#but not being a close-minded loser and willing to TALK

[rinhaler]

step cest, virginity loss and non con with toji pretty please? :3

the contrast between the content ur asking for and then the innocent little :3 face is sending me btw 😩 but u said pretty please so u shall receive!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, noncon, virginity loss, fem!reader, step cest, daddy kink, ddlg, step daddy!toji, no prep, cream pie, dacryphilia, praise, pet names.

words: 1.4k

It’s too much for him.

Seeing how beautiful you’ve grown up to be. You’re so smart and kind, too. He feels like he’s losing you each and every day that he drops you off outside of your university building. He’ll never tire of hearing you express how proud of yourself you are to be the first in your family to get accepted.

But he’s starting to notice a change in you.

You’re wearing more makeup and spritzing more expensive perfume. Your tops are getting lower and your skirts are getting shorter. He notices it all because you’re in such close proximity to him whenever he gives you a ride to your classes. Your scent almost luring him into the deepest depths he can sink. Your naked thighs jiggling in the passenger seat practically begging him to push them apart so he can bare witness to your needy virgin cunt.

And he knows you’re still a virgin.

He hears the phone calls you have with your new friends while you pace back and forth in your bedroom talking about which guys in the class you think are cute. All the while he’s willing himself not to give in to his basic instinct and shove a hand down his pants and jerk himself off to the way you describe what you think sex might be like.

You’re adorably naïve.

You’ve convinced yourself it won’t hurt as badly as everyone says it will. Of course that could be the case if you were to fuck one of the pencil-dicked losers in your class. But it would be different with him. Your first time should be with him.

That’s what he tells himself when he sneaks into your room in the early hours of the morning. He knows you have an 8am class, but you’re such a good girl he’s sure you won’t mind. Hell, he’ll even let you skip it if you behave yourself.

He riled himself up too much thinking about what a fucking travesty it would be if you let some frat boy sully your insides. It can’t happen, it won’t happen. He muses to himself as he sits on the edge of your bed.

Your body slowly reacts to his presence as you blink away at the bleary filter in your eyes. You stiffen slightly when you realise you aren’t alone. When you see a shadowy figure looking down at you, every worst case scenario runs through your head in an instant.

“S’just me, darlin’.” he tells you, your vision comes into focus when you hear the all too familiar voice of your daddy. His hand holds your thigh, soothing you with a simple circling thumb.

“You scared me, daddy…” you sigh, getting comfortable in bed once again. You’re losing the battle against sleep, your eyelids feel heavy as you try to continually fight away the exhaustion. If daddy is here, it must be important, after all.

He’ll keep you safe, though.

You know there’s nothing to worry about with your daddy around.

“Need you to stay still ‘n be quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that?” he whispers. You barely register the sound of fabric being moved as you try and find his eyes in the sea of darkness. You, nod though, immediately proving what a good little girl you are for your daddy.

You feel a chill as he pulls your duvet away from your barely clothed body. It’s like you knew he’d be paying you a visit tonight. He can’t quite see, but wastes no time hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh, d-daddy?” you speak, quietly squirming a little as he slowly pulls them.

“Thought you were going to be quiet for me, hm?” he reminds you, a gruff tone to his soothing voice. “Be a good girl for daddy, yeah? Let this happen…”

You gulp, nervously, your body freezing at his words as you realise what’s going on. He yanks your shorts away and throws them over his shoulder, you bare cunt on display is making you consider maybe being with your daddy isn’t so safe.

Maybe your daddy doesn’t always have your best interests at heart.

There’s a clacking sound you can’t place. It’s filling the room along with daddy’s groaning. You flinch as you feel the mattress spring back into place before sinking deeper than it had before. Your body is trapped beneath his and you can’t stop yourself from crying. This isn’t how you imagined your first time, this isn’t how you would have imagined any time.

But you’re paralysed.

You’re powerless.

“D-Daddy… I don’t— I don’t… like… this…” you tell him, still unable to stop your tears from falling. You gasp as he effortlessly covers the lower half of your face with the palm of his hand.

You work out the source of that unrelenting clacking sound as he towers above you, furiously touching himself as he prepares to enter your tight heat.

“Of course ya do, sweetheart.” he kisses your forehead repeatedly as he rubs his heavy tip against your virgin slot. You cry into his hand as he begins to push into you at a snails pace. He’d never do anything to intentionally hurt his baby girl. But this is something he can’t control. “This is what little girls like you are made for. Makin’ their daddies feel so good.” he continues.

His emerald eyes are the only thing you can see in the dark abyss of your room. It’s terrifying, how the eyes you had trusted more than anyone else’s are making you want to scream out in fear.

He feels your tears and saliva dampen his hand as he bullies his cock into you. If he had any sort of conscience, he’s sure he’d feel guilty for not even having the decency to prepare you first. But you’re so fucking tight like this. Taking him like such a good girl, swallowing him whole and squeezing around him like he belongs to you.

And besides, no amount of preparation would have readied you for how well-endowed he is.

He rocks his hips into yours again and again, your screams turn to muffled moans beneath his heavy palm as his tip finds it’s sanctuary against your sweet spot. It hurts, fuck, he’s monstrously big and it fucking hurts.

You try to talk to him, words he’ll never understand as his hand stifles you. He isn’t sure if it’s wise to move it. Will you scream and cause a fuss? It’s a big risk. But you’ve always been a good girl. His good girl. So he slowly peels his hand away, your whimpering moans slowly creeping up your airways and running rampant through his perverse mind.

“’m made… made for you? For daddy?” you whisper. He smiles, smothering your voice with an incestuous kiss that neither of you seem to mind. “B-But it hurts, daddy! O-Ow, daddy’s too big for me!” you cry out, a little louder than you’d intended and certainly louder than Toji wanted. He covers your mouth once more, his brutal pace kicking into high gear as he slams his whole weight behind his thrusts.

“Good fuckin’ girl, baby.” he praises you, admiring how your eyes roll over white and your consciousness leaves your body and he pummels everything he has into you. “No one can know about this, got it? You can’t do this with anyone else either. Wan’ you t’be daddy’s special girl… f-forever.” he speaks, hips speech failing as he begins to reach his peak.

He hadn’t expected you to tighten around him, either. He’s gifted you with your first orgasm and your pussy hugging ‘n squeezing around him forces him to reject any concept of pulling out. You have him trapped inside of your previously untainted walls. Thick, white cum coats your insides and he collapses on you as he finishes.

His grunts continue to fill the room. Though they sound like they’re only meant for you to hear as he levels his mouth with your ear. You turn to face him, those familiar green eyes feel so safe again as he looks at you. Like you can trust him with anything. You could tell him any secret and he’d take it to the grave.

But you know better, now.

You know what you are to him.

“W-Why did you do that, daddy?” you ask him, your voice so timid and subdued. You always talk so sweetly to your daddy. He thinks if you didn’t want that, you would be picking a fight with him. You’d be screaming and crying and demanding an explanation. But you’re too sweet for that. You’re too much of a good girl for daddy to do any of that.

“… Because good little girls always let their daddy cum in them first.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[tyunni]

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

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[highdefhoetry]

the strawhat pirates when they realize they love you.

summary: gender neutral reader. something wholesome for a change. this can be interpreted as platonic, romantic, or whatever other kind of relationship you want!

luffy knows you’re going to be one of his best friends as soon as he meets you. the two of you hit it off right away, spending almost every waking minute together laughing, eating, or doing some stupid shit like pulling rubber stunts on the deck after seeing who could chug the most juice. he wins at almost every game you play, but he never makes you feel like a sore loser. when you’re not around, he’s bored out of his mind waiting for you to get back. and when you’re together again, all hell breaks loose. the two of you get into a lot of trouble, but it’s worth getting a scolding from the rest of the crew. being with him is just so fun! 

usopp realizes what’s going on while he’s building a trinket for you. he stares at the empty space beside him at his work desk, suddenly missing your presence and feeling the weight of your absence. he got so used to you barging into his workshop, asking about every little piece and part strewn about and how everything fits together, that now it feels almost empty without you. you're the only one that shows an interest in his engineering. you're the only one that listens to his tall tales and actually believes in him. you're the only one that looks up to him as a hero. and when he does realize why he's got this fluttery feeling in his chest, all he can do is smile. he’ll make sure to build you the best weapon a warrior can wield!

it takes time for zoro to make sense of his feelings. he’s not a mushy guy, and he’s good at keeping his emotions in check. but that changes when you come along. he’s always been a loner, preferring time away from others to focus on training and growing even stronger, so it was difficult for him to adjust when you suddenly started hanging around him. but in time, he realizes that he doesn’t mind your company. he’s not much of a talker, but he finds himself blabbering on and on when you ask him about swordsmanship and combat. it’s the only chance he gets to talk about his life’s work. he even offers to train you, if you’re willing to go through his bootcamp of hell. that’s when it hits him; you’re something special. no one else gets to be this close to him. no one else gets him talking like this. no one else makes his heart soar, except for you.

sanji knows he loves you as soon as he starts memorizing all your favorite dishes. after his initial infatuation with you wears off, something deeper takes its place. a rich, decadent feeling of care that tastes oh so sweet. he hates when people come in the kitchen while he’s cooking and always kicks them out no matter who they are, but for some reason he can’t say no when he sees your face pop in. his heart melts when you offer to help him prep, and he swoons when he watches you chop vegetables or stir the simmering sauce for him on the stovetop. he doesn’t mind if the ingredients are misshapen, or if the minced veggies aren’t exactly minced. the food you make together always tastes amazing.

nami knows you’ve got her wrapped around your finger when you ask her for money and she doesn't say no. she always keeps a tight fist when it comes to finances, but for some reason she just doesn't have the heart to refuse. she’ll still make a fuss and complain; she worked hard to steal that cash, damn it! why would she just hand it over?! but one look into those eyes of yours and she’s done for. she’ll grumble about a 300% interest rate as you grab the cash from her hand, but she’ll forget all about it when you come back with that new thing you’d been eyeing in town for weeks. she’ll sigh, ask you to show it to her, and decide to waive the fees for now when she sees that wide smile on your face. seeing you happy is priceless.

robin knows she’s got it bad when she finds herself smiling for no reason every time you come around. you show great interest in her archeology studies, listening intently as she rambles about ancient polyglyphs and civilizations lost to time. with you, she feels like she can finally pass down her extensive knowledge to someone who is just as passionate about history as she is. the two of you often sit together in comfortable silence reading books about bones and artifacts, and while your face is buried between the pages, she’ll glance over and watch you with a small smile. her heart warms when she sees the focus and passion on your face. finally, she has a friend that will never leave her side.

[bimbobaggins69]

I’ve had this thing in the back of my head for awhile about Phone Sex Operator!Eddie and the reader going through a dry spell so she calls to get out her frustration OR the other way around and Eddie constantly calls because he’s obsessed with her voice, and most of the time he just wants to hear her voice so he’ll spend his time just talking to her

dial-a-thrill

Phone sex operator!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you and your ex broke up more than five months ago and you’ve refused to start dating again, even the thought of a one night stand puts a bad taste in your mouth but on a lonely night something you thought you’d never be desperate enough to do, becomes as tempting as ever.

⚠️warnings: eventual smut, 18+ mdni, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sweet eddie, talk of sexual acts, lots of pet names (baby, sweet thing etc) readers been deprived, one little mention of readers ex being a cheater, they fall fast.

notes: thank you so much to whoever requested this. I’m obsessed with this prompt. Yes, there will be a part 2. (don’t forget to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)

wc: 3k

You’re not sure what lead you to this point, what has you so desperate to stoop to a new low. But you’re willing to bet it’s the fact that you’ve not been touched in several months. After you ended things with your cheating, lying, sorry excuse of an ex boyfriend Troy, the thought of moving on and putting yourself back out there in the dating world just didn’t seem appealing to you in the slightest. You decided after the break up to throw yourself into work, so you didn’t have to deal with the hollowed out feelings of loneliness that had taken over.

Up until now, you thought you’d be completely fine, you thought you would make single life your bitch by doing just that, staying single. What’s the point of moving on when you’re just bound to get hurt? You couldn’t risk feeling that pain, again.

So instead of being a normal person and going out to a bar or club to find someone to offer you the release you’ve been craving, you’re dialing a number you got off the the tube as you watched some late night tv. The commercial alone had you hot and bothered, the men they used for the ad reeled you in so easily, but the sultry sound of the man’s voice that read off the number, beckoning you to call and talk to “hot local men” had you shamelessly clenching your thighs together. Has it really been so long, that you’re this desperate? The answer is yes, absolutely.

