home before 8pm tonight, and it was already pushing 7:20. And you’d missed him today.

In fact, you missed him everyday. He’d been coop-ed up in the office for the past week, working early mornings and late nights. They finally got a lead on Escobar, after months of following cold trails. It was a big deal, and you were so proud of him, but that didn’t mean it was easy when he hadn’t been around to help ease you during exam season.

He gave you a reason to stay awake.

You rubbed your puffy red eyes once more, and fixated back on your book. The text was small and the lines were close together and your mission to finish the chapter was beginning to feel impossible. ‘Cmon, you can do this.’ you continued to tell yourself.

You don’t remember what happened next. Somewhere along the line, you must have passed out from exhaustion.

You’d really tried to stay awake, but sleep had gotten the better of you.

Javier came home just shy of 8pm, like he’d promised. He dropped his keys in a ceramic bowl that he kept by the front door and called your name, signalling that he’d returned. He practically froze when he entered the dining room, and saw you fast asleep.

Your head was buried in the book you’d tried so hard to finish, and your hair was messily sprawled out amongst the abundance of worksheets. Your breathing was shallow and your gentle snores echoed throughout the room. Javier felt his heart blossom in his chest, just at the sight of you. You looked so peaceful and calm, the complete opposite of the hectic day he’d had at work.

“Cariño?” he whispered, giving you a slight poke. He pushed your hair out of your face and noticed you’d even drooled a little on your book. You were completely flat out, and Javier knew there was no point in even trying to wake you up.

He watched you momentarily, wondering how he was even going to get you into bed if he couldn’t pick you up. He certainly wasn’t going to leave you slumped over the dining room table, that’s for sure. He circled around the table a few times, tidying away your notebooks and pens, before finally pulling out your chair.

You stirred slightly at the movement, and whispered his name in a hushed tone. “Javi?”

Your eyes remained closed and Javier knelt down, wrapping his strong arms around your torso and lifting you up. A small gasp escaped your lips when you realised you were no longer sitting in the uncomfortable hardwood chair, but instead, being carried bridal style by your sweet boyfriend.

“I’m here baby,” Javier assured. “Taking you to bed, okay?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Mm but— my work and—“

“No,” Javier cut you off as he carried you down the hall. “Bed.”

“M’okay.” You hummed, curling into his warm, broad chest. There was no point in arguing with him when you were this comfortable in his arms.

Javier chuckled slightly, knowing that if you were more awake, you would’ve put up fight, insisting that you had to stay up and finish your work. But like hell he was going to let you do that. The muscles in his back ached as he kicked open the bedroom door. His lips curled into a deep-set frown, knowing that the pains in his back were just a reminder of how old he was getting.

Javier places you down on your bed and you hummed with contentment, relishing the feeling of the 80s satin sheets beneath you.

“Missed you,” you rasped out, a small but tired smirk playing on your lips.

And oh how Javier missed you too. He stood at the foot of the bed, admiring the way your body was spread out amongst his blankets and pillows. You looked so beautiful. A real life sleeping beauty. Then, you yawned dramatically, stretching your arms above your head and opening your legs.

“Can you help me?” you asked your boyfriend. “Take my clothes off? I can’t sleep in these jeans.”

Javier pouted. The tight stretch of your denim drove him insane; but in the best way. He began to feel his own erection, trapped in the confines of his pants. Of course he couldn’t say no to you.

He got onto his knees and hovered over you, carefully unbuttoning your blouse. He wanted to be gentle, especially since you were so tired. Javier worked his dexterous fingers all the way down the material and pulled open the silk, revealing your soft skin that was basking in the amber glow of his bedside lamp.

Before long, your clothes had been discarded into a messy pile the floor and Javier’s eyes were burning into your naked body. You tossed and turned slightly, mumbling incoherent words as you fell back asleep.

You wanted to dream about him. You’d missed him so much, you wanted to dream about his touch; his hands caressing you, gliding across the curves of your breast and the soft flesh of your thigh.

Javier couldn’t help himself. He gently pushed open your legs and knelt down by the edge of the bed, starting to press wet kisses up your calf. You hummed with contentment, your dreams and reality turning into a haze.

This was something you and Javi had tried before— multiple times. It was something you had discussed months ago; back when Javier was working late nights at the office. He’d come home to you being fast asleep in his bed, and he’d fuck you fast and hard until you were wide awake and cumming all around him.

You were so pretty when you were sleeping. He just couldn’t resist the urge.

As he worked his way up your legs, he noticed the way your cunt began to glisten with arousal. Smirking to himself, he leaned in and licked a stripe between your folds. Even when you were asleep, you still were horny as hell for Javier. He found it endearing though.

“Fuck princesa, you taste so sweet.” Javier groaned longingly, gathering your juices on his tongue. As he dexterously flicked it over your bundle of nerves, your entire body desperately jolted into him and a tired whimper left your lips.

“Oh Javi,” despite your eyes being closed, there was no denying the smile that crossed your soft lips. He was always so good at this. “Just like that, don’t stop.” you pleaded with him. Your voice was small and, timid, almost.

As far as you were aware, this was all a dream.

Javier usually enjoyed a little bit of edging and teasing, but not tonight. You looked so beautiful sleeping on his bed and taking his tongue. Tonight was all about taking care of you. He pulled away from you briefly and kissed down your thigh before checking on you again.

