#first of the muses' birthdays :O

[fightinglivingnightmares]

(( Today, a Dweet gets cake. So says the Mun with all of their artistic ability. Happy birthday, Dwight. ))

[yeonban]

SOMA'S BIRTHDAY GIFT!

@deathfavor asked:  “ Soma. “ Seiroku’s voice is soft, a hand reaching out to gently brush over Soma’s cheek as he spares a glance from the corner of his eyes. Should they be sleep already? Probably. But this was worth staying up a bit later for. Seiroku sits up a bit from their futon, using the moonlight to help as he leans over Soma’s figure with a smile. “ Happy birthday. “  Never mind they haven’t yet fallen asleep to ‘start’ the next day – based on the outside it should be the next day technically. He bends down, pressing one kiss, then several to Soma’s lips, soft and gentle. “ I wanted to be the first to tell you. “ He whispers, thumb gently caressing his fiancé’s cheek. “I love you.”

   It’s definitely harder to be able to celebrate Soma’s birthday than his own. It’s a day full of tradition and it’s about the band as much as it is about Soma. And he’s plenty aware of both how important those traditions are and how long they are likely to take based on rough calculations. Hours upon hours. He’ll take the time together where he can. Now, and after they’ve slept and the morning comes and Seiroku forces himself to get up early alongside him because he’s not going to miss out on parts of Soma’s day.   Not even the hours of gifts and talks where he can at least be supportive in presence. ( And company alone Seiroku was content enough with. )

   It does feel near impossible to steal some time, but there is time between the gifts and feast where Seiroku manages to steal the star of the day away for at least a short while.  “ Next year, I’m scheduling at least a small, set time for you and me. “ Seiroku announces the moment he’s led Soma away, though there’s a smile on his face. Rather than go to their room however, Seiroku leads him to what was his old room before everything. “ I had to store my gift for you here so you wouldn’t accidentally find it. “  Seiroku explains with a small smile. He gives Soma’s hand a gentle squeeze before he lets go and turns towards the chest in the room.

  “ My gift is nothing fancy- “ Well, that potentially not true, but not fancy in terms of grandiose. “ -  but I hope you’ll like it all the same. “ With hundreds of gifts, it could be quite hard to think of something when Soma already could have anything. Nor was there something of the past that Seiroku could offer, when his own clan history was miserable. But there was an unexpected skill he’d been working on the last several months.

   When Seiroku turns around, he offers a Soma a small kesi tapestry from high quality silk and vibrant colors. In the center were two sacred koi fish corresponding to each of their color schemes with Soma’s embroidered with the Date symbol like a crown on the head. Surrounding them and ensuring they were the center of the piece was a circular, flowy border styled to carefully replicate the pattern that adorns Soma’s outfits. In the background, in gentler and softer colors were woven stories and scenes – of the festival, of feasts with the clan, a moonlit scenery of their night talks. Woven proof of time together. Seiroku’s decades of knowledge and working with his own strings had made weaving a surprising talent for him to discover and learn quickly. It was something he could do for Soma that no one else likely would, something personal, and something that would last against even passage of time.

   “ I confess I’m no expert to weaving, it was my first full piece. “ He admits with a quiet laugh.  “  Took a long time.  “  Moments stolen on his breaks when Soma wasn’t around or inbetween lulls of patients or the times when Soma was gone or busy, hours poured into honing the skill and learning the difficult fabric, not to mention all that was poured into creating this seamless piece.  “  Although I already said it, I'll say it again. Happy birthday, Soma. “ He smiles, bright and full before standing on his toes to press another kiss to his lips. " I love you so much. " More than he could ever truly articulate.

Murmuring a soft mm?, Soma's eyes open languidly after the gentle touch succeeds in stealing him away from the tranquility of near-sleep (he hadn't been asleep just yet, merely relaxed enough to be able to doze off in the near future) and he carefully takes in the sight of Seiroku rising from underneath the sheets to drape himself above him, covering all in his line of sight other than a sole ray of moonlight that merely serves to further highlight his fiancé's beauty. The view in itself manages to bring a smile to Soma's face, from his point of view oddly reminiscent of a sun resurfacing from beneath the moon at the end of a solar eclipse, and his smile only grows fonder once the birthday wish leaves Seiroku's mouth.

❛ Looks like it's already shaping up to be a happy one. ❜  And despite what appearances might prompt one to think, this isn't something that happens frequently. It isn't that Soma dislikes his birthday (far from it), but he cannot recall any recent birthdays that could have been deemed as happy. Successful, yes; decent, yes; exorbitant, yes - but not once happy. Though the entirety of the band desires to celebrate his day of birth, offering him luxurious gifts upon luxurious gifts every time such an occasion comes around, it remains a much more formal event than Soma would rather it be. He enjoys the attention and feeling of importance it stirs within him, but it lacks the warmth he used to take for granted all those years earlier, during the times he could still spend with his parents and older brother, when he never once felt the pressure to show anything other than his bona fide reactions (glee, usually) to the presents.

Along with his family's absence and the increasingly busier schedules of the other grand generals that rarely allow for long trips unrelated to important matters (as well as their distancing from each other over the past decade), Soma's birthdays have long since lost their warmth, becoming something more akin to official business than a day personalized for him. He doesn't particularly mind the shift - it simply represents one more unspoken duty to follow through with, but this year is already far different from the ones before it. The kisses that pour down on him manage to rekindle the warmth he'd forgotten to feel on this day with such ease that he could laugh, and one of his hands reaches up to caress Seiroku's cheek in kind, guiding him down for another kiss before they finally agree to sleep and he softly whispers against Seiroku's ear. ❛ I love you too. ❜

It was certainly going to be a long day nonetheless, but perhaps this year Soma could afford to be even half as happy about his own birthday as his retainers have always been (for them, his birthday represents one more year of safety and guidance - for him, ever since the innocence of his childhood has eroded away, it merely became another sign of the unforgiving passage of time; though now he has something else to look forward to in the future besides the goal all bushi should strive towards - and he is currently sleepily snuggled against his chest).

Daybreak seems to come faster than usual, and although both his sleepiness and the comforting warmth of Seiroku's presence try to keep Soma inside the futon for a while longer, the red soul forces himself to wake up and start getting ready for what's to come. On any other day, he might have been able to do away with a few more minutes of rest, but on this particular day the schedule is strict enough that he wouldn't be surprised if his retainers were to come knocking on his door to make certain that he'll be on time; and so he mentally prepares himself for the ceremony ahead and leans down to press a kiss to Seiroku's temple, waking him gently instead of the banging that's sure to follow from their retainers if either of them aren't within sight in the next half an hour.

What ensues conforms to what Soma is used to - a quick debriefing of his schedule for the day, the meet and greet of visitors from the Date's allied bands and the seemingly never-ending line of vassals hoping to outdo each other with the grandiosity of their speeches or the beauty and rarity of their presents. The grand general's expression doesn't change through any of it, remaining just as calm after the hundredth gift as he'd been after the tenth, but halfway through the gift-giving ceremony he subtly grasps Seiroku's hand under his haori, intertwining their fingers and offering it a gentle squeeze as a sign of gratitude for enduring this with him despite not having to (his retainers might've been displeased with his absence, but either of them could've easily talked them into allowing Seiroku to do anything else), before he settles on rubbing his thumb against the back of Seiroku's hand in smooth motions. He has long since gotten used to these formalities, but this must be the first year Seiroku has had to sit still in silence, listening to person after person talk for hours on end when they weren't even directly speaking to him.

Soma's composure doesn't crack even after the gift-giving ends, remaining as spotless as though the ceremony hadn't involved hours upon hours of maintaining a stiff position and being forced to socialize from a captain's standpoint (because while it might be "Soma's" birthday, it is undoubtedly celebrated as the captain's birthday). It's only when Seiroku's mildly aggravated comment hits him that Soma's carefully crafted expression breaks into something partly apologetic and slightly amused at the display, as well as deeply fond at the thought it inspires. Seiroku is the only one capable of confidently bossing him around like this even just in jest (and he isn't jesting on this matter), but come "next year" and they'll be long married. Soma can only promise him this now, but in a mere few months' time Seiroku will be able to officially make any changes he wishes to his upcoming schedules (within reason). ❛ Next year you can have me for the entire afternoon or evening. We can schedule the feast around whichever one you choose. ❜ 

The grand general's attention shifts away from his yellow soul once their surroundings become different than what he'd originally expected them to be though, and he closely watches as Seiroku opens the door to his first ever house at the Date, leading him inside of it. It has been quite some time since Soma has last stepped into this room (despite everything having started here), and underneath his confusion a feeling of mild nostalgia kicks in. It hasn't been that long ago all things considered, but it certainly seems that way after everything that has transpired between the two of them lately. No sooner does Soma bemusedly contemplate Seiroku's rooms turning from one to three (from this, to their shared one, this one and the spare one he's gifted Seiroku within the castle) that his beloved's statement brings him back to the present moment and the grand general turns around to face him, glancing down at the gift resting in his hands.

Soma's eyes widen immediately upon contact with the tapestry, having expected a gift, but nothing nearly as heartfelt as the one currently bestowed upon him. He freezes for several seconds as a hand reaches to gently touch it & ultimately takes it into his own hands, surveying it much alike to a child receiving its first ever toy (a feeling of bafflement, a feeling of wonder, and to separate his reactions from a child's - a pang of the heart). Receiving gifts is nothing out of the ordinary even on other days of the year for someone of his status, nevermind on the day of his birth, but fifteen years have passed since he's last received something as Soma rather than as the captain, and he cannot recall even one instance in which he's ever been presented with something that didn't in some way relate to his future or life as a leader.

Kitetsutos and wakizashis of the finest calibers one could possibly forge or order, horses and motorbikes more refined than the next, vibrant and rare cloths and materials from far away lands, Hi no Moto's first-rate sakes - as long as it could be named, Soma was bound to have received it at least once, if not repeatedly. However, they all have one thing in common. Each gifter generally strives towards one of two goals: to prepare (or aid) him to lead and battle, or to gain his personal favor for later use. Even on the few instances his and the other grand generals' schedules have matched enough to meet and exchange gifts, they too had, without fail, fallen into one of the two categories. It's both a saddening and heartwarming realization, looking back on his past experiences, that even people who have known him for most of his (and most of their) life couldn't yet achieve what has taken Seiroku a mere few months to. He's been Soma's first on more fronts than the red soul has even bothered to count, and yet, as though dissatisfied with only just that many, his fiancé continues to go above and beyond to make him feel seen, loved... closer to a person rather than the concept of immovable power "Date Soma" has become synonymous with.

❛ ..."No expert"? If you hadn't told me you made it, I would've been convinced you commissioned it from a professional. ❜  It's his first thought on the matter, honest and true, and although he's already uttered a response, Soma's eyes remain glued to the tapestry, slowly taking in both the effort it must've taken for it to be woven this flawlessly (Seiroku admits it has taken him a long time, and while Soma can most definitely see why, the fact that Seiroku would personally spend his time weaving it rather than sparing himself the trouble by ordering one from their many tapissiers renders him speechless) as well as the details his love has carefully chosen to add to it, each more recognizable than the next. None merely there to fill potentially empty spots on the tapestry - every single one a precious memory of theirs that Soma can still vividly recall and which he's glad to see somewhere else than only in the confines of his memory. They're scenes of easier and happier times than customary to a bushi's daily life... of memories that they can both look fondly on rather than lament about (he's had more than his share of the latter, after all, as they can be found even on some of the walls in his room).

He blinks once, twice, thrice, making a serious effort to not tear up. It's never been easy to make Soma cry (a feat that has always required either great anguish or great happiness - mostly the former rather than the latter) and he won't do so now either, not when thousands of people are looking forward to seeing him again in the next few minutes; but that doesn't stop his eyes from growing slightly hazed from the tears threatening to spill before he forcibly pushes them back to where they came from.

