#basically this friend i have who is....an enigma

[our-lady-of-mcr]

yet again wondering when ill realize that certain people do not change and are always going to try to fuck me up ):

[nickeverdeen]

Hi could you do a five hargreeves x female!reader where reader is normal and doesn't have powers but she's a genius and basically has a photographic memory, and she meets five and he's a bit mean and snarky but eventually he starts to fall for her

I also think it would be funny if she was kinda best friends with Klaus and he kinda teases her about five, but you don't have to include that

Guns And Brains | Five Hargreeves x genius fem!reader

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Klaus Hargreeves x fem!reader (best friend)

Warning: None

PS: Sorry for the unoriginal title

———————————

You were used to being the smartest person in the room. It wasn’t arrogance; it was simply a fact. Your photographic memory allowed you to absorb and recall information with an almost eerie accuracy. In school, you never needed to study, and in life, you rarely encountered a problem you couldn’t solve. You had grown accustomed to the bemused looks and occasional irritation that came from people who found your talents either intimidating or annoying.

Yet here you are, standing in the middle of an ancient-looking mansion, face-to-face with a boy who exuded an air of superiority that rubbed you entirely the wrong way. Five Hargreeves—if you remembered correctly from the vague mentions in tabloids about the dysfunctional Umbrella Academy—was a strange, prodigious enigma. He looked like a teenager, but there was something in his eyes that suggested he was anything but.

From the moment Klaus had introduced you, you could sense the tension brewing. It wasn’t just the way Five had narrowed his eyes at you, or the clipped tone he used when addressing you. It was the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken assertion that he was smarter, quicker, better. The way he practically dared you to prove him wrong.

“Who’s this?” Five had asked, his tone flat and disinterested, as if your presence was more of an inconvenience than anything else.

“This is Y/N,” Klaus had said cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the storm clouds brewing between them. “She’s got a brain like a supercomputer—remember everything she’s ever read, seen, or heard. Thought she might be able to help us out.”

Five’s eyes had flickered with something—annoyance, skepticism, you couldn’t quite tell. “We don’t need help,” he’d said brusquely. “Especially not from someone who thinks they can waltz in and solve problems that are far beyond their understanding.”

And there it was—the gauntlet thrown down. You had felt your spine stiffen, your own competitive streak flaring up in response. You didn’t like the way he assumed you were just some book-smart outsider with no practical experience, especially when he hadn’t even given you a chance to prove otherwise.

“I’m not here to solve your problems,” you replied, your tone sharp. “But from what I’ve heard, you could use all the help you can get.”

Klaus had tried to mediate, sensing the tension. “Alright, kids, play nice. We’re all on the same team here.”

But you had seen the look in Five’s eyes—a mix of condescension and irritation. He clearly didn’t think much of you, and that was something you weren’t about to let slide. If there was one thing you despised, it was being underestimated.

The first few days in the mansion were… interesting, to say the least. Klaus had introduced you to the rest of the siblings, all of whom had their own unique quirks and issues. Luther was stoic and serious, Allison was kind but guarded, Diego was intense, and Viktor was quiet, almost withdrawn. They were an odd bunch, but in some ways, you felt more at ease with them than you did with Five.

Five, on the other hand, seemed determined to make you feel unwelcome. Whenever you offered a suggestion, he’d shoot it down without a second thought. When you tried to engage him in a discussion about the theories he was working on, he’d dismiss your opinions with a wave of his hand, as if your thoughts were nothing more than background noise.

It was infuriating.

At first, you tried to stay calm. Your reminded yourself that you were here to help, not to butt heads with a stubborn man who had likely seen more in his lifetime than you could ever imagine. But as the days passed, you found your patience wearing thin.

The breaking point came one evening when you were all gathered around the dining table, discussing the latest anomaly that Five was trying to unravel. He was pacing back and forth, spouting off calculations and theories at a rapid pace. The others were listening intently, but you could see the confusion in their eyes.

“Maybe if we adjusted the parameters slightly,” you suggested, your tone measured, “we could account for the temporal flux and—”

Five cut you off with a snort. “That’s a ridiculous idea. Adjusting the parameters would only destabilize the entire equation. You clearly don’t understand the complexities of time travel.”

Your jaw clenched. “And you clearly don’t understand the value of listening to other people’s input. Just because you’ve traveled through time doesn’t mean you know everything.”

Five stopped pacing and turned to face you, his expression cold. “I’ve spent decades—decades—working on these equations. You’ve been here for a week. Don’t presume to know more than I do.”

The room went silent. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but you didn’t back down. You were tired of Five’s arrogance, tired of him treating you like you were some naive child who had wandered into his domain.

“Maybe I don’t know more than you,” you said, your voice steady. “But I’m not an idiot, and I’m not going to stand here and let you treat me like one. If you’re so confident in your theories, then why not test them? Or are you afraid that someone else might actually have a better idea?”

Five’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, his tone icy. “Let’s test it. And when it fails, you can stop wasting our time with your half-baked theories.”

You didn’t respond. You simply nodded and turned your attention back to the problem at hand, determined to prove him wrong.

The next few days were tense, to say the least. You and Five worked together, but it was clear that neither of you were happy about it. Every interaction was laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults. Yet, beneath the hostility, there was a grudging respect forming, though neither of you would admit it.

Despite his arrogance, you couldn’t help but be impressed by Five’s intellect. He was brilliant, there was no denying that. His mind worked at a speed that rivaled your own, and his knowledge of temporal mechanics was unmatched. But he was also infuriatingly stubborn, refusing to consider any idea that wasn’t his own.

For his part, Five found himself both annoyed and intrigued by you. You were smart—smarter than he’d initially given you credit for. Your insights were often sharp and on point, even if he was loath to admit it. But what bothered him the most was how you challenged him, pushing back against his authority in a way no one else dared to. It was unsettling, and yet… he found himself drawn to it.

One afternoon, as you were pouring over another set of calculations, you suddenly spoke up.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, not looking up from the paper in front of you.

“Dangerous,” Five muttered under his breath, but there was no real bite to his words.

You ignored him. “You’re right about the temporal flux destabilizing if we adjust the parameters too much. But what if we didn’t adjust them directly? What if we introduced a stabilizing agent that could counterbalance the fluctuations?”

Five paused, considering your words. It wasn’t a completely ridiculous idea. In fact, it was… interesting. But he wasn’t about to let you know that.

“It’s a long shot,” he said instead, his tone dismissive.

“Maybe,” you conceded. “But it’s worth a try. Unless you have a better idea?”

Five scowled, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine. We’ll try it your way. But don’t get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

As you worked together, there was a noticeable shift in the air between you two. The barbs were still there, but they were less sharp, the insults less cutting. It was as if you were beginning to acknowledge each other as equals—rivals, perhaps, but with a mutual respect that was slowly, begrudgingly, forming.

Weeks passed, and the initial tension between you and Five began to ease, replaced by a rhythm of sorts. You still bickered, still challenged each other at every turn, but there was a camaraderie in it now. A strange, twisted camaraderie, but camaraderie nonetheless.

The others noticed it too. Klaus, in particular, found endless amusement in your interactions, often teasing you about your “little crush” on Five.

“Admit it,” Klaus says with a grin. “You two are just one good argument away from kissing.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comments, but you couldn’t deny that there was a certain… tension between you and Five. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. The last thing you wanted was to give Five the satisfaction of knowing he got under your skin in more ways than one.

But the turning point came one evening, when you were working late in the mansion’s library. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft rustle of papers as you pored over your latest set of equations. You were focused, your mind fully absorbed in the problem at hand, when you felt a pair of eyes on you.

You looked up, only to find Five watching you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Five hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “You’re not as annoying as I thought you were.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but coming from Five, it was close enough. You felt a small smile tug at your lips. “You’re not as unbearable as I thought you were either.”

Five’s lips quirked up in the faintest hint of a smile. “High praise.”

You fell into a comfortable silence after that, the tension between you two shifting into something else. Something neither of you were quite ready to name.

[sereh624]

redacted characters w kids 💥💥

not to be mistaken for dad!redactedboys

david :

gets clung to at every pack event. something about the nonchalant, reserved man with the cute partner who gives them candy is extremely alluring. he’ll be sat in a chair, arms crossed with a “😒” expression as he has like 4 toddlers screaming in his ears, pulling on his hair, little hands iron-clad around his arms.

asher :

is “the fun one”, but not in the way he would have liked. the pack children definitely bag on him (obviously lovingly), milo acting as their little (literally) leader. outside of the teasing, asher is truly well-loved amongst the children.

milo :

picks fights w the teenagers LMAO. he sees them like a different species; how could someone be so intelligent yet incapable of basic manners and maturity? it makes his head spin. at the end of every argument (which he inevitably loses, because he is arguing with pre-teens who don’t quite grasp his large words yet), milo will be rambling to sweetheart during the car ride home about how he was never like that (he most certainly was).

darlin :

unlike milo, they get along well with the teenagers. it's a mix of their relatability and strong sense of personal justice, which aligns closely with them. unfortunately, the curse of having an older southern partner is all too real, so their name in their phones in meemaw/peepaw. it made their eyes roll the first time they saw it.

sam :

while i don't think he'd be super popular amongst the pack kids, he'd definitely be a safe space for the quieter teens to hang around. sam doesn't speak to them unless spoken to, which they like. every pack gathering, sam will have like two teens glued to their phones just following him around, avoiding smalltalk.

porter :

idk this man's an enigma. he either hates kids or is really good with them (maybe both lmao). it's not often porter finds himself in an environment where there would be children, but in the off-chance that he does, i think they'd find him funny. his wit is great for all audiences, and he doesn't even have to try. or he pisses them off. again, probably both.

vincent :

good with kids in a big-brotherly way. i picture him (headcanon alert) as having had a sibling or atleast a younger friend before he was turned, which gives him this brotherly vibe. nice for the most part, but again, i don't imagine vincent would find himself in a place that involves kids. unless he like. hangs out near playgrounds at night now cause he isn't in the house 😭😭😭

gavin :

pretty good. gavin doesn't mind entertaining them for a while, but he finds his humour is better suited for adult audiences. he could listen to a kid ramble all day, (interested “hmm?”’s and “ohh, is that right?”’s are his specialty) but when it comes to making conversation himself AND cracking kid-friendly jokes? yeah he's lost. short-lived social battery.

@skunkox @vividmilk @definitelynuwonhere

hi evie yes u got added to the taglist no u wont be removed i lvoe you

ir’as 12a,wm ngoomdight

[toxycodone]

You asked I came 🤓☝️

What do you think the ideal types of the Windbreak guys are? 🤔

okay…dipping my toes into windbreaker so feel free to disagree but I’m gonna do a few random guys.

sakura haruka - okay…he doesn’t realize he has a type but he’s almost always falling for someone who’s kind to him from the start. genuine kindness makes him feel all weird inside (in a good way). I also think he appreciates someone who will tease him?? Like?? It just goes to show even MORE that you aren’t scared of him and that you genuinely like him. eventually he’ll stop being all deflective about those comments and tease you back. he likes the the kinda…rivalry. anyways. what I’m trying to say here is someone kind, but witty…and isn’t afraid to speak their mind when needed (even to him)

hajime umemiya - he gives me SUCH girl/guy nextdoor vibes. his type is so fucking boring bc like! he isn’t picky! bc he just has a really basic set of standards. but he wants someone he can laugh out loud with omg. who isn’t afraid to show affection for him and can love as openly as he does. (esp bc like…he’s so open w affection that isn’t usually returned lol) 🥺 he really values that sort of connection and wants to have someone who’s like a best friend who he can make out with honestly.

jo togame - ….this man is an enigma to me but I’m gonna try. I honestly think he’s looking for someone who smiles a lot or makes him smile. it doesn’t really matter if it’s on purpose or what. but he’s spent enough time miserable that I think he’s trying to prioritize moving forward + his happiness in general. I also think he’d prefer someone not caught up in the gang mess (since he like. understands the sad reality of it.). I also see him being a fan of someone who’ll speak their mind and tease him too.

yamato endo - literally anyone because hear me out. all you need to do is look interesting or act in a way that surprises him…it piques Yamato’s interest and he’s hooked. He’s fixating on that interesting quality and just running with it. Yamato has this like?? version of you he makes up in his head and basically fosters that idea. in my eyes he’s going to pull out a darkness in you you may not even know you have and just. fucking go nuts over it. I think there’s so much good potential for toxic relationship w him…(and like, I also think he can actually have a redemption of some kind w u tho. unlike chika) HAHSBSJ

[luvscnarios]

Muse ༊*·˚

Pairing :: Welt Yang x gn!reader. Word Count :: 2k. Warnings :: smut, best way I can describe it as an explicit description of porn. Notes :: Every time I try to write smut, it sounds so goofy 😭. But besides that, this is for @mini-ism since she's the biggest Welt fan I know :D. And pls look past an spelling/grammar mistakes since this was written in one go.

“Here, Mr Yang. I got your phone.” You handed Welt’s phone to him and offered him a little smile. An easy and shy smile like always, one that concealed your frayed nerves. He took it from your hand, fingers brushing against yours, and gave his thanks that you can’t even pay mind to. You can barely hear yourself asking to be excused from his company over the loud buzz in your head, a little too quick as you turned back and scrambled off to your room. 

You’ve always been too curious for your own good. Joining the Nameless to explore, becoming a part of the Astral Express crew to learn about the different worlds out there. Your timid personality did nothing to curb that insatiable desire to know everything, no matter what. So when Welt asked you to fish his phone out of his room, of course, you took the liberty to explore every inch of his cabin like your life depended on it. 

Maybe yes, it was wrong of you to snoop off and look through his belongings. But you and Welt were close! The rate at which you made yourself attached to him after joining the Express was embarrassing but there was nothing you loved more than trying to figure a person out. Not to mention, you had the tiniest crush on him because who doesn’t love mysterious old men? And the best part is that Welt didn’t seem to resent your insistent company, probably because you were too reserved to be too obnoxious. You made for a great listener, even if he mainly talked about the Express or his love for animation. Silently seated side by side as he drew, eating snacks together, and even talking strolls. In the blink of an eye, you two were happily joined at the hip, the closest of good friends. 

He wasn’t like Himeko or March, who wore their hearts on their sleeves. Neither were they like the Trailblazer or Dan Heng, who literally couldn’t remember much of their past. Just from his elusive answers to your questions made you decide that you wanted to untangle this enigma Welt had created for himself. But when you did search his room while trying to find his phone, disappointment didn’t even begin to describe how you felt. 