“More,” you mouthed, your hand travelling to the back of his head to pull on his brown locks of hair.

“So desperate,” Javier commented with a chuckle, his mustache tickling your skin as he grazed his way back up to your dripping core. He swore he’d never seen anyone has perfect as you.

“Mm need you, need more,” you begged as his tongue circled around your clit.

“What do you need?” Javier asked. “Use your words.” he prompted.

“Need—ah,” you winced with pleasure when Javier changed his action and began sucking on your sweet spot. “Need, need,” you felt your self clenching around nothing, and you knew if you just had something inside of you, you’d be able to cum. “Need… need you… inside of me,” you choked out. “P—please.”

“Oh baby, why didn’t you just say so?” Javi cooed, and without any warning, he plunged his two thick fingers inside of you. They slipped in you so easily and a Javier couldn’t help but grin wickedly. “Look how wet you are.”

Your boyfriend felt so good. He always did. But you couldn’t help but wonder about him, and wonder just how hard he was under those denim jeans. He was resisting it all just so he could focus on pleasuring you; but he didn’t realise that his pleasure was your pleasure. You wanted him to feel good too.

Javier knew how to work his golden touch on you. He had practiced on many occasions, after all. He pushed his fingers as deep as they could go and began to curl them inside of you, with every thrust hitting your g-spot. But still, you craved for more.

You could cum like this, sure. In fact, you felt your orgasm build up increasingly by the second, but still, you wanted more of him. You wanted to feel the ridges and veins of his cock inside of you, creating the perfect friction against your walls. You wanted the close proximity of your bodies together and you wanted to feel his breath warm your neck as he fucked you into the next morning. Javier made the hairs on your body stand tall with chills, and he made your toes curl with pleasure. There was nobody else quite like him.

Suddenly, you felt a gush of white noise surround you and you became hyper-aware of the squelching noises that echoed throughout the bedroom. Usually you’d be slightly embarrassed, but you knew how much Javier got off from the sound of your cunt; especially knowing that it was all because of him.

He pushed you over the edge, and you felt your sensitive hole flutter around his two fingers as you came down from your high. He was breathless too, just from watching you and admiring your beauty.

By now, you were fully awake. You opened your eyes and offered him a smile before sitting up onto your knees.

“I love you Javi,” you reminded him softly, wrapping your hands around his neck and brushing your nose against his. You manouvered your one of your hands along his chest and discarded his button-down shirt somewhere on the floor.

“I love you too herm—oh,” he cut himself off with growl when you slid your hand down to his bulge and began to cup his balls through the material of his jeans.

You giggled playfully and looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Your turn,” you told him softly, unzipping his pants and pulling them down his ass.

He was going commando, which was typical ofcourse.

“Baby… you don’t have to do this. You can just… go back to sl—oh fuck.” he hissed through his teeth as you spat in your hands and wrapped your fingers around his thick manhood.

He was already leaking, which was no surprise. He’d gotten him worked up from the moment he carried you into bed. The head of his cock was red and desperate for attention. Rubbing at his base, you teasingly licked a line along his slit before pushing your mouth onto him.

You could never fit the entirety of him in your mouth, he was far too big— bigger than you’d ever taken before. But Javier didn’t mind one bit. He liked the combination of your mouth and your hands, as much as you liked the combination of his mouth and his hands.

A string of curses fell from his lips as you pumped his cock, nothing but his grunts and wet noises filling the airy bedroom.

You could feel his cock twitch in your mouth and his one hand that was holding the back of your head tightened and began to pull on your hair. “Fuck cariño, please, I’m close— I don’t think— I— not— gonna— last,” he growled out in warning.

You simply hummed acknowledgment before pulling off him with a popping sound and licking your lips. Your hand was still wrapped around his girth though and you kept pumping at him.

“Look at me,” you requested, and watched as Javier’s chocolate brown eyes fluttered open. “I want you to cum in my mouth.”

Javier’s groan that followed your words was desperately loud. His cock was now slick and wet with your saliva.

“O-okay,” Javier agreed. “Open your mouth princesa.”

You obeyed his instruction and knelt there, doe-eyed and mouth wide, ready to take his load. It came in seconds, and Javier spilt his salty seed all over your face.

“There you go,” Javier moaned softly, almost to himself. “That’s a good girl.” he praised before pulling away from you and examined your face.

He cupped your cheek and looked you dead in the eyes. “You’re so pretty.” he said, and you felt yourself warm up with more desire.

Then, without warning, Javier took his index finger and gathered the bits of cum that hadn’t quite reached your mouth. Wiping his juices from your face, he stuck the finger into your mouth and you began to suck on it as if it was by reflex.

Javier watched you intently, already feeling himself get turned on again from the mere image of yoi sucking on his finger.

“You always taste so good baby,” you hummed around him.

Javier knelt down and pressed a kiss to your head.

“I think we need to get you cleaned up properly,” he whispered, trailing his kisses down to your ear and biting on your lobe. “How about… we continue this in the shower?” he proposed with a smirk on his face.

You giggled and nodded your head in agreement, before Javier took your hand and whisked you away to the bathroom.

This was certainly the best way to finish a day of hard work and studying.

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