His gaze lingers on the kesi tapestry in silence for a bit longer (still in mild disbelief) as he appreciates every aspect of it (the handiwork, the times they've spent together that remained etched into Seiroku's memory, the thoughtfulness and consideration behind it all) before he frees one of his hands to reach for his love's and squeezes it, eyes finally rising to meet his gaze. ❛ Thank you, Seiroku. It's by far the best gift I've received. And I don't mean just today, but on any of my previous birthdays too. ❜  A loving smile blooms from underneath the barely avoided threat of staining vulnerability as Soma can't help himself from not only returning the kiss, but placing more to Seiroku's lips before choosing to rest his forehead against his beloved's as they have for countless times. ❛ I love you. ❜ A whisper, low and tender, as though it could've otherwise disturbed their moment, and the red soul refuses to return to their vassals for at least a while longer, opting to instead pay attention to every microscopic detail of this moment, to engrave it into his memory as accurately as Seiroku has engraved their many others onto the tapestry.

A few more seconds pass in comfortable tranquility to allow them to enjoy the moment in its entirety before Soma exhales amusedly at something and ever so slightly increases the distance between them, though his tone leaves no room for any misunderstandings that might've ensued from the statement alone. ❛ Though "second best" might fit it better overall. ❜  There is no better gift he's ever been presented on a birthday, that much is certain, but he has received one on another occasion that could effortlessly top even this one (and it does, even if the tapestry is a close second).

Soma's gaze doesn't waver away from Seiroku's, upholding the eye contact even as he brings their intertwined hands higher up and places the palm of Seiroku's hand against where his heart lies in both a throwback to the day they have chosen to take this road together (matching Seiroku's thoughtful gift of memories) as well as a way to swear on his life that this is the truth he sees without verbally doing so. ❛ I don't think anything can really compare to the gift of meeting you. ❜  Every word the grand general utters is the unfiltered truth (red souls never feel inclined to spout lies, and neither does Soma) but he wants Seiroku to be as certain about this fact as someone can be. The grip on the kesi tapestry remains delicate even when it grows slightly firmer as to not accidentally drop it, and Soma leans in for another kiss after the statement settles, no longer capable of keeping himself away from the one who is, undoubtedly, the love of his life.

[cxffecoupx]

realizing that they're in love with you

seventeen × gn reader fluff, svt being soft for s/o, comfort warnings: mentions of food, alcohol word count: 1.4k author's notes: my first ever requested article. to the anon who sent me this, i love you so much and thank you so so much for sending it in, i hope you like it, and i'm so sorry it took so much time, my brain was smoked for a bit😭 but i absolutely loved writing it. i had to read similar stuff by other svt writers (mainly @emocheol how seventeen realized you were ‘the one’ and @suhnshinehaos the soft italicized 'oh' moment) to get into it. please do check them out too, i love it!!

➼ choi seungcheol

seungcheol had come home late in the evening, tired and exhausted. work was rough, the boys were chaotic, and all he wanted now was some peace and quiet. the moment he sees you at home, however, all his stress just melts away. you're just there, smiling at him, asking about his day, but he already feels so much better. and when you stay up all night, sitting with him and helping him work through his troubles, that's when it hits him. he wants you by his side as his support, forever.

➼ yoon jeonghan

you both were out for dinner with your friends. two hours and 3 glasses of beer in, the chatter had cooled down into private conversations. you were talking to one of your colleagues when you notice jeonghan zoning out in the middle of the gathering. realising he's run out of his social battery, you say your goodbyes and stand up, and drag a drowsy han back to your car. it's not until the next morning that jeonghan understands everything and smiles to himself. a person who deciphers him state of mind? maybe you were his best match after all.

➼ hong jisoo

jisoo had gone to his hometown for some two weeks to spend with his mom. he was so excited for it he didnt even notice how much you hated him leaving you. he had been quite busy during his vacation, meeting friends, spending time with mom, but something kept troubling his mind. something he had no answer for. even the voice calls and facetimes didnt help. then he returns and sees your face among all other blurred people and smiles. he never wants to stay away from you, he realises.

➼ moon junhui

between work and practice, jun hadnt really noticed his birthday approaching. coming home after work one day, a familiar scent welcomes him. he goes to the kitchen to find a pot of simmering hotpot broth and its ingredients sliced and kept aside. with the emotions flooding in with every whiff, he doesnt notice you hugging him from the back while singing a 'happy birthday' softly, and turning him around to kiss a gentle kiss on his forehead. he has no words to say; he only embraces you tight and cries on your shoulder as the members, who had arrived a little after him on your request, watch. he doesnt say anything, his eyes conveying that he's grateful for everything you've done

➼ kwon soonyoung

if you ask his friends, kwon soonyoung was a very weird person. he says he's an introvert (well, his MBTI said that), but he's as extroverted as they get. he pretends to be a tiger most of the times and his behaviour is VERY unpredictable. everyone thought he'd be difficult to tolerate or balance out. but then you came along. now they've got two very weird people to deal with. they had talked to soonyoung how he'd met his match, but he never thought more of it, until he sees you with his friends and sees something of himself in the way you are with them. he'd finally found someone who'd match his weird.

➼ jeon wonwoo

wonwoo's camera roll was full. which only meant one thing: time to save all the pics to his laptop. he inserts the sd card into the computer and opens the file. his face instantly lights up. you had always been shy in front of camera lens. meeting wonwoo was one of the best moments of your life, but it still took time for you to adjust to his captures. that didn't stop him from considering you his muse, the one he's love to click again and again and again. seeing you smiling in the pictures he took warmed his heart. you could be camera shy, but he only ever loved capturing you.

➼ lee jihoon

jihoon is a workaholic through and through. he wouldnt think twice about missing food and sleep if its to get his work done. you'd often complained about him working saturdays too. imagine the surprise his team had when he called in to announce a day off. like, what caused the mighty lee jihoon to take a day off on a saturday?? the answer was at his home, lying between his arms, a sleepy you that had cuddled your way into his arms in the early morning hours. he'd fallen in love watching you be so comfortable with him. you'd convinced him to stay home once in a while.

➼ lee seokmin

company celebrations usually always ended with fireworks. and usually, you watched it with everyone else in the hall. but this time, seokmin arranged for the keys of the roof for you two to have a better and private view of the sparklers. you sneak in with him, giggling and tripping over your own feet in the dark as you reach the roof to see the spectacular show. you walk ahead, mind blown by how much more beautiful it looked from up here. but seokmin had his eyes locked on something else. you. he'd rather admire you than watch the fireworks.

➼ kim mingyu

food was mingyu's love language. he absolutely LOVED cooking food and feeding it to his loved ones. but since after he met you, he realised he especially loved cooking for you. he loved cooking your comfort food for you. he cooked your mom's recipes when he felt that you missed home a little too much. he loved to listen to your comments when he experimented with the ingredients. it's during one such preparation when it dawned on him. he'd love to make food for you for a very long time.

➼ xu minghao

you'd always been mesmerised hearing hao speak chinese. he doesnt use it very much; pretty much only when he's calling his family or sometimes when speaking with junhui, who's also from china. to say chinese was becoming second to him wouldnt be false because he's using so much korean in his daily life. one day, while walking around the house, he hits his toe on the couch and lets out a sharp curse in his mother tongue. you gasp and say "oh my! hao just cursed," and hao quickly turns his head towards you. it's not what you said, it was how you said it that surprised him. you had responded to him in chinese?? you explain to him how you started taking small classes in learning chinese so that he could converse comfortably with you too. you even asked him to help you. hao swore once again, but in his head. someone was ready to go to such lengths for him? he's truly fallen in love with you.

➼ boo seungkwan

seungkwan had begged for you to stay overnight. it was difficult of course, because you both were tired from work. but when he pulls the ultimate puppy eyes, you couldn't really refuse. you went through an elaborate routine of doing skincare and bathing as a way of relaxing, and watching sappy sitcoms until you both fell asleep to the white noise of the tv. seungkwan woke up first, but his breath hitched seeing you asleep next to him. apart from the little snores and a string of drool from the corner of you mouth, you looked so adorable, snuggled in next to him; so tiny, and so so cute. he stayed there, watching you, silently wishing he could see you like this every morning.

➼ chwe hansol

everyone says hansol has a weird sense of humour. it's not that he doesn't make good jokes, it's just that no one reacts in the way he wishes. so when he goes, "why did the bicycle take a nap? because it was two-tiered" and you end up crying of laughter among the dead silence of his friends, he feels a blush creep up his cheeks. someone who laughs at his corny jokes? that has to be the soulmate he never believed in.

➼ lee chan

chan cannot deny that he loves smiling. laughing. chuckling. he loves to be filled with happiness at all times. whether it's through his own jokes, or his friends' crazy antics, he wishes to be happy most of the time. that's how he realises one day that being with you makes him smile automatically. there is absolutely no specific reason. seeing you, talking to you, listening to you talk about anything and everything. no matter what you do, you always manage to bring a smile to his face. he doesnt really understand it though, how it happens. but one thing's for sure. he wishes to remain happy with you always.

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Shopping in your favourite art store with Bucky brings back the memory of your first encounter, and after so much time has passed, it was with fondness that you looked back on just how starstruck you were in his presence.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✿ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✿ Tooth rotting fluff, Bucky is a flirt ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✿ I have a thing for meet cutes — sue me.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✿ Kickstart My Heart by Mötley Crüe

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✿ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 5 - "When I first met you..." — Masterlist

𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The art store you had been visiting for years was the same as ever – warm tones and homey vibes, organised by product and perfectly aesthetically pleasing to wander up and down the aisles. 

It was a wonderland you would ever willingly get lost in. 

A hand suddenly brushed your lower back, and you smiled. “You get all you need, Sunshine, baby?”

“I mean,” you hummed, turning to face Bucky. “I could get a lot more…”

“No,” Bucky deadpanned, face impassive par the raised brow. “You know the rules.”

You pouted at him, pleading silently, but Bucky only rolled his eyes and wandered off to the aisle of sketch pads and books. “You can get one more thing, that’s it,” he called over his shoulder. “No more than that.”

“Yes,” you cheered under your breath, ecstatic with the small win. With renewed excitement, you browsed the aisles of pencils and paints, a simple goal in mind. For a long while now, even before you had met Bucky, you had wanted to draw – capture the wonders in your mind and the beauty of the world around you. 

In fact, it was in this very shop where you met Bucky for the first time. Butterflies filled your stomach at the memory – you had been so shy, so taken aback that he was even talking to you, that you were sure that the shock would be permanently etched onto your expression. 

Birthday present shopping was always tricky – even more so when you were looking for something at the last damn second. The tinkle of the bell alerted your arrival, and you glanced over to see the smiling, friendly face of your friend and shop owner, Wanda. “Hey, you,” she greeted. “Back in again?”

“You know me, Wands,” you replied, shrugging. “I always leave it to the last minute.”

Wanda laughed and nodded before a fond smile made her eyes twinkle in the warm light. “Just let me know if you need help, alright?”

With a wave, you wandered through her shop, one goal in mind: a canvas of the best quality and maybe a few paints – who knew? You could walk out with a lot more; it was entirely dependent on the muse. Painting together with your friend was a tradition that you’d held for years now.

Humming a quiet song, you browsed the aisles for something to catch your eye when you side stepped and hit something solid. “Oh, shit–” You gasped, turning to see it was a person and not a shelf. The man was tall with cropped hair, a denim jacket over his shoulders, and bright blue eyes. “I am so sorry, oh my gosh–”

“You’re fine,” he replied, face blank. He quickly bent to pick up the paper you had knocked from his hands. Before you could offer more apologies, he straightened up and looked at you, gaze soft but considering. “No harm done.”