His room was so plain. Like unseasoned chicken, but worse. A bed, some shelves with boring-looking books, a single closet with clothes, and a desk with the most basic lamp known to mankind. At least his phone was on that desk but that wasn’t what interested you. No, it was a little black sketchbook that you’d never seen before. There wasn’t a single scuff mark or title on it, a mystery among its bland environment. You guessed that the sketchbook would be filled with mechs or maybe even drawings of the Express members. Something very Welt-like. But just taking a peek at the first page had you slamming the notebook shut, eyes wide and face beginning to flush. Unless your mind was playing games with you, what you saw was a drawing of yourself. Not you and other Express members. Not even you and Welt. Just you, lying down on a bed with your shirt hitched up to show some of your skin. 

Frankly, your first reaction should have been repulsion. Not once did it cross your mind that Welt could see you as anything but platonic and this sketchbook should have disturbed you. But of course, all you could feel was a sense of curiosity and giddy excitement. Maybe the drawings were simply harmless doodles and not to mention, that would make you Welt’s muse. That was a bit flattering. There was no way you planned to go through that sketchbook in his own room, plus you had his phone to return. So like the genius you were, you took the notebook and tossed it in your room to go through later, not even thinking about the fact that the only person Welt could blame if it went missing is yourself. You casually walked back into the parlor car where you and Welt were chatting, handed him his phone, and here you now. Speeding walking to your cabin like your pants were on fire. Shy, curious, and a little dense. You really needed to pick a struggle. 

Once in the supposed safety of your room, you snatched the little black book off the floor and sat in the middle of your bed. As childish as you felt, you pulled the covers over your head for some privacy and started to smile as you held the sketchbook. It felt nerve-racking and rousing to have such a personal possession in your hand, all for your exploration. So what if you were a little noisy, your fatal flaw could be a lot worse. Taking a deep breath to quiet your nerves, you slowly opened Welt’s sketchbook to see what was inside. 

It started innocently enough. After the first sketch, you saw doodles of you doing random oddities like eating, yawning, drawing, and even dancing. They were cute, shocking you since you wouldn’t peg yourself as a cutesy person. There are also a handful of detailed portraits of your front and side profile. It was honestly stunning how he captured your essence with a mere pencil and paper. How you always smiled with a coy expression. How your brows never seemed to relax or even how you’d cover your mouth when you laughed. Every little detail that some of you didn’t even realize about yourself he drew, making your cheeks warm. If you liked Welt a little bit before, you definitely were into him now. Because the fact he had a whole sketchbook dedicated to you was- in simple words- really attractive.

But as you kept turning the pages, so did the vibe of the drawings. The first of the suggestive drawings was you wearing Welt’s clothes and glasses. The shirt was too big and unbuttoned, exposing most of your collarbone and chest. His glasses were askew on your face and you seemed to be giggling with your flushed face and uncharacteristically wide grin. At least he had the decency to make such fanservice of you tasteful since you didn’t look dumb. But you were quick to eat your own words because with each page turn the sketches only got more perverted.  

Many had you bent over pieces of furniture, like couches or even his bed. And you knew it was his bed in particular because of how dastardly bare it looked. In every drawing, you looked back with half-lidded eyes and parted lips, as if beckoning for some more action. Seeing yourself in such a raunchy position made you blush like a virgin, a shiver running down your spine. There were also some very detailed pages filled with upskirt doodles of your underwear and you in pervy outfits in general. Lacey lingerie, ruffled skirts with no tops, and even naked with nothing but frilly stockings on. Never have you ever worn something of bright color, but now you looked like a pinup doll in these pages. Welt Yang, with all his mystifying demeanor and intimidating knowledge, was just an old awkward guy who was nerdy for animation and had a kink for people in over-the-top cutesy outfits. Before you felt flattered to be his muse before all of this but now you felt flustered, morally conflicted, and a little aroused. It felt wrong to not hate his objectifying art but also to like it as well. But since curiosity can kill a cat, you kept inspecting the sketchbook to see how you’d feel with the end of it. 

There was no other way to describe it. The last few pages were nothing short of porn. Straight up. At least he spared you since most were quickly scrawled drawings, but that didn’t change the fact that Welt had drawn porn of you. And damn him, it was good too. One was you gagging around his gloved fingers, gazing up at him with eyes clouded over with lust as drool ebbed down the corners of your lips. Another was you on your hands and knees while completely bare, the end of Welt’s cane tilting your face up to him. It was clear there was a recurring theme among these final sketches: you’d always look up at him with a docile look of submission, always seeming to seek out his guidance and control. So he had an authority kink or something? Totally didn’t make you all hot and flustered under your covers and totally didn’t make you squirm against the mattress of your bed. 

On the last page in the very back, there was one detailed drawing that you marveled at for a good minute because it was surprisingly tender compared to what you’ve seen before. This time, the setting was your better-adored bed, the sheets pulled over the lower halves of your bodies as Welt had you in missionary. While the most explicit parts weren’t actually drawn, your faces said enough. Your arms curled around his neck, your mouth wide open in a moan, and tears of ecstasy falling down your cheeks. There were hickeys and bite marks all over your own neck and collarbone, but despite all that you still looked… good. If anything, you thought you appeared a bit beautiful with your face keened in pleasure. Your eyes stared into Welt’s as one of his hands cupped your face, the other firmly holding your head in place by the hair. To put it lightly, this was the most tame drawing out of all the pornographic ones. But as you focused on it even more, you found it painfully romantic. 

While you did have a crush on Welt, you were perfectly content keeping your feelings locked away. It would be less than ideal if someone like yourself dated someone like him. Oh, but how these drawings wretched your heart. Was there any romantic sentiment behind these sketches? Or was it all just the lustful fantasies of an old touched-starved man? Was it even right to stay close to Welt if he viewed you like this? And most importantly, how in the universe were you going to sneak this little black sketchbook back into his room? 

None of those questions ever got answered because the sudden sound of your cabin door sliding open and the familiar tap of a can against the floor made you freeze, pure terror flooding your chest. At least you were under the covers but you didn’t need to see who entered your room, you already knew. Maybe this was your punishment for being so sneaky under the guise of a mousy person. 

“Listen,” Welt’s voice rang out with a sigh. “I’ve called your name a hundred times thinking something’s wrong with you. Just to find you under your blanket? What are you up to?” And before you could cry out an excuse and hide the notebook, he pulled the blanket away from you in one swift movement. Since when was he so agile!? This was bad. And utterly humiliating. You looked like a total pervert as you sat there with his notebook in hand, face flushed and your head turned sideways to avoid his critical gaze. But there was no point in avoiding him since you had no defense against the sorry sight of your state. 

You closed your eyes and expected him to start berating you, shouting at your disrespect, and snatching the notebook. But all you heard were his awkward stammers as he tried to explain himself and when you opened your eyes, he was as flushed and red as you were. While you have seen Welt’s awkward side, this look on his face was entirely something else. While he did look flustered from this predicament, the ever-so-subtle hope in his eyes was clear to you. Although you were the one who started the friendship, Welt was always the more extroverted one between you both. Would it be so wrong to step out of your comfort zone and make a move? 

“Hey,” you held up the notebook to Welt, keeping your voice as level as possible and praying that you didn’t look like the blushing mess you are. You’ve always been too curious for your own good. And yet, you dared to think that you could sway this moment in your favor.

“Mr Yang, can we try recreating these drawings? They look so…tempting to try out.”

[l-littlebird-l]

Hello, little bird🥰✨ I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to thank you once again for the masterpiece “The Blind Dance”, that was breathtaking!❤️‍🔥

If you don’t mind, I’d love to share with you some of my thoughts, they might be veeery stupid, I’m sorry in advance, that’s just what happens in my feverish brain (Ominis’ been filling my mind completely for several months🙈)

So, personally I’m into powerful and let’s say dominant Ominis hehe. What do you think about it:

Ominis and MC are friends and of course both of them have hidden feelings for each other. One day, MC appears to have a bruise on her neck from some regular fight she had. Ominis can’t see it obviously, but hears some ambiguous remarks about her neck. He gets super jealous and storms to his beloved Undercroft/dormitory/any empty classroom to let off some steam, she notices his state and follows him. And when she asks wtf with you, he bursts out. Like... slams her up against the wall, holds her neck where the bruise is and smth like “who the hell was he?!” (maybe some assumptions that it was Sebastian, cause he knows they spend a lot of time together), basically revealing his dark intimidating side a bit. There can also be insults and some parseltongue spilling of course cause this boy can’t control himself hehe. She’s outraged, trying to push him away, but he realizes how stupid he was, apologizes passionately and then.. no less passionate and possessive sex with parseltongue as well🔥

Gooods I just needed to share it with you, and maybe you will find some ideas inspiring for your incredible talent! And it’s totally fine if you find it an utter rubbish, my brain’s just not working properly when it relates to Ominis😂

Thank you again, we’re all so happy to have you in this fandom!💕

Thank you so much for your patience with this piece! I loved writing it and I had a lot of fun playing around with Ominis’ emotions. 😉 Rest assured, your prompt for this piece was amazing. Thank you so much for being my first request, and I really appreciate all the kind words you give me. The Blind Dance is one of my favorites as well. Ominis just has this way about him. 💕 You definitely piqued some ideas for later stories. Thank you again, and enjoy!

• Jealousy Is a Terrible Thing •

Ominis Gaunt x MC (Smut)

— Requests are Open —

Summary: Ominis’ jealousy flares up when Sebastian returns to the common room well past midnight, carrying your scent. The accumulation of lies and excuses reaches its breaking point, leading to a heated confrontation between you two.

—

Ominis is a master at finding every possible opportunity he can to get closer to you. He's like a magnet, whether that means strategically choosing the seat next to yours in class, skillfully appearing in the same hallways as you, suggesting lunch dates at The Three Broomsticks, or inviting you to join him for study sessions in a cozy corner of the library.

For him, every minute spent by your side fills his day with an unparalleled sense of happiness. It's as if the entire world around him had shifted since you entered his life. He now has something, or rather someone, to look forward to greeting every single day.

But today, however, things took an unusual turn. Ominis had hardly slept, and his mood was decidedly foul. All night, his mind had raced, tormented by the question of why Sebastian had returned to the common room so late last night, bearing the unmistakable trace of your scent. He wrestled with this enigma throughout the night, and what compounded his distress was Sebastian's blatant falsehood. Sebastian was notorious for brushing things off and fabricating the flimsiest of excuses. But that scent, Ominis recognized it all too intimately—it was unquestionably yours. A fire churned within him, a spark of jealously aflame.

(Recap)

As the clocks hands inched past curfew, Sebastian clandestinely slipped into the common room, his movements shrouded in secrecy. His arrival, however, didn’t go unnoticed. Ominis lifted his head from his book as he drew a deep breath, catching a tantalizing trace of your scent emanating from Sebastian's clothing.

Without missing a beat, Ominis confronted Sebastian, his voice laced with an unmistakable sharp edge. "Sebastian, you're out past curfew. What were you up to?"

Sebastian, however, was quick on his feet. He met Ominis' gaze with a feign air of innocence. "Oh, nothing much, just a late-night stroll. Clearing my head, you know."

Ominis slammed his book shut and rose from his seat, his brows knit together with irritation. "Late-night stroll? Clearing your head?" he scoffed, his voice tinted with bitterness. "Don't insult my intelligence, Sebastian. I can smell her on you."

Sebastian tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, beads of sweat formed along his forehead. "You're imagining things, Ominis. Just a bit paranoid, aren't we?"

But Ominis was having none of it. He took several steps forward, his words biting through the air. "I know the scent of her perfume, Sebastian. Don't think you can play the fool with me."

Sebastian's mask of indifference began to crack as Ominis' possessiveness pressed in on him. "Fine," he spat back, the veneer of politeness shattering. "I was with her. So what? She can choose who she spends her time with."

Ominis' patience wore thin, and his anger flared as he leaned forward. "You're playing a dangerous game, Sebastian," he growled, his jealousy unleashing. "She's mine, and you'd do well to remember that."

Sebastian, seemingly unfazed, crossed his arms with a smirk, his voice edged with false nonchalance. "Why do you care so much, Ominis? What I do with her is none of your concern."

Ominis gritted his teeth, his temper burning from within. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but his pride kept him restrained. “Just answer the question, Sebastian. What were you doing with her?”

Sebastian leaned forward, his tone a venomous whisper. "Maybe you're just not man enough to satisfy her."

Ominis clenched his jaw, his jealousy scraping the forefront, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal the true depth of his feelings.

Sebastian leaned back, a smug grin playing on his face. "You're so possessive, Ominis. It's pathetic. She's not yours to control."

Ominis, his anger boiling over, shot back, "You're just a playboy, Sebastian. You don't understand what it means to truly care about someone."

Their words hung in the air, charged with tension and unresolved emotions. The common rooms quiet atmosphere seemed to amplify, and neither of them was ready to back down.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, as he leaned in closer to Ominis, his voice dripping with venom. "And what would you know about caring for someone? You've never even seen her face, let alone know what it's like to be with someone like her."

Ominis couldn’t take it anymore. The frustration, the jealousy, the pain all swirled inside him like a tempest. He had been holding back, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but Sebastian’s taunts and insinuations were pushing him over the edge. A dark, sinuous whisper echoing within his head.

With furious colors, Ominis lunged at Sebastian, his control slipping away like sand through his fingers. He grabbed Sebastian’s collar, his fingers digging into the fabric as he shoved him forcefully against the wall. His face was contorted with rage as he leaned in closely.

Sebastian was caught off guard by Ominis’ sudden loss of control, despite being pinned against the wall and faced with Ominis' seething anger, he managed to taunt one last time. He grinned, though there was a nervous edge to it.

"Ominis, you're blind in more ways than one," he sneered, digging in with a final jab.

Ominis' grip on Sebastian's collar tightened, his knuckles turning white. He was on the verge of losing control completely, his anger and jealousy driving him to the brink of madness. The whisper inside, growing louder with each passing second.

As Sebastian's taunting words hit Ominis, they seemed to strike a deeper chord. Ominis' anger slowly faded, replaced by a wounded look in his eyes. He slowly released his grip on Sebastian's collar, taking a step back and facing away.

His voice, when he spoke, was filled with a poisonous blend of hurt and resignation. "Fine, Sebastian. Have it your way," he muttered, his anger now overshadowed by a sense of defeat and pain.

Sebastian held his gaze on Ominis’ back for a moment longer before breaking away, storming off to bed with Ominis' words echoing in his ears.

Left alone in the dimly lit common room, Ominis couldn't quell the burning jealousy that gripped his heart. His mind raced with turbulent thoughts, imagining what you and Sebastian were doing together. Each passing minute felt like an eternity as his possessiveness over you gnawed at him, making it impossible for him to find solace in sleep. The scent of another man, bearing traces of you, lingered in the air, a reminder that he couldn't shake off.

As the day dragged on, he found himself in the library, waiting for your arrival. The evening had been earmarked for a study session between the two of you. He positioned himself in a secluded corner of the library, setting the stage for a mental game amidst the book-lined corridors. Aware of the intricate nature of his little mind game, he knew that extracting answers required meticulous finesse. Every move, every word was a potential gambit on your friendship. His mind was a turbulent sea of unanswered questions, each wave threatening to consume his thoughts. The stakes were high, and the risks, even higher. But his determination burned in red. He needed answers, and if Sebastian wasn’t going to give them to him— then you will.