So here you are laid in bed, silky pajamas adorning your curves, as you wrap the red cord of the landline around your manicured fingers. Awaiting a voice on the other end, as the phone continues to ring. You debate hanging up, this was embarrassing, surely the man that picks up will know what a desperate loser you are, so desperate you have to call a phone sex operator to help you get off. But your curiosity out weighed your pride at this point.

“Hello, thank you for calling dial-a-thrill, what’s your name?” The low husky voice greeted, knocking you right out of the back and forth thoughts playing ping pong in your mind.

“Hi, hello.” You replied, as all confidence left your body “m-my names, y/n.” You closed your eyes in shame, rubbing your hand down the side of your face, it’s been so long that you can’t even speak to the opposite gender without fumbling over your words, or it could be the insanely attractive voice of the man on the phone, that is making you lose all resolve.

“Nice to meet you y/n, my names Eddie. How are you this evening?” He mused, you could hear the hints of a smirk said through his words.

“I’m doing okay, how’s yours?” And you definitely sucked at small talk.

“Can’t complain now that I’m talking to you.” He flirted, you know he probably says that to everyone who calls in, but you couldn’t help the blooming heat of your cheeks at his admission.

You giggle like a little school girl, “well same here, Eddie.” You try out the same salacious tone he’s using, but end up cringing at yourself.

“What can I help you with tonight, sweetheart?” Your panties are ruined, you mind as well take them off now because if he keeps up with this you’ll be drenched. “Hmm, I don’t know, I just wanted to talk.” You responded, immediately realizing how desperate that sounds, you should’ve just hung up when you had the chance.

“Just to talk? Are you sure about that?” He laughs a little before continuing. “I mean, we can talk, don't get me wrong but people don’t usually call just to talk.” Yup, you were right, you are humiliated.

“Yeah, I’m sure they don’t, but um I’ve just I don’t know maybe this was a dumb idea, I’m sorry.” You almost slam the phone down back onto the receiver before you hear his voice again, “no, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or weird just because you want to talk. I don’t mind talking, sweet thing, I’m just not used to it, that's all.”

You bite your lip, mentally battling with yourself whether you want to continue, his voice once again knocks you out of your inner turmoil, “hello? Sweetheart?” — “mmm, yeah I’m here, sorry!” You say after clearing your throat. “Well what would you like to talk about? we can talk for as long as you'd like, but just to remind you, it is 5 dollars per hour.”

“Right, yeah I remember,” you clarified as you lay back into your pillows, getting more comfortable. “So, how do these calls usually go for you?” Probing purely out of curiosity, a little part of you wanting to know how this phone call could possibly go.

“Well, that depends on you, sweet thing.” He chuckles, “but, usually it’s women wanting me to help them get off.” He sighs, as if he’s deep in a memory, “mm, I see, so what do you usually say t-to help them?” You were aware Eddie could practically feel your nervous energy through the phone, “hey, baby. I can tell you’re nervous, I'm sure this is your first time doing this, but I promise you I'm not here to judge you, I don’t bite okay?” His voice going from an almost low growl to that of a tone with genuine compassion, it put you at ease and made you feel ten times more comfortable with the whole situation.

“Thank you, I needed that.” You lightly chuckle, “so, do you also touch yourself? Or, I mean I’m sure you get so many calls, sometimes you have to fake it.” You continue prodding until the conversation slowly goes in the right direction, in due time. He hums before he begins speaking, “I’ll be honest, I fake it about 80% of the time, after doing this so long you kind of get immune to the dirty talk and the moans.” You weren’t sure if you wanted that honesty, you definitely don’t want him to fake it with you.

After a beat of silence from you, as if he’s telepathically reading your mind through the phone he lets out a held breath softly distorting the sound on his side. “Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I’m trying to make you comfortable and now you’re probably going to be worried about whether what I’m doing or saying is real.” He huffs. “No, I mean yeah that was my first thought but I guess I asked so you’d answer honestly. You’re right, I’ve never done anything like this before and I’m just curious on how it all works.” You begin playing with the buttons on your silky top out of nervousness.

“That’s alright, I’ve never had anyone call in curious about any of this, so it’s a nice change. You just tell me what you’re comfortable with and I’ll follow along. How does that sound, baby?” His tone pulls you in like a siren's song. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You bite your lip, and begin rubbing at your pert nipple as you continue to speak. “Eddie?” Your voice sounded so soft, you almost didn’t recognize it. “Yes, sweetheart?” His voice, just as soft, answered. “Can you not pretend with me, please?” You sounded so delicate, so sweet. “I wasn’t planning on it, y/n.” His voice was wrapped in honey. ‘I wish I knew him outside of this’ pops into your head, but you quickly shake that thought away.

“Your voice is really sexy.” The burst of confidence makes your heart rate pick up. “Oh yeah?” His tone now cocky, you couldn’t help the movement of your right hand making its way into your little sleep shorts. “Mmhm, it is.” The words come out breathy. “Well thank you, sweet girl.” He says. “Mmm.” Is all you let out as you begin to rub your clit over your cotton panties, you can feel the very prominent wet spot in the center. “What are you doing, baby?” The seductive voice on the other end asks. “I have my hand in my shorts, I-I’m rubbing myself.” You say shyly.

Eddie’s eating it up on the other side, your innocence for what you’re engaging in, is really turning him on, he hasn’t been this aroused by a caller in what seems like forever. “How bout you take your little shorts off? Get comfortable.” He suggests, you oblige by lifting your hips and pulling your panties and shorts down in one go, dropping them off the side of your bed. “Okay, they’re off.” The last thing you wanted from this call was to feel desperate, yet here you are completely and utterly desperate for this man, who you didn’t even know. “Good girl,” his tone getting even more salacious, “open your legs up wide for me, baby.” You couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled out of your chest at his words, you’d never been talked to like this, it was sending you into an orbit and you began to wonder if he was really local to your area like the commercial said, what you would do to meet him in real life and have all these words whispered into your ear as he pounded into your pussy.

“You like that, baby? You wanna be my good girl?” As those words left his mouth, you began to sink a finger into your drenched hole. “Fuck yes, I wanna be your good girl, please?” You beg as your lower lip slightly puckers. “Listen to you baby, you’re a natural.” He says with a chuckle, “such pretty little noises. You’re makin’ my dick hard, sweet thing.” He growls, “mmm, am I really?” You’re continuing the assault on your pussy, pushing your finger all the way in to the second knuckle, but you need more so you add another. “I told you baby, I’m not faking it with you, you make the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, fuck!” He groans, you hear shuffling going on in the background. After adding the second finger you’re now letting out little sounds of “uh, uh” and “ah”. You can hear slick, wet sounds coming from him, “If I was there with you right now, what would you want me to do to you, baby?” He sounds breathless. “I would have your fingers inside of me, instead of mine. They’re too small.” You whine with a pout. “I would love to finger fuck you, baby.” He groans, “would you let me eat your pussy?” He sounds so needy, needy for you and it’s turning you on even more, if that’s possible. “I’ve never had anyone do that before.” You timidly say, “no? Well fuck now I wanna be the first guy to eat your pussy, make you feel so fucking good! I’d make you forget what your name was, after I’m done.” His breathing continues to pick up.

“Oh you’re cocky.” You giggle but it’s cut off by a guttural moan you let out after you take the wetness from your hole and begin rubbing your clit. “Fuck,” he moans before continuing. “I have a good reason to be.” He says with a heavy sigh. “Really? Why is that?” Your ministrations have picked up as the knot in your belly begins to tighten, “if you saw my dick in person you’d understand.” He chuckles, “describe it to me, Eddie.” You know the description is going to be what sends you over the edge. “It’s about 8 inches, cut and thick.” Your legs start shaking as you tense up your body, “keep going, omg please keep going.” You squeak. He laughs before he continues, “It’s so fucking hard right now, the tip is so red and I’m already leaking precum, baby.” The picture in your head is so vivid, god what you would do to be able to suck it, or bounce on it. “Eddie, fuck! It sounds so pretty.” The knot is wrapped so tight and your body is unbelievably tense. “Spit on it for me, baby and pretend it’s me on my knees, sucking your cock.” You were full of confidence now that you were on the verge of an earth shattering orgasm, “fuck, I’m the one suppose to be talking to you like that, but holy shit sweet thing, you’re about to make me cum. Are you close?” You debate on lying and edging yourself, you don’t want this phone call to end, but you can’t you’re already there and fuck does it feel amazing. “I’m cumming! Oh my god Eddie, I’m cumming!” You’ve never been a loud person in bed but you’ve also never been this turned on. If that says anything about your ex, then maybe you should be more appreciative that it ended.

“Fuck, I’m cumming too, baby!” You hear the slick noises get faster as Eddie’s moans get louder, as the crescendo of his orgasm crashes over him and now all you hear is the loud breathing of you both, coming down from your highs. “You still there?” He asks, after inhaling and exhaling a particularly deep breath. “Yeah, I’m still here.” You didn’t want this call to get awkward, you should probably just thank him for his time and hang up. “Do you wanna keep talking or are you good for the night?” His cocky laugh makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Well maybe I can call again, sometime?” You get up and slip your panties and shorts back onto your lower half. “Yeah baby, you can call whenever you like.” You can hear his smile, even though you can’t see it, but god you wish you could see it. “So if I were to call, say tomorrow same time, would you answer?” You ask nervously, “Well, I’m not supposed to do this and I never have, but I do have an extension number you can reach me on after dialing this one, if the line is busy then just hang up and try again until I answer, does that work?” You nod before remembering he can’t see you, “y-yeah, that works. What is it?” You dig in your side drawer pulling out an old receipt and pen, “it’s extension #045.” You scribble it down before throwing the pen back in the drawer, “okay, sounds good. You have a goodnight Eddie.” There was a giddiness to your tone, you hoped he didn’t pick up on. “Goodnight, baby. I’ll talk to you later?” He questioned, “yes, talk to you later.” You hang up and stand from your bed walking over to your mirror, sticking the number on one of the open spaces between the mirror and the wood encasing it.

You didn’t call Eddie until four days later, you were swamped with work and when you’d get home you were absolutely exhausted, you also didn’t wanna seem too eager so you were grateful work took up some of your time. But today was your day off and your plan was to stay home and talk to Eddie, maybe it’s stupid to spend your time talking to a phone sex operator but you can’t deny, he made you feel things you never have before.

When the clock hit 7:30pm you punched the number and the extension into the phone, to your disappointment it was busy, so you hung up and decided to occupy yourself for a little bit. After about 20 minutes you called back, Eddie almost immediately answered.

“Hello, thank you for calling dial-a-thrill, what’s your name?” You smile at the sound of his voice.

“Eddie, it’s y/n.” You were afraid the next time you called you’d feel as nervous as the last time, but luckily you had some sort of confidence this time round.

“Fuck, thank god! I had some real weirdos today.” He snorts “I haven’t heard from you, thought you wouldn’t end up calling back.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice. Wow, did he actually want to talk to you? A part of you thought he wouldn’t even remember you the next time you called, but here he is basically telling you he waited for your call, he thought about you. The thought made your cheeks rosy and made a warmth descend over your body.

“I’m sorry, I was really busy with work, and honestly way too exhausted, but luckily I didn’t have to go in today, so..” you trail off before he interrupts. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. Guess I was just excited to hear from you.” Your eyes slightly widen at his words, excited to hear from me? You silently asked yourself. “Yeah, right. How many women call in and hear that?” You cackled at your words, but Eddie stayed silent. “I actually don’t tell anyone that, just like I’ve never given out my direct extension.” He takes a deep breath, “look, I’m sure you have your thoughts about me considering what my job is, but when I speak to other women it’s about sex and that’s it, for me and them. They don’t care if they’re talking to me or some other guy, I-I know this is weird, given this is our second time talking on the phone, but I really felt this connection with you I’ve never felt, talking to anyone else.” Your stomach fills with butterflies, you knew you felt something, you just didn’t expect him to feel it too. You couldn’t help but do a little giddy dance at his words, you felt like you were dreaming. You’ve been pining over this man for days, unable to get him out of your mind and you don’t even know what he looks like, you only have his voice and personality to go based on and somehow that makes the connection feel deeper. “Hey, um are you really local to Indianapolis?” You sheepishly ask. “I actually live in Hawkins, so kind of.” He says, but his next words catch you totally off guard, “would you like to maybe meet up sometime?”