His stare pinned you in place, and your mouth opened slightly before you could stop it. “O-Okay, yeah,” you stuttered, cursing the overwhelming shyness that engulfed you whole and the damn butterflies that had taken refuge in your stomach. “I’m gonna- Uh, yeah. Bye.”

Before he could reply, you sidestepped him and rushed down the aisle to take refuge in the next one over, where more sketchbooks and pads were neatly lined up in rows on the shelves. Wanda looked up from behind the till with a sly smirk and a raised brow, as though she had heard your exchange with the handsome stranger, and you shot her a look that you hoped she’d take to heart – keep quiet. 

Taking a deep breath, you began to look properly at the options available when you felt a presence next to you. “This one’s the best,” they said, voice perfectly deep and gravelly, and the sound made the cluster of butterflies in your stomach switch into frenzied flight. “You need to make sure the paper has the thickness for your medium, y’know?”

A tattooed hand moved into your field of vision, and you took a second to stare at the intricate designs woven into tanned, rough skin – peeking out from the rings and scarred calluses. Unbidden, your eyes travelled up their arm until you were face to face with the same man as before – the same one you had bumped into. His smile was small, gentle in nature. 

“I love your tattoos,” you blurted, and your eyes widened slightly at the words that fell from your lips. But the man’s laughter was worth it – honeyed and sounding like molten chocolate, exactly like the ones you imagined from your romance books. 

“Thanks, sweetheart, I did ‘em myself,” he replied. His other arm came into view, and you glanced at it to see even more designs – this time, a wolf and some sort of machinery. 

“Wait,” you hesitated, looking into his face. A sudden realisation dawned on you – this was Bucky Barnes, the owner of one of the best tattoo shops in the area, and he was right in front of you. “Oh my god, you’re Bucky Barnes!”

“In the flesh,” Bucky laughed. He was grinning now, his eyes bright with mirth. “What’s a beautiful ray of sunshine doin’ here, huh?”

You laughed nervously, moving your hand to rub at the back of your neck on instinct. “I, um. I came to pick out a present.”

“Oh?” 

“It’s my friend’s birthday, and we paint together sometimes,” you continued. Bucky was still smiling, but his gaze was flicking between your lips and your eyes as you spoke. The butterflies continued to flutter at a frenzied pace, each bouncing off the walls with fevered excitement. You took a subtle deep breath, hoping it would calm the nerves that were beginning to boil over. 

“Sounds like fun, doll,” Bucky said, still with that damned smile on his lips. “I’m in here picking up supplies for the idiots back in the shop.”

You chuckled quietly and turned back to the paper that lined the shelves. Bucky’s hand reached out before you could look closer at the options and grabbed at least several pads, the paper bending slightly in his grip. “I best keep goin’,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll catch you at the till.”

“Okay,” you squeaked. 

Bucky winked and made his way back over to the aisle of pencils, leaving you dumbfounded, standing rooted to the spot in shock. “What the fuck,” you murmured, wringing your hands. “Just… What the fuck.”

With haste, you chose some sketch and canvas pads to share with your friend. Then you wandered over towards the paints – resolutely ignoring the way Wanda’s eyes followed you or how Bucky dawdled in front of the selection of coloured pencils, phone in hand and a startlingly serious glare on his face. 

The sound of your footsteps on the wooden floor drew his attention, and the glare softened only slightly, as he looked over at you. You smiled back at him and then looked at the vast paint selection – deciding to stick with contrasting colours. 

Before long, your arms were overflowing with paints and paper and canvases. “Hey,” you said, coming round the corner of the aisle to see Wanda waiting patiently, that sly smirk still on her lips. “I’m finally done.”

“You should have a rule that you can’t buy the whole damn store, Sunshine,” Bucky piped up from behind you, a low chuckle in his tone. You jumped slightly, turning to look over your shoulder and roll your eyes at him. 

“Oh, shush, Bucky,” Wanda teased, “you leave my girl alone.” Her hands moved to grab a bag, and she began to scan your acquired goods, her eyes glancing up and flicking between the two of you. 

“She’s the one that bumped into me!” Bucky cried, widening his eyes. “Ain’t my fault.”

���And I apologised,” you clipped back. 

“I dunno ‘bout that, doll,” Bucky replied, placing his books and massive array of pencils on the counter. “I would feel better if you let me pay for your supplies. Can’t deprive a ray of sunshine like yourself of that beautiful smile, can I?”

“Oh my god,” you breathed, hiding your face in your hands. 

Wanda chuckled next to you. “You two are so cute–Buck here is only nice around me. He’s a grumpy bastard most of the time. It’s nice to see.”

“Wands,” Bucky groaned, glaring at her. You peeked through your hands to watch the exchange. “Seriously?”

“What? I’m telling the truth,” Wanda said flippantly, continuing to scan your items until she was finished – then she started scanning Bucky’s. You went to open your mouth, but she shot you a look. “I won’t hear a word against it, darling.”

A beat of silence passed as you fidgeted with your hands. You glanced up at Wanda quickly, and she pointedly glanced between you and Bucky as Bucky stared off at something in the distance. 

Fuck it, you thought. “I-I just, I thought you were awesome,” you whispered, looking at Bucky through your lashes. He turned and looked at you, smiling while crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve been a fan for so long, and I just can’t believe you’re here–talking to me.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” Bucky said softly. “It’s good to meet you too, why don’t you come back to the shop with me–you can meet the idiots. My treat.”

“Really?” You rushed, excitement flooding your body at the prospect of meeting the entirety of 107th Ink. “I would love to, oh my god.”

Bucky winked. “Good–I have a feeling they’d love you, Sunshine. I have definitely enjoyed your company.”

“Alright, love birds,” Wanda laughed. “Here you go.”

“We’re friends!” You spluttered, and Bucky roared with laughter, shaking his head as he paid. “Wands–”

“It doesn’t matter, doll,” Bucky cut in, his eyes flashing with something. “Nothin’ wrong with a bit of flirtin’ between friends, is there?”

Ice cold realisation flooded your mind. It wasn’t everyday chatter, you were too damn starstruck by meeting an idol to realise he was openly flirting with you – Bucky Barnes, the stoic and grumpy tattoo legend, flirting with you. 

“No,” you whispered, abashed and overwhelmed. “No, there isn’t.”

Bucky didn’t appear to hear you. “Alright, Wands, see you next time.” The floors creaked under his boots as he turned to walk towards the door, and you followed quickly, waving over your shoulder at a giggling Wanda. “Let’s go meet the idiots,” Bucky remarked, grinning at you while he adjusted the bags in his hands. 

“Okay,” you replied, falling into step next to him on the footpath. “Let’s go.”

A noise from behind you startled you from the memory, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Bucky talking to another customer – expression stoic and blank as he discussed what looked to be the difference between different pencils. It was endearing, so close to how you had met him. 

You observed for a moment longer until Bucky noticed you staring, and he departed the customer’s company to walk over to you. “You alright, baby?”

“Yeah,” you sighed happily, grinning at him. “Just remembering how we met.”

Bucky chuckled. “You were so damn shy–I thought if I flirted with you anymore, you would have keeled over and died on the spot.”

“I probably would have,” you said, shaking your head. “I was so starstruck and nervous to realise it was you flirting until you paid for my things.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, throwing an arm over your shoulder to direct you to the counter where Wanda awaited, a smug smile on her lips. “You’re mine now. That’s all that matters.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[kfaem]

Love and Deepspace; when their S/O is a kpop idol

notes: brrr new fandom lets go. also yes i went MIA but hey im not like dead

the boys when MC is an idol :) this is self indulgent. im a zayne girlie but i got carried away with raf lol. im tired so this is unedited, poorly written, no structure, and kinda just rambling

Rafayel:

here me out

he was a fan for the longest time, creating multiple pieces based off of you and your likeness

you and your members go to one of his exhibitions and when you make eye contact he's immediately in love more than he was before

kinda in a weird way

but when you approach him first he's in shock and doesnt know what to do

after the initial talking period and when the relationship starts he acts like his normal self

attends every concert and fan meeting

spends hundreds of dollars on your albums, collecting your photocards and solo posters

brags about being your boyfriend on sns and your manager tries to get him to stop

thomas is so embarrassed everytime your manager reaches out and begs him to calm down cause its a bad image

doesnt care about the reporters, is willing to fight with elites over you and your reputation

he's a simp but is also kinda mean sometimes lol

is jealous when you go live and refuse to respond to him to at least an hour and makes his presence known in your chat

i find the image of the matching outfits, couples goals posts on sns, and articles where he names you his muse to just be so <3333

Xavier

You guys bumped into each other at a convenience store, both reaching for the same bag of chips

both flustered with red cheeks, you let him have it and apologized

awkward

so, so very awkward

both of you are stuck in a awkward, silent encounter and neither of you want to say anything

one of your members comes over to see whats taking you so long and realizes that you're in a standoff with a cute blond and decides to play cupid

it worked

you two end up becoming good friends, and then eventually some sort of situationship

he doesnt want to damage your career and acknowledges that you both dont have time to spend with each other

but still acts as a loving boyfriend, buying your albums, concert tickets, merch, birthday specials etc.

then when you guys go on a snack run, a reporter recognizes you and within the week you're caught up in dating rumours

deciding that you guys couldnt avoid the truth, the situationship turned into a real relationship

doesnt really make a big deal out of your relationship or your popularity. would rather spend your guys' spare time reading together, watching movies, eating good food and relaxing

the media eventually forgets but the fans dont

they love every piece of media that ever gets showed, glimpses of xavier in mirrors, reflections on water, glasses, windows. mentions of a lover in interviews when asked what inspired you

just a loving boyfriend who tries to give you a sense of normalcy outside of the flashing lights

Zayne

Childhood friends

he hates your career and how much soul it has taken from you, but also acknowledges that you love what you do and are willing to risk your health and privacy

zayne is the king of situationship lmao

dates all the time, dinners at small restaurants hiding in booths in the far corners since you both like to be alone, together

your members genuinely dont understand how hes "not your boyfriend"

has lingered on music video shoots, using his title as your personal doctor to not raise any eyebrows

doesnt go out of his way to buy your albums but... if hes at a corner store and sees it, he'll buy it. or two. or three.

keeps one of your photocards and a normal picture of you in his wallet, grayson found it on the floor in his office once after it fell out of his wallet and he could never live it down

the entire hospital staff knows but wouldnt say anything for fear of their life

always sending messages no matter what side of the world youre on. Please remember to eat, drink water, and rest as much as you can. Too much strain on your body can cause long-term side effects.

buys tickets to your concerts, trying to hold back his smile as you glow on the stage while performing in front of your many fans

yeah he gets jealous

wont say it

and you can barely tell

but the chill that fills the room when another idol hugs you and is being overly touchy is so very much obvious and has people rushing to do something else

a reporter approaches him and tries to ask about your dating life. he shuts them up with a glare. the reporter doesnt even dare publishing that article.

your fans have a basic idea of what zayne is to you, but they respect you enough to not make a scene of it.

then one of your members gets drunk on a live and asks about your boyfriend and it comes unravelled

you post a picture with him, captioned with a heart, and its never brought up again

has brought your fans food and drinks whenever they set up cafe events for support

he appreciates everything that your fans do for you and has asked them to take care of you when hes not around

your relationship is never actually made official but yall live together when you arent required to be at the dorms and own like two cats so idk

still the caregiver that we love

[anzulvr]

Fandoms separated by title, feel free to request anyone not on this list or from other fandoms this is just my current list!

ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM

Karma x Reader: On Purpose, (fic guide)

Karma x reader (headcannons + one shots)

Fashionista S/O

ACADEMIC RIVALS (karma/reader)

Tsundere Reader Hcs (Karma/Itona)

Karma/Eclass with Princess Complex Reader

Karma with S/O that cries out of anger/with a straight face

Sad during Christmas but its Karma’s birthday

[name] gets hurt while sparring with Karma

reader with insecurities

quiet reader good with kids

Hanako & Yashiro type relationship with Karma

Reader Gossiping with Karma (ft. Rio kinda)

Karma with Shinoubu-like reader

Karma with crybaby reader (fav)

perfectionist reader (who is unexpectedly like Rio and Karma)

Famous reader

two psychos who laugh during horror movies (karma x reader hanging out with Eclass)

Shy secretly delinquent reader

Muse (K.)x Artist (reader) UGH I LOVE HIM

Reader with a weapon collection

Reading him like an open book

“chill” but actually passive aggressive reader

karma comfort during a thunderstorm ..kinda!

Dating someone with a personality like his

Idol AU karma (unrelated but I didn’t realize how much I post ab him)

karma x dancer

First kiss

kpop stan reader

Karma x reader except Asano is one sidedly inlove with reader (put my SOUL into this one)

Karma hugs

Argument (timeskip angst-ish comfort)

Dating Karma Headcanons

More dating karma Headcanons

E class pushes you both into a confession

Karma / Reader fluff

Reader w toothgap

Maehara flirts with Karmas s/o, on accident. (another personal fave)

Karma and reader, cheesy pickup lines & bad puns

Karma helps reader through scary thoughts

Arcade date! KARMAAAA

flower shop au karma

karma with taller s/o

MORE KARMA HEADCANONS

Karma x detective-like reader

Online Quizzes with Karma (THAT WAS SO MANY DAMN)

— ITONA HIROBE

Tsundere Reader Hcs (Karma/Itona)

— GENERAL ASSAS CLASS

Chiba and Terasaka beat eachother up (Karma being NOSY. Koro being a dad)

reader with a gossip page on Eclass

Karma (Character Analysis, not ff)

Princess complex (Karma X reader but also E class headcannons)

— MIRACULOUS LB

Luka writes a song x reader

— OUR LIFE B&A

Two best friends like their other best friend (Cove and Derek step 2 x Reader (MC) / teasing families

[babydollmarauders]

YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, KID — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n spent her high school years changing herself to become what she thought was Jack’s type, but when they meet again a few years later, she learns that she never needed to change in order for him to like her.

warnings: eating disorder mentioned and lightly described, weed mention/use, alcohol mention/use, light profanity, changing yourself for a guy (yes, that is a warning), this is mostly angst.

notes: one of my most relatable Taylor songs to my favorite guy <3 this was proofread but if you see anything insensitive, please let me know so i can change it. for timeline purposes, i should mention that i wrote this with a summer birthday in mind for y/n.

important: THIS FIC IS NOT ROMANTICIZING ED’S. if you’re struggling with an ED, please know that you can message me any time! i understand the pain and frustration and i will always be there to help in any way possible.

14 YEARS OLD

it was in my freshman year of high school that i noticed i was a bit different than other girls my age. with them having middle school relationships under their belt, and most being in sports rather than chorus like me. i didn’t really think much of it, as boys played no part in my life besides as defacto muses for my songs. but i still felt out of place.

16 YEARS OLD

it was in the summer before my junior year that i met Jack Hughes. a USNTDP hockey player and my first official crush. my family had rented a lake house and the Hughes’ ended up being our neighbors for the summer. My parents quickly befriended Ellen and Jim, and when they realized they had children the same age, all four of them tried for weeks to get Jack and i to hang out. but to no avail, because i was shutting myself in my room for some quiet writing time, and Jack was always busy with his brothers. but when i had slipped away from my parents to go for an evening swim one night, apparently Jack had the same idea. we saw each other at the lake and got to talking, becoming friends pretty quickly after that. it was 2 weeks into the friendship that i realized he made me feel things that my other guy friends didn’t.

when we split up at the end of the summer, we promised to text, but a couple weeks later i was pleasantly surprised when i was called into the school office to show him around. with pretty similar schedules, we were seeing each other in school quite a bit, and from that our friendship only grew. i sat with him and his friends at lunch, he would pick me up for school on the mornings that my car wouldn’t start, and he would even walk me to my classes sometimes.

but because of that, my feelings grew too. i did a full one-eighty, changing my entire personality. i stopped spending my weekends at home, instead opting to attend parties, just in hopes of seeing Jack there. and i found any excuse to talk to him, for even just a minute.

**

i’m sitting in my room, struggling with my math homework when my phone starts ringing. i peel my eyes away from the worksheet to glance over at it, and my heart flutters when i see Jack’s name, his picture lighting up the screen. i quickly press the answer button, holding the phone up to my ear.

“hey” i say.

“hey! you texted saying you have a question?” his voice is raspy, words coming out slow and slightly slurred, and i can hear Trevor, Alex, and Cole talking in the background. he’s smoking weed.

“uh, yeah. i had a question about the Algebra 2 homework, but i can just ask you tomorrow when you’re in a better state of mind.” i laugh.

“how’d you know?” i can hear his grin through the phone, and it makes me smile.

“call it best friend’s intuition. i’ll let you get back to the guys.” i tell him. we say our goodbyes and i hang up, taking another second to stare at my phone with a goofy smile before i turn back to my math homework.

**

during the school year, i listened to him talk about each girl he was seeing throughout the year. each of them pretty, skinny, and blonde. and eventually, i wondered if he would like me as more than his annoying best friend, if i looked like those girls. so i would stare in my mirror for hours some nights, pinpointing things i should change about myself. as like most teenage girls, i had always been insecure, wishing to change myself. but now i learned to use Jack as an excuse for it. and from there, things started developing.

i begged my mom for weeks to let me dye my hair, and when she finally caved, i went to the salon and went blonde. but my hair wasn’t the only thing that changed. my eating habits were altered. slowly at first, just cutting out certain foods, and then all at once. i started skipping meals, excusing myself from dinner by saying i had a large lunch, leaving the house quickly in order to avoid breakfast, and only eating at lunch when Jack expressed concern about my lack of food. like now.

“good afternoon, hockey knuckleheads. your favorite person has arrived.” i announce my arrival at the lunch table while dropping my book bag by my seat, interrupting the boys current conversation. they all look at me, quickly saying their hello’s.

“y/n, you’d give me an autograph, right?” Trevor asks, and my face pinches in confusion.

“uh, what?” i ask.

“like, if you knew you were gonna be famous one day. you’d give me an autograph right now, right?” he clarifies.

“ignore him.” Jack laughs, pushing Trevor’s face away from he and i. he turns back to look at me, eyeing the empty tabletop in front of me. his smile drops and he turns to his backpack, pulling out a protein bar. he throws it over on the table in front of me, it landing with a smack, making me flinch.

“eat.” he tells me. my eyes bounce between the snack and him, studying his serious expression.

“i’m fine, Jack. i ate a big breakfast this morning, so i’m not hungry. keep this for when you need it at practice.” i tell him, sliding the snack back towards him. but of course my stomach speaks volumes, deciding right then to grumble loudly. Jack raises an eyebrow at me and slides the bar back over to me. i sigh, opening it up and taking a bite. he smiles at the sight, and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“good girl.”

17 YEARS OLD

it’s the end of senior year now, and i’ve gotten no closer to dating Jack than i was before. i’ve spent countless nights alone in my room, writing songs about him and crying over snapchat stories of him with other girls.

it’s another friday night, and that means another party in hopes of Jack seeing me dressed up. this time, my own party. with my parents out of town for the weekend, i took the chance to throw a party, inviting what felt like my entire grade in a mass text.

i walk around the house, my blonde hair curled and in a half-up-half-down do. i’m decked out in a tight fit black mini dress with black ballet flats to match, and i did a full glam makeup look. i scan the living room for Jack, but when i finally find him, i immediately feel tears pricking at the back of my eyes.

he’s sat on the couch, a pretty blonde draped across his lap, whispering in his ear as he nods, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, and a grin on his face. our friends were sat around him, some having their own discussions, and some singing along to the music playing on the surround sound speakers.

i go to spin back around, fully planning on going upstairs to my room for a quick cry, but before i can fully turn, i lock eyes with Jack. he raises his hand in a wave and beckons me over and i offer a weak smile in return. i look around the party once more and feel something snap inside of me.

i feel so stupid. i’ve spent the last almost two years of my life changing myself to try and get his attention and to have him look at me in a new light. spent almost two years overanalyzing his every move and i let my final two years of high school slip by me. instead of living in the moment and enjoying my rapidly declining time with my friends, i was wondering if Jack had seen my snapchat story, or if he did then why didn’t he slide up? amongst various other things to do with him.

i was done revolving my entire life and every decision i make around a guy who obviously doesn’t like me the way i like him.

21 YEARS OLD

it’s been four years since i started living for myself. in that time, i went to a treatment center for my eating disorder, graduated college, moved to New Jersey for a new job, and made new friends. i haven’t talked to Jack in three of those years. not because i didn’t want to, but because after high school, our friendship fizzled out. he went on to play in the NHL, and i went to college. we both lived busy lives, and it became too much to handle. i still talk to the other guys, Trevor the most, but not nearly as much as i used to.

now i’m sat in a club. it’s a saturday night, and my friend Yaz wanted to go do her favorite hobby. seeing how many men she can get to buy her free drinks. currently, she’s chatting up a cute brunette with an accent out on the dance floor, and i’m sat by myself at the bar. drinking an almost gone shirley temple and wondering why i agreed to go out when i would much rather be snuggled on my couch with a blanket and a movie. i’m debating telling Yaz that i’m gonna leave, when a guy sidles up next to me, taking the seat on my right and throwing me a smile.

“hi, i’m Dawson.” he holds his hand out and i slip mine in it, shaking.

“hi, i’m y/n.” he nods before turning back to a table of guys.

“IT’S HER!” he yells over, and my brows furrow, face pinching in confusion. he turns back to me and smiles again. “sorry. my friend said he thought he knew you, but he didn’t wanna come over and then be wrong.”

it’s at that moment that a shadow encases us, and i glance over my shoulder to see the one person i wasn’t expecting.

“hey!” Jack takes a seat on Dawson’s abandoned chair. i didn’t even notice he had slipped away. “it’s been so long!”

i blink a few times, just taking in the man in front of me. he looks good. like, really good. i wasn’t naive enough to think that the love i held for him had been snuffed out, i’m just comfortable with myself enough now, that i know that changing myself for him won’t do anything except hurt me.

“hey.” i breathe out. “wow. uh, i wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“yeah, i wasn’t really expecting to see you either. what are you doing in New Jersey?” he asks. okay, it’s not like i’m stupid. i knew Jack lived in New Jersey. i just also know it’s a big state and the possibility of us running into each other was slim. but apparently the universe likes to laugh in my face.

“i live here.” i tell him. “i moved here a few months ago, for a job.”

“and you didn’t call me? i thought we were friends!” he jokes, and i stiffen at the word. friends. yeah, that’s all we’ve ever been. “can we go somewhere? to talk?”

i nod and he leads me out of the club. i send a quick text to Yaz that i went outside for a few minutes, and she responds with a thumbs up emoji. Jack and i stop outside the entrance. the club stopped letting people in about half an hour ago, so there’s no line, just us and a bouncer standing about fifteen feet away at the entrance.

“well, you look good! you went back to your natural hair color, i like it. it suits you better than the blonde.” Jack starts off, and his words strike a nerve in my heart. he didn’t like me blonde? i knew it didn’t change anything with how he felt about me, but i didn’t know he disliked it in general.