Even moments before your arrival, his mind raced with restless thoughts, the relentless curiosity within him clawing at his very core. A low grumble slipped from his lips, his fingers sinking into the pages of his book, an unsettling image flashing vividly within his thoughts.

"There you are," a familiar voice greeted him with enthusiasm, the sound of your steps weaving around the bookshelves as you plopped your stack of books on the table.

Ominis, drawn by the melody of your sweet voice, lifted his head, and his countenance transformed. His features softened, and a smile, one reserved solely for you, gently curved his lips. The crashing waves of his mind finding ease.

"So you decided to come after all," he teased, deliberately averting his gaze back to the book in his hand as his grip softens.

"Of course I'd show up, I'd never miss our study time together. It’s too precious," you playfully retorted, settling down next to him.

As you opened your books, the sound of the pages turning harmonized with the subtle waft of your scent, enveloping the space around him. That same, familiar scent, lingering in the air, stirring something within.

The library was unusually hushed, the subtle sound of his nails picking at the corners of parchment, bending them with a nervous energy. Your gaze instinctively followed the sound, an elegant dance of curiosity shifting between his fidgeting fingers and his pensive expression.

You sat there, quietly studying him for a few moments, pondering on what’s occupying his thoughts. Something about him seemed amiss, though you couldn't quite pinpoint it.

You leaned into him, your body brushing against his as your lips drew close to his ear, your voice a soft whisper. "You're not typically one to fidget with your hands. Is something on your mind, Ominis?"

Your closeness seemed to have a calculated impact, causing his demeanor to subtly shift. The sound of the parchment ceased as he turned his focus toward you, his face adorned with a serene mask of calmness. "Hmm? Oh, no. Nothings on my mind."

Your concern etched lines of worry onto your brow, still convinced that something weighed heavily on his mind, but he wasn’t budging.

"Ominis..." you hummed, your hand gently finding its place against his thigh, your voice carrying a soothing, reassuring tone. "You know you can talk to me."

In a fleeting moment, all his defenses crumbled. A lump formed in his throat, your sweet, captivating scent enveloping him like a warm embrace. The gentle brush of your hand against his thigh ignited an indescribable sensation deep within him. In that moment, he wished for time to stand still, for this instant to stretch into eternity. Just you and him, a world apart from everyone else—a world far from Sebastian. It all faded into obscurity. It was as if only the two of you existed in that space.

You couldn't help but notice how your presence seemed to have a calming effect on him. Your fingers traced a gentle, reassuring path up and down his thigh, and a soft, affectionate grin danced at the corners of your lips as you observed him intently. He looks so sweet…

In this sanctuary, Ominis felt a newfound comfort, an urge to confide in you, to lay bare everything that had tormented him, and perhaps even to express the emotions he'd kept concealed for so long. He yearned to spill it all out, to finally lay his heart on the table.

Just as he was about to speak, a subtle squeeze from your hand against his thigh brought him back to reality. His lashes faltered, and with a soft, deliberate hold, his hand grazed against yours, seemingly hesitant to speak.

His lips were parted, and for a brief moment, he seemed as if he was on the brink of saying something, but his lips drew a line. Instead, he took in a deep breath, casually flipping to the next page in his book with a flick of his wand.

"You needn’t worry about me, I'm fine," Ominis insisted, his words carefully neutral. "I just couldn’t find sleep."

You sighed, not entirely convinced by his statement, but willing to go with it. "How come?" You inquired gently, your fingers naturally gravitating toward the comforting warmth of his inner thigh.

His breath hitched for a mere second, the feeling of your hand tantalizingly close clouded his mind with your sweet, intoxicating presence.

"Sleep often seems to evade me more times than I care to count. So I opted for some light reading in the common room last night," he began, his voice steady. A momentary pause followed as he carefully considered his next words. He taps his nail against the parchment with an unsettledness. “Just as I was wrapping up on my reading, a rather… perplexing encounter held me.”

His eyes lined up with keen perception as he sensed your hand twitch in response to his words, a restrained, sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew he had you hooked.

"Oh? And… who might’ve that been?" Your words faltered, your heart beginning to race as the realization set in, that you had unwittingly walked into his cunning little trap.

"Sebastian," he stated firmly, the pretense of an unruffled countenance still in place as he smoothly turned to the next page in his book.

"S— Sebastian, huh?" You gradually withdrew your hand from his thigh, fingers curling around the contours of your book as you anxiously flipped through several pages.

"Any thoughts on why he might have been up after curfew?" He nonchalantly twirled his wand between his fingers, deliberately taking his time as he keenly detects your composure slowly unraveling beside him.

"No— not at all. Why would I have any insight?” You brought your hand to your lips, your teeth nibbling nervously at your nails as your thoughts begin to race.

"Really, now?" He leaned back, drawing in a deep breath as he meticulously assessed the situation. "I had thought you two were rather… close. Mayhaps I judged wrong," he mused, his finger idly tracing the edges of his book, waiting for your next answer.

You cleared your throat, collecting your hair in your hands as you lifted it up off your neck and sweeping it aside to cool off.

“We should get back to studying, Ominis.” You mumbled quietly, adverting your attention back to your books.

A pit formed within his midriff, an uneasy sensation coursing through him as he discerned that you had just lied to him and casually brushed aside his inquiry. Lost in his thoughts, something had sparked his attention, a faint, distant sound emanating several tables away. His ears perked as he found himself inexplicably drawn into the poison of hushed whispers and muted laughter.

"Did you see that mark on her neck?"

"Gods, what is it?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's a hickey!"

"Merlin's Beard... who do you think it was?"

"I bet you 5 Galleons it was Sebastian Sallow."

"What— no way."

"You think she's been snogging Sallow?"

"By the looks of it, she's been doing more than just snogging." The subdued group of students snickered amongst themselves.

"And…. guess what I saw last night… I saw the two of them leaving the castle after curfew."

"What, really..? That's foul... and she has the audacity to put her hands all over Gaunt— are you going to report it to the Headmaster?"

“Not yet, I’m waiting for the perfect moment.”

“You sneaky little minx.”

“She deserves it. I can’t wait to see her crumble.”

"She should be ashamed of herself...”

"Isn't one enough? Leave the rest of them for us."

“She’s such a slut.”

A flush of crimson spread across Ominis' face as his anger surged like a rising tide within. His fists clenched together in a white-knuckled grip, his imagination running wild with scenarios from last night, each one more maddening than the last. Thoughts became an impenetrable fog, clouding his usually sharp mind. His jaw clenched as he slammed his book shut, the resounding thud echoing throughout the library. He stormed out, leaving behind a wake of turbulent emotions.

Ominis could hear his heart ringing in his ears. The whole world around him fading into a distant blur as he pushed himself through the crowded halls. His nails dig into the handle of his wand as anger, frustration, and jealousy envelopes him whole. The thought of you doing something so vile with his best friend tinged his heart. He felt as if the air was sucked right out of his lungs, his own emotions strangling him.

You sat there, bewildered by his sudden outburst. Trying to make sense of what just happened, you close your books in a hurry, leaving them behind as you quickly followed suit. Your eyes glued to the back of his pristine button-up as you chased after him, deftly slipping through the turbulent sea of students and nearly stumbling over an outstretched foot.

"Om— Ominis, wait…" your voice caught as you hastily found your footing, resolutely following his swift path into an unassuming classroom, leaving behind a clear path of confused faces.

As you enter the classroom, your eyes swept across the empty space, finding no trace of Ominis. You take a hesitant step back, perplexed. Suddenly, the wooden doors behind you click shut. You quickly pivot around to find Ominis standing there, blocking the only exit out.

“Ominis…” you muttered, standing there frozen and confused as an uneasiness settled within your midriff.

His eyes almost gleamed with a shade of green, as if a dormant darkness within him had awakened. A pure-blood Gaunt, a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, the snake with no eyes, now revealed itself. His once-hidden frustrations surged to the surface, directed towards you. His body burned with resentment, hands trembling at his sides.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice low and tinged with a threatening edge, leaving no room for evasion or lies. "What were you doing with Sebastian last night?"

A sudden chill runs down your spine, as if he could actually see into your soul. You stagger back, your heart racing in response to his probing question.

"What do you mean..?" you stammered, desperately searching your mind for any little thing to grab at.

Your heart pounded in your chest, caught between the fear of angering him and the guilt of keeping the truth from him. You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of Ominis’ words pressing down on you, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it, not yet. The room seemed to close in and crackle with tension, clashing with your desire to protect the truth.

"I— I was…" your words faltered as Ominis took an intimidating step forward. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, struggling to find the right words. Your tongue felt heavy, surrendering yourself to complete silence.

Suddenly, he lunges forward, his fingers wrapping around your jaw, pivoting you around, and slamming you against the closed doors. His breath brushes against your lips as he leans in, his eyes effortlessly locked onto yours.

You winced, your eyes squeezing tight from the sudden force, his hold around your jaw softening as his fingers grazed down your neck.

"You were?" He asked, his voice baring a darkness you hadn’t seen before.

"I... I was just... studying," you muttered, attempting to maintain the facade, but the heat of his body pressed against yours and his possessive hold shattered your composure.

Your mind raced, torn between your desire to protect Sebastian and the overwhelming presence of Ominis. His demeanor was suffocating, hard to resist the urge to spill the truth, but you stubbornly clung to your feeble lie.

Every word you spoke, every lie you told, was like fuel to the fire. His fingers encircled around your throat, tightening with warning. "Tell me then, what's this?" he inquired, the pads of his fingers pressing into the tender, bruised skin below your jaw.

You yelped, your hand reaching for his wrist in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure. He took your hand in his, pinning it against the wooden doors. With a low, frustrated growl, he eased his grip from around your throat, his fingers still remaining over the mark.

“Speak,” he said, as if you were some pet of his to command.

You gasped, finally able to breathe, your head spinning. "Ominis, what's happened to you?" you whispered, your voice colored with confusion.

He grew tired of waiting for an answer. His mind filling in all the details on its own. He pushes your jaw to the side with his thumb as he leans into the crook of your neck, his breath scraping against your skin. His soft lips brushed across your bruise, that same dark whisper filling his head with poisoned words.

“You like this?” He growled, his lips barely transgressing against your skin.

Your voice caught in your throat as Ominis' grip tightened, preventing you from speaking.

"Have something to say, do you?" Ominis’ voice dripped with irritation at your feeble attempt to speak.

An agonizing silence enveloped the room as you nervously shook your head in response.

"I didn’t think so." He sinks his teeth into your bruise, eliciting a pained wince from your lips. The warm caress of his tongue against your skin, paired with his piercing teeth digging into your neck sent an indescribable sensation pooling between your thighs. His hand snaked from your throat and down your waistline, gripping into your hip. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as his knee stopped you from squeezing your thighs together.

He had you within his grasp, a pretty little thing trembling against the doors. In this moment, you were unequivocally his, a possession to be claimed. The air felt thick and heavy. He relished in the power he held over you, knowing he could do anything to you. It was crystal clear: You were his to mark, not Sebastian’s, his. And he intended to make that known.

"You like being a little slut for me?" He drags his lips agonizingly slow against your skin, catching your breath.

Despite the fear and the turbulent emotions, an undeniable surge of desire coursed through you. Ominis' dominance had awakened a primal longing within you, and your response was unmistakable. Your breath hitched, and your body caved into your desire, your hips arching slightly against his knee.

Ominis was acutely aware of your response. A sly smirk curled his lips as he felt the subtle shift in your body, the way you arched against his knee, the way your arm fell limp within his grasp, and the subtle wavering within your breath. It was evident of the power he held over you.

Ominis couldn’t help but taunt you further, his voice dripping with possessiveness and a hint of cruelty. “You feel that?” he whispered, pressing his knee against your damp knickers.

Overcome by lust, you found yourself writhing in place, unable to contain the fiery yearning that coursed through your veins. Your heart hammered within your chest, a relentless rhythm of anticipation and longing, each beat echoing the insatiable need for more. Every inch of your skin felt like it was burning, burning for his touch.

Ominis, consumed by his desire, pushed your thighs apart with a dominating force, making it clear who was in control. He pressed his hips into you, his hunger evident in the way he held you against the doors. There was no denying the raw and burning need he felt for you in that moment.

“You like being fucked so hard there’s bruises all over your pretty little skin?” He growled through gritted teeth, his grip around your wrist constricting. The anger in his voice sent tremors through your body, leaving you almost afraid to utter a word. A barely audible gasp escaped your trembling lips.

He couldn't fathom how you could lose your self-control so easily under such circumstances. His mind seethed with jealousy and anger. Were you always this easy to rile up? Is this what you and Sebastian do when he’s not around? Is that what you want from him? Unable to contain his rage any longer, he lashed out, slamming his hands against the wooden doors, staggering backwards.

"Is this what you want? Isn't Sebastian enough for you? You think you can go around putting your pretty little hands on guys and expect us to fuck you? You're— you’re such a..." He growled, his voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

Ominis leaned back against an empty desk, running his fingers over his jaw, a look of shame crossing his face. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he attempted to collect himself, but the damage was done. He knew he had lost control and shattered any chance of friendship that remained between the two of you. With a heavy sigh, he buried his face in his trembling hand, overwhelmed by the strangling feeling he has in his heart.

You were left speechless, your heart aching at his distress. With cautious steps, you moved towards him, your hand finding purchase against his shoulder as your thumb brushed with a soothing comfort.

"Ominis…" you whispered softly, your voice wavering with concern and immense sadness. "Please, just talk to me… What's going on with you? Why did you say such hurtful things?"

You settled down next to him, your hand gently gliding down his back. "This… this isn't like you, Ominis..." You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his waist, embracing him from behind.

The softness within your voice melted away all his defenses. Unable to contain his turmoil any longer, he began to unravel, pouring out the torment that had consumed him. His voice quivered. It sounded like he was on the brink crying. Your embrace around him tightened, unable to bear the sound of his shuddering voice.

"Please…" your voice trembled as you pleaded in him, the agonizing prick of tears welling within your eyes.

Ominis drew in a deep breath, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. Slowly, he lifted his head from his hand, his gaze, blankly fixed upon the floor.

"It was him, wasn't it?" His voice held a note of anguish, as if he didn’t want the truth at all.

"What was him?" You asked gently, lifting your head from his shoulder and resting your chin against its curve.

He took a few moments, taking in deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to come to terms with it himself. “That bruise along your neck… It was Sebastian.”

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows, your fingers instinctively brushing across the mark that adorned itself just below your jaw. "This?" Confusion filled your voice as your mind raced with questions. “No— Sebastian never hurt me, why would you think that?”