Thank you for reading!

[shares-a-vest]

@steddie-week Day Six: True

Call him a snap. A lovesick loser. A nerd. A guy who likes fantasy stories and make-believe a little too much. An idiot who is setting himself up for disappointment and heartbreak.

But Eddie Munson believes in True Love.

He has read the stories and been swept up in the romantic plotlines of his favourites. He creates NPCs for his campaigns with unnecessarily detailed backstories with whole lives set out for them. Then he uses them to write poems and short stories he keeps safe in his notebooks for no one to see, where everyone gets a sweeping grand love story and a 'happily ever after' waiting for them by the end.

He's well aware others catch on, especially after he starts dating Steve. Yeah, an actual real-life love story sweeps him off his feet and he lets his guard down. Dustin and Lucas call him, "a pathetic lameoid". Mike and Will descend into a chorus of gagging noises. Even the guys tease him for writing song lyrics featuring admittedly, very obvious saccharine declarations. George will give a "Yuck", Gareth practically sings out his disgusted "Ew" and Jeff gives perhaps the worst reaction of all...

"Eddie... just. No."

Steve might as well be a Prince. Or a Knight in shining armour. A combination of both, maybe? Mixed in with the weapons and demon-slaying expertise of a high-stats Barbarian who runs around shirtless.

When Steve visited him in the hospital, drugged-up delirium had Eddie's mind drifting to fairytales where he lay in a nightmare-riddled slumber as a blood-stained and beat-up version of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. Just laying in wait to be fixed by true love's kiss.

Steve calls Eddie his Prince sometimes when he's being all sappy and cute. It makes them both blush and giggle because, while it's romantic, it is also Steve trying desperately to sound impressive.

But Steve really is the Prince. Eddie insists on the matter. Even when he arrives at the trailer from a closing shift at Family Video, visibly tired with dark eyes, hair now flat and unstyled with a pained expression on his face as he blinks at a snail's pace.

"Thank god, I'm home" he sighs, voice cracking a little as he sets his keys down on the shelf near the front light switch.

Eddie snaps his book shut (A collection of Grimm Fairytales, no less), feeling all giddy at the thought Steve considers the place 'home'. But his glee doesn't last long as his homebound Prince barely toes off one of his sneakers before he clambers forward, arms unstretched in the direction of the couch.

Eddie catches him - or more, Steve collapses onto the couch and rolls into him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he panics, brushing back the mop of hair that has flopped in his face.

"I have a headache," Steve groans, talking into his makeshift pyjama top - an old Hawkins Tigers t-shirt, "Started as I was closing up."

Steve heaves his body against the couch, resting his head on the cushion back and screws his eyes shut. He fumbles with the buttons on his polo, failing to get anywhere near unbuttoning them. So, Eddie does it for him, barely finishing on the last one before Steve pops his shirt off and flings it halfway across the room.

Then Steve starts doing the same with his belt and fly as a wash of sickly paleness drains down his pretty face.

"I'll do it," he grumbles, pushing Steve's mighty paws away.

He helps there too, willing away a blush and a dirty joke as he loosens Steve's obscenely tight jeans. He isn't exactly sure how it works anatomically, but he is growing more certain with every headache that these damn jeans aren't doing him any favours (other than giving him a tight little, very squeezable, butt).

Steve puffs out what is vaguely a laugh before he slurs, "Think this is as far as you gonna get tonight, Eds."

He gestures at his underwear peaking out from his undone jeans.

"You want me to run you a bath? Squish you into the teeny-tiny combo?"

Steve sniffs under his arm and grimaces at himself.

"'Kay," he lolls his head back on the couch.

"Anything else?"

"Can you make me some tea?"

"Tea?" he questions.

He can't help it. Usually, he keeps his queries to a minimum when Steve is like this (which has been all too frequent lately) but this is a new request.

"Wayne made me some last week when I had a migraine."

"This is the first I'm hearing of it," he says, and in lieu of a physical presence, he glares at his uncle's recliner chair.

Steve smiles at the ceiling, his eyelids softening with a light flutter as he hums, presumably thinking about this magic tea Wayne is most definitely being interrogated about first thing in the morning.

"'S'nice," Steve shrugs.

"That old man with his tea collection like he's some old English Granny."

"Stops me from feeling sick."

Eddie leans over and pecks his deceptively-hot cheek. Stinky and on the precipice of a migraine or not, Steve is still his Prince Charming. He pauses there. Steve must feel his breath lingering because his lip quirks, threatening a smile and he opens his eyes.

"What?" he asks, a teasing tone dancing in there somewhere as he blinks slowly.

Eddie takes his hand and squeezes it.

"Let me kiss you."

"Okay," Steve replies and puckers his lips without moving an inch.

"True love's kiss will make you feel better, promise," he whispers as he closes the distance between them and presses a soft kiss to Steve's lips.

Steve squeaks out a noise and Eddie can feel his frown as he murmurs, "You're so silly."

[chainofhyrule]

Hi! I did read the rules and saw nothing about this beinga no but feel free to ignore this of you cant/don't want to/not comfortable with this, I saw you request where open and wanted to request a cuddley/touch starved hyrule, like he wants to cuddle and be held but doesn't know how to ask for it so instead he does other little things like, sitting more closely to reader or leaving leaves in his hair cause he knows reader will pick them out or even food or dirt on his face, I'll leave it to you to decide if reader catches on or not on whats he's doing, it can either be romantic or platonic (I prefer romantic but you do what your comfortable with), please and thank you 💚

Sorry for the wait! It’s kinda short, but honestly—✨fluff✨

Such cute asks! Thank you both so, so very much!!!

(and thank you anon—I will try to remember)

Roses Without Thorns

Hyrule was never good at holding a smug face for long. Sure, when he was joking with the others, he could snicker and grin just as well as any of the rest of them…but when it came to you? He couldn’t hold smugness in his eyes to save his life.

According to the vet, his eyes practically turned to hearts, instead.

There was little Hyrule felt he could do about his view of you. You always just seemed so…kind to him. You cared for him. You…cared for all of them, really, but…Hyrule couldn’t help but hope. After all…you were always more than willing to help him out whenever he’d asked…

Currently, he sat in the dirt in front of you, his back propped up against your shins. Behind him, you sat comfortably on a log in the clearing Wolfie had found for the group to settle for the evening. As some of the others had begun to peel away layers of armour, Hyrule had come to you requesting some help detangling his hair from the tumble he had taken through some bushes downhill earlier. It had left several small twigs, leaves, and even pieces of soft bark in his hair, which you agreed to help with in a heartbeat. That smile on your face as you beckoned for him to sit…

Hyrule’s fantasies were plucked too soon by a couple of the others, namely the Captain and the Sailor, approached with inquisitive eyes, and knowing smirks.

He couldn’t bring himself to pay too much attention to their words; as far as he knew, they were just babbling about something unimportant. All Hyrule could seem to focus on was your hands in his hair, carefully pulling out twigs and leaves, as your fingers gently combed through a few tangles, as well.

It was always nice, he thought, to be taken care of so carefully. So considerably. It wasn’t something he was used to. Sure, to be taken care of by his brothers was one thing…but with you it just felt…nicer. Warmer. Like he could easily just spend hours right here, as long as he could stay sitting next to you.

He worried this made him come off as clingy, or strange. Always trying to find an excuse to feel just a glimpse of that warmth again. Maybe asking for help to detangle his hair. Maybe wiping his cheek for him when his hands were full. Maybe just…walk next to him, so he has someone to talk to?

Goddess above, he must seem like such a loser…vying for attention like a touch-starved child. He hoped…you didn’t mind. There would always be that little voice in his head telling him he was bothering you, though. Despite how strongly he wished it wouldn’t.

It was the only downside to wanting to be closer to you. There were nine of them, after all. Nine heroes of courage, all equally as entitled to your attention as the others. Was he selfish for wanting your attention to himself like this? Even if only for a little bit? Whatever the answer, and whatever the case…he didn’t want to back off. He liked being close to you. He liked talking to you. He liked being your friend.

…He liked you.

The atmosphere was calm, at least. Wild was at the cooking pot, with Four and Twilight at his either side to help. Time sat close behind, removing his gauntlets. The others all seemed to be doing their own things, with the two of you tucked somewhat close to the edge of the clearing. That was fine, though. He liked the space. He loves his brothers, of course…but he just wanted to enjoy the serenity of your proximity for a bit, is all. Nothing wrong with that, right?

…Right?

Hyrule wasn’t sure how long had passed until you had seemed to manage to free his hair from the terrible mess he’d put it in. When you announced that it was done, he smiled, and ran his own fingers through his hair, surprised at the absolute lack of knots or plant life of any kind. He craned his neck back to look up at you, his head fallen back over your knees. It was…perhaps a bit too cute.

“Thank you, y/n,” he said quietly, smiling as though there was nothing better in the world to smile about.

You nodded in return, and gave your own warm little grin, crooked, and perfect. Your hands rested on your thighs, and Hyrule had to consciously restrain himself from wanting just a little bit more…maybe a hug? Would you give him one, if he asked? He was sure you would…you were just too nice not to. But…the question was…could he ask?

Seems he didn’t need to. A minute or so had passed of him just sitting in front of you, unwilling to move just yet. Despite Hyrule’s own worries or insecurities…you enjoyed spending this time with him, as well. Having someone to look out for, even if there were 8 others, was nice. Having someone want your company, or your conversation, or even just your presence…was nice.

When Hyrule made no effort to move, you decided he ought not to feel he had to. So, you bent forward a bit, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind.

Hyrule, in no short order, froze. You were hugging him. He didn’t even have to ask! You were so warm…he loved it.

…Perhaps this wasn’t too bad.

Actually, no, he loved it. Loved being close to you. Loved talking to you. Loved being your friend.

…And who was he fooling, really?

He loved you.

(Tap here to return to Masterlist)

[yandere-avatar]

Yandere! Team Korra Headcanons

Wishing my friend a happy birthday! <3 [Even though he's kind of a loser]

You met Korra first, since she was the Avatar. You were smitten with her, but thought she was out of your league, so you didn't pursue

The next person you met was Bolin and he was sweet and quick to sweep you off your feet

You slowly become part of Team Avatar. You fit in well and Bolin makes it easier for you to fit in

When learning you are not a bender, Asami is quick to teach you how to defend yourself. Besides, you're dating boys who are brothers

You become very close and anyone can see it. In fact, Bolin becomes a little jealous and you both get into a fight

"Well, maybe we should break up!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!" And then you leave, letting your words really sink into Bolin's mind. He knows he fucked up

You do eventually make up again, but you don't want to date him again

Mako didn't like you for a while, for hurting his brother's feelings, but once he spends some one on one time with you, a thought in the back of his mind appears. You were out of Bolin's league and maybe it was for the best you both broke up... Besides, he could probably treat you better anyway

He tries to get you to like him, even though he knows it's wrong

Bolin's not happy about it, but seeing you happy makes him all giddy and happy, so he let's go of his resentment. Though, he's still protective over you, so if his brother breaks your heart, he'll beat him up

Asami finds out you're dating Mako, even though you tried to hide it, because they used to date, but she seems okay with it-

Well, that's not true. You suspect she's jealous- But not because you're dating him, but because he's dating you?

She'll bring up bad things he did when she was dating him

"I just want you to have the best, because that's what you deserve and while he is my friend even after everything, I still think you deserve better"

Girl was out to ruin your relationship from the beginning

Though, Mako being Mako, he does end up fucking up the relationship on accident

He tried to apologize, but you couldn't forgive him

You found comfort in Asami, just like she wanted

You avoid dating her for a while, in fear of being a 'Homie hopper'

When you and Mako get back on better terms, you talk about it with him

He seemed okay with it, though he'd rather you be single, but he knows Asami, so you'll still be close to him, even if you date Asami

Korra was always sweet to you, but never anything that made you think she felt something special about you

You two are friends, but don't date, not until later, when she starts doubting her abilities

You're there for her and she gains an emotional attachment to you

She realizes she's in love with you, but you're dating Asami

Asami has been so good to her, just like you, so she couldn't betray Asami like that

Bolin and Korra are much more laid back and more willing to let you do as you please

You can get away with a lot more with them. Especially Bolin

Asami and Mako are stricter and restrict what you can and can't do

Mako is the strictest and you can't get anything past him

Asami wants you to like her and when realizing you get along better with Korra and Bolin, she tries to be more laid back

Though, when Korra gets hurt, you try and stay with her

She tells you no- The world needs protector, especially since she can't do it. She also doesn't want you seeing her like this. She feels weak and helpless

Korra is the only one who hides her feelings for you

The only way you find out is because she accidentally lets it slip to Asami

Asami is surprisingly open to the idea of a throuple

She knows that she can't always protect you, but Korra can. You'd always be safe if you were with Korra

They try and make you seem weaker than you are, because they all want to protect you

They know that something is wrong with them and with each other, but they find peace in that they all feel the same way for you. They love you, so who cares if other people don't understand- They do.