“you look healthier too. that makes me really happy, y/n. my mom told me a couple years ago that your mom said you got treatment for your…disorder. i’m really proud of you.” my heart breaks a little more at his soft tone, he seems genuine. “i saw you earlier, with your friend. you have the spark in your eye back. i’m really glad you seem happy again. i’m just sorry i didn’t do anything before, to help you with anything you were going through. i was a naive kid, i just thought you’d come to me if you were struggling. but looking back, i realize that i should’ve reached out to help you regardless.”

“Jack, you shouldn’t blame yourself. you were a kid. i was a kid too, i didn’t understand the full extent of what i was doing.” i tell him. tears prick at my eyes and i blink them away.

“can i ask you a question?” he asks.

“of course.” i nod.

“why did you do it? was there a reason? i mean, at the time, it felt like you completely just changed overnight. but maybe it was a gradual thing and i just didn’t realize it back then.” i lose hope in keeping my tears at bay, letting one roll freely down my cheek. “you don’t have to tell me. obviously. it’s your business. i just- i’ve been wondering.”

i take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to explain.

“i was a naive kid, Jack. i liked a guy and i thought if i changed myself, maybe he would like me too. but it didn’t work, and instead i realized that i was just harming myself by not eating, doing things i hated, going to parties just to try and get his attention. looking back at it now, it was stupid. but back then, it seemed like the best idea i had ever had.”

“you did all that for a guy?” he asks. but his tone isn’t the usual one i get from people when i tell them about my past. it’s not incredulous, or judgmental, or even pitiful. he just sounds, sad. i just nod my head. “well, whoever he was, he wasn’t worth it. if a guy doesn’t like you for you, then he’s an idiot, and he doesn’t deserve you. i’m really glad you see that now. although, i wish you would’ve known it before.”

if only he knew.

“switching the topic.” i say, and he lets out a small breathy chuckle. “how have you been?”

“i’ve been good. just, trying not to get injured on ice, ya know?” i nod along.

“oh yeah, i remember. i still don’t understand why you would put yourself through that barbaric game.” i joke and he laughs. the sound causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, and it almost feels no time has gone by at all. i still feel like a lovesick teenager.

before either of us can speak again, my drunk friend stumbles out of the club, an arm looped through Dawson’s.

“hey, i thought i’d bring this one back to you. she kinda seems like she might need to sober up some.” Dawson tells me, and i thank him. Yaz lays her head on my shoulder, and Dawson says his goodbye to me and Yaz before slipping back inside.

“who’s this?” Yaz stage whispers, studying Jack who still stands in front of me. Jack and i laugh at her drunken attempt at being quiet.

“this is Jack.” i tell her. “Jack this is my friend, Yaz.”

“Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack.” Yaz repeats, and it’s like i can see the gears turning in her head. “that name sounds so familiar. Jack.”

“hey, wait! isn’t that the name of that guy you told me about? the one you were madly in love with in high school?” she blurts out, and my eyes turn as wide as saucers. i can feel my face heating up. i turn to look at my friend, who apparently has absolutely no filter when she’s had too much to drink. before any of us can say another word, a blue car pulls up and Yaz’s sister, Cara, steps out. “Yay! my ride!”

Yaz stumbles over to her, only stopping to turn and blow me a kiss before letting her sister help her in the car. Cara throws me a smile and a goodnight before getting in herself and driving away. leaving only me and the guy Yaz just exposed my love for.

i turn back to Jack, finding him wide eyed and repeatedly blinking. i open my mouth, but nothing comes out. i’m not sure what to say. but apparently Jack does.

“it was me?” he asks, pointing to his chest. “i was the guy?”

i feel like i might be sick. i never meant for him to know. i thought i would take that secret to my grave. i manage a weak nod, not able to physically speak.

“why- i mean- why did you think you had to do those things to yourself, y/n? i- i’m just— i’m so confused.”

“you had a type.” i shrug. “you dated all these girls, in high school. and they all had the same things in common. blonde, skinny, pretty, outgoing. you liked all those girls romantically so i thought maybe if i was more like them, you would like me like that too.”

“but i did like you like that!” he exclaims. i furrow my brows and my nose scrunches in confusion.

“what?” i whisper.

“i did like you romantically! i just thought i never had a chance with you. so, i busied myself with other girls. why do you think none of them ever lasted long?” he asks.

“i don’t know, i never really thought about that.” my head swarms with all this new information.

“because, they weren’t you.” he pleads. “i tried to forget those feelings for you by dating other girls, girls that before i met you, were my type. but they weren’t you. none of them were you.”

he steps forward, taking my face in his hands.

“i can’t believe you thought you had to change for me. fuck, i’m so stupid. i should’ve just told you i liked you when i first realized my feelings.” he breathes out.

“you can tell me now if you want?” i offer meekly, my head spinning. i want to kiss him. i’ve waited almost six years for this moment, and dear god i want to kiss him. now quite possibly more than ever.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispers. “i’ve loved you since the summer we were sixteen and you tried to push me off the dock into the lake, and i pulled you in with me. i still remember when you popped back up in front of me in the water. my first thought was ‘she’s so beautiful.’”

i inhale a shaky breath before tilting my head up to cover his lips with mine. kissing him with desperation and need. need to not waste another second that i could spend being with him. Jack is frozen for a second before his lips start moving against mine. his hands trail down my body to grip my hips, pulling me towards him. we fit together like a puzzle piece. my own hands grip the hair at the nape of his neck. we pull away from each other, and i look into his eyes.

“i love you too.” i whisper. “if that wasn’t obvious yet.”

“yeah? i don’t know, i think you might need to show me again.” he smirks and leans back down capturing my lips in a kiss once more.

[maopll]

Could I request something like this https://www.tumblr.com/maopll/712602219674058752/hello-hello-may-i-request-zhongli-kaeya-ayato?source=share

but with Kaveh, Itto, Childe, and Thoma?

My muse | genshin edition !

#pt.1 here || pt.2 !

⌗:, where you draw your lover in a sketchbook only for him to soon find out the peculiar way you show your love and adoration for him ♡

⌗:, a/n: what if I draw them in jojo poses ?...

⌗:, warning: there are gingers and blondes and bullchucker. there's mention of blood in childe's part.

⌗:, pairings: kaveh, itto, childe & thoma w/ gn!reader

KAVEH —

It was a warm Sunday evening. The afternoon glow of the sun illuminated the room. You and your lover, Kaveh, are basking in the quiet comfort of eachother. On the sofa, you sat crossing your feet and sketching countless pictures of what or of who. Your lover sat on the other side, making minute and very careful details of splendid architectural designs. You noticed the way his face would scrunch up when he would make those little designs on the railing or even on the roof. The way he would do a soft 'yes!' When he got something right on his first try. You recorded down every single detail on the small sketchbook of yours. When you would feel his gaze upon you, you would be quick while closing the book lest he sees what you made.

However, on his birthday you decided to gift him the sketchbook. He was dumbfounded and asked why you would give him something you were using. Until he flipped the pages and marvelled at the beautiful drawings you made of him. for him. It was simple yet so meaningful to him. His eyes filled with tears with how pure and sweet your love for him was. You were his everything, a beacon of light in his world.

ITTO —

Having you as his s/o was like winning the lottery. There wasn't a single moment that he didn't enjoy when he was with you. Whenever he would be playing onikabuto fights with the kids in hanamizaka, you would shelter yourself under a tree and sketch away the little doodle of your lover. Capturing each and every little detail of his face. The way he would scrunch up his nose when he would be thinking of his next move or the utter look of shock on his face when he would lose for the nth time...

Nevertheless, you find this hobby to be quite comforting. The sun was already starting to set, and the kids had returned home. Your lover hadn't won a single round, but he doesn't care much about it. As soon as they were gone, he went up to you screaming, "Hey babe!" only to find that you have fallen asleep. It's alright he's strong enough to carry his lover on his back, but he was in for a little surprise. When he picked you up in his arms, he saw the sketches, doodles of his and his...abs? although he has minimum knowledge about art and anatomy, he was still surprised seeing someone looking very similar to him and his name on YOUR notebooks. Ofcourse your one and only oni should be the one to grace the pages of your sketchbook! and also to grace your soft lips!

CHILDE —

Bloodshed, Bloodlust, Bloodthirst. That's all he knew all his life. He barely found respite, but with your coming into his life, things started to get a lot better, and he found happiness with you.

Your lover, childe, has gone out once again to take care of some "business." Apparently, he has loads of things to take care of, so today was another one of those sleepless and quite cold nights in Snezhnaya where you yearn for your lovers warmth but unfortunately he cannot be there. The candle was lit by your bedside table. You used the faint glow it provided to draw on your sketchbook. After all, you needed something to help you sleep, and this was the best thing you could do now. It was 3 p.m. now. Childe entered through the front door into your shared home. He tiptoed softly and carefully to not wake you up since it was an odd time to be awake. He stepped foot into your room and smiled, seeing you fast asleep. It was quite cold, and your blanket wasn't on top of you. While pulling the covers over you, he saw him drawn on your sketchbook. He looked at the drawings and he felt butterflies in his stomach. A faint shade of pink was dusting his face and a small smile graced his lips. "ajax?...you're home?" you spoke in a drowsy tone. He smiled and said "I'm home" while removing the sketchbook from you and setting it aside. Although the room was quite dark, you swear you saw a faint glimmer in his eyes...

THOMA —

He runs back and forth around the house from morning to evening. As expected, he grows tired by the end of the day, even if he tries napping during his breaks. You, however, seize this opportunity to admire his angelic features more closely since he is static in one place. At least for some time...

The Kamisato Estate was obviously busy with him conducting some classes about housework and dealing with the housework of the estate. Finally it was four o'clock in the afternoon and he had finally got his much needed rest. While he dozed off on your lap, taking in the comfortable warmth, you were busy sketching away on your sketchbook. His eyes, his sleepy face, his ruffled hair, his parted lips. Not a single detail would you miss. When his rest was finally over, he got up, but you had fallen asleep. It's understandable since you also work around the house with him a lot. When he tried getting up, the book fell from your hand. Whilst trying to pick up the book, he saw his sketches on your book. He was amazed and embarrassed since he was drawn so intricately on such a small piece of paper. A soft hue of pink bloomed across his face. He turned his body towards you and gently caressed your face. He kissed your temple and whispered "sleep well dear.."

[starcrossedxwriter]

Date Night (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: it's just our favs being horny as hell lol NSFW

A/N: Fluff was requested because of what I put y'all through in Part 9 lmaoooo so here you go! Enjoyyyyyyy!

“What do you think?” Charlotte spun around in her third outfit of the night. She did a couple fake model poses as if she were in front of a photographer. 

Michael glanced up from his cell phone, a whistle escaping his lips. He was already dressed, a graphic tee, black jeans, jacket and boots. He had been ready for the last 30 minutes. His girlfriend, however, had brought half her closet to his house and between those clothes and the ones she kept there, she still could not decide on an outfit.

“Sexy as fuck… just like the last two outfits. We gotta go soon if we actually want to make the game.” 

She turned in the mirror, ignoring his urges to hurry. “None of these are good. I dunno. I think this makes me look a little pudgy. These jeans barely fit anymore. Look at my legs… short and stubby… And my waist is huge.” She gestured down at her body, which had gotten a bit thicker since Michael first met her. But unlike Charlotte, he loved it. Relationship weight, happy weight, looked damn good on her. 

“I like it, your body looks great. Just gives me something good to grip when I’m fuckin’ you from the back.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled at him, “You are so vulgar for no reason,” she laughed. “Ugh.” She stepped out of her jeans and threw the sweater onto the bed. 

“And you won’t be saying that when I get fat… then you won’t be attracted to me anymore and you’ll be dragging me to the gym with you,” she mumbled as she walked into his massive closet and went to her side. Michael had cleared out a nice section for her to keep clothes there, making it far easier for her to stay as many nights as she wanted without having to pack a new bag. “It’s just our first date at a public event since the premiere. I wanna look nice.” 