He leans forward, elbows resting against his knees, his hands clenching in visible disarray. "Not hurt you…" he uttered with an evident struggle in his voice. His head turns toward you as you break from the one-sided embrace. Your eyes traced along his pained face, tears glossing over. You tenderly cupped his cheek, urging him to face you.

“Ominis…” you murmured softly. “What then?”

He slowly picked his arm up, his fingers gliding over your caress with gentleness, nuzzling his cheek into your hand. This warmth was what he so desperately needed. His gaze lowered with somberness, his other hand reaching out to hold yours within your lap.

He shifted towards you, his hand falling from his cheek, finding purchase against your thigh. He appeared hesitant, at a loss for words— his mind wrangling with itself to even speak.

"That mark," he started, his head still lowered. "It was from making love, wasn't it?"

You sat there, blinking for a moment, caught off guard by his accusation. Speechless, you almost let out a baffled laugh but quickly restrained it. "Making love?" you retorted, your hand lowering from his cheek as you wrapped your fingers around his nape, drawing him in closer.

You pressed your forehead against his, gazing into his soft ocean eyes. "Listen to me, Ominis… There’s nothing going on between me and Sebastian,” you hushed, your voice filled with sincerity.

He pulls away with furrowed brows, disbelief etched across his face. You clasped your hands around his, pulling him back in. "Ominis, please… This bruise here, it was from an encounter with goblins. Sebastian and I… we snuck out of the castle last night. We wanted to have a little fun, go for a midnight adventure,” you paused briefly, a heavy sigh filling the air. “But I… I got into a little trouble. I messed up my footing and a goblin attacked me. I was exhausted. Sebastian had to carry me back to the castle… I’m so sorry, Ominis. I should’ve been honest with you… I had no idea how much this pained you."

He felt ashamed, he felt hopeless, and he felt so, so indescribably ignorant. The weight of his emotions hung heavy within the air.

“I promise you, there’s no other man out there that has my heart,” you continued softly, your words piquing his interest. Ominis slowly lifted his chin as his gaze fell upon you.

Your lips curled into a sweet smile, brushing your thumb in soothing circles over his hands. “No one else, but you.”

His lashes faltered, and that very pit within his stomach had completely vanished. He felt all the heaviness within him lifted, the venomous whispers within his head— gone, replaced by a sense of clarity and peace."No one else?" He asked softly, his voice broken.

“Ominis, I love you… I love you so much that it pains me. It pains me to see you like this. I fell in love with that very sweetness you hold so deep within your heart. You’re someone special to me…” you wavered, the weight of your confession hanging in the air, your heart pounding within your chest as the gravity of your words settled between you both like a weightless plume.

He gently withdraws his hand from your grasp, his fingers tenderly tracing along your jaw as he clasped his hand just below your ear. His soft touch sent a shiver down your spine as he tilts your head back, his thumb brushing against your cheek, pressing his longing lips against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the sweet taste of his affection, your lips molding together in a tender, passionate kiss. In that moment, the world around you faded into insignificance. Everything that had just transpired, gone. All that remains now is the unyielding confession of love. The kiss lingered until he finally pulled away, his lips hovering just an inch from yours.

His warm breath caressed your lower lip as he spoke in an unwavering, gentle, and remorseful tone. "I've loved you from the moment I met you, more deeply than I could ever express. I've tried to hide it, to bury it, but it's always been there… burning within me. You mean more to me than words can convey, and I can't imagine my life without you."

Ominis’ voice quivered with emotion, "I love you with everything I am, and I always will, no matter what. I love you, all that you are, my dear little bird. I’m so… so so—"

You cut him off before he sank back into his darkness, your lips locking together in a fervent embrace. His brows furrowed as his lips followed suit, firmly. The kiss deepened, a passionate, unending surge of emotion that left you both breathless. In that moment, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place, and your hearts were bound together as one.

You wanted to reassure him, to make him understand that he had nothing to worry about. Your heart belonged to him and him alone. You hooked your leg over Ominis’ hip, gently lowering yourself into his lap. He wrapped his hand around your waist with a tender embrace.

With a shared urgency, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting soft sigh past his lips. In the midst of your heated kisses, soft whispers of, “I love you,” flowed freely between you both. It was as if those three words had become a cherished refrain, a reminder of your unwavering love for each other, and neither of you could get enough of it.

Your kisses became a sweet storm. Peppering his lips as your hands cradled his jaw, your hips moving in a rhythm of their own, swaying with the desire that coursed through your veins.

A burning sensation snapped you back to reality, a tantalizing stiffness pressing against your knickers, awakening you from the flames. You were acutely aware of the desire that had burned between you.

Unable to resist, you both tumbled against the desk, your lips still locked in a fiery embrace. The kisses turned heated, sloppy, and wet as you explored eachothers cavity with unbridled hunger. His grip around your hip tightened, pressing you firmly against his arousal, a quiet moan of pleasure escaped your lips. Desire pooled between your thighs, wetting his trousers from the friction.

With a final, lingering kiss, you gradually poised yourself up, straddling him with your hands pressed against his chest. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, but something about his presence made you feel safe and unashamed. The embarrassment you anticipated seemed to melt away in his soft, gentle touch.

A sweet, contented smile graced your lips as you began to roll your hips, a gentle grind that pressed your soaked knickers against his clothed arousal, eliciting a soft, quiet hum from Ominis’ lips.

He tilted his head back with a warm moan, the sharp contour of his jaw capturing your attention. You reached for his hands, delicately intertwining your fingers with his, guiding his touch as you circled your hips. A quiet sigh of pleasure escaped your lips, filling the thick air around you.

Ominis’ lips parted, eliciting an unrestrained moan as his cock twitches beneath you. He lost full control over his hips, incapable to stop them from moving in rhythm with yours. This was everything he had ever yearned for— your sweet hands in his, the soft, quiet moans that slipped past your lips, the constant whispers of affirmation. Yet, amidst this symphony of pleasure, there was one thing he longed to hear… the sweet sound of you moaning his name.

Feeling your hands withdraw from their loving embrace and hearing the subtle rustling of fabric above him, Ominis reached out, gently clasping your hands in his once again.

"Allow me," he whispered in a tender tone, his desire to adore you evident in his gentle pale eyes.

Your hands slowly dropped as he began to unbutton your blouse with a tantalizing slowness, savoring every moment so he could etch this memory into eternity. His fingers brushed across your shoulders, unable to resist the urge to whisper with admiration, "So soft..." He slid your blouse over your shoulders, allowing it to pool around your elbows. Your fingers curled under the rim of his trousers, eagerly reciprocating the desire.

Ominis, however, wasn't met with the expected sensation of a bra strap along your shoulders. Instead, he found himself intrigued, his fingers tracing down your collarbone until they reached the supple, sensitive flesh at the curve of your breast. His feather-light touch sent a cascade of goosebumps dancing across your skin, eliciting a subtle sigh of approval from your parted lips. His large hands then enveloped your breast, gently squeezing and kneading without hesitation.

Your eyes locked onto his almost devious grin. You unhooked your fingers from under his trousers and smoothly shimmied the rest of your blouse off, your gaze then moving toward his buttoned shirt, relinquishing it’s hold. You pushed open the flaps of his shirt, your eyes feasting on the sight of his well-formed figure. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your fingers trailed down his chest, tracing the dots that adorned his pale flesh in a playful zigzag pattern until they reached his hip. He was truly a vision of beauty, and in this moment, you couldn't fathom how he could doubt your desire for him over anyone else, even Sebastian.

"Ominis… I want you," you whispered, the words dripping with desire.

"Then take me," he dared, his expression sweet and inviting, in stark contrast to everything below.

Your cheeks blazed with a deep, rosy hue as you bit into your cheek, his words leaving you breathless with desire. With a sultry grace, you lifted yourself onto your knees, your hands working deftly to tug down his trousers and briefs just enough to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. It was much larger than you had imagined when you were grinding against him, and the sight left you speechless. Even his length was adorned with a scattering of freckles.

His hands, warm and tender, snaked up your thighs, just under your skirt, cradling them with a gentle hold. He showed incredible patience, letting you take your time and go at your own pace. You reached below you, your fingers curling around the soaked fabric that clung to your heated flesh. Pulling them aside, you wrapped your fingers around his base, slowly lowering yourself onto him.

The pink crown of his arousal glistened with pre-cum, slipping between your slick folds as you guided him into your eager core. His length squeezed into you inch by inch, eliciting a joined shudder. Ominis tightened his grip around your thighs as he felt your cunt slowly enveloping his length, drawing him deeper inside you. A hushed wince escaped your lips as he pushed you firmly against his hips.

A low, guttural curse slipped from Ominis’ tongue, the agonizing sensation of your tight cunt gripping around his cock with raw hunger.

With slow, deliberate movements, you took control, lifting your hips and sensually lowering yourself onto him, savoring every inch of his throbbing desire as it filled you completely. Finding a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies. Ominis' hands ventured further under your skirt, his fingers clasping possessively around your hips, pressing deeply into your skin as you surrendered yourself to the veil of desire.

The sensation of his pulsating cock reaching deep within you, hitting the depths of your cunt and clenching around his cock in a strangling hold. It was everything he had ever fantasized about. The tantalizing stride and rolls of your hips, the softness and warmth of your skin touching his. The labored breaths and sweet moans he elicited out of you, it felt so fucking good.

The way you rolled your hips and took his cock like it was meant for you. How your body trembled every time he hit that sensitive spot. The desperate moans escaping your lips as he started to force your movements quicker by your hips. It drove him mad, mad for you. He craved more, wanting to hear those pretty little lips of yours gasp and scream his name, and he knew exactly how to make that happen.

With a firm grip around your hips, he easily maneuvered, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself over you. With one hand supporting his weight, his other guided the underside of your thigh until it was pressed against your side.

"Ominis, wai—"

He silenced your protests with a deep, penetrating thrust that sent a loud moan spilling from your lips. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as a sly grin curled at the corners of his lips. Your slick cunt tightened around his cock as he continued with long, measured strides in and out of your slick heat, drawing a soft yelp from the depths of your throat. Your hand clutched around his forearm, anchoring yourself as he quickened his pace.

"Ah, fuck..." you winced, furrowing your brows in pleasure as he drove into you relentlessly.

A deep, guttural groan reverberated within his throat as he reveled in the tightness of your cunt. He shifted his hand from your thigh to support his weight against the desk, looming over you with a demeanor that made you feel small and trapped beneath his towering figure.

He may be blind, but Ominis was attuned to your every desire, intimately aware of what turned you on. A sly grin danced along his lips as he continued his relentless thrusts, each one hitting that sweet spot that drove you mad.

He swooped down, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his labored breaths crashed against your skin. The sweet sound of your whimpers riled something familiar within him. "You like that?" he growled against your neck.

You gasped, your nails digging into his forearm as your body shuddered from his words. A subtle sneer lathered your tender neck with hungry kisses and soft bites.

His lips trailed sensuously along your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses against your earlobe. “I know you like this,” he grunted, his hips driving into you with hard, measured thrusts that left you gasping with desperate approval. The needy whines that escaped your lips were all the affirmation he needed. His tongue traced the contours of your ear, soft nips and low growls that sent shivers down your spine.

"Oh fuck, Ominis..." you pleaded, gasping for air as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“You’re so tight…” he snarled, his voice thick with desire, peppering your ear and neck with a trail of hungry kisses and licks. His pace slowed into long, tantalizing strides, all the while bearing knowing smile.

"Ominis, please..." you whimpered softly, your nails digging further into his skin.

"Please, what?" His voice shuddered, sinking his teeth into your neck as he maintained his steady pace.

"Oh, fuck… please—"

He hummed against your skin, seemingly oblivious to your intent, relishing in the sweet desperation of your trembling voice.

"Please… fuck me harder," you exasperated, writhing beneath him.

He gripped your hip in place, preventing your movements as he continued with his slow, ruthless strides.

"What’s my name," he demanded, his voice a heated whisper against your ear.

You panted heavily, your thighs trembling at his hips, your voice a sultry plea, “Fuck me harder, Ominis…” Before you could finish the rest of his name, he slammed his hips into you with a hungry growl against your ear. You bucked your hips with an arch of your back, eliciting a yelp that echoed within the halls of the castle.

“Good girl,” he whispered, sending an intoxicating blaze of fire coursing through your body. With every forceful thrust, a torrent of pleasure surged within you, an unrelenting tempest that threatened to consume your very being. A knot of insatiable desire coiled deep within your midriff, pulling tighter with each invasion of his hips.

Sweat glistened across your entwined bodies, his movements a fevered dance of untamed lust and longing. Your nails etched fiery trails along Ominis’ back, branding him with your passion. The pain that etched along his back soon became pleasure as he lost full control of himself. The classroom echoed with a crescendo of fervent gasps and uninhibited moans.

As he surrendered to his primal desires, his voice became a sultry serenade, a soft trail of parseltongue with unbridled lust slipping from his lips like a seductive spell. He teetered on the precipice of release, the moment of climax drawing tantalizingly near with each scorching thrust.

His head hangs low, driven by an insatiable need as he plunges deep into you, his hips etching a delicious soreness into your supple flesh. Your thighs trembled against his hips, helpless to resist the throbbing sensation as he fills your needy little cunt to the brim, spewing threads of his warm, sticky desire that claimed you as his.

Exasperated curses punctuated the air, escaping your lips as your body contracts beneath his rigid thrusts. Your back arches with a deep curve, your hips locked in a drunken lust as he fills you to the rim. Ominis hovers above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his thoughts lost in the intoxicating haze of euphoria.

A heated warmth seeps from your defiled cunt, dribbling sensuously against the smooth wooden desk beneath you. Ominis, with a heavy and contented sigh, begins to slowly withdraw, his cock sliding out with a wet, suctioning noise that lingers in the air.

You gaze at him through half-lidded lashes, your face carrying the unmistakable weight of exhaustion, each breath labored with fire. Ominis' well-satisfied cock twitches, strings of cum dripping from his tip.

With an almost inconceivable smirk, Ominis runs his fingers through his tousled hair, his freckled cheeks flushed from exertion. “You’re mine, you know that?” He said softly, delicate beads of sweat tracing along the contours of his midriff, a captivating sight only for you to see.

You nodded obediently, with a soft, weary sigh, “I’m yours.”

He left you utterly spent, your body feeling heavy against the wooden desk. Your legs remained parted, trembling from the aftermath, as you struggled to catch your breath, your mind remained shrouded in a tantalizing fog of lingering lust.

“Ominis…” your voice wavered, still carrying the heat of the fervent moment.

A mischievous chuckle escaped his lips as he gazed at you with desire-fueled hunger. “Round two?” His suggestion hung in the air, a tempting invitation to plunge back into the depths of pleasure once more.

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic Fics By ...

- momentofclarity -

[1]

“Well, yeah. So… see you tonight, Lou?” 

The way he says the nickname, all soft edges and cotton smooth, makes the heat return to Louis’ cheeks. “Yeah, sure.” 