[youremyheaven]

For anuradha/pushya guy anon, some crafty mercurial/venusian advice (😈), don’t believe what guys say, only pay attention to actions. Don’t be too trusting until he has proven his worth. Be very suspicious if he is showering you in affection on the first date, he is only wanting to get something out of you! Both parties should treat the other as strangers, if he’s coming on way too strong and is essentially love bombing you, don’t take him seriously or watch him closely cause he could be off. If you can’t do hookups then don’t but if you do, expect the kind of behavior you experienced. Honestly, avoid dating apps like the plague. I’m of the opinion that we find who we’re meant to find and everything else is a distraction—you’ll find more of those fuckboy types the more you use apps (attracts performative attention-seeking types as much as normal folks), great guys I’ve met, I’ve met offline. You’ll hopefully find less losers irl. Men with messy boundaries like that are corny and lame 😒. Don’t believe a man who says they want something casual until they have proved mature and aware of the requirements for such an arrangement. They will usually want a mother and sexual object that they can summon and dismiss at their every sassy little whim. Don’t waste your time. That or they have relationship trauma. Not your job.

Make sure not care very much about the entire affair (maybe my Solar AK talking), be detached, confident, and maintain firm boundaries. This will repel lames like this guy. It will also attract more men the higher you hold your head and the more confident and unbothered you are—this also intimidates the other discardable men as well. Ultimately, the more you become yourself, the better your romantic prospects are! Partners, especially male ones, are not the goal but an addition. Centering and prioritizing them will only slow you down to becoming the bad bitch you are meant to be 😍😈. Especially since so many are immature, manipulative, insecure and weak-willed these days, just keep in the back of your mind that “this man needs to prove he is not an inconvenience to my life or get out of my way”. Don’t be in danger, BE the danger! I don’t mean that literally but don’t hesitate on being a bit ruthless.

That’s my dating advice, for saturn men (and all men) don’t blow smoke up their ass and actually be more humbling towards them. If you’re standing on business they tighten up quick—apparently Saturnians are not for the faint of heart 😮‍💨! Don’t let him win you over too easy. Be sweet but elusive (centered around yourself, if you forget about the guy during the day you’re doing good), be kind but unshakable. Command respect in your presence and it will be given as a reflex in dating. Not saying don’t be soft and loving, but the post-capitalist algorithm ego-polluted dating scene we have is basically a battlefield at this point in my eyes. Honestly I’ve found when a saturn man is intimidated by you they act properly. Don’t play it safe if you know how to put men in their place—clearly their mamas and daddies ain’t doin it…saturn men might also run away if they don’t feel worthy or insecure if they aren’t toxic and misogynistic. It is likely they will have something toxic around them or some kind of trauma or difficulty; I am yet to meet a Saturnian without heavy struggles. I have them too so I don’t mind, but be aware. If you do catch their eye as a relationship prospect, they will probably be weird because they feel vulnerable. They will probably confuse the hell out of you too but you just have to be stable in yourself, warm towards them and let them feel safe and seen, and never give up your autonomy. If they aren’t the worst, it is still a shot in the dark if you’ll get anywhere since it’s very likely there’s SOMETHING you’ll trigger if you reach their heart. Be patient with it if you feel the trouble is worth it. :)

Be safe and stay confident!

this is good advice for anybody in general<3

"Command respect in your presence and it will be given as a reflex in dating."🥵🥵🔥🔥🔥OHHH U ATEEE WITH THIS 1

[hatchetblogging]

Reddie fic: "Something you cherish the most"

The Losers Club get their hands on The Abominable Tome, an ancient book filled with spells and rituals that originated in a small town in Michigan but somehow ended up in Derry.

There was a ritual to hold court with the void, a way to summon entities with powers beyond human comprehension.

Entities that could help them defeat Pennywise.

Because the only thing that will ever defeat a monster is another monster.

They perform the ritual, hearing distant voices whispering to them, as they invoke the names..."Pokotho...Bliklotep.T'noy Karaxis......Nibblenephim. .. . Wiggog Y'rath" over and over again, their own voices mingling with the otherwordly whispers.

"Did it work?" Mike asks before everything goes dark.

Piercing through the darkness comes a voice that speaks, "Hello, Fwendy-wends" followed by a dazzling flash of pink, blue, green, yellow, and purple lights."

When the darkness lifts, The Losers Club are in the presence of the Lords in Black.

"Don't worry. We'll get rid of Penny-wenny for you, children." Wiggog Y'rath speaks in a sickingly child like manner. "we'll send him right down to Drowsy Town"

The Losers' Club had no idea how they knew who was speaking or how they managed to match the names with the faces; it's as if that information had already been embedded in their brains.

"Gobble up it's soul like it gobbled up all those kids!" Nibblenephim pipes up in a gleeful manner.

"But everything must come with a prize." Pokotho speaks, his voice almost melodic "We can't just help you for free!"

"We'll give you whatever you want!" Beverly's tone is desperate. "Just get rid of..of it."

"Whatever we want!!!" Wiggog Y'rath gasps exaggeratedly. "That's veeery generous!" He turns to his brothers, "did you hear that? We could have whatever we want!"

"This is gonna be so much fun!!!" T'noy Karaxis says in a menacingly cheery tone.

"Let me think, what do I want" Wiggog Y'rath says thoughtfully before a grin spreads on his face. "I know!" he turns to the Losers Club. "One of you has to give up the one thing they cherish the most!"

"The one thing we cherish the most?" Richie speaks. "Like..like my comic book collection? Is that what you want?! My comic book collection--"

"WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR COMIC BOOK COLLECTION!" the Lords in Black snap at Richie causing him and the other Losers to back away.

"We want something... important." Wiggog Y'rath explains in a controlled tone. "Something that you can't afford to lose."

"You're talking about people we love, right?" Stan speaks. "The one thing we cherish the most is the people we love."

At Stan's words Richie suddenly comes to a realisation. Richie's heart beats rapidly in his chest as he takes a glance at Eddie.

"But we all love each other." Stan continues. "We all cherish each other the most."

"Ah, but one of you has someone very special to them" Bliklotep speaks in an almost teasing manner. "Everyone can see it!"

Richie starts trembling and he swallows a lump in his throat.

One of you harbors a naughty little secret," Wiggog Y'rath sneers. "one of you has a favorite," he adds, tilting his head with each syllable. The Lord in Black steps closer to the children, extending his hand. "Isn't that right..."

Richie shuts his eyes tight, anticipating the hand to land on him. His breath quickens, shallow and frantic, as his mind races with terrifying possibilities.

"--Edward?" The mention of Eddie's name causes Richie's eyes to snap open and he quickly turns to look at the other boy sitting close to him.

Richie sees that Wiggog Y'rath's attention is on Eddie, "We know who has a hold on you." the green being speaks, a menacing look on his face. "We know who you cherish the most."

"Eds?" Richie finally finds his voice to ask. "What.. who's he talking about?"

"Who indeed, Eddie?" Wiggog Y'rath taunts "Are you willing to give him up?"

Eddie's entire body is trembling as tears stream down his face. He quickly grabs Richie's arm and murmurs "No," burying his face in Richie's shoulder in an attempt to hide from all that's happening.

"No?" Wiggog Y'rath sounds slightly affronted. "well aren't you selfish? It's just one person, and it's such a small price to pay for the lives of so many children." The green guy sneers. "But you always were a brat. Weren't you, Eddie-Spaghetti?"

Richie could feel Eddie's grip tighten on his arm, "I won't let them take you, Rich." Eddie whispers against the fabric of Richie's shirt, causing Richie's breath to hitch in his throat.

"If you want us to get rid of Pennywise, you have to give us what we want." Wiggog Y'rath speaks, his voice firm. "Pay the price...or fuck off!"

And with that The Lords in Black all disappear, leaving the Losers Club alone and feeling more hopeless than they did before.

[rileytwenty]

Leyra || the Albino Na'vi

(Neteyam x OC)

MASTERLIST/PLAYLIST/PICS

Chapter 6

"What are you talking about? We aren't just going to stop seeing each other." Neteyam was flabbergasted by this request.

Her voice started quivering for reasons she didn't understand. How long had she known this boy, a few weeks? "I like you, Neteyam. If you have to-- want to-- pick someone else to be your Tsahik, that's fine-"

"Maybe you will be my Tsahik," he blurted. She had no idea how incredibly vulnerable he was being. He was asking her to be with him. He was proposing her to be his mate.

Though, she never in a million years thought he could be being serious. He was obviously grasping at threads. "Be realistic, Neteyam. Your family would sooner arrange my murder."

His chest ached at what he interpreted as her rejecting him. But he cared too much for her, enjoyed her presence too much, to let her slip away. If she would not accept his offer of forever, he could settle on having her just for now.

"Please, Leyra." He grasped her hands in his. "Even if you will not be my Tsahik, we still have a year. Please, please, don't give up the time we do have."

She didn't like hearing him so desperate. "Neteyam-"

"No, no, wait. I have something for you." He tried to distract her, to remind her of all the good parts of him and not of his obligations. He pulled the gift out of the small pouch in his loincloth.

Leyra made the mental connection as he slipped the bracelet on her wrist, her eyes flitting to his necklace. Just as she suspected, it was missing a row of beads.

She knew what a big gesture of affection this was.

"Neteyam." Her tone was serious, almost scolding. She reached out to touch his neck garment. "Why did you maim your necklace like this?"

"I wanted you to have something of claim on you. This should ward off all the other scrawny loser boys for a while."

She rolled her eyes. "Right, because I have masses of guys chasing after me at all times."

Eyebrows furrowing, he commented, "You should. If only they knew what they were missing! Actually, wait, no. Never mind. I prefer things the way they are; no competition."

She sighed, contemplating his earlier request to try to cherish their remaining time. After a pause that seemed to stretch on forever for Neteyam, she said, "How am supposed to enjoy you when I know you are not mine, hmm?"

He sighed, confused by the girl's feelings when she had just turned down his mating offer. "I don't like it either, but I don't want to lose you."

She pressed their foreheads together and Neteyam's heart faltered in its rhythm. He closed his eyes, willing the moment to last.

"Let's enjoy it while we can, right?" She relented.

"Yes." He seconded instantly, happy to hear her agreement.

And so they continued on with their afternoon, now enjoying everything more after realizing their time is limited.

They went for another ikran ride, and Neteyam took the peaceful route this time. He took them someplace he knew no one would spot them.

They didn't speak many words but communicated much based on how tightly they held on to each other.

At one point while coasting, Neteyam intertwined his fingers with Leyra's. She squeezed his hand and looked up at him to find him watching her and not where he was flying.

"Eyes on the sky, 'Teyam. If we hit something or crash land, I'll kill you." She hadn't thought twice about saying the nickname out loud when she usually only calls him that in her head.

Neteyam's ears perked up and his tail swished. He certainly thought twice about it. More than that, in fact. What did she mean by this? She had rejected his mating proposal less than an hour ago, and now she was giving him cute nicknames that made his heart swell?

"Yes, ma'am," He teased at her authoritarian request. She smiled and he was proud to be the cause.

She breathed in the crisp mountain air and leaned back into him, closing her eyes in peace. He didn't mind, and wrapped the arm that had their hands intertwined around her torso.

Soon, Neteyam knew he had to get back before people came looking for him. "I hate to disturb your pretty self, but I have to get back about now."

She sighed and opened her eyes, a frown weaving its way into her features. "Okay. Drop me off at the cave? I'd ask you to drop me off at camp, but I don't think you want us being seen together."

Neteyam's eye flinched. She was right; he had been successfully avoiding his parents finding out about him hanging around her. He wanted to cherish her while he could, before the wrath of his family fell upon them. "Yeah... Maybe that would be better."

She was heartbroken by his confirmation of her fears. He was ashamed to be hanging around with the freak. How had she ever convinced herself otherwise?

"Yeah, thanks," she managed, swallowing away the lump forming in her throat.