“That’ll literally never happen. You’re sexy at any size and every outfit you’ve put on since you started getting dressed an hour ago. But if you need help choosing,” he jumped off the bed and jogged to her side, pulling out a black mini dress she had in the closet. “This dress with those thigh high boots, andddd,” he jumped off the bed and jogged to his side of the closet before pulling out a dusty rose colored bomber jacket that matched one of the many colors in his t-shirt. “This. I bought it during filming so it’ll be oversized.” 

She raised her eyebrow before stepping into the fourth outfit. Even she could not deny that she looked damn good. The dress accentuated her shape and curves, the boots made her legs look longer, and the jacket pulled the whole look together. It was clearly a men’s jacket, which she knew would turn a head or two, but its oversized nature made her look chic and cozy. And their coordination was just subtle enough that it wouldn’t look like they tried too hard.

“What do you think?”  

“You look better in that jacket than I did,” he remarked as she stood in front of the mirror. “Sexy and sleek. Comfy and will look good in photos court side.” 

“Look at you. A secret stylist too?? I might have to keep you around, Mr. Jordan,” she mused, her hands working to put on her earrings. with a playful smile as he grabbed her hips and watched her.

“That’s the plan, beautiful. You know what would look good with that dress?” 

“Hmm? More of your clothes?” 

Michael produced a thin Tiffany blue box, a perfectly tied white ribbon and bow surrounding it. 

“What’s this?” Charlotte moaned pitifully, her heart soaring at his thoughtfulness. “It’s not my birthday o-or Christmas or anything.”

He shrugged. “I don’t need a special day to give you a gift. I just saw it and thought you’d like it.”

You couldn’t have wiped the smile off of her face as she opened the delicate box to reveal a rose gold necklace. The diamond pendant set at the center was large and beautiful but the whole piece still had a certain understated quality about it. It was not gaudy and loud but it still drew your eye like moths to flames. She was surprised at how well he knew her style. She was not even a big jewelry wearer on an everyday basis but it fit the simplistic vibe of the jewelry she did own and was subtle enough that she did not need a special occasion to put it on. 

“Bakari,” she took a sharp breath. “I-It’s beautiful. Bu-” 

He immediately shook his head. He was still trying to get Charlotte to accept him spoiling her without questions. “No buts. You like it?” 

“I l-love it. It’s amazing and so timeless. It’s perfect.” 

“That’s all I need to hear. Turn around for me.” She turned to face the mirror again, her eyes trained on his hands as he placed it around her neck and fastened it for her. 

Her hand immediately went to caress the pendant, studying the most expensive piece of jewelry she had ever had in her possession. 

“It’s…” she was at a loss for words as she looked at herself. 

Michael pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck before he let her curls fall back into place. “Perfect.” 

She turned back to face him, his hand adjusting the piece on her chest. 

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” 

His fingers lingered on her skin for a moment, her breath hiking slightly. She leaned in and kissed him, the pair’s lips and hands exploring each other as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed. 

“W-what about the g-game?” She asked in a teasing tone as he tossed her down. “Weren’t you j-just rushing me about being late?” 

He smirked at her as he hooked his hands on the fabric on her thong and pulled it to her knees. 

“You want me to stop?” 

Cocky mother fucker, she thought to herself. He knew exactly what she wanted him to do. Feast on her, love on her, send her to other dimensions. However, she merely gave him a noncommittal shrug that she knew would rile him up, pretending she did not care if their quickie continued or ended. 

“Oh really? Aight, ma,” he muttered as he dove between her legs. 

Charlotte’s thighs clamped around his head as he slid two fingers into her pussy, which was already dripping with need. 

“F-fuck!” She cried out as he curled his fingers into her g-spot, his tongue spelling out his name against her clit. He pulled out every trick he knew, every action he knew turned her into a blubbering weeping mess. And it was not his usual slow build, he hit the gas pedal hard, going 0 to 100 in seconds. “J-just like that… fuck. I l-love it.” 

However, Michael was, too, in a teasing sort of mood. The moment he noticed her telltale signs of cumming, he slowed down, stealing her orgasm from her. The first time, she merely groaned, realizing his game fairly quickly. An expletive or two might’ve slipped, her words calling him a few colorful names. But she refused to back down. She knew what he wanted and she was convinced she would not cave. 

However, what she did not account for was how much stronger the sensations would feel every time he restarted. Each flick of his tongue and stroke of his finger felt amplified by 10. She bit down on her lip to keep the pleas from falling from the tip of her tongue. 

She knew when he finally let her cum, it would be heavenly but the build up was nothing short of torture. Glorious torture… the type she would gladly sign up for again and again but torture nonetheless. However, when he stole her orgasm from her the third time, all that ego and pride flew out the window. 

“B-Baby, p-please,” she begged as he brought her to the edge and slowed for the third time. Tears started to spring to her eyes as he detached his lips from her clit. 

“You want me to stop?” He asked again as his hands continued fucking her, slow and deliberate, this time knowing exactly what the answer would be. She rocked her hips to meet every thrust, her mind wishing she would will him to speed up, add another finger, or fuck her harder. However, it wasn’t enough. She knew she would have to give in. “Tell me what you want, baby.” 

“N-No. D-don’t stop… P-please don’t stop,” she begged, a loud sigh of relief escaping her as he devoured her clit once again. And this time, he did not stop. 

Her hands gripped the comforter on his bed, the fabric bunching up in her hands as he finally took her all the way to her peak. He was a God carrying her to Mt. Olympus and she wished she could stay in that moment forever. 

A gentle tap to her thigh brought her back to Earth and reminded her to release him from the confines of her thighs. 

“S-sorry,” she whispered. 

He shook his head as he leaned over her lucid body and kissed her. “That’d be my preferred way to die, if you were wondering.” 

“Noted.” His hands grabbed her arms and helped pull her up so she could stand. 

“You ready?” 

Her eyes grew wide and her jaw fell. She assumed the game was a thing of the past. “You still expect me to go to the game after that??” She gestured toward the bed.

“Yes, and there’s more of that when we get back.” 

She wiggled her eyebrows. She did not much care about this basketball game but she most certainly liked the sound of that. 

***

Charlotte stayed close to Michael as he weaved them through the crowded stadium. She had never been to a basketball game in person but she had certainly never expected to go to one like this. Security escorted them through back doors and hallways directly to their seats, they did not even get to see the stadium. She had to keep reminding herself that while the perks of fame were new to her, they wasn’t to her boyfriend. 

She appreciated that Michael could tell she was a bit overwhelmed. Their hands stayed interlocked, his body close to hers as security directed them. She did not think his sexiness could increase in her eyes but in this light, it did. He was a true Hollywood star. It radiated off him, seas parted as he walked, she watched as he drew the eye of almost every woman they passed by. And it was effortless for him. 

By the time they reached their seats, Charlotte was so taken and turned on by his energy that she did not really care to watch the game at all. She wanted to drag him back to his place and finish what they started before they left. 

She tried to resist it, resist the way lust always curled in her belly at his smirks and playful glances her way and his touch. Fuck… his hands. Even the most mundane, chaste of touches sent jolts of pleasure and longing through her body that made her want to rip his clothes off. She was just overwhelmed at times by her lust for him. It seemed to never end and was never satiated. But thankfully, she knew it was not one-sided. He seemed just as smitten and taken by her, just as turned on by the simplest of tasks, looks, and touches. 

However, one downside of fame was that she had to, at least, appear as though she was not fucking him with her eyes every five seconds. She knew they’d be on camera throughout the night, which meant a level of decorum was required of them both. However, in this honeymoon stage of their relationship where lust and longing were at their peak, decorum was a feat in and of itself. 

“This your first Lakers game, right?” 

“My first NBA game at all, any team. Another first for you to collect. I’m excited. Don’t really understand it though…” 

“Well good thing you got an expert with you.” 

She nodded and pecked him on the lips. “Good thing I do.” 

Charlotte’s body leaned into his as they settled into the game, one of his arms on the back of her seat while the other rested across her thighs. His hand gripped the meat of her outer thigh and rubbed the soft exposed skin throughout the game. Every so often, he’d lean over and whisper facts or explain things in her ear, his basketball and Lakers knowledge appeared limitless. 

She settled back and watched the game and watched Michael and Kevin Hart who sat next to her. They were both thoroughly invested in the game in a way Charlotte was not but found more entertaining to watch than the game itself. They were hilarious and animated, acting as if they were coaches on the sideline instead of spectators. But she imagined it felt that way to them watching from their seats, up close and personal.

Michael’s tutorials throughout the game did not stick, Charlotte too taken by his voice and the discreet but sensual touches on her thigh to retain any of the information coming out of his mouth. By the time halftime started, she realized she had little to no idea what was even happening in front of her as her mind had floated away thinking about the bliss that awaited her when she and Michael finally got home. 

They both started chatting and joking around with Kevin Hart and his date as halftime progressed, their conversation cut short by cheering throughout the crowd. The two couples glanced up to find the Kiss Cam on the Jumbotron. It caught a few unsuspecting couples, each one playing along and offering a very cute but conservative kiss for the cameras. 

“Awwww… they’re really cute,” Charlotte whispered to Michael, pointing at one elderly couple.

However, she was shocked to look up again and find the camera suddenly on them, the Jumbotron already having their names across the bottom of the screen.

Michael leaned in and whispered, “What do you say we give ‘em a show?” 

She pretended to contemplate as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to kiss him, which made him scrunch his face up in faux offense. She laughed and gave him a quick peck before the announcer called out their chaste kiss. 

“You two can do better than that!” 

Michael’s finger went to her chin, lifting her gaze to his, before he grinned and pressed his lips against hers. It was sensual and slow but still tamed as he knew the entire stadium watched. However, she savored the few seconds it lasted. His lips lingered against hers for a moment, such a featherlike touch that let her know he was exercising extreme control and restraint. 

Her legs tightened together as they pulled away, offering a polite wave to the crowd before the camera moved on to spotlight another couple. 

“What’d you say we get outta here before the fourth quarter?” He whispered in her ear, his intentions clear with every word. 

“I’d say even that’s too long but I’ll manage.” 

“Y’all two are nasty,” Kevin remarked, teasing the couple, which caused both of them to turn their heads in embarrassment. “Been a couple in public for 10 minutes and don’t know how to act. Get some couth about you, damn.” 

What came next were the longest 12 minutes of Charlotte’s life. Followed by the longest car ride of her life and the longest walk into Michael’s house. By the time they entered, they did not even make it to his bedroom. They just stumbled into his kitchen, their limbs moving on pure muscle memory through his dark house and into the kitchen. As soon as his hand met the counter, he hoisted her up and got on his knees between her legs.

However, before he could hook one leg over his shoulder to continue worshiping her, she sat up. 

“No,” she shook her head, pulling his face to hers. “I don’t want that. I want to taste you.”

He stood up, allowing her to fall to her knees below him, licking her lips as she unbuckled his jeans. She had been dreaming about this for the last hour. It had taken her a few days to get over her own hangups about giving head. She was good at it but it was a chore to her. Now she laughed at how nervous she had been the first time, surprised that Michael laid back and gave her complete control. Control over his pleasure and the pace. Since then, she found the act made her feel powerful and sexy. She had control, his pleasure at her mercy, and she loved every second of it. And she could tell he did too. It was far from a chore to her now, it was something she looked forward to and craved almost as much as Michael did.

She started off slow, the tip of her tongue lightly licking the underside of his dick. She basked in every moment of it as if he was the best lollipop she had ever tasted in her life. She gathered all the moisture in her mouth and spit on his dick, her spit sliding down his shaft. She slid her lips over the head, just taking the tip of him and sucking lightly as her hand massaged him, spreading her spit along his length. She could feel him twitch beneath her, a groan escaping his lips. 