Tonight. Harry is going to be there. Great.

Louis smiles at him because he can’t not, but the second Harry’s back disappears into the next room his smile falls and he lifts a warning finger at Niall. “ Not a word.”

Niall never listens. 

“You truly are the cutest thing this side of the river.” Niall shakes his head. “Who knew rugged men in their sixties could blush like that?”

“Shut it,” Louis says and falls into his crickety office chair. “I have work to do.” 

[2]

A few minutes into the game Harry’s phone buzzes with a text and Harry slowly pulls it out of his pocket, still keeping an eye on the game and listening to Louis’ comments. It’s a text from his best friend Niall and while he should know better, he distractedly opens it. The second he reads the words he regrets it though.

managed to score yet? ;)

His face immediately flames up and he quickly locks the screen. Fucking Niall.

The thing is – obviously Harry had to talk to someone about the absolute enigma that is Louis Tomlinson, so Niall had spent the past three months hearing all about the way Louis is basically the sun and everyone else (especially Harry) are just planets orbiting him, doing their best to catch a few of his glorious sunbeams. Niall might’ve also been forced to listen to a few drunken rambles about Louis’ spectacular thighs and how Harry would like… happily be crushed between them.

[3]

Since their interactions are restricted to empty locker rooms and gate-kept houses, his need to always be closer is that much more . If they could touch beyond slaps on the back or small smiles across rooms, he might not be so starving. 

As it is — he wants to drown himself in Louis as much as he can. Surround himself with the man who holds his heart behind smoke and mirrors.

A hand lands on his back. “No stress baby, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Harry scolds himself for getting lost in his thoughts. He scrambles to gather up his gear, even though he usually waits a few minutes before following Louis out. 

[4]

Harry nods slowly, “Yeah. Something like that,” he agrees and then he looks at Louis with those big earnest eyes, like he’s trying to make sense of something. An intimate silence settles between them and everything else just sort of falls into the background. It makes Louis’ heart race in his chest. A sign of how much is actually happening between them, even in the stillness. Their eyes holding a conversation of their own. Their cells slowly growing attached to, adapting to, the feeling of the other near by. Butterflies building colonies in the pit of their stomachs. Breaths mingling between them. It’s all happening in the quiet calm of a Sunday afternoon. Neither of them fully aware of it. Like the calm before the storm.

Of course, them being them, the moment when time seems to have stopped, doesn’t last very long at all. It starts with a tiny twitch at the corner of Harry’s mouth and it soon blends into a full on grin, dimples exploding in his cheeks, eyes sparkling like the sun reflecting on green ocean waves. “I think I want to make you come again,” Harry says and his fingers trace the line of Louis spine.

- Answers below -

[1] a garden in bloom

Louis used to live the quiet sweet life of a small business owner in the English countryside.

Then Harry Styles came along.

[2] It's halftime. Are you ready to go?

Reason #12 - Because it's halftime.

Harry would like to think that he doesn’t know how he got himself into this. Only… he’d be lying. Because he knows exactly how he got himself into this. Oh man, does he know, and it’s all because of a certain Louis Tomlinson. Alternatively - football is gay and Harry is trying to cope.

[3] sensitive to pressure 

Harry’s breath stutters on its way up his throat, his cheeks heating more with each step as Louis gets closer and Harry can’t move. Feet stuck to the carpet, heavy and unwilling, unable to shuffle away or take control, stuck in place and waiting.

[4] Them Butterflies

To sum it all up - Louis is beautiful. Breathtakingly so. And Harry can’t find it in himself to even question the fact that he thinks so. Louis is mesmerising, nearly magnetic with all the energy bouncing off of him. Harry doesn’t know what to make of it, but he knows he doesn’t want this night to end.

This is the extraordinarily ordinary AU where Harry falls in love for the first time and Louis learns how to fall in love all over again.

[imbeingchokeholded]

Getting Clean

I need to be put into jail, stupid Scottish bitch.

Anyway this is probably lowkey just gonna be smut completely lmao.

I promise the soap pun titles will end.

Also so sorry this took so long because my mind is an enigma and writing for either the COD fandom or the RDR2 fandom has been deleted out of my mind.

Lets go lmao

WARNINGS!: female reader because im a woman and soap makes me yell real loud (nothing against him being shipped with male readers or 141, good for him what a king), NSFW, fuckin, im so bad at warnings just know its gonna be fuckin happenin, choking?? Voice kink???? Breeding kink for SURE. Just major NSFW basically porn with negative plot. Like... .5 plot.

Scottish slang/words may be inccorect due to using google, so please lemme know if its wrong, I'll happily fix it.

I am so sorry for spelling mistakes i finished this at like 2am

The mess hall seemed way too empty, everyone was out on missions, covert, recon, whatever, and while there was a shit ton of others there on base, without most of the 141 team it just felt....wrong.

You sigh and look at your food. It's not that it's bad food. In fact, it looks delicious, but sitting alone, at this massive table that usually you shared with Ghost, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro, as well as Soap, just made you feel...down.

They were easily the people you were closest too on base. Working so closely with them it was only a matter of time before it happened. All of you were close friends, it was rare for any of you to stray from the group and talk to anyone else.

So today, sitting in the mess hall, was no different.

You stare at the food a little longer, and poke it around with your fork, that strange foreign feeling in your chest.

"Aye Lass, lookin' at it like tha' cannaé change how it tastes."

You smile and twist your head to look at Soap as he nears the table, a tray of food of his own in his hands.

"Johnny! I didn't know you were here!" You smile wider as he takes a seat next to you, and chuckle as he takes a bite of food from his tray.

"Ah, I jus' got back from a mission not too long ago, Price is givin' me a wei break."

You nod and smile at him, your heart seems a little lighter now, someone who you're far closer to now with you.

Plus it was Johnny, how could you not be happy around him? He was the obnoxious fun loving one of the group, he could be serious yes, but it was rare. Most days he joked, laughed, spat out witty sarcastic comments at everyone who passed.

You supposed that was part of the reason you'd grown to have such deep feelings for him in the first place.

Of course you'd never tell him that, you were far too nervous to do that.

Handsome, sweet, a deep voice, which had a Scottish accent on top of it? You could listen to him speak about nonsense for the entire day.

Sometimes missions with him were absolute hell.

He did his job, he was a good Sargent, he knew what he was doing, trained properly, getting things done the way they needed to, but his commentary....

That damn voice of his, he didn't even need to be next to you, all he needed was that voice and his stupid little sarcastic quips.

Hell, sometimes it wasn't even in comms.

He'd yell out something simple, that shouldn't have been attractive, yet it was.

Something as simple as "Changing mags!" Could make your face heat up and turn a violent red, hell, he basically growled at the end of the sentence whenever he said it. Being near him was almost like having a bomb strapped to your chest. Threatening to go off at any second.

Everytime he said "Steamin' Jesus" you couldn't help but imagine him using it in a far more intimate senario, with a slight change of tone, and that never failed to send a flood of warmth between your legs.

You swore that he knew what he was doing too, like he could sense the tension between the two of you, or see the red on your face, but if he did he never brought it up, and for that you were thankful.

Trying to explain fraternization to Price would not be a fun experience. Not only that but bringing it up would probably make you flustered beyond speaking ablity.

"Hey, Y/N. I been talkin' yer fuckin' ear off, you still listenin'?"

You shake your head and look at him, your face feels hot and you're sure you're crimson.

"Ye alright Lass?"

That stupid nickname makes the blush worsen and you simply clear your throat.

"I'm fine Soap. Thinking."

"You can call me Johnny off duty." He laughs. "You usually do....ya nervous about something? Just a wei bit?"

His voice carries a bit of teasing tone and you can't help but feel a bit if irritation at the smug bastard.

"Not nervous, no."

"Ah, not nervous, yet red in the face....Aye...I got yer number bonnie."

He snorts and then continues to eat.

"Really?" You cross your arms and look at him. "Do you now MacTavish?"

"Pretty obvious if you ask me." He shrugs.

"Okay, so tell me then."

Your face burns at the sudden burst of confidence, and as a smirk crosses over Johnny's face you suddenly feel very foolish about what you've just said.

"Lass...tha's not very appropriate for me to say here, where anyone could hear....now is it?"

That smirk stays on his face as he lowers his voice to a low whisper as he gets the last few words out.

You swallow, and your face burns deeper.

"I don't know what you mean Johnny."

"I'm sure." He offers you a laugh and then stands, the look in his eyes makes your body shiver. "I think I'll head to my room...feel free to...visit, if you'd like."

You watch as he walks off as though nothing had happened and your entire body seems to shiver.

He sticks his hands in his jean pockets as he walks away, which you obviously noticed, because of course you did, with an ass like his.

What the hell are you gonna do? Follow him? How the hell did he figure you out so quickly? Did he mean what he said?

Little did you know Johnny was thinking similarly.

"What the hell were you thinkin'? Saying somethin' like that? Y/N does NOT feel that way about you, you probably just fucked somethin' up, fuckin' idiot."

It takes you only a matter of minutes before you stand from the table and head after Johnny, towards his room in the base.

Your heart is thumping so loudly its the only thing you can hear.

Your body seems to be reacting on its own though, your thoughts, while dirty and definetly in need of some....cleaning....ironically, are wondering what'll happen to your friendship afterwards, but your body doesn't seem to care.

Your mind races with the thought of what would happen if you were caught too, it wasn't exactly professional to fuck your coworker in the military.

When you reach his door you breathe deeply, hesitant as you raise your hand to the door. You stopped for a moment and then, you knock on the door.

Johnny opens the door nearly instantly, only a matter of seconds pass before the door knob clicks and he stands in the doorway before you, leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at you.

"Tha' was quick Lass."

"Shut up, let me in."

"Aw...c'mon now...be nice..." He lowers his voice, whispering the last two words, a smug smirk coming over his mouth.

You feel a rush of heat through your chest and look to your feet, your entire face seems to burn, your ears even feel as though they're burning.

"Please Johnny?"

You feel his hand come under your chin and he lifts your head to look him in the eye, not gently but not rough either.

"Try again Lass, look me in the eye."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

"Please let me in, you stupid Scottish fuck."

"Tha's not very nice...thought I said be nice..."

You clench your jaw and stare at him, that smug grin on his face somehow managing to irritate you and make you horny all at the same time.

"Please Johnny? Let me in?"

"Ye really do want me, don't ye? Dinnaé know you felt so strongly towards me.." He smirks at you and the moves aside, dropping his hand from your chin to let you in.

You look around his room, staring at all the posters and things he has lined up on the walls. Considering this was Johnny's room....you expected it to be far dirtier, less organized, yet as you looked around at the rest of his room you noticed everything had a place, everything was neat, he didn't even have dirty clothes on the floor.

Neat and organized....despite his very chaotic and uncooridinated nature.

You're busy looking this over, viewing his room when he comes up behind you.

He leans in close.

"So, you were havin' thoughts then?" He smirks, you can feel it without even looking at him. "You? Havin' thoughts...innocent little Y/N always focused on the job Y/N....havin' thoughts like those....and about me..."

His voice lowers, it's nearly a growl, and a hand wraps around your waist, his fingers slide gently under the bottom of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach, only just barely.

"Naughty...naughty..."

You look down, your face is completely red, scarlet, and it burns hotter than you thought possible.

By looking down you didn't really account for the fact that, that would only leave your neck open, and it takes all your will power you have not to make a sound when you feel Johnny's lips agains the skin there.

"I'm suprised it took you this long to notice Johnny." You breathe out, hoping your voice wouldn't give out on you.

He stops, his lips still gently placed against your skin as he speaks.

"Really now....been very noticable has it Hen?"

The nickname sends a shiver though your spine, though you know the word itself isn't the issue.

"I think so..." You breathe. "Can't you tell when my voice changes over comms sometimes?"

"Ye get that flustered...over comms? Ye don't even see me.."

He chuckles and presses another kiss to your neck, you're sure the next one he offers will be brusing.

"Not my fault..." You mumble. You've almost collapsed against him, leaning your body weight onto him, though he doesn't mind in the slightest.

"Really now...now...can ye explain to me what it is on comms that makes things so hard to focus then Hen?"

"Why must you make things difficult?"

"Difficult?"

He laughs at you and then stands up straight, his hand leaving the skin of your stomach.

He moves to his bed and takes a seat, nearly plopping down, he sits with his legs open and slaps both hands on his thighs, leaning forwards.

"It isn't difficult, it's a really easy question now Lass."

You cross your arms and look at him, watching as he leans back a little a simple smirk on his face.

"If ye really want somethin' tonight Y/N, yer gonnae have to tell me."

That smug look doesn't leave his face, rather it seems like it only gets worse as he utters out your name, emphasising it, lowering his voice as he does. To add to this you watch as his hands leave his thighs, palms upwards in a sort of shrug gesture.

He knows what gets you flustered over comms. He knows, you know he knows, but you also know he's gonna make you say it.

"You damn well know what it is Johnny."

"Oh I do, but it'll be much better when it comes out of yer mouth, preferrably with your face all red."

You swallow and look to the floor, keeping your arms crossed as you speak.

"I swear sometimes you do it on purpose. You do those damn jokes, say those fucking statements and you always lower your voice, especially if you know I'm listening. I told you how I liked your accent ONCE and now you use it everytime you can."

"Aye, I do." Again, as before, you can hear that smirk on his face. "I'll admit it. I take every chance I can."

You scrunch up your nose, refusing to look up at him.

Theres silence for a moment and then you hear him shuffle, only then do you look up.

He simply catches your gaze and makes a motion towards himself with his two middle fingers, pretty much beckoning you towards him.

Despite the stubborness you've shown earlier you can't help but follow his silent command.

As you reach him and stand inbetween his legs his hands creep over your thighs, fingers curling around the back of them, squeezing the meat of them, tightly, firmly. Just the right amount of pressure.

He looks up at you, his face a little more serious now, the smirk from earlier still lingers, but it's far less noticable.

"Ye know Y/N, I've thought about having you in here....a lot."

"Really?" You stop a moment, your body tingling, stemming from his fingertips outwards. Your mind seems a little fogged. "I thought....I thought maybe you'd invited me in here today just to...well honestly I thought you were just fucking with me Johnny, but...I couldn't just ignore it."

"Nae, no fuckin'with you, no this time."

"So...does...um...does that mean..." You swallow, struggling with your words. "Look....Johnny I think it's obvious I've liked you for a while now...are...if we're really gonna do this...I...what does it mean? Anything? Just...are we fuck buddies, or something more because...."

Your words trail off, you can't help but cross your arms, a sudden burst of what you can only assume is nearly shame creeps up through you.

Johhny's face changes, subtly, but you catch it, and you don't miss the squeeze he gives your thighs either.

"Hen, once I get a taste of you I don't think I could have anyone else."

He's quick with his movements as he slides his hands up towards your ass, and pushes you slightly closer to himself.