He dropped her at the cave entrance, kissing her forehead. His hand lingered on her cheek longer than he should have let it. She made it clear, she did not want to be his Tsahik.

She took this with pain. She wanted him more than he could ever understand, but she loved him too much to ask him to be with her. He was all she wanted but he could never be hers. Every possible odd was against them, and she didn't think he cared enough for her to try to fight against them.

She watched him fly away as eclipse approached, and her father landed above the waterfall not soon after.

"Daughter? What happened? Are you hurt?" Her father asked, circling around her and looking her over.

She didn't understand why he reacted this way. "What? No, I'm- I'm fine."

"Then why are you crying?"

What? She swiped her cheek, and sure enough, there were tears dripping down her skin. "Oh, I..."

He waited for her to continue.

"I'm fine. It's nothing, father. Let's go home?"

taglist: @kachowness @fanboyluvr @dakotali @anxietydrogz

[kentwells]

who am i to ask for more, more, more

i haven't written fic in at least four years (maybe five which is batshit time is really a bitch) but i was so desperate for more fic abt these losers that i had to write some. title is from "waiting room” by phoebe bridgers!

i love the careers because they are obviously lethal and terrifying and brainwashed and insane. but also the scenes in the movie where they're running up to the water & laughing at the other tributes? they were raised without childhoods but they are also your average teenage bullies and it's so interesting to me. that is like. what i was getting at here. they did not realize being kids was a choice.  also huge thanks to @clatoera​ for talking endless stuff abt domesticity & ambition with regards to cato & clove!! and giving me some inspiration for the scene by the lake thank you so much for reading <3

AO3 link | fic under the cut off

When the 12M announces his love for the 12F, Clove rolls her eyes. It is, however, interesting enough for her to look at the screen instead of staring off into space. His cheeks are flushed pink, his eyes like a child’s. The district stylists might have forced Clove to look like a child, with a puffy orange dress and even puffier hair, but at least she doesn’t speak like one. The Capitol seems to think it something interesting, judging by the way the audience gasps. 

Cato lets out a harsh laugh, the same way he does whenever someone drops a weapon. Clove meets his eyes, and they share their 800th moment of knowing that no one else takes this half as seriously as they do. 

“This is a problem,” Brutus says.

“In what world?” Clove asks, rolling her eyes. Kids get crushes every day. She doesn’t know how many girls she’s ‘accidentally’ let a knife get too close to because they wouldn’t shut up about Cato in the dormitory. Even she has them. But she’s capable of ignoring it. Her heart can flutter all it wants to when Cato grabs her wrist, she’s still going to pull her shit together and wrench it out of his grip. Peeta, who only showed his strength after Katniss told him to and is willing to blush in front of all of Panem, is not going to be capable of that.

“It’s an angle?” Cato guesses. She can tell that he’s trying not to continue laughing, nervous to upset his mentor the night before the games.

Clove smirks. “A terrible one,” she says. “That’s basically saying you don’t give a shit about winning, who would sponsor that?”

“No one,” Lyme says. “But they’d sponsor the girl who kicked your asses in front of the Gamemakers and has a compelling enough personality for someone to love”. 

“Luckily, neither Cato or Clove are really going for lovable”, their escort laughs, though her eyes are still on the screen. 

Lyme’s eyes glint at her in the cold, detached way Clove has practiced in the mirror. “Long day tomorrow. Time for bed, I think.”

Clove takes the longest, hottest shower she’s had in years. Once her skin is burning and raw, she puts on a loose pair of pants and an impossibly soft blue shirt. When she gets out of the bathroom, Cato is on her bed, sprawled out like a puppy searching for attention. 

“Can you not get my pillows wet?” Clove climbs in next to him. Unlike the Center beds, these can actually fit both of them. Cato says nothing, just staring up at the ceiling, so Clove continues. “You don't even have to do any work to dry off here.”

“Who gives a shit, you have 20.” He tucks an arm around her waist, and she wraps a leg over his in practiced comfort. She doesn’t even give him shit for still being wet. It seems like a waste of breath right now. “12M’s an annoying little shit,” Cato says as she leans her head on his shoulder. 

Clove grunts. She agrees, of course. Her mind is still thick with Lyme’s suggestion that the 12M’s idiocy will reel in the sponsors. And every time she closes her eyes, she sees the spinning 11 superimposed over the 12F’s face, like a target she’s trying to hit.

“He’s not special for liking a girl.”

“I thought you were annoying, but you’re a fucking saint compared to him,” Clove snorts. He pinches her side.

“C’mon, Clover, that’s the lowest bar in Panem.”

“Give him some credit, it’s hard to be more annoying than you.” Clove grins at him, but it quickly turns to scorn. “He’s an idiot,” she says. “He wasn’t winning anyway, but his chances went from one percent to zero when he decided to commit to that act.”

Cato kisses the crown of her head. “He wasn’t winning anyway, let him have a last few moments of fun.”

For a second, Clove thinks Cato’s going to slide his hand up her shirt and go for his own last few moments of fun. Instead, he gently nudges her head off of his shoulder, shifts to one side and presses his head deeper into the pillow. “See you tomorrow,” Clove whispers.

 ࿏

 Cato is loyal to District 2 and to the Capitol. He didn’t need to be told twice, his eyes lit up when he first saw someone win the Hunger Games and they haven’t darkened since. These thoughts drum through his head on careful repeat, so loud that he couldn’t think something else if he wanted to. He eats on auto-pilot, creating a meal as close to what the Centre would give him as possible. Azalea, his jittery, pink-haired stylist sits across from him, eating nothing.

“Clove is about five minutes behind you,” she titters. 

Cato doesn’t respond. Clove is back in District 2, watching the stream with the rest of the Center kids. Azalea retrieved him from the 2F’s room this morning.

At this point, there is nothing for Cato to do. No one for him to spar, no one to beat. He settles for keeping his mind as blank as possible so that he doesn’t tire himself out. It’s a relief when he rises into the arena, to see the other tributes and the Cornucopia.

He waits a second after the cannon, having been warned one too many times about the possibility of dying from overeagerness. It’s satisfying to watch the tributes on either side of him peel away, clearly desperate to get as far away from him as possible. He has a good foot on the girl to his right, so he goes after her first. She doesn’t see him coming when he tackles her to the ground.  

Once he’s heard enough cracking from her bones and she’s coughing up blood, he pushes himself up and glances around for weapons. He sees a few swords and spears decorating the Cornucopia walls. A few feet before he reaches them, he sees a pack of knives, the kind Clove could strap around her waist. 

“Clove!” He shouts. The breath leaves his body when he spots her in hand to hand combat with one of the older girls. The second she glances up, he tosses the knives her way. Clove’s eyes light up the second she sees them. The older girl, who’s taller than Clove but made of nothing but bone, looks hopeful when Clove darts around her, and begins to make a run for it.

When one of the knives hits her calf, she falls, and Clove flashes Cato an absolutely lethal smile before kicking her over and slitting her throat. “I’ve got the 12F!” She shouts, breaking into a run across the edge of the clearing, and Cato turns to pick a sword. 

He just about blacks out for the rest of it. Kids die. He kills them. Someone makes a very half-hearted attempt to kill him and he snaps their neck. He had expected it to be more difficult, but everyone who ran towards the Cornucopia was hoping for a quick death instead of trying to avoid it.

“Let’s tally,” Clove says, cleaning one of her knives on her jacket. She’s lectured him about 800 times on proper knife care, and this does not qualify, but a good quality cleaning kit is probably too much to ask for. 

“Can we take a lap?” Glimmer asks, hands on her hips. “Some of them might have grabbed supplies, and there were definitely a few bodies with weapons sticking out of them.” She clears her throat. “And not to state the obvious, but why are you here?” She turns to 12M, who is inexplicably standing near them. 

Clove will give him credit for looking impressively unlike a deer in headlights and starting to speak for himself, but Cato beats him to it. “He’s leading us to his district partner.”

So he must not love her. Clove is taken aback by that – not because she believes in the purity of outer district crushes, but because she would have at least hoped he had a reason to sound like such an idiot on national television. “Does she believe all of the love bullshit?” she asks.

12M shrugs, and Clove can’t really be bothered to press. “Let’s do Glimmer’s idea and make sure we get everything before the hovercrafts come around.” Glimmer beams at her, and Clove turns toward the fallen tributes. She holds the knives she finds in her hand so that she can figure out how to clean them, and stalks around the clearing.

“I think you got blood on your jacket,” 12M says. He’s putting on a layer of bravado, but Clove sees right through it to the nerves. 

“Wait, was there blood around here lately?” Clove asks, her eyes wide and her voice saccharine sweet. “I must not have noticed!” She flashes him a grin that’s all teeth and turns back to the Cornucopia. They’re all covered in it – Cato’s hair is basically red, though given his height that’s probably from being flashy more so than real necessity.

“I’m Peeta,” he says, absentmindedly. From the slightly apprehensive way he looks at the bodies at their feet, he wouldn’t have lasted two years in the Center. Clove curses herself for not having slightly better aim, because if 12F was dead, she could just knife him and be done with it. 

“Clove.”

Once everything is collected and reasonably organized, the sun is starting to set. They agree not to set a fire before they need to, settling instead for the food that will go bad soon. Clove eats her apple and watches Glimmer and Cato from across the circle. She’s directly opposite them, so if anyone questions her, she can say she’s just staring into space. 

It's not like someone would, anyways. Marvel and Marina seem to have figured out that they aren't going to win, and even if 12M is still stupid enough to think that he has a chance, Clove could have him dead before he finished his sentence. Glimmer curls into Cato’s side under the pretense of warming herself up and attracting sponsors. Clove starts to feel a flicker of something detached. She wants more than anything to make a joke about how their matching hair makes them look like siblings, but that would ruin any chance of horny Capitolites sending them shit. 

She can save it until after the pack breaks. 

Glimmer adjusts herself so that her head is lying in Cato’s lap, and her body is curled on the ground. Clove catches Cato’s eye, and they both try not to laugh. Clove will give her some credit though — her head and vital organs are protected, and her back is to the Cornucopia. Glimmer may be annoying, but at least her survival instincts are decent. 

“Think it’s dark enough to hunt?” Marvel asks.

Instinctively, Clove’s hands go to her vest to run her fingers over her knives. “Hold on, I want to see who’s dead.”

As if on cue, the first bars of the Anthem appear. “Cato, tally?” He grins at her. “How the fuck did you get blood in your teeth?” she mocks, and his grin only widens. It's not really the arrogant smirk he’s been giving cameras for a week, much more the one he gives her after he bashes her with a pillow or plays a prank on his little sister.

Clove and Cato each have three, Glimmer and Marvel managed two apiece, and no one’s sure who got the last one. 

Countless trainers had warned her with sharp words, how dangerous it was to go into the Arena with a friend. Clove had worried about it, because she hadn’t gotten this far by ignoring the trainers, but everything was fine once they were in the Arena. She’s spent most of the last twelve years fighting with and against Cato. This is routine.

 ࿏

 Clove knows well enough to step away from Cato when he’s this angry. Her biggest reaction is to tilt her head to get a better look at the mangled way 3M’s neck holds his head and body together. It’s not that she’s scared – if she was really concerned, she could easily snap a knife somewhere fatal, especially with his reflexes slowed by emotion – more so that he’ll burn himself out soon enough. No one, not even Cato, can hold enough anger to throw a long-ass tantrum.

Out of the corner of her eye, Clove sees Marvel slowly backing away, three packs of supplies strapped to his body and spear in hand.

“Is the alliance over?” Clove calls out. He turns, slightly scared, to look at her. She grins, imagining how easy it would be to kill him right now for trying to sneak off. 

“I should think so,” Marvel says. “You should run from this bullshit while you can.”

Clove doesn’t even have to think in order to give him the coldest glare she can. “I don’t need to,” she says, her eyes immediately snapping back to Cato. Clove pulls herself up to a ledge of the Cornucopia and watches him rage.

She’s right, per usual. He kicks a pile of ashen supplies and lands on his back, and stays there, silently staring at the sky for a little while. He’s breathing hard enough for her to see his chest rise and fall. Clove jumps off the Cornucopia and walks towards him, eventually standing by his side and blocking the sun from his eyes.

“The Career alliance is over,” she says, offering him a hand. He uses it to pull himself up, and cards a hand through his hair. It’s too short for that, hair buzzed regulation short last week before the Reaping, but he does it anyways. “Not like any of them were much use,” Clove continues.