“Don’t tease me, baby.” 

“Not enjoying a taste of your own medicine?” She asked, reminding him of his little game earlier that almost had her weeping for release. 

He chuckled, nodding. “Aight. But when you don’t get a break later, I don’t wanna hear shit.” 

“I think you’re underestimating how much I like a challenge, baby.” 

She grinned before enveloping his length into her warm, wet mouth. Though she wished she could tease him, the reality was… she lacked his patience. She wanted to feel him cum and not even proving a point would stop her. She kept her eyes trained on him, loving his facial expressions as she sucked him. His eyes were the most expressive, windows into his soul. And when she was on her knees beneath him, she saw it all: desire, bliss, pleasure, pride, and love.

Her eyes watered as she worked to accommodate him, light and lewd gagging noises filled his kitchen. She was thankful for weekends like this when his parents went back to New Jersey because they could utilize the many surfaces and rooms throughout his house with no fears of interruptions. Lazy sex on the couch while watching a movie? Say less. A quickie bent over the counter while they cooked dinner? More of that, please. 

“You take me so well,” he moaned, his hand twisted in her curls. As much as he wanted to take the reigns and fuck her throat, he restrained himself, allowing her to maintain the pace and control she wanted. “You like sucking this dick?”

He could tell she lit up at his praise, a moan vibrating around him as she nodded.

“You look so fuckin’ sexy… that’s right, Els. Take all this dick, baby.” 

He panted lightly as Charlotte increased her efforts. Her gagging and slurping sounded filthy as it grew louder and louder as she sucked him, sneaking gasps of air every chance she got. 

“I’m g-gonna cum,” he warned her, Charlotte increasing the intensity for a few moments until she felt him bust down her throat. He held her head against him for a moment as she swallowed before releasing her, both of them panting for a moment. However, he did not give her much time for a break. 

He did not even give her a chance to strip down before he helped her to her feet and pushed her, face down, onto the counter. She hissed as her bare arms came in contact with the cold granite, thankful she still had her dress on though it was now bunched around her waist. He did not even take her thong off this time, he just pushed it to the side.

She moaned as he filled her, his nails digging into the skin of her hips. There was nothing slow and sensual about it. This was pure fucking. Fast. Rough. Uninhibited. Their bodies were the other’s drug and they were in an outright chase to get their fix of each other.

She used her forearms as leverage to throw her ass back to meet every thrust, not allowing him to do all of the work and proving she still had some stamina to play with. However, Michael would never be outdone so he lifted one of her legs and pressed it against the counter. 

Charlotte let out a gasp at the position, the stretch of her hips and how deep she could feel every stroke. All she could do was pant and beg for more as he fucked her fast and deep, her one leg almost giving out beneath her as she came around him. But his grip and strength kept her standing as always. 

“I’m cl-close, baby. You want me to cum in this pussy??” 

Lost in the clouds of lust and desire, Charlotte did not quite calculate the long term implications of that statement. She could only think minutes ahead and she wanted to feel him fill her.

“Y-Yes,” she moaned. 

She let out a content sigh as she felt him fill her, warmth spreading inside her. Her arms collapsed beneath her for a moment as Michael leaned against the counter opposite of her, his eyes never leaving her ass, which was still perched high in the air for him. 

As the haze left them both, realization seemed to hit them both like a train. 

“You took your birth control today, right?” He asked, scratching his head as Charlotte immediately busted out laughing. 

“You know, I feel like it would’ve been smarter to ask that before you came inside me?” She joked, pushing her dress back down her thighs and adjusting her underwear. “But yes, I took it. We,” her voice dragged out the word as she contemplated before deciding it was better to be safe than sorry. “Should still probably pick up some Plan B though… unless you want an oops baby?” 

He let out a belly laugh. “If I’m gonna have an oops baby, I’d want it to be with you.” He kissed her on the cheek. 

“Awwww,” her lips twisted into a little pout. “That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She kissed him. “But we are definitely going to get the Plan B,” she whispered against his lips. “Can’t have your mom and the rest of the world thinking I’m a whore trying to trap you. Put on your shoes.” 

He groaned, his body exhausted, “We gotta go right now?? Isn’t it a ‘morning after’ pill? Like it’s still gonna be effective in the morning right?” 

She nodded, teetering on her heels. “Yes,” she admitted. “But… I’m starvinggggg. So on the way back from the drug store, we’d already be out and we could stop by… In & Out Burger?” 

“I can’t eat that stuff… my diet remember, babe?” 

“Come onnnnnn… one cheat meal for me?? We just put in serious work just now, Bakari. We earned a few extra calories.” 

He laughed, knowing his trainer would not accept such flawed logic. “Fine but when Calliet gets on my ass tomorrow, you’ll owe me.” 

“Deal.” She pulled him in flush to her body. She nippled lightly on his ear, teasing his favorite spot for a moment before whispering. “Tomorrow, I’ll give you a massage.” 

“I dunno if that’s gonna be enough.” 

She offered him a sly smirk. “Well, I’m sure I can get creative about how to make these calories worth it.”  

He nodded and grabbed his car keys. “Come on. I already got some ideas I can tell you in the car.” 

Tag list: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh

***

A/N: I hope this helps ease the pain! And I'll go ahead and write some fluff to accompany part 10 cause y'all are just gonna hate me again lmaooooo

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 3: Baking halloween treats - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse  x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not that I could think of, kind of whoesome

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Baking is always fun no?

Notes: I don’t think I’ve messed anything up yet. Whoop whoop lets go

Jason Voorhees: Kind of wholesome with Jason, he absolutely loves when you bake, he could smell it from outside the cabin and it’s usually what lures him back home to you. His favorites would be apple pie, sometimes you’d make little designs with the crust, which would be his favorite part, feeling flustered when he’d see little cut outs of hearts plastered across the baked crust. This would be his favorite desert, sometimes you’d have to smack his hand out of the pan telling him you had to eat first before desert, only letting him have a bite before dinner on his birthday.

Michael Myers: He wouldn’t think much of it, he’s not too big on baked goods, no matter what it is, if it’s cupcakes, cake, whatever it is, he doesn’t care for it, but chocolate is Michaels kryptonite. He’d help you decorate the cakes and cookies you’d bake, usually just plastered a ton of red frosting across the desert. “Close enough” You’d think to yourself, simply happy that Michael is participating.. 

Tiffany Valentine: Completely enamored with it, loves everything to do with it. She could never do it right, no matter the different recipes or instruction manuals. Tiffany was still more than excited to participate, drawing little bats on the cookies with black frosting, making little ghosts on the cupcakes with black and white frosting. Her favorite part would be adding the sprinkles. Lots of laughing and giggling, this is just a wholesome moment for her and she feels overwhelmingly lucky that at least one of you can bake.

Billy Loomis: He wants no part of it, never was a baker and he sure as hell isn’t going to start today. Billy will stand in the kitchen, watching you do all the hard work, telling you “well I never asked you to make us any cupcakes babe” Dipping a finger into the icing and licking it off, Billy is such a pain in the ass for you, but he looked so cute as he was a pain. Watching you mix the ingredients, read the book and follow it as you pleased. Not even the decorating did Billy want to get involved in, hopefully you know how to do most of it on your own.

Stu Macher: Completely hands on “What do we do next” Will for sure overbake the cookies or brownies. He kind of clumsily follows what you say, sometimes adding too much or not enough. It’s like cooking with an actual five year old. At some point you just realize, maybe the actual baking process would just enlist you to do the actual work and just have Stu give you the utensils. Come decorating, he would let loose and do whatever he wants and surely Stu does get very creative with his Halloween designs.

Patrick Bateman: Doesn’t care for any sweets, if anything he despises them. He’s never liked anything sweet, Patrick thinks it’s bad for his body and says his taste buds refuses them. He doesn’t even like the smell, but if you insist he’d let you, just as long as you clean up after and leave the kitchen from smelling like a bakery. Patrick does like the designs you make though, he’d look at them through the container, telling you that you did a good job.

Leatherface: LOVES baking time, never really had any sweets or chocolate growing up. Bubba only tried it a few times in his childhood and he could never forget the taste, sometimes it’d fade away into his bittersweet memories but your at home bakery brings it right back. He is so involved in your activities, such a hands on s/o. Bubba would try anything and everything that you’d make, he’d mix the batter while you prep the oven, following every instruction you give him to a T. Not to mention his favorite part and everyone’s, the decorating. He’d make all sorts of creations, often running out of space in his cupcake, sometimes getting frustrated that it’s not coming out the way he wanted. Rest assured, all of it is still edible.

Harley Quinn: Also loves baking time, she knows how to make the best brownies, warm with chewy chocolate chips. She’d sit on the table crisscross while she mixes the batter, swiping a few tastes of the cookie dough if there’s any beforehand. Lots of silly faces and unfortunately, lots of messes. Somehow it would turn into a mini food fight as well, Harley’s childish at times, what can I say you bring out the best in her. She’s quite the artist too when it comes to decorating, always making the best ghosts and bats across the plain cookies. Harley takes baking quite seriously at times and will definitely be up to a contest to who could make the best most creative creation.

Poison Ivy: Not a huge fan of baking, but would enjoy some dark chocolate brownies every now and then. She would be interested in decorating your creations though, she finds it therapeutic. There would be times though, where you’d get the recipe wrong, or overcook it and Pamela would have to step in. You’d watch her as she would gracefully blend the mixtures and let them sink across the baking pan. She’d kiss your forehead, not minding the extra work. It’s actually kind of comforting. Pamela’s favorite creation of course, would be the pumpkin shaped cookie.

Bruce Wayne: Surprisingly loves it, it’s one of the things that makes him feel like his house is finally a home with you. He’d walk in on you early, smelling the sweet scent of cookies, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a tender kiss on your cheek. Bruce is more than happy with whatever you make, more in love with you by the second. Believe it or not he’s not the best at decorating the cupcakes or cookies, not when the designs at least but it’s the thought that counts.

Jason Todd: Kind of similar to Bruce, seeing you do any kind of housework around the house melts his heart. While baking isn’t particularly “housework” the fact that you would try to surprise him with Halloween cookies after a mission means the world to him. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, to the point where he’d be in the way, happily watching you get flustered and then annoyed. Lots of kisses, on your nose, neck and forehead.

Billy Hargrove: He does not know what to do at all and in all honesty, he won’t admit it but he is kind of scared of ruining anything. Billy loves you and he knows how much love you put into your cooking/baking, how time consuming it could be and the last thing he would want to do is ruin it for you. Sometimes it could come off like he’s uninterested and it’ll leave you in blues, but once you talk about it. Billy is more than happy to help you clean after, keep you company as you did all the baking. Not to mention, he’d be the best taste tester.

Steve Harrington: He’s actually super into it, he’s the first one up to take to you to the store to get all the baking supplies, carrying the basket for you and watching you pick the ingredients, making decisions with you. I’ll take the liberty to say Steve would be one of the most involved on this list to actually make any sort of Halloween goodies with you. There would be a few times you’d forget a certain item, or completely undermeasure what you bought and he wouldn’t mind going back for you to get it. He’d make little weird aliens and odd monsters with icing on the bare breads that would come out of the oven, taking pictures of them next to yours and keeping them in a little booklet of you both.

Steve Rogers: Kind of enamored with the wholesome idea of you baking for Halloween instead of giving out so much candy or buying the cupcakes at the store. He’s such a hands on boyfriend and it shows. Little did you know he has a few tricks up his sleeve as well, teaching you how to keep the cookies from overcooking, or the brownies from sticking onto the pan. Cute little kisses every now and then while your creation bakes. He’d let you take the lead in decorating, he much rather watch you be excited about the fun part, he cherishes these moments more than anything. Not to mention, he’d help you bring your goodies to the team “Avengers, Y/N took the liberty of making you all a treat, for all your hard work this week.” He’d let you give them out as he’d hold the basket before them, staring to you proudly.