The action he does next is a simple one, yet it sends all kinds of feelings through you.

His tongue touches the skin of your stomach, his hand gently pushing your shirt up out of the way. He licks a stripe upwards, keeping eye contact with you as he does.

"Jesus Johnny...."

He offers a chuckle and grips your hip with his free hand just a little tighter.

"I'm gonna ask this once Bonníe," he looks at you, only a small trace of a smile on his lips. "Are ye sure ye wanna do this? I'll stop if ye say stop, but after this I won't ask again."

Your thoughts swirl in your head for a moment. Wondering if it is what you wanted. If it was worth chancing your friendship, chancing your job, getting caught fraternizing is no small penalty.

In the end your body decides for you.

You nod.

"I do."

That smile of his fits on his face slowly, showing off those pearly whites. His surprisingly sharp canines.

His tongue comes out once more, again licking up your stomach, this time he stands as he moves himself upwards, only bringing his mouth away when he reaches the area just below your breasts, letting your shirt fall back to its original place.

When he finally stands his mouth goes into good use, his lips meeting yours with a feverancy, practically a need. He fists your hair, and darts his tongue into your mouth without any hesitance.

His free hand snakes around your body, finding purchase on the plump of your asscheek.

You let out a moan against his lips which in turn pulls one from him.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, grabbing onto any part of him you can.

His hand nestled within your hair offers a tug, pulling your head back, taking your lips from his and exposing your neck to him.

His lips latch onto your throat, open mouthed hot kisses against your skin, making your body shiver, tingle. His tongue licks along your skin, warm, and again...hungry.

"Johnny..." You whine out his name, and your body flames up, a part of you is curious as to how he'd gotten you so needy so quickly.

The other part did not give a shit.

"So pretty when you whine like that Bonníe..."

He smiles against your skin, moving towards your jaw, still dragging his lips along your neck, refusing to leave it.

"Maybe we should see if I can get any more out of ye..."

"Johnny...we have to be careful..." You mumble. "We...we can't be caught-"

"Yer right Lass...that might even be more fun..."

He pulls back to look at you, his eyes seemed to darken with the idea that begins to plauge his mind.

"Let's see if ye can keep from screamin' huh?"

"Johnny-"

He cuts you off as his hand come up around your throat, offering a gentle squeeze to the sides as he begins to push you down to the bed.

"Do yer best for me Love." He gives you that goddamn smirk again. "Stay quiet...Can ye do that?"

You nod, your breathing becoming heavier as he stares down at you, hand still wrapped around your throat.

"Atta girl."

He coos out the words and everything in your body seems to be completely englufed in flame.

"You this charming to every girl you fuck Johnny?"

You breathe out the words, hands moving to his chest as you settle against the mattress.

"Jus' you Lass."

Rough hands slide under your shirt, over your stomach, bringing the shirt along with him.

His thumb glides up the center of your torso, pushing down slightly as he continues his movement, his other hand only leaves your throat when he needs to remove the shirt fully.

Your bra is taken off with seemingly expert practice, your breasts exposed to the air, but quickly they're found by hands and mouth.

A rough palm on one and a wet mouth sucking and licking the other.

It takes all your power not to moan, your back arching up into the feeling.

You hadn't been aware of just how touch starved you'd been.

One of your hands tangles into his mohawk, attempting to hold onto something of him.

He looks up at you, pulling away from your breasts.

"Nae, I dinnae say ye could touch lass."

"Johnny-"

"Shut tha' pretty mouth lass...see if ye can be quiet yeah?"

You nod, swallowing as he reaches for your pants. His fingers hooking under the waistband as he unbuttons them with the other.

With one swift movement he's pulled both your jeans and panties down, leaving you bare to him.

"Would ye look at tha'...such a bonnie sigh', Love..."

He smirks and moves in, hands finding your inner thighs, bringing a sigh from your lips.

Before you can say much else you feel a swipe of his tongue over your heat, already you were slick, this was certain to make the problem worse.

His grip on your inner thighs gets a little tighter as he continues with you, he moves his tongue with expertise, eating you out as though he's a man starved.

"Johnny..."

You can't help but let his name slip out, grabbing the sheets beneath you, squirming your hips against his face.

He looks up at you from his position, and even in his eyes you can see the smirk he'd wear.

It's far too soon that he pulls away, you'd been so close to your climax, so close to having that release, until he'd denied you that.

Again you whine his name, and he moves, climbing over you, grabbing your face with one hand, firmly holding your cheeks.

"Aw lass...wei bonnie...are ye feelin' a wei bit needy?"

You nod, the best you can in his grip, moving your hips against his clothed arousal, hoping for even a little bit of friction.

You give a nother small whine, this one more of a sound than that of a noise, again reaching for him, only for his other hand to pin your wrists above you.

"Ah...I told ye, nae touchin' lass"

You simply look at him, unable to do much in your senario. It's then that he kisses you, deeply, his tongue gliding against yours, the taste of your own slick in your mouth.

He lets go of your face, only to rushedly un button his pants, his problem suddenly a bit more annoying than it had been.

The moment he's free, his pants and boxers disgarded he simply looks down at you, seemingly thinking.

Its then that he grabs you by the hips and easily, effortlessly, flips you onto your stomach, running his pointer finger and thumb down your spine for a moment.

"Ye look so good from this angle love..."

He leans over you, his chest to your back, head angled right next to your ear.

He lowers that damn voice of his again.

"Can ye be a good lass fer me and arch jus' a wei bit... chest down love, ass up."

Of course you do as he asks, or rather tells, like its instinct, pressing your chest further into the bed, raising your rear higher into the air.

He leans back, taking a look at the sight in front of him, his hands going to the flesh of your ass like magnets, squeezing gently, your ass and hips, as though he can't decide which he likes better.

"Look at ye...such an obediant little lass...ye like doin' what yer told do ye? Is tha' why ye like rankin' under me? Enjoy the way I order ye around on the field? Makes ye think..."

You don't answer, focused on the feel of his hands, its only when he moves one of those hands to the back of your neck.

"I need an answer lass."

"Yes, yes I do Sir."

You can nearly feel the smirk on his face, he squeezes the back of your neck a little tighter.

"Sir?"

"Yes sir."

"Oho...I like tha' lass..."

He grabs both of your asscheeks again for a moment before you feel one leave only to feel him push into you.

You let out a groan as he pushes in, as much as you can take, to the base, you feel incredibly full. He's girthy.

"Fuck Johnny..."

You murmer.

"Nae...yer gonna call me sir from now on Love..."

You swallow, waiting for him to move.

"Do ye understand me?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good lass."

He gices you this praise and gently he moves his hips, his hand pushing your spine back into that arch you'd subtly moved away from.

His hips move slow, almost painfully so, and he knows this, teasing you with his hands gliding over your back.

"Ye look so good lass...all this jus' fer me..."

"Johnny please...."

"Aw lass...what did I jus' say?"

"Please...sir?"

"Tha's better....use yer words bonnie...what is it ye want?"

"Faster sir, please?"

You hear the small beg in your voice, sure that by the end of all this you'd be begging a lot more.

"Tha's a girl."

His hand moves to your hip, gripping hard as the other moves to your hair, grasping the roots of it, giving a tug as he moves his hips a little faster, filling you with his size, over and over again.

It's only a minute or so before he seems to loose that idea of torturing you, his pace picking up, hips snapping against yours, that slap of skin on skin, the squelch of your arousal ringing in your ears.

"Fuckkk y/n...." It comes out in nearly a growl, and he pushes your upper half further into the bed.

"Yer doin' so good bonnie...so fuckin' good..."

Another maon crawls its way out of your throat, the others you'd managed to quell, small sounds here and there, but you can't stop this one.

You push your hips against his, letting your knees spread further apart trying to get him in at a deeper angle.

"Please sir, please, fuck-"

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can register what you're even trying to beg for, your figers clench at his sheets beneath you, they smell like him, everything smells like him.

"Y/N..."

His voice is a groan, it's all you hear as he shifts your position, yanking you up by your hair, bringing your back to his chest, thrusting himself upwards into you.

"Johnny...fuck!"

You find your arm going over your shoulder, wraping around the back of his neck, trying to find purchase on something

His lips latch onto your neck as though he's drawn to it, his tongue swiping over your skin and his teeth leaving bites along your throat and shoulders. He breaths hard against you, inhaling your scent.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus..."

He groans, his pace picking up a little further, one hand still brusingly on your hip, the other slides down your front, fingers finding your clit easily.

It brings a moan to the surface of your lips, and rather than being scolded Johnny simply murmers another praise of 'good lass' in your ear, his hips snapping against yours, rythmic.

"Johnny-"

"Y/N..." He huffs, his fingers going faster against your bud. "'M close...need ye to tell me where..."

"Inside Johnny, please...fill me up..."

"Jesus Y/N..."

His voice is breathy, heavy against your skin as he continues, his hips getting erratic, until finally he gives a groan, shoving his face into your shoulder, riding out his climax, the feeling of his cum hitting your inner walls pushing you closer to yours.

He rides out his, moving his hips slightly, much slower than before, and keeps his hand going, trying to keep his previous pace.

"C'mon lass...ye can let go now...it's yer turn..."

He mumbles, breatheless.

It's not much longer of this praising and the movement of his fingers before you do just that, squeezing around him and moaning out his name as you finally reach that high.

As the two of you come down, breathing hard, Johnny still inside you, head leaning against your shoulder, he slips an arm around your waist and offers a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"Thank ye lass..." he murmers. "Tha' was fun."

"Thank you Johnny."

"Ye ain't gotta thank me...I've wanted to do tha' for god knows how long."

"Maybe we can do it again sometime."

"Oh trust me lass...we will be."

[emblazons]

Note: I am finally posting this (something that has been in my drafts for actual months) because @pinkeoni hurt my feelings talking about Will and Alan Turing). So...you can inavertently thank Robin for this LMAO

I don’t delve much into Stranger Things analysis anymore, but having just watched The Imitation Game, the biopic they made about Alan Turning in 2014—I’m thinking that maybe Will doing his presentation on the man might have an delightful (secondary) parallel to this film’s exploration of him, given Will’s burgeoning queerness + ongoing relationship with normalcy.

Throughout the film, the ongoing theme of "differences bringing about greatness/change" permeates every character, but Turing especially—something that the conversation he has with a character named Joan near the end of the film showcases well:

In this conversation, Joan is trying to encourage Turing to come out of depression and rely on her, given he is struggling immensely with physical effects of chemical castration—which he obviously resents, but feels is better than giving up the life he has and being “entirely alone” because of his sexuality / desires (sound familiar)?

This ongoing exploration of queerness as tied to greatness and/or otherness is something that is very often explored in Stranger Things as well, primarily with Will—to the point where Will has nearly the exact conversation Alan has with Joan with Jonathan in S2:

—in addition to us exploring the relationship between a lack of normalcy, queerness and even nerdiness through/by other characters like Robin, Mike & Lucas.

Now (as we all know), Will’s homosexuality has been forever and inherently linked to his otherness/lack of normalcy—whether with how he was bullied in S1-S2, his struggle to be open with his feelings for Mike in S4, or the million literal / metaphorical things in between, Will has always been encouraged not to conform, but still struggles to self-actualize enough to embrace himself fully…which most of us expect for him come S5.

Basically: the underlying theme of this film for Turning (much like the underlying themes at the heart of ST) revolves around how most people strive for normalcy, despite normalcy being undesirable if you expect to do anything great/interesting. While Turing was a homosexual man, he was also one who struggled greatly with fitting in overall—much like Will, which I think perfectly reflects how the Duffers have set up their S5 resolution + solving Will’s ongoing internal struggle with his romantic feelings for Mike + ongoing dissonance with normalcy.

(sidebar: there are articles exploring the idea of "embracing difference" in this movie that parallel Will's "Being Different." See: Embracing Difference - The Imitation Game)

Both TIG!Turing and Will exist in on the fringes on their respective worlds due to their differences and homosexuality—just as both of them are both most inspired by their (romantic) love for their male best friends....to the point that those relationships define their contributions to the story: Turing with the machine that helped the Allied powers break the Nazi Enigma code, and Will in ways I'm sure we'll be talking about in 2025.

TL;DR: While Will still has another season to sort through what his love for his best friend means for both his rejection of normalcy and his greatness, it's fairly apparent that (much like Turing) it is the embracing of both difference and homosexuality that leads to greatness—no matter how the world feels about that overall.

(We love it when the gays learn life lessons (and when they win)).

[k0uk0]

Can I just say some things...

First of all: spiderbit relationship as husbands it's fucking PERFECT. I'm not joking when I say when they shit on each other they do it like a healthy couple would, they do it as friends too but in rp it's absolutely nice to see because, to achieve this level, both parties need to be extremely comfortable to do so without damaging each other. The way they approach things is different, they do it in opposite ways but they complete each other in this way: qRo has the strength and the emotional intelligence meanwhile qCell has the logic and can adapt very easily to difficult situations. Where they lack, they can help each other. QRoier is typically someone who jokes a lot and needs loads of attention, qCellbit tends to be a little more serious (I'm talking when in difficult situations like enigmas mostly and lore in general, because out of that, he's basically the same as qRoier), he bases himself more on his brain than his heart and that sometimes could make him stressed; that's why qRoier's humor is extremely helpful to keep qCellbit more calm and less serious.

SECOND OF ALL: qCellbit would be such a great girldad. I'm serious. He would. He's a nice dad to Richarlyson but he would be GREAT as a girldad. And qRoier too! I'm sorry but I see qIronmouse as their adopted daughter and the stream of today just proved my theory right, they would be such great girldads it HURTS. Just see how qCell behaves with the eggs, especially Tallulah, Pomme and Leonarda. My man exchanges flowers with them. They are the DEFINITION of found family and this knowledge hurts my heart a bit, I need to go to therapy today so yeah. I'll get myself checked before I have a complete meltdown.

[eazy-peazy54]

"Welcome, babies. To the Fruity Pebbles Castle of Torment: a scary castle with 100 rats."

~~~

There comes a time once in every f-slur's life to make an intro post for this god forsaken hellsite.

Now is that time.

~~~

GREETINGS, TO EVERY FOOL WHO HAS MISTAKENLY STUMBLED UPON THIS TUMBLR PAGE!

(This is my sick ass and very cool intro post!!)

SOME MAY CALL ME A MAD SCIENTIST, OR A "RINGMASTER-TYPE," BUT MOST THINK OF ME AS SOME SORT OF WEIRDO WHO THINKS THAT BILL CIPHER IS "SO ME FR" AND TYPES LIKE THAT FOR FUNZIES IN HER INTRO POST SO SHE LOOKS COOL.

(The last one is true, I'm truly a nerd trying to impress you all so you stick around and like me. In all honesty I'm just a kid who wants to be both Bill Cipher and also a vampire. I wanna bring a real Will-Woodian vibe to your function [aka your dashboard.])