“Sticking together?” Cato asks. His voice is confident, but his eyes search hers. She’s half a step ahead in strategy most of the time, and smart enough to know he’s the biggest threat against her, all too comfortable ducking her knives and exploiting the few weak points she has.

He imagines them in the final two, the way they’ve talked about since they were eight, and how one of them will kill the other in a way that’s interesting enough to create an iconic story, but not too painful for the others. He thinks that he’ll kill Clove as quickly as possible and hack it to pieces until the hovercraft arrives. Clove’s eyes glint, something half steel and half something else. “Obviously.”

 ࿏

 “Tributes,” Claudius Templesmith’s voice booms through the woods around them, and Clove skids to a stop. “For the 74th annual Hunger Games, I am pleased to announce a rule change.” Clove turns to look at Cato. The Centre has stuffed her mind with hundreds of ways to play, but the only Capitol-created rule she can think of is ‘kill as many people as you can’. He looks just as confused as she feels, glancing around like Claudius Templesmith is hiding in one of the trees. “Under the new rule, both tributes from the same district will be declared Victors if they are the last two alive.”

“Under the new rule, both tributes from the same district will be declared Victors if they are the last two alive,” he repeats. His voice is even, as if they were too stupid to understand the first time, but it turns to wicked as he says “May the odds be ever in your favor” and his voice disappears as quickly as it came.

Clove is paralyzed, unsure of what comes next. Cato acts first, hoisting her up and knotting a hand in her hair. His hand sliding beneath her hair tie like he needs to be as close to her as possible. He’s probably mashing blood into her scalp, but there’s plenty of that there anyways. Her arms are around his neck, probably the first time they’ve ever been there without her making a move to cut off his air supply. Cato’s breathing is so heavy against her chest that she can feel herself shift with it. “Hi,” Clove mutters, because it’s all she can really think to do. 

Cato spins her around once before setting her down, but his arms stay on her waist. She leaves her arms on his shoulders, grip loose and easy. He looks at her with a new type of intensity, almost hopeful. “We’re winning this shit,” Clove tells him, without a single doubt in her mind.

He picks her up and swings her around again, and she would scream if he didn’t do this every time he was bored. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” Fuck the girl on fire, this is fucking fire, burning every obstacle in her path and making her future crystal clear.

Cato drops his pack and sits down, and Clove tumbles down next to him. Every bone in her body feels looser, itching for a fight but positive she’ll – they’ll – win it. She crosses her ankles over his, not bothering with any pretenses. They can both go home. No sense in making sure everyone knows how fast she could kill him. 

“I’m serious, Cato,” she says. She knows she sounds like a kid, but she can’t help it. If she had an ounce less of self respect, she would be jumping like a rabbit. “Serious. We can take anyone.” She glances around for where a camera might be, but decides to keep looking at Cato. “I’ve got long range, you’ve got hand-to-hand.”

“Perfect team,” Cato says, smug and satisfied and not with half as much cruelty as he normally says that. 

 ࿏

 They haven’t killed another tribute in two days, and the only thing on Cato’s mind is that he could have been doing this the whole time. He could have had two more weeks of throwing Clove into the lake without her worried that he was about to kill her. She never screams at home when he picks her up, too focused on getting him to drop her, but here, she laughs and shrieks like a kid from an outer district, playing up the childish thing sponsors seem to be in the mood for this year. She catches his eye when he takes his shirt off to clean up, and he is no longer a weapon that so happens to have this physical form but a fucking idiot that would trip on his own sword because she smirked at him.

“You know you like it, c’mon.”

“Like what, the fact that you won’t smell like rotting corpses and dirt for the next half hour?” He throws his shirt at her and splashes through the lake. She stays on the bench, carefully inspecting her knives, sharpening each one and tucking them neatly into the jacket she’s laid across her lap.

“Cato, I swear to Snow, if you come near me soaking wet, I will kill you,” she snaps, not even looking up from her knives. He laughs and wraps his arms around her shoulders anyways, laughing harder when she doesn’t squirm at the chill. He’s been doing this for years, trying to get a rise out of her because she hates how clammy wet skin feels. Normally, she’d have shoved him off hard enough to bruise by now, but she keeps her eyes trained on her knives and lets Cato touch her.

The metal screech of her knives against a rock keeps going. So does the sound of the water. Cato pulls his shirt back on from where it was on the ground and sits behind Clove, pulling her to his chest. She settles her head on his shoulder and holds a knife up to the sun to inspect it.

“If we win the same games, do we share a house and shit?” Clove asks. 

“Do you want to be roommates?” Cato asks, twirling the ends of her hair. It’s braided today. 

Clove snorts and tucks the knife into her jacket, apparently finding it satisfactory. Instead of reaching for the next knife, she slouches down and holds onto his wrists where they wrap around her shoulders. “I think that if you live alone, you’ll eat nothing but protein shakes.”

“Oh, and you can cook?”

“Yes I goddamn can,” Clove says, indignant, turning to face him. “I’m great at cooking.” That’s not out of the realm of possibility. He hasn’t seen her eat anything not given to them by the Center in years, but she’s good with knives and the smartest person Cato knows. “Will you cook for me when we win?”

“If,” Clove rams a sharp elbow into his ribs. 

Really, even if they were given two houses, Clove knows how quickly one would fall into disuse. The only reason they both actively use their own rooms are because their dorms are tiny, and at this point as stuffed to the brim with extra weapons and strategy books as Center regulations will allow. Most nights though, they crawl into the same bed after covering each other in cheap healing salve and trying to shake off the bruises, locking themselves to each other because the beds aren’t really big enough for two people. She knows that leaving the Arena together would sort of cement their melding into each other, making sure everyone who discusses them says it as catoandclove. 

She had promised herself that it would all end in Remake. They fixed her nose, which was well past crooked from the three times he had broken it. His skin is mostly clear of her tidy, elegant scars, only a few left for dramatic effect. And she had meant it, really, but now she’s thinking about how much of their goddamn stipend they’ll have to spend accommodating his ridiculous appetite and how she can win a fight over the thermostat.

“We need to get someone else soon.”

Cato exhales something long and heavy “Fuck yes. I think we should search out 12 and get it the fuck over with.”

“I’ll get 12F,” she says. She can sense his annoyance at that. “C’mon, I’ll make it entertaining. No one wants to see me methodically slice open someone who already can barely walk.”

“As long as it’s a good show,” he sighs. It will be. Clove imagines pinning her down, carving up her face so that no one wants to see her corpse. At this point in the Games, there are no slow deaths, not when it could be her last chance to slice someone open. Clove wants so much blood on her skin that she has to spend an hour in the lake to get it all off.

“Fucking obviously, who do you think I am?” Clove teases. She twists, albeit a little awkwardly, so that she’s properly facing him instead of pressed to his chest. The smile he gives her is lazy and content.

She slides a hand across his hip, searching automatically for the long, thin scar that should wrap around it. She finds nothing but smooth skin and a scrape, probably from a tree or some shit. She memorizes it, holding onto these new details. 12F and 12M, dying far apart and without the other knowing. An entryway littered with shoes and warm sweaters and a freshly polished rack of weapons in the Victor’s Village.

Cato leans in and kisses her, tugging her to lie on top of him. She’s about to lean back and curse him out for this, but the strategy seems to be working out alright for 12. And if she were in the Center watching this on a screen, she would be laughing with everyone else about how these kids are virgins who barely know each other. This easy affection, hidden among violent plans and strategies, is sure beneath her hands for the first time. 

(She’ll make 12F’s death especially brutal, and remind everyone that they should not fucking think about making fun of her.)

 ࿏

 5F would be hell to track if her hair weren’t bright red. He keeps seeing flashes of it in the distance, egging him onwards. Four more. He’ll take 5F, Clove will get 12F. If 12M doesn’t die on his own, he still won’t be able to put up any sort of fight. 11M will be a solid, respectable final fight, bigger than Cato but not nearly as skilled of a fighter, and Clove will back him up with her knives. It’s so close he can taste it, can’t stop thinking about sharing a bed instead of a shitty sleeping bag.

The first time he hears a Clove’s strangled, high pitched scream yell “CATO!”, he doesn’t slow down. He’s never heard Clove sound anywhere near that scared, not when the air is being choked out of her lungs or the night before a ranking exam. This is a Capitol trick, some sort of trap that he’s meant to fall into.

When he hears it again, every ounce of logic and training goes out the window, and he sprints towards her.

He doesn’t spot her at first, and there’s a wink of relief that she’s somewhere out of sight, ready to hurl knives at everyone but him, but then he sees a flash of red and brown against the grass.

Clove. The bubbled ponytail she tied and untied whenever she didn’t have enough to do with her hands. He is on his knees and she is next to him, a full on fucking dent in her head, lying on the ground, eyes still awake but no longer full of fire. He’s screaming, but he truly does not give a shit if someone hears. He’s easy enough to track down anyways.

And how the fuck could this have happened. How could a fucking nobody from 11 do this to her, careless and cruel, when she was the first person his age to figure out how to escape his chokeholds. 

“Clove, you’re going to get through this,” he tells her, and he does almost believe it. She’s broken endless bones without so much as crying. She likes doing things for dramatic effect – she’s doing this for sponsors, for attention, to create an iconic games moment that will be shown forever after they win. 

He maneuvers her so that her head is in his lap and tries not to think about how this feels like Clove’s dead weight, like lead weighing him down instead of the feather light Clove who fights back like a tiny speed demon. The last time she felt like this was in her dorm room, long after they had stopped pretending to analyze their earlier training stats, and Clove, flushed and catching her breath, fell asleep half on top of him. 

Clove’s always had a reputation for being cold. It annoyed the fuck out of Cato when they were younger, the way it was near impossible to get a rise out of her, but he likes it now. It’s most of why they were sent in together, the way he runs hot and impulsive and she stands a few steps above everyone else. This is different though, it’s not so much that her mind is whirring like crazy behind a thick shell, moreso that everything has gone hazy for Clove. Clove, who can muster a terrifying glare even while freshly concussed. 

On the ground, most of Clove’s energy is going to distinguishing one word from the next. The words Cato is saying are familiar – “I’ll slice him open for this, just how you like it. I’ll smash her head in, break enough bones that she’s unrecognizable. Remember – fuck, I still don’t know his name, actually – remember that kid that tried, yeah, I’ll recreate that, except now I can actually fucking finish the job.” She knows his threats, but his voice isn’t the hard monotone or reckless yelling she’s used to. It’s cracking like it hasn’t done since they were thirteen. She’s heard his voice wracked with emotion before, but never like this, equal parts warm and desperate. His hands cradle her cheeks, oscillating between desperately grabbing her like he can keep her alive with his touch and holding her face so gently that she thinks she might be imagining it. 

For a moment, she wonders if the cameras are still on them. She’s not sure where the line is – what violence the Capitol citizens find hot or funny or impressive, and what violence they find disgusting. Clove doesn’t find any of this disgusting. She knows Cato would do everything he’s promising if there were enough bodies in the arena for the amount of threats he’s making. He might use all of them anyways, to keep a promise to her or work out any extra anger.

He’s thought about this more than enough times since they were kids, the way he’ll eventually stand next to her dead body. This is a nightmare, the kind where he’s holding his breath and waiting to jolt awake in the Center, because she’s actually slipping away and he doubts she could so much as laugh at him right now and someone else did this to her and he wasn’t fucking there in time.

Cato doesn’t quite know what he’s saying anymore, but Clove does. It’s a babble more than anything, and she would bet that it’s because of his own emotion instead of her inability to distinguish words. He tells her that he loves the smirk she gives when she hits every bullseye in the training room and the way her face twists as she pulls her hair into a braid for training. He loves how she never slows down from an injury and the way she makes fun of him as she sews shitty stitches into his skin. He’ll do anything to try and make up for this, the way she lies on the ground, eyes glazing more and more with every minute.

She knows what he’s building to. And she already knows it, has for a while, really, but didn’t let herself think it until Claudius Templesmith told her she could. The two of them have endless, endless advantages over the 12’s, but at least those dickheads got to say whatever they wanted.

She can’t quite make words anymore. She can’t quite do anything. But despite the way she shakes violently beneath her, his knee is solid on the small of her back, and for once it’s not a trap. 

[cup1dvalenl1na]

Do you have any Black☆Star headcanons? I like hearing other people's thoughts on my favorite Soul eater character.

Ofc! I love him too! He's so goofy /pos

Honestly, this is probably already canon but he def has a soft spot for his friends and children.

He makes fun of his friends/teases them because he cares about them, as weird as that sounds. He only does that to people he's close with.

I feel like if you were just some random dude he'd pay no attention to you and ignore you most of the time when he's not boasting about himself to random people.

So if you're close to him YOU'RE CLOSE, prepare for him to randomly barge into your room and talk about random shit or just steal your food honestly, but he would fight to the ends of the earth for you if you were his friend

So, I completely random but I think he probably smells like shit. LET'S BE HONEST. He trains 24/7 and doesn't know when to quit. I feel like he would only smell good when Tsubaki or Kid force him to shower. (Que Maka and Soul giving him a disgusted look when he tries to go up to them) I feel like this would change over time though after the time skip, he takes more care of himself although he still may forget sometimes.

I've seen people say this before but he definitely sees Naigus and Sid as his parental figures. He's never really known his actually family and has only known Sid and Naigus to be the one taking care of him.

Again, pretty sure this is canon, but him and Maka are childhood friends. Definitely. He sees Maka as a sister to him. I mean they argue like siblings have you SEEN them?? But he's willing to fight for Maka on her name. (Remember when he went to search for arachne because she paralyzed Maka, def protective brotherly vibes. )

That being said, I think Black Star also sees Tsubaki as a sister, older sister specifically. She cares for him like no other person has before. And he truly appreciates her for that, even though he may not show it that often.

Another thing, I honestly don't see him really being interested in romantic relationships. Yes he can be kind of a perv, but other than that I think it would be difficult to get his interest in that aspect. Especially since his brain it's train train train 24/7. But-- again, it's not impossible, good luck to you of you're trying to get his attention.

He's definitely insecure about certain things he does cause he doesn't want to show weaknesses in front of others. Like I feel like he would have a hard time showing vulnerability around others. He has this mindset where it's like, "Crying is for losers." But if someone else cries he wouldn't mind, it's just for him where he's like that. But I feel like Tsubaki would try to help him with this honestly, she notices everything.

I'm sorry if this was vague, I didn't know what types of head canons about him you were looking for 😭 I hope this suits your needs. If not, I can try again in the future!

[moonshoon]

Concrete Jungle Where Dreams Are Made Of

MASTERLIST

pairing: bully!riki x reader genre: fluff word count: 2.9k

summary: reader’s class goes on a school trip to new york, her dream city, she thinks she can’t attend because of money issues, but someone pays for her and so she goes with them. she ends up having to share a room as well as a bed with her bully, nishimura riki.  what might happen?

warnings: bully!riki, verbal bullying (kinda), mean/harsh comments, bullies to lovers 

shortenings: y/n > your name

"... and, our class trip this year will be next week!" mrs. jung joyfully announced to everybody in the class. everyone was cheering and loudly exclaiming how happy they were about having another class trip this year. everyone besides me. i was quiet as always, in the back of the class, not talking to anyone. i knew i couldn't go to the class trip. my parent's didn't have enough money to also pay for a trip, because all their money already went into my education, paying for the private school i was going to. we weren't poor, but not rich either, and class trip meant a lot of money would be involved. it wasn't something unusual though. i stayed at home the last two years too, no big deal, i didn't have anyone to hang out with on the trip anyways so i wasn't that sad about not being able to go. "and I guess the poor girl won't be coming with us, huh? your parents don't make enough money, don't they? what a loser!" jay said, not loud enough for the teacher to hear though, but all of his friends started laughing with him. i felt humiliated once again, i wouldn't mind if it was about me, but if someone talked about my parents like this, it made me very angry. but i stayed silent, not wanting to get in trouble with their friend group. the whole bunch of them always meant trouble.

when i got home, i took off my shoes and put my backpack away, walking into the kitchen to dinner already being on the table. "the class trip will be next week mom..." i muttered quietly as i entered the kitchen. "sweetie, you know we won't be able to pay for it, hm? i'm very sorry. we're still saving up so we can pay for the one next year. at least in your last year you should be able to go." mom explained. “i know mom. it doesn't matter anyways."

i was lying to myself. i knew it. we would be going to new york for a week. my dream city. i would love to live there one day, studying at college and living in a flat with my friends. but it was only a dream. i knew i would probably never be able to accomplish it, but m hopes were still high up.

friday at school the teacher announced the names of the people going on the class trip. i knew i wouldn't be on the list, but as said, no big deal. "... beomgyu, chaeryeong, danielle, heeseung, jongseong, jaeyun, jungwon, kai kamal, keeho, lia, ryujin, riki, sunoo, sunghoon, soul, shotaro, taehyun, yeji, yuna and y/n!" my head shot up in a millisecond, a confused look on my face. "i guess you are surprised y/n, but someone anonymously called and was willing to pay for your trip, lucky you!" i was even more confused now. why would anyone pay for MY school trip, i didn't even have any close friends, especially none that were so rich they could afford to pay two trips. but i just let it be. i would be able to go to my dream city for god's sake!

and when the day of the trip finally came, i was nervous to say the least. i still couldn't believe i was actually going to new york and spend a whole week there. the school had paid for a bus to take them us, even though the ride would take them almost four hours, but it was worth the time.

as i entered the bus after putting my suitcase in the storage space, i looked for a free seat. i quickly walked over to one, as i saw the only free double seat was left was in one of the very back lines. quietly sitting down and putting my little backpack – which contained all the necessities for the ride – on the seat next to me and putting in my headphones, i relaxed. out of the corner of my eye noticed six of the trouble boys sitting in their seats, always two next to each other. heeseung and sunoo, jay and jungwon and sunghoon and jake. one was missing. riki. where was he? didn't he want to go to the trip?

ten minutes later everyone was ready to leave. the driver was about to close the doors as we heard someone yell "wait!" everyone looked out the window, and there was riki running while dragging his suitcase behind him. "sorry for being late, I overslept" he explained when he entered the bus, his eyes wandering around to find a free seat. when he realized the only free seat was next to me, he groaned and walked over to his friends. "can one of you sit next to her?" "no my friend. you are the one that came late, you need to suffer from the consequences" jungwon said strictly and pointed at the seat next to me. i put my bag on the ground in between my feet for him to sit down, but he just wouldn't budge. "riki, go sit down please or we won't be going." he let out another groan but eventually gave in and sat next to me, not wanting to ruin the trip for everyone else. "don't talk to me, okay?" he said harshly. "as if I would want to talk to a jerk like you, tsk." i mumbled under my breath. "what did you say" "nothing." "what. did. you. say." "nothing." "okay, then" he cupped my cheeks with his hands and squeezed tightly, making me pout a little bit. "repeat what you said. now." i quickly nodded my head, wanting to free herself from his tight hold. when he let my cheeks go, i just quietly said "i don't want to talk to you anyways." riki just let it be after that, sitting back into his seat and putting on his – probably very expensive – headphones and closing his eyes.

the ride was silent for the most part, a lot of the students were just listening to music, watching a movie, sleeping, or reading. well, i was the only one that was reading, listening to my favorite song on repeat. and i was so focused on my book, not even realizing they arrived at our first stop. all the people got out of the bus, running to the toilet, or going to a store to buy some snacks and drinks, while i just stayed there reading. when all of the students were back, we continued driving. it didn't take riki ten minutes to fall asleep again, his head falling onto my shoulders and resting there. i didn't do anything about it. why should i? one of the popular boys was literally sleeping on my shoulder, i had to enjoy this feeling of someone being close to me for the time being.

riki only woke up when they arrived at their hotel, the bus stopping and letting everyone get off. his eyes slowly opened; sleepiness still seen in them. when he realized he was laying on my shoulder, he pulled his head back quickly, hitting mine by doing so. "ow!" i breathed out, moving my hand to hold the side of my head, hoping the pain would lessen that way. and guess what he did? he just left, without saying sorry or anything. just standing up and leaving me there. jerk.

when we all had gathered in the lobby of the hotel, the teacher announced what our plans would be for the rest of the day.

"since it's two in the afternoon now, i'll let you go to your rooms, which i will be announcing right after this, and let you unpack your stuff and maybe shower. you are free to leave in the afternoon to do some shopping or any activity you would like. one rule though, be back before eight, because the dinner time starts then. now, you will be sleeping in randomly selected rooms. i have a box with little papers here. on these papers you will see a number from one to fifteen. there are always two papers with the same numbers on them, the people that have pulled the same numbers will be sharing a room. we won't be separating boys and girls on this trip."

she held up the box with the papers and everyone rushed to get one. i was last, just taking the paper that was left and opening it. "11" the paper read.

*meanwhile with the troublemakers*

"come on guys! let's switch all our papers and then take that room. that would be way more fun!" jake suggested. all of them agreed. they each switched paper with someone and then opened it. "I have 15!" jake said, the others joining in "4 here" "7" "13" "1" "4" "...11" "oh won, we'll be sharing a room!" sunoo exclaimed happily, and the other guys went to look for their assigned roommate. jake's roommate turned out to be taehyun, jay was with lia and sunghoon with soul. riki was still looking for his partner when his eyes fell on me, the paper in my hand being turned to the outside he read the number.

11

"let's switch back jakey, come on brooo~" riki tried to convince jake to switch back but he wouldn't do it, not even for a night at the club financed by him. when no one wanted to switch with him, he just went over to me, taking my hand and putting his paper on it. i just looked up at him and nodded, then he went over to the teacher to get their key. room number 143.

the elevator ride was once again silent, no word was uttered until we opened the door to their room. "no! i won't be doing this."

i just sighed and entered the room, putting my suitcase on the floor and opening it, before taking one of the blankets and one of the pillows, taking it from the bed and putting it onto the floor. "happy now?" "better, yes." he spoke. "i'll be taking a shower now." i said, taking out my shampoo and bodywash and making my way into the bathroom.

when i finished, i got out of the shower and was about to reach for a towel, but there were none. shitshitshit... i thought. then eventually i decided to just ask riki for help. the door to the bathroom slowly opened, and riki looked up to see my face peeking out, hair dripping wet and leaving water drops on the floor. "uh... can you maybe check if there's towels somewhere here?" he nodded and quickly stood up to look for some. "yeah, there are some here in the wardrobe. what now?" "can you bring me one please" i said, my face flushing red as i held a hand out of the crack of the opened the door. he hurried over to me, handing me the towel while covering his eyes with his palm even though the door was covering my body already (what a gentleman). i left the bathroom when i finished drying up, walking over to my suitcase, and started to unpack my clothes. "i'll be out now, bye." the he stood up, took his phone and wallet, and left.

now i was alone again, i was glad. i then finished unpacking my stuff, taking the book i was reading from my bag and going out to the little balcony space we had. the metal chair was cold, but i didn't mind. i just sat there, reading, and enjoying the sound of the rain falling from the sky and trying to ignore the car horns sounding everywhere. and as expected, riki and his friends weren't back by 8PM, they were probably out partying somewhere. it shouldn't bother me, but what if they were hurt? no. that couldn't be. they were all used to being in big cities like this.

their dinner was served, a nice, noble looking pasta with salad on the side. i didn't eat everything, even though i was very hungry, then went back up to the room. deciding to read a few more chapters, i went back out to the balcony again, sitting back down on the cold chair and opening my book where i left.

when riki came back, he saw me laying on the floor, covered by the blanket. i was moving a lot, turning, and tossing. probably because it was so uncomfortable to sleep on the floor. he slowly made his way over to my sleeping figure, lifting me up in his arms and putting me down onto the bed. then he went to take a shower and change into his nightwear, one sweatpants. he lifted his own covers and quietly made his way onto the bed too, moving closer to me. suddenly, he felt me move beside him, then he felt me moving closer, cuddling up to him in my sleep. i had my face in his chest, one of my legs thrown over him. his heart warmed at the action.

riki honestly didn't want to be so mean; he just really liked me and didn't know how to confess because he was pretty sure he knew that i would reject him. in the bus when he woke up with his head on my shoulder, he was shocked, he quickly got up and really didn't want to just leave when he heard i was hurt by his sudden move, but he had to catch up to his friends. "i'm glad I can hold you like this right now, darling"

i was still sitting on the balcony when i heard a few familiar voices from the streets under me. my book was left on the table as i quickly stood up and leaned over the edge of the steel fence. under me, on the sidewalk, he saw the boys walking, i could make out everyone, but there were four girls i didn't know, one of them clinging to riki's side. jealousy flared up inside of me and i quickly moved back to my book. i took it and made my way back into the warm room, laying down on the floor where my blanket and pillow were. tonight, i didn't have any more energy to listen to riki's mean comments about me or him ignoring me, so i just changed into my pajamas quickly and laid down, closing my eyes and pretending to sleep.