THIS BLOG IS ONLY A GLIMPSE INTO THE ENIGMA OF THE LONG AND VAST MAZE THAT SOME MAY CALL A "BRAIN." I PREFER TO CALL IT A MIND-HOLE.

MIND-FUCK, MIND-HOLE, SAME DIFF.

ANYWHO, ONWARDS!

🧪 ABOUT ME: ~ My name is Peazy ~ She/He/They ~ Bi ~ Minor ~ I PROBABLY HAVE AUTISM!! (we can tell) OR ADHD OR SOMETHING !! OR BOTH!! PROLLY BOTH!! 🫀 WHAT I DO: ~ I shitpost. A lot. Mostly, actually. But I am ALSO: ~ An artist! ~ Singer-Songwriter ~ Starting a band! (Mr. Amnesia and The Surrealists, check us out if we ever drop anything!) ~ Writer (of both real stories, and fanfiction!) ~ Creator of the Mary Bell Township ARG! (check out my TikTok and Youtube links if you're interested.. :3) 🐇 FUN FACTS: ~ Once again, I make music! ~ I'm making an ARG that I might make a sideblog for, so stay tuned! ~ I am allergic to gluten ~ I fuckin LOVE cats ~ I'm somehow Goth and Emo and Scene all at the same time?!?? ~ I play the pianooooo!

💫 CURRENT HYPERFIXATIONS: ~ Will Wood ~ LITWTC/Life in The World to Come ~ Gravity Falls ~ My own ARG ?? somehow ?? Don't ask, I don't know how this happened.

🌊 FANDOMS: ~ Will Wood ~ LITWTC/Life in The World to Come ~ Gravity Falls ~ Smiling Friends ~ Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix ~ Portal ~ Once again, my own ARG somehow.

🎹 MUSIC I LISTEN TO: ~ this list is never gonna be EVERYTHING i listen to so bare with me

🎼 GENRES: ~ Goth ~ Emo ~ Vaporwave ~ Alternative ~ General "Weird Kid" music ~ Rap ~ Swing ~ "Indie" ~ Folk ~ Punk ~ Hyperpop ~ Basic white girl music that I will not admit as to specifics 🎶 ARTISTS: (in no particular order) (also this is NOT all of them) ~ Will Wood/Will Wood and the Tapeworms ~ Lemon Demon ~ Tally Hall ~ Oingo Boingo ~ That Handsome Devil ~ Crystal Castles ~ Glass Animals ~ Man Man ~ Tyler The Creator ~ Kendrick Lamar ~ Desert Sand Feels Warm At Night ~ Infinity Frequencies ~ POiSON GiRL FRiEND ~ Girls Rituals ~ Black Dresses ~ Jack Stauber ~ Mitski ~ She Wants Revenge ~ Joy Division ~ New Order ~ Joey Valence & Brae ~ Chappell Roan ~ Gorillaz ~ SOPHIE ~ Charli xcx ~ Kesha ~ MF DOOM ~ TV Girl ~ Ethel Cain ~ Lamp ~ Panchiko ~ Yaelokre ~ Radiohead ~ Billie Eilish

🕯️ AESTHETICS IM INTO: ~ Yes, this needed its own category. Hush hush. ~ Gothic (I'm goth don't come at me for putting it in the damn aesthetics) ~ Emo/Scene (SAME SHIT APPLIES AS THE LAST ONE) ~ Frutiger Aero (and anything relating) (<- I will yap about this for ages hold me back) ~ Frutiger Metro ~ Southern Gothic ~ New Wave ~ Utopian Scholastic ~ Vaporwave (IM AN OG PLEASE CHAT) ~ Weirdcore (NOT THE ONE YOU'RE THINKING) ~ 2000's/Y2k (once again NOT THE ONE YOU'RE THINKING) ~ Twee (oopsie daisy) ~ Whimsigoth

~ Halloween shit ~ General vibes of mad scientists and circuses ~ Whatever the fuck Will Wood has going on

🎪 OTHER INTERESTS: ~ Danny Gonzalez, Drew Gooden, Kurtis Conner ~ Flamingo ~ Making PLAYLISTS RRRAAAGH ~ Aesthetics (ask me about this shit I will yap for ages) ~ Liminal Spaces ~ Jfashion ~ Gyaru fashion ~ Other Subcultures ~ Everything creepy! ~ Song analyzation ~ Vampires ~ Circus stuff ~ Mad scientist stuff ~ HALLOWEEN ~ Playing piano! ~ YAPPING

🏷 TAGS TO LOOK OUT FOR: ~ #asks :3 - everything people yap to me in my inbox! ~ #fanfic shenanigans - I want you to take a WILD GUESS. ~ #peazy's yapping - general stuff, or long posts of me yapping ~ #long post - again, take a wild guess. ~ #reblog - like a normal reblog, but I said something in the tags! ~ #art reblog - same as the last one, but art I really liked and had something to say about! ~ #important - actual important things, like awareness posts and all that good jazz :)

🔎 OTHER SOCIALS: ~ TikTok ~ Instagram ~ Youtube ~ Ao3

🦇 DNI: ~ Jokes on you, there is none! Except... ~ Homophobes, transphobes, nazis, racists, terfs, radfems, pedos, proshippers ~ Blogs who solely post NSFW (a few suggestive things are fine! but if you're posting straight-up PORN or only nsfw and only smut, then no thank you brother) ~ Adding on to that, if you have a NSFW side blog, that's fine! ~ Also don't tag my posts as NSFW pretty please. I'm a minor, and if I'm talking about my mama, I mean my mother. ~ people who don't fw bagels /j ~ Either way, I block as I please!

PHEW, FINALLY THATS OVER WITH. BEEN MEANING TO MAKE ONE OF THESE FOR A WHILE NOW.

ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED LEARNING ABOUT ME, AND IF YOU READ THIS FAR..

thank you! :)

It means a lot!

NOW,

BEGONE.

[sabrondabrainrot]

Sorry to keep rambling and yappingg away but this time i swear it's not about Sun for once. It's actually a genuine question, do people actually like Monty? I understand the purpose of Monty and actually like some of their plots I just can't stand the fact Monty feels so stagnant.

I find Monty's arc around saying Earth and wanting to make their relationship work actually really cute. So far I just see Monty genuinely trying to be a good partner to Earth and take her on dates and be open and honest but that very rarely happens. Monty ends up hiding a lot from her however Earth works as a great way for the audience to know Monty Moore intimately. One of the biggest deals for me is when we find out Monty's was crimes are actually just jokes and he they never did any of the unspeakable things!

Except they actually did? Monty wasn't joking about killing hobos etc. They weren't kidding when it came to scamming people and lying to make money. They aren't ever honest in their intentions. Monty goes against what people ask and want constantly.

The progress of the show so far paints Monty like a step forward giant leap back type. They want to do good things but I swear they've never done a genuine act of kindness.

Monty beat Foxy until Foxy forgot who he was. Then purposely kept the thing that could restore him away from foxy intention. Then intentionally didn't build Foxy a new body just after utterly wrecking Foxy's current one. Monty is trying to seemingly fix it but everything keeps stopping it from happening. Except, is what Monty doing a kindness or just their selfish guilt? Plus, don't forget how Monty constantly beats Foxy down.

Monty also NEVER listens to Puppet. They unfairly instigated solitary confinement against Puppet. Puppet herself always knows things she can't fully tell to Monty and despite earning so much of Monty's trust and proving over and over again she should be listened to, Monty still refuses to. I understand Puppet at times is hard to trust when she's being enigmatic but unfortunately Monty gets warned over and over again and just never listens.

Now there's the entire FC and Frank situation. Frank offered a solution that wouldn't be majorly altering a child's body through life risking surgery. Frank is another hard to trust enigma but when it comes to FC and Foxy, Frank has only ever been Foxy's biggest supporter. Instead, we got the surgery and altering route which worries me. If FC naturally burned off star power I think the kid would have been fine but now there's all these added variables with the core being in FC. It's super cool plot wise cause I can tell it's going to lead to something but also, why would Monty basically say their way or the highway?

LMAO I lied, talking about Sun and Moon for a moment. Monty is Old Moon's best friend but they're also the kind of friend who trash talks others to bond. Something he did a lot was compliment Moon by pointing out a problem in Sun first then pointing out a Moon trait he liked. But also on the same hand Sun confides quite a bit with Monty. He's asked Monty for help and Monty repays that with scams and punches. He recently, went out his way to randomly punch Sun in front of all the daycare kids and take FC from Sun's watch just to bring him to Foxy. And a lot of his violence is mainly towards Sun. He was ready to kill Sun for being a tiny bit more popular than him in that one ep when Sun almost took over the pizzallex's new official mascot.

I think Monty is only really kind to Lunar and Old Moon for some reason.. But I also find some of their interactions to be some of the best of Monty. Monty genuinely telling Old Moon to talk it out when Sun was hurting and wanting to kill Eclipse was amazing advice (it's not Monty's fault Moon sucks with words ) and just everything with Lunar? Monty I feel shines best in these instances.

I just get so conflicted when it comes to Monty. I at first laughed along with them. They were this really funny underdog type that was ride or die but as the series goes on i just realized Monty is so mean spirited.

I really don't understand why Earth gives them so many chances.

Like after seeing how New Moons start into the dark side went, I can for sure say I kind of blame Monty. I think New Moon shares most of the responsibilities of his actions however Monty basically forced New Moon's hand. New Moon after all did say "you were planning to kill me." And Monty was. Just to get Old Moon back. Sun went to Monty and Foxy for help with New Moon and despite Sun and current Moon helping them they both told Sun to kill him. They upset Sun to the point he ran off and they acted surprised he was hurt they wouldn't really help.

Puppet gave Sun an agonizing ultimatum but before he could really weigh his wants and needs of the family and ask his siblings Monty went and meddled which forced everyone's hands and ultimately led to Moon/Nexus desperately breaking out, Earth getting burned, Monty being destroyed again, Puppet getting exhausted, and ultimately that entire fiasco going all according to Dark Sun's keikaku.

Maybe I'm just not seeing the big picture? I honestly just don't think Monty is likable at this point and that's a big problem because they're a main part of the cast. They're supposed to be likable aren't they?

[meljwrites]

Lucas clearly has fancied guys before but he said himself none of his friends felt the same. Then suddenly Dillon comes along and not only is he hot, cool and genuinely nice but he finds guys attractive. Do you think Lucas let himself fully fall for Dillon because there was a chance he could like him back?

I think lucas's mind is an enigma haha.

But in all seriousness, as a lesbian, I feel like the experience for falling for your straight friend is kind of a universal experience. However, I do think that Dillon's unapologetic queerness really helped Lucas to come to terms with who he is. Like he basically says that when he finally comes out to him. And i'm sure that allowed him to think about Dillon romantically. He even explained to John Paul that one of the things he likes about Dillon is his lack of caring about what anyone else thinks, and I think that Lucas is now trying to emulate that as much as he can.

I think that without Dillon's openness and encouragement it would have been a lot harder for him to act on his feelings, and Lucas did originally act scared of his feelings (when he told ste that dillon was bullying him) but I don't think there was any world in which he didn't fall head over heels for him.

He probably saw the eyeliner and pecs and his brain stopped working. Exhibit A:

[cryingatships]

Royalty au KimKenta keeps plaguing my waking moments but I don't have any time to write an actual fic, so here's some random thoughts-

Tony's an asshole king who has a legitimate son Kenta (along with multiple illegitimate ones), who is supposed to be the crown prince, but turned out to be an omega and is hence struck out from the line of succession.

Tony plans on holding a tournament beckoning all the brave and worthy from his kingdom (and also from other kingdoms) to duel for the Prince's hand, hoping to secure himself a powerful warrior or a wealthy noble house as an ally. This is partly because he's aware that the peasant of his kingdom will protest soon and maybe even overturn his rule, unless he has some strong/filthy rich friends to repel the attack, and partly cause he's an evil evil man who would not hesitate to auction his son off just to get rid of him from the line of succession safely.

He plans to make Way his next successor, but also considers Babe, his two illegitimate sons, and encourages them to compete in politics, duels etc except Way and Babe grew up together as unfavoured illegitimate children in a backwater caste far, far away from the royal palace and is thus very good friends who would rather help e/o out of Tony's wrath than fight for the throne.

Also Way is in love with the leader of the rebel peasants Pete and is not too eager for the throne anyway, and Babe would rather ride off as an adventurer into the horizon with a puppy-like, loyal page he met into the palace called Charlie. (Way is a lil jealous that Charlie becomes closer to Babe and takes his place as Babe's closest confidant, but he's busy planning Tony's downfall with Pete to pay it much mind.)

Anyway, as the tournament is arranged, knights and nobles rush in from diff corners of the kingdom, eager for the hand of omega who used to be the crown prince and was set to be the next king. Knights also come from far-away lands, and with them comes Kim, a very average and inconspicuous beta in his brown horse and the lack of finely crafted details in his armour.

In the opening day of the tournament, Tony greets the competing knights and nobles from a high podium, with three sons at his side, basically showing off his two strong successors—one enigma and one alpha, both his special powers—and the prize of the tournament, the 'beautiful' omega prince Kenta.

Kenta has the most frightening scowl, mastered from years of experience in attending council meetings with wily old coots from the nobility, as he hears Tony's words. He knows he has none of the so-called 'lovely omegan qualities' of docility, soft words and gentleness, and he certainly had not stayed cloistered inside the walls of the palace all his life like a proper little omega. He knows it, Tony knows it, and everyone in or below the podium knows it, but the all keep quiet and smile cause there are wayy too many benefits in winning the hand of the sole omega prince of the royal family.

As Tony is going on and on in his speech about the kingdom's fertile lands and it's military strength (and taking not a world about the starving population and the discontent brewing underneath), Kenta meets the eyes of an unassuming knight standing at the very back of the crowd—Kim. He feels a zap through his mind, the world stops, they both get lost in e/o's eyes etc etc, but then Tony's speech is over and the tournament is set to begin.

Kenta and Kim's eyes hardly stray from e/o and even Babe and Way makes note of Kenta's sudden strangeness, even though Kenta is mostly quiet all the time.

Kim wins through the initial rounds of the tournament, rising from an unknown little knight from the wilderness to one of the favourites to win the prince's hand. (Yes, there are bets going on about who's gonna be the prince's groom, you think Tony will let go of such a lucrative source of income?).

Kenta does not get to attend every single day of the competition because Tony is busy which means Babe and Way are also busy, extra busy in fact, but he makes sure to know the results of each day's duels well. He used to be the crown prince, he's got connections.

Kenta also gets flowers and an intricately curved dagger that looks like an heirloom and a few trinkets that look handmade and some delicacies that he has never seen before (and he was the crown prince with access to every delicacy in the kingdom) in his windowsill every day, but his rooms are on the second floor of the palace's most well guarded section so that def makes him raise his brows.

While all this is happening, while strolling in the palace gardens one day, Kenta comes across Way and Babe talking together behind a particularly high hedge in one of the less well-kept, semi-abandoned parts of the garden. This also makes him raise his brows, because while he knew Way and Babe grew up in the same palace, he (and everyone else) were under the impression that they were never close, and after coming back to the palace they have been separates even more by Tony's ploys and essentially turned into enemies fighting for the throne.

So why were they huddled so close together?

Way and Babe also see him and Babe grit his teeth and pull out the dagger strapped to his waist, which in turn makes Kenta grip the dagger hidden inside his clothes, the one he got on his windowsill, since Tony had confusticated all his weapons after his came out as omega under the guise of omegas needing to be soft and gentle and helpless. (the truth is that Tony was afraid Kenta will harm his face and bring down his value in the marriage market, or try to kill himself outright.) Kenta knows he has accidentally stumbled onto some secret between the two would-be crown princes, and would now be killed to keep his silence. He's ready to fight to death and take someone, or both, down with him. (he sort of also hates Way and Babe for taking away his position and his secure life, even though deep in his heart he knows that Tony's the real culprit.)

But Way holds Babe's waist and stops him and to Kenta's surprise, Prince Babe, well knows for his brash, aggressive, I-listen-to-no-one-not-even-the-king personality, listens and relents.

Way calls him closer, and then holds a knife to Kenta's throat saying that since Kenta has chanced upon their secret he will now know it all, and threatens Kenta to keep his silence because their plan will succeed, even if they need to die for it, and that he has the resources and the will to drag Kenta along to hell with him if Kenta spills it out.

Then they tell Kenta. Mostly Way tells him, while Babe glowers at him in silence. Apparently, Way is in cahoots with the peasant leader Pete (Kenta does not miss the stars in Way's eyes as he speaks the name. He meets Babe's eyes and they both know what it means and swiftly look away, knowing better than to bring it up), and the peasant rebels are all ready to kill Tony and are much, much more powerful than Kenta had ever known even with his extensive information network within the kingdom. Pete is also a son of a

Way: You were not supposed to know but as your step brothers it's our duty to keep you safe, so we told you everything. Hope this gives you enough time to make your own plans and escape with your little suitor, brother. Now stay quiet abt this or I swear upon heavens I WILL kill you, brothers or not. Kenta: Wait suitor?? Babe: You think we don't know that someone keeps putting courting gifts on your windowsill? We may be new here in the palace, but we got networks, y'know. Kenta: *panicking tho he tells himself it's cause he doesn't want an innocent man to die and not because he likes the person leaving them or anything* Then.... Tony...??? Babe: What, you think that incompetent fool knows anything other than to raise taxes, hear flattery, and get a new mistress every season? Kenta: ....Then who is it? Way: *winking* that's for us to know and you to find out.

I have MUCH THOUGHTS still, maybe i'll write them in another post sometime

[becauseplot]

*returns to yours* I HAVE THOUGHTS! NOT COHERENT ONES TOO SLEEPY AND NEED TO SAVE COHERENCY BUT THOUGHTS!!! MOSTLY ABOUT ISLAND TEAPARTIES AFTER THE KIDS ARE ASLEEP WHERE CELLBIT AND PHILZA DRINK TEA AND PHILZA TEACHES CELLBIT ABOUT STARS AND CELLBIT SLOWLY GETS BACK INTO HIS ENIGMAS AND THEY BOTH BITCH ABOUT TEA BUT DRINK IT ANYWAY BECAUSE IT HAS GOOD STATS

YEAAH!! YEAHHH!!! Okay okay okay so I meant to ramble more earlier when you initially responded to my ask and then I got sleepy and conked out and now it's super early for me, nailed it lmaooo. so anyway just like a couple things i noticed abt this scene *rolls out a scroll of notes, the bottom hits the floor and bounces out the door cartoon-style*

Chayanne gives Cellbit a rose!! Idk if Rose still has influence here (I'll have to sift through Phil's VOD to see if he says anything abt Rose, yesterday I mainly watched Cellbit's POV) but he's protected now!! That kinda folds him into Phil's "closer" circle of friends/family since it's primarily them who carries the roses for protection so!!!!! I'm!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE TEA!! Yes the tea the way the tea immediately broaches the topic of purgatory, and yeah the audible wince in Phil's voice after Cellbit says the tea triggers him and Phil agrees. Yeah it's so shit and they're both so sick of it but it's so OP. Phil survivalist (hardcore) :handshake: Cellbit survivalist (hunger games/"The War"), do and use what is necessary to keep yourself alive.

And AAA!! Yes, okay okay so like you remember that idea abt Phil and Cellbit having late-night convos at the Order pre-purgatory? This is basically that!! It's late at night, they're getting caught up with each other, they've both got the shitass tea and it's going cold and!! In my head this scene goes on for a full night and they just sit and talk and talk and talk, eventually conking out when it's late, just like old times EXCEPT THEY HAVE THEIR KIDS NOW WHICH IS ONE OF THE THINGS THAT BROUGHT THEM TOGETHER, THEIR DESIRE TO FIND THEIR KIDS, AND THEY FOUND THEM!!! (I should write a fic i NEED to write a fic, me vs the 754389 wips in my brain; in my head they still had late night convos in purgatory when their "play time" timers lined up, phil waking up early enough and cellbit staying up late enough for them to talk while the others slept)

The way Cellbit still minces his words abt what he and Bags did post-purg 1 "we had our fun...bolas...style..." is it because he thinks Phil will think less of him? because there's children present? because his SON is present? idk how much Richas knows abt what Cellbit did in purgatory, Richas *did* rescue him while he was fighting eye workers but does he know about Cellbit hunting fellow players for sport? what Cellbit did to his pai Pac? I NEED ANSWERS

Phil's "Dude! No! Oh my god... D:" to when Cellbit says Roier was better off without him. PHIL WAS AT THEIR WEDDING. HE TOOK THE GODDAMN PHOTOS OF THEM AT THEIR WEDDING. HE SAW HOW HAPPY THEY WERE, HOW HAPPY ROIER WAS, WHEN THEY WERE REUNITED IN PURGATORY. Phil isn't close enough to Roier nor speaks to him enough to really understand the full extent of Roier's grief after purgatory 1, but it's gotta be hard for Phil to imagine Roier happy with Cellbit gone. Whether he believes it when Cellbit says "yeah Roier told me he was better" (doied WHEN I GET YOU---) is up for debate but I think about this constantly.

Phil fucking laughing when Cellbit admits he ate some of the eye workers fhdjsk. I can't get over the combo of Cellbit POV (in character thinking: "I'm terrible I'm a cannibal I'm a monster") vs Philza POV (cc who laughs at everything that is even remotely cursed) honestly, taking this as in-character (bc ccPhil doesn't mute his mic to laugh and he...usually does that for ooc bits while in the middle of rp), it says a lot abt qPhil that he's able to just laugh abt an admission of eating corpses. ethics who? geneva convention who? qPhil doesn't know her. munch on those eye workers king they're dickheads. (fuck, DOES qPhil know that Cellbit is a cannibal, as in, he has eaten not just workers but other players?? hmmm...)

"I'm sorry I couldn't do much as bolas leader" "It's better that you didn't see us...I think you'll be disappointed" "oh I could never be disappointed what do you mean shut up *laughs*" GODDDDDDDD also Cellbit trying to say he got worse after purg 1 and Phil saying "nah bolas is already at ground level" (either not understanding or indirectly reiterating that he won't condemn Cellbit for his actions, I can't tell) and then Cellbit just,, going with it. because it's not worth it to argue and he's trying to move past all of that now anyway. (QCELLBIT PROCESS YOUR TRAUMA CHALLENGE LEVEL IMPOSSIBLE)

watching Phil's POV now and HFDJSK you can't hear it on Cellbit's stream but Phil catches Richas as they're both leaving and says quietly, "Take care of your dad, Richas, n' take care." I'M 💥💥💥💥 (<-banging table)

Anyway!! This is what happens when the two characters I'm obsessed with interact for the first time in months. Over-analyzing a 5 minute convo. Sorry, it will happen again :] Praying they stay as neighbors I'd love to see archivists have more interactions!! And yes yes yes yes the tea parties with the kids!! Phil routinely chatting with Cellbit and watching him slowly "regain his color" as he settles back into peaceful life post-purgatory, falls in love with enigmas again. They've always trusted each other when they don't trust themselves, and they're both a Stable Point for the other. I'll miss what we never got to have with the leaders-of-the-Order-having-meetings ideas (timezones, wails) but I'm so excited for new island mysteries!! :D

[karamad]

haewon x lily (basically mask girl kdrama)

angst, no comfort

cw: death

wc: 1.3k

Haewon was an ordinary woman by day, working as an assistant in a large, cold corporate office. She was diligent, quiet, and often overlooked by her colleagues, who barely noticed her as she went about her tasks. Haewon had always been self-conscious about her appearance; she felt plain and invisible, lost in a world that valued beauty above all else.

But at night, Haewon transformed. She became “Mask Girl,” a mysterious online performer who captivated thousands. Putting a mask that covered most of her face, she danced and sang under the dim glow of her bedroom lights, projecting a charisma and confidence that she could never muster during the day. Her online persona was everything she wished she could be in real life - bold, alluring, and powerful.

Her videos quickly went viral. Mask Girl became an internet sensation, drawing in viewers with her seductive performances and leaving them guessing about the identity of the woman behind the mask. To her audience, she was a symbol of intrigue and desire. To Haewon, she was an escape from the suffocating reality of her daily life.

Among Haewon’s viewers was Lily, a former childhood friend who had once been close to her but had since moved on to a glamorous life as a successful actress. On the surface, Lily’s life appeared perfect - stunning looks, fame, and wealth. But behind closed doors, her life was anything but. Lily was trapped in an abusive relationship with her controlling and powerful boyfriend, who monitored her every move, isolating her from her friends, family and the world.

Lily, who once radiated confidence, found herself drawn to Mask Girl, captivated by the enigmatic performer’s raw energy and presence. Masked Enigma embodied the freedom and self-expression that Lily yearned for but felt was slipping further out of reach.

One day, fate led Lily to discover the truth. She had been scrolling through comments on one of Masked Enigma’s videos when she noticed something oddly familiar in the background - a small, chipped vase that she recognized from her childhood visits to Haewon’s home. Suspicious, Lily began to connect the dots, piecing together the mystery of the once mysteriousMask Girl. Determined to see Haewon once again, Lily arranged a secret meeting, desperate to reconnect with the only person who could truly understand her even during the old days. Haewon, nervous but hopeful, agreed to meet her old friend. When they met, Lily wasted no time. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re Mask Girl,” she said, her voice a mix of disbelief and admiration. Haewon froze, her heart pounding. She had never imagined that anyone, let alone Lily, would discover her secret.

Caught off guard, Haewon stammered, “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Lily persisted, holding Haewon’s hand in hers. “You don’t have to hide from me, Haewon. I know it’s you. And honestly, I’m impressed.”

As the truth hung between them, Haewon felt her carefully constructed world begin to crumble. But then, Lily did something unexpected - she reached out and hugged Haewon tightly, her voice trembling as she whispered, “I need your help, Haewon. I can’t do this alone anymore.”

Confused, Haewon gently pushed Lily back to look at her. “Lily, what’s wrong? What happened to you?” Tears welled up in Lily’s eyes as she revealed the truth about her life. The abuse, the fear, the feeling of being trapped with no way out. Haewon listened in shock and horror, her heart breaking for her friend. She had always envied Lily’s life, never realising the nightmare she was living in behind cameras.

“I need to get away,” Lily confessed. “I need to leave him, but I can’t do it alone. I don’t have anyone else… Please, Haewon, help me.”

Moved by Lily’s desperation, Haewon made a decision that would change both their lives forever. She agreed to help Lily escape, to leave everything behind and start a new life somewhere far away, where they could both be free from the chains that bound them.

Over the next few weeks, they secretly planned their escape. Haewon and Lily grew closer than ever during this time, their bond deepening as they relied on each other for strength and comfort. Haewon’s feelings for Lily, once rooted in admiration, blossomed into something more - a deep, unconditional love that Lily began to reciprocate soon enough. In each other’s arms, they found comfort, safety, and the possibility of a future where they could be truly happy.

But their happiness was not meant to last.

On the night of their planned escape, as they hurried through dark alleyways toward the train station that would take them far from the city, Lily’s boyfriend, who had become suspicious of her recent behaviour, found them. He had followed them, his rage and jealousy boiling over into a violent fury.

He cornered them in a deserted street, his eyes wild with anger. “You think you can just leave me, Lily? You think you can run away with her?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

Lily stepped in front of Haewon, shielding her. “I’m not afraid of you anymore. You don’t own me. I’m leaving, and you can’t stop us.”

But her defiance only fueled his rage. He lunged at Lily, pulling a knife from his pocket. Haewon screamed, trying to intervene, but he was too strong. In a blur of motion, the knife flashed, and Lily staggered back, clutching her side as blood began to seep through her fingers.

“No!” Haewon cried, catching Lily as she collapsed into her arms.

The boyfriend, realising what he had done, took a step back, his face pale and in shock. He dropped the knife and fled into the night, leaving Haewon cradling Lily’s dying body in the empty street. Lily’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she looked up at Haewon, tears mingling with the blood on her lips.“I’m sorry, Haewon… I wanted us to be free…”

Haewon, her own tears falling freely, held Lily close, her heart shattering with each passing second. “Don’t leave me, Lily. Please… stay with me…”

But Lily’s strength was fading fast. She reached up, her hand trembling, to touch Haewon’s face. “I truly love you, Haewon… I’m so sorry… I just wanted us to be together”

And then, with one final breath, Lily’s hand fell limp, and she was gone. Haewon’s anguished cries echoed through the empty streets, the pain of losing Lily ripping through her like a knife. She held Lily’s body close, her tears soaking into Lily’s hair, as the world around her seemed to crumble into darkness.

In the days that followed, the news of Lily’s death spread like wildfire. The truth of her abusive relationship and her tragic end shocked the world. Haewon, devastated and broken, disappeared from the public eye, unable to bear the weight of her grief. Mask Girl, the performer who had once captivated millions, vanished without a trace, her final performance a tragic reminder of the cost of love and the price of freedom.

But in the quiet corners of the internet, whispers of a new, mysterious figure began to emerge—someone who performed with a haunting sadness, wearing a mask that covered her face. A performer whose every movement seemed to tell a story of love lost and the pain of a broken heart.

And though no one knew her name, those who watched her could feel the depth of her sorrow, the weight of her loss. They knew that behind the mask was a woman who had loved deeply, and who had paid the ultimate price for that love. But no one would ever know the true story behind the mask, the story of Haewon and Lily, of the love that had burned brightly for a brief moment in time, only to be extinguished by the cruelty of fate.