not a few moments later the door opened and he entered quietly. i readjusted my sleep position, and hoped he didn't notice me still being awake. when i heard him move over, i stayed still quickly, slowing down my breaths and closing my eyes tightly. two arms moved under me, lifting me off the ground with my blanket and putting me back down on the bed. i was fighting the urge to open my eyes and check if it really was riki that put me onto the soft mattress. the person moved away from me and i heard the bathroom door shut, i opened my eyes and took a look around the room. riki's expensive prada shoes were next to the door, so it was definitely him (or someone with the exact same shoes as him). i heard the shower running for a few minutes, then it stopped. i closed my eyes quickly, before riki left the bathroom and walked over to the bed. the mattress sunk a little bit, and then i heard him get under his cover and shuffle closer. i couldn't resist and moved closer to him, cuddling up to his warm body, throwing a leg over his hips and moving my head to lay on his chest.

again, this was a very suspicious move, but he wouldn't mind if he even put me back on the bed. or maybe he was just very generous tonight and wanted me to sleep comfortably at least.

just as i was about to move away from him because of my mind overthinking again, i heard him say "i'm glad i can hold you like this right now, darling" his arms wrapped around me, lifting my cover from my body and pulling me under his cover. now we were skin against skin, my bare arms and shoulders not being covered by the spaghetti strap top i was wearing. i could feel his naked torso.

they fell asleep, cuddling, bodies pressed against each other, feeding from each other's warmth. and perhaps the next morning when i woke up, riki was already up, staring at me. he quickly looked away, embarrassed about being caught staring, but eventually looked back. "uhm, you know... you're not actually as bad as I said you were... and I kind of really like you if that makes sense?" i was shocked to say the least, even though i could have expected this based off of his actions yesterday, but i was happy at the same time. who thought that nishimura riki, the popular, handsome, angel with a perfect face and a sexy body would like me, a nerd who liked to write and read books.

"i wanted to apologize for acting this way towards you. and i am very sorry for teasing you and laughing about you with my friends. and uhm... would you like to go on a date with me sometime?" he asked me. "uh... sure. and, you know, i really like you too so... yeah. i don't know what to say." riki chuckled at my cuteness, and at the redness spreading over her cheeks, wrapping his arms around me tightly and kissing my nose softly.

"by the way, i was the one that paid for your trip, since i know you really love new york" he whispered before pecking my lips.

[janggtoco]

can u ship ur moots with idols?

ooooo~ ok. i already did it with svt on my other blog and i've gained more close mutuals since.. so i'm going to do another group very close to my heart, loona <3 bcs we love women <3 (& i will stockholm syndrome loona [or artms or WHATEVER atp skdfj] into their lives one way or another)

@seokgyuu: not to be insane, but jinsoul is the perfect amount of silly and snarky for mitchie. she's a nerd (plays with gundams and legos), smart (literally the only member with a college education) and also loves to go out which would be perfect to get mitchie out of the house lmao (jinsoul is also my mbti and i'm not saying that mitchie is a match for me but that's exactly what i'm saying)

@seokmins: my sunshine needs her own sunshine (when it's not me) and that's why i see her with choerry <3 choerry is the dk equivalent in loona; full of life, silly, has a little bite when she needs to and an absolute killer on stage. you two would have so much fun together and she would be so clingy to you (she's gonna have to make room for me though OBVIOUSLY)

@gyuldaengi: i almost said yeojin for you.. just bcs she's the little brat you need KSDFSJK BUT... i started thinking about chuu.. chuu is obviously sunshine and rainbows but we know she's willing and able to be sarcastic and shit talk when she wants and needs to LMAO.. plus she can't really cook or bake but she loves to take care of her loved ones in other ways so i think it's the perfect push and pull of you being the trophy wife but also being taken care of as well.

@bitchlessdino: you love your little bratty, loving and talented maknaes so obviously yeojin is the one for you <3 her and dino truly have so many parallels and their personalities are so similar and she'd be the upbeat extrovert to immediately boost your spirits and help calm you down when you need!

@97-liners: hyeju (or olivia hye but she hates being called her stage name lol). it's so easy. she's kind of an elusive nerd with a heart of gold and a secret desire to be soft.. she'll listen to all of jackie's ramblings and hyperfixations (she might make lighthearted fun but she'll remember to tuck in the back of her mind the pen jackie has been lamenting about wanting for forever) and they can chill on the couch while hyeju plays her games <3

@gguksgalaxy: this is kind of targeted based on what gwaen has told me about her types, but heejin is the perfect mix of bunny and puppy (which we don't talk about, shhh). she's fun, artistic, loves to bake and cook and loves to cling on to the nearest person for a quick hug. her and gwaen would have a wonderful time, especially when heejin is being her loser self.

@baekhyunnybyun: she's funny, talented and her individualistic self; i can't really explain why but i see bex with yves so wonderfully. yves is just the coolest girl to exist and someone that i can see bex having a ton of fun with. whether it be writing (especially since yves started her own blog), exploring the city or showing her new choreography, yves would know how to show bex a good time! also, while she's a little sarcastic with her loved ones, she's especially protective of them, just like how i feel bex is!

[marzgurl]

So, I made a brief post yesterday, but I'll elaborate here. I hadn't been back on tumblr in pushing two years. Maybe not quite a full two years, but I'm pretty sure I was last on here in 2020, I think? Anyway, I've currently got a browser open with only tabs for various social media platforms. I'm trying to figure out how to best use each of them, and how to do so regularly. I knew Twitter was going to get bad, but I didn't realize just how rapidly it was going to happen, or that it would come so teeteringly close to actual full-on collapse.

I think a large reason I spent so much time away from tumblr was because I'd had a lot happening from 2019 to 2022. When all the Screamy Broccoli Man stuff exploded in 2019 (don't know what I'm talking about? Probably for the best, but ask your elders), I got drastically chased around all over the Internet, on every social media platform. Any platform I was on regularly got overwhelmingly bombarded with hate speech, death and rape threats, misinformation, etc. Tumblr was one of those places. My "asks" inbox was a slew of real wingnut sycophants who got all of their information from alt-right YouTubers, thinking those were credible sources of information, and had become an army of weirdos willing to jump in front of a speeding bullet to defend some weird sex pest voice actor who doesn't even know they're alive.

Twitter was pretty bad for that, mind you. However, I'd decided to keep most of that harassment largely on one dedicated front. For all the absolute hell that has ALWAYS existed on Twitter, the one thing it was able to do was keep the losers focused in one general direction rather than multiple directions. So when I quit posting so much on tumblr, Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, and even Twitch for a while, they really only had one place to go. And it was there where I could block to my heart's content. Twitter never did a very good job of responding to reports of harassment. In fact, I was frequently dogpiled by people using Twitter's systems intended to protect people, in order to false flag me into lockouts and even one suspension that I had to fight my way back out of. However, people had created enough tools for me to be able to block sweeping masses of people--either people who followed my harassers, or people who liked harassing tweets. All of those could be wiped out in just a few minutes. Twitter didn't do a good job of building that into their own platform, but at least I could use the tools that other people made for Twitter to make it work for me. Finally, I seemed to have found myself in a place where it was all sort of leveling out.

And now here we are, as Twitter sort of eats itself alive, because a guy with a lot of money can't get that money to work in ways to make him like himself enough as a human being, to have enough confidence in himself to not have to turn Twitter into his own private safe space. And for that reason, I find myself with tabs open for Mastodon, Tumblr, cohost!, Instagram, and TikTok, trying to figure out how I'm going to make any of these places especially unique, and how not to completely abandon one for the other.

Instagram is fine enough, I've had it for at least nine years now (a shorter amount of time than I've had this Tumblr, if I'm not mistaken). But I just don't take a lot of pictures or video, and I struggle to know how I'm going to make it interactive or interesting in any way. It's for that same reason that I struggle to know how to regularly use TikTok. I tried for a brief burst of time and burned myself out really, really fast. Writing is just easier for me. And for that reason, I'm not really sure what to make of cohost, because cohost seems like a place that functions pretty similarly to Tumblr (with some minor differences). Am I really going to try to differentiate and diversify over there, too? I mean, maybe. A lot of people I know are headed that way, though lots of us have been sitting and waiting to get verified to post for several days now, and I'm not sure how long it'll take.

But I did notice a concerted push on Tumblr's part to try to make you know, "Hey! We're still alive! Come back! We're here!" And as far as I can tell, a lot of the people I followed over the years are actually still quite active over here. It's not nearly as dead as I had perceived it might have been.

So, we'll see how this goes. I used to use LiveJournal quite a bit back in the early '00, but that journal is long since gone. I've journaled quite a bit here in the past as well. Will I keep that up here? It's hard to say. I have a pretty big habit of saying I plan on keeping up with something, and then I just can't manage to do it. That's just the way I'm built, I guess. I'm 36, and if it hasn't changed yet, it probably never will now.

Anyway, guess I'm screwing around on Tumblr for a while now. I'll see what new things I can make of it.

[hirokiyuu]

ok i did a huge ship meme for fun. if you read it u have to like this post. also i have more thoughts under the cut

some of these are copy pasted from twt so if u saw it there u can read them again i guess. theres some new ones also. perish by my hand

at a glance

yuujin calls leona "leona-san" until theyre both old n gray. they probably try "leona" a few times but it feels weird to them. leona's fine w/this

love languages are what they prefer to receive rather than what they naturally give wwww if it were that way around id switch it LOL. high natural compatability

"problematic a bit" in the sense of. well. if youve played twst. youve met leona. u see how he acts around mc at first. u kno.

dynamic stuff

i dont think leona would've had a Relationship relationship before. fwb? fucking around w/ppl? sure. but a Relationship? sounds like too much work

yuujin meanwhile had World's Shittiest Not Boyfriend before isekai'ing. mostly fwb but yuujin did have feelings and also he was the only person yuujin was ever like. emotionally close to beyond their sister. so

? on caretaker for leona bc its definitely not Traditional Caretaking but he does put in the work to help yuuin in ways they do really need. still.

? for yuujin mostly bc if they had to do more caretaking like they did for their sibs theyd die but also they do help leona how they cna. u kno how it is

re:attachment, theyre both independent but yuujin is more likely to pull Away if shit happens while leona is more likely to get territorial (lol) this is probably the only thing that ever causes any real fights

idk if i'd call it "wants to Corrupt yuujin" but leona definitely does sometimes wish they were less of a good person. not always. but sometimes.

nsfw stuff

being used is situational for yuujin bc when theyre into it theyre Really Into It but theres also a chance itll trigger them really badly. u kno how it is

my pillow princess leona agenda strikes again

i htink leona is in theory fairly ambivalent abt topping/bottoming but in practice if he tops he's expected to do more work. so.

theyre both shameless during sex but occasionally yuujin will remember they have Feelings for this guy and this guy has Feelings for them and they'll get flustered. they can nad will talk abt sticking their tongue up this man's ass w/o batting an eye but the moment anything abt Liking each other comes up? they get a little shy LMAO

the sex is pretty good for both of htem but again. leona is lazy. yuujin is hte one doing all the work.

particulars

re:things to change, if leona were a more classically Good Boyfriend (ie more demonstrative, trying harder, more obvious w/his feelings etc) yuujin would absolutely run. so. leona's personality is a good (?) thing

engagement

(looks at the checklist) (points at leona) Go King Give Us Nothing!

the one abt killing the other is v like. dependent on timeline i think. leona might be more willing at first but over time i dont think hed be able to.

yuujin is technically the pursuer in their rship at first but leona definitely catches the Big feelings before yuujin does. lmao. eat shit loser

tbh their communication style from the outside probably looks pretty callous. a lot of talking Around things and giving each other shit to hide the fact they both Hate talking straightforwardly in some respects. the kind of couple that never ever once say 'i love you' to the other even tho they're both aware they do (eventually)

they touch a lot, in terms of pda they're not obnoxious but usually leona will have a hand on yuujin's back or yuujin will be on his arm or w/e. leona generally initiates if theyre out in public but yuujin doesnt mind they just dont start it usually wwwwww

re:expectations, i actually dont think leona expects too much from Yuujin Specifically, just in general. but also. in some ways i dont think he believes he'll get it. if that makes sense

OK THAT WAS REALLY REALLY LONG if u read this whole thing thank u tell me if u like them. i am rotating them constantly