Bucky Barnes: Kind of like Steve, he’d gladly participate in whatever you wanted to do for Halloween. Helping you with the mixing, read the recipe book, pick out the products at the store. Bucky would sit you on the island of the kitchen while he’d mix the now-pasty dough. Lots of small kisses, also in love with the idea of doing something so wholesome that reminded him of his good times. He’d sometimes tell you stories about his family and what they would do, what Halloween was like back in the day. Not too big on decorating, he rather just add the faces onto the cookies if you insisted on him participating.

Wanda Maximoff: This is her specialty, it would be therapeutic for her, so if you mention you wanted to bake something for the team, she is all up for it. Your dining room table would be littered with different fall themed snacks and flavors, all ready to be decorated and either eaten or sent away for others to enjoy. Wanda would love to bake a little bit of everything with you, involving herself in the decorating as well. Everything would look straight out of a professional bakery, some would even offer to buy them off of you, but instead you’d give them away. To anyone who wanted or seemed like they needed something sweet. Needless to say, this would be one of her favorite Halloween activities with you.

Loki Laufeyson: At first he doesn’t seem so interested, but after he sees you’re determined to make at least a dozen cookies and a dozen brownies, all fresh, warm and full of love for the team, he seems interested. Loki would watch you from afar, seeing you struggle with mixing the batter, getting tired and taking small breaks between. Of course this would be Loki’s best opportunity to ascend from the shadows towards you. “Let me have it dear.” He’d instruct as you surrendered the bowl to him in defeat. A few more minutes and you would’ve added literal tears into the mixture. Though he doesn’t want to admit it, Loki does enjoy these silly little activities with you.

Cloud Strife: King of “no idea what I’m doing” But always tries to have a good attitude about it. He helps you with all the heavy stuff, or more like the physical part of this activity. But then literally just waits for your next command, not really knowing what to do after. While everything waits in the oven, Cloud kind of just stands there waiting for it to inflate before his eyes, crushing down on a hard blush when you’d try to kiss his cheeks whispering small “Thank you’s” and other little praises. He’d help you give them out on Halloween night, keeping an emotionless expression, mostly kind of humiliated, but not enough to hide from it. Whatever makes you happy.

Aerith Gainsborough: LOVES this idea, she’s super excited and the minute you mention it, Aerith is grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to get the ingredients. She wants the cookies in her hands now. Her favorite part its watching the cookies inflate in the over and decorating them with cute little ghost figures and pumpkins. She’d get icing on your cheek and nose periodically, laughing away as you scrunch your nose. Aerith would love to have you try what she’s baking, asking for your opinion, if it’s too much, too little, or even trying to get you to guess what she added to this batch.

Sebastian Michaelis: Ok come on. He knows how to make everything and anything and if he doesn’t, he’ll learn. Sebastian would make more complicated dishes, showing off a little to much in competition to your simple brownies. That doesn’t mean he won’t teach you though, maybe then you’d be able to help him when the young master would want a treat. Sebastian wouldn’t condemn you to do his job anyway, but if you wanted to have a little bit of wholesome fun on Halloween, Sebastian would be the best to go to in this area. Your baked goods would be created to perfection.

Spencer Reid: Sooo messy, the kitchen is a mess, there’s batter on the floor, the spoon must’ve fell like three times. Spencer has icing in his hair, no idea how, you haven’t even opened the darn thing yet, you have food coloring all over your fingertips and there’s so much laughter coming from both of you. “Wait no it says two tablespoons Spence, not teaspoons” Then a groan would come out of Spencer as he lets the bowl splat back down onto the counter. A snort would come out of you to see his cute frustration. “Come on genius, Halloween’s tomorrow and we have to get these out for the team, let’s hustle. Go! go! go!” You’d scold him into mixing faster to keep up with you.

[tetsunabouquet]

Hey! How are you? :) I have a very specific scenario lmao bear with me. I work as a Disney princess (Aurora, sleeping beauty) in my local themepark, I spend time with children, answer any questions if they have any, read them book, sing my songs. If there is a birthday party in correlation with Disney I get invited and stuff. I was wondering if you could write how gom's would react to an s/o with a job like this, their reaction with the s/o spending too much time with the assigned prince actors and stuff. This is so horribly cringe omg but I love your writing and wanna see how you demonstrate this! Thanks for reading :)

A/N: Again, than you so much for this request, I cannot express how much I loved writing this.

Akashi

-Considering he has two personalities, it obviously depends on the personality how he reacts to it. -Original Akashi actually is pleasantly surprised and quite interested. I think he really digs a s/o that is wonderful with children. -He is amazed at the way you can remain calm and cheerful even when the kids are acting like complete brats. -Honestly just seeing you on the job is enough to convince Akashi you are marriage material. Your ability to play a role, your warmth that never seems to waver despite how bad some of the kids can be sometimes, it convinces him you are the perfect wife for the Akashi household and as warm as a mother as his own was. -Which is why he actually likes watching you on the job. -He isn't envious of the actors who come and play your prince in a possessive kind of manner, but he always wonders what it would be like to play the part of Prince himself. He often likes to imagine himself playing the part, and sweeping you off your feet in front of the kids. -As for Akashi's emperor persona on the other hand, things are naturally different. -For one, this one can be quite clingy and possessive and he has threatened the life of the prince actors at least once per person. -He's not afraid to make a brat cry so honestly one should tell him to stay away. -But no one ever does, because they know Akashi won't listen. -However, this version of Akashi is the likeliest out of everyone to force your boss to pay you well, and your boss honestly worships you afterwards as your boss feels like the only reason their family is still alive is your grace.

Kise

-At first, he doesn't knows wether he should be happy you are the center of attention for once, or wether he should feel envious he's not everyone's sun at the moment. -Kise actually is wonderful with the kids and gets along great with them. You muse it must be his childish side and his ability to be friendly and charming. -Kise, as a model, does have a little understanding of what it is to be in the entertainment industry and the two of you often talk about your jobs and vision for the future together. -As a model, he isn't jealous of the prince actors either. He also has to do a shoot with female models sometimes, so he understands that its business. -Eventually, he actually gets curious and wants to try out as a prince actor himself, because he's good with kids and he honestly wants to see what its like sometimes. -He didn't last long though. His fangirls quickly got wind of it and booked him so many times for parties, that he had to quit.

Muraskibara

-Nobody was surprised about your job, after all, Murasakibara can be like a toddler himself so the fact you are trained to handle them honestly made his teammates think something along the lines of, 'So that's why she's so great with him'. -He honestly shouldn't be taken to visit you at your job because Murasakibara isn't afraid to go after the kids who steal his candy. His murderous look is enough to have any parent present fear for their kids. -Murasakibara doesn't really cares for the prince actors, but he's annoyed with how much time they and your job requires. He genuinely wants you to be around him 24/7. -However Murasakibara always tries to comfort you in his own ways when he notices you have had a rough day on the job. He can be a surprisingly good listener. -He has his own sweet but weird idea of being romantic. For one, whenever it is December he will buy Disney princess themed chocolate calendars because Aurora was on it.

Aomine

-Honestly his first reaction is some kind of flirtatious comment that should be categorized in the 'horrible pick-up line' section of flirting. You end up laughing at it and thinking he looks so cute when he gets redfaced. -Will not hold back his tongue when a brat is acting up, but if the kid bursts out in tears he gets so apologetic that you think he's only ever looked that sincere whenever he hurts you or Momoi. -He can actually be act like a friendly older brother to the good behaved kids, and you secretly think its the cutest thing ever. -Aomine gets quite jealous in regards to the prince actors. He will try to act nice enough when there are kids around, but if its just you hanging out with your co-workers, then he honestly wants to be there so he can keep an eye on the young men around you. -He's not afraid to throw punches at them if they ever dare to make a move on you. -But leave it to Momoi to have a plan to convince you Aomine is your one and only prince. You honestly could not believe him when he showed up on your doorstep in perfect cosplay, but you were enarmored with the gesture for sure.

Midorima

-Is totally flabbergasted when he learns about our job. Honestly, his reaction is the most comical. -Though he actually does expresses interest and always asks you how your day at work was. -Whilst Takao and Midorima occasionally visit you on the job, Midorima is too busy just appreciating how pretty you look to pay the prince actors some attention. As long as they are nice too you, Midorima is cool with it. -Midorima does worry they are underpaying you sometimes. -Because you have to be good with kids on the job, he actually dares to open up with you about his little sister and any fight or worries he has regarding her (he's too prideful to ask Takao for advice). -His sister adores your job more then he does, which is why he booked you and the other princesses at the park for her birthday. She was so happy seeing 'Nee-Chan' and everyone else dressed up like real princesses for her party and actually dressed up as a tiny Aurora herself to match you. Midorima honestly was melting at how cute the two of you were from a distance, where he took many and many photos.

[crazychaoticizzy]

French Girl

note: this is a birthday present for my friend I hope you enjoy &lt;3

The poor boy from France that you'd run into on the ship had caught your attention, and you can't help but ask him to portray you the way he sees you.

WARNINGS: Titanic AU kinda, Fem!reader, fluff, nudity, suggestive but not explicit

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist

AOT Masterlist

As you flip through the somewhat erotic sketches in the notebook you hold, you can't help but think about the hands that drew them.

The fact that being seen with him could completely ruin your reputation was the last thing on your mind as your fingers gently graze the edges of the pages, carefully admiring every detail in each drawing.

“You drew all these?” you ask, looking up at him.

Jean smiles, his eyes moving from your face to his notebook, and nods. “Yeah, all of ‘em.” His voice has an accent that yours doesn’t have, and you can’t decide if it’s because of the language he uses or something else. “Turns out lots o’ dancers in France are willin’ to drop their panties for me.”

Your jaw drops at his crude words, which makes Jean laugh. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees at he looks at his own drawings. The movement makes your kneecaps touch, and you find yourself subconsciously crossing your legs.

“Nah, m’just kidding. Well, mostly, anyway.” Another chuckle slips from his lips when he notices your slightly widened eyes. He gently grabs the notebook from your lap, flipping through the pages.

“Like this one,” he said, turning it to show you. It was a charcoal drawing of a woman and a man sitting at a table, the woman wearing an eyepatch and the man missing two fingers. “I approached ‘em in a pub one day and asked if I could draw them. The lady—well, they actually didn’t identify as a man or woman, they told me, but their name was Hange—seemed a lot more enthusiastic about it than Levi, the man. Anyway, they told me about their time in the military as I drew ‘em.”

You nod along to his words as you take the notebook back in your hands and admire the drawing. Even though your eyes are distracted you hold onto every word he says.

Upon further inspection, you notice the man’s right eye was white, barely a hint of an iris in the drawing.

“They both lost an eye while serving,” Jean continues, noticing how you seem to focus on that small detail. “Hange lost their’s completely, I’m pretty sure, and Levi went blind in his right.”

“I wonder what happened,” you softly muse.

Jean shrugged. “They didn’t really give details about their injuries, they really only told me about their dead comrades and training and such. Actually, their commander was someone I’ve drawn before—can I?”

You nod, handing him the notebook so he could flip through a couple more pages.

“They saw the drawing while I was looking for a clean page and asked about it. His name was Erwin Smith, and he was the thirteenth commander in their survey corps. Hange told me they were the fourteenth after him, and they passed it on to some blond boy named Armin before retiring. I think Armin is on this boat, actually.”

Jean turns the book back to you in the middle of his small rant, showing a blond man with thick eyebrows. You noticed that instead of a head shot like the other drawings, it was a full body portrait to show that he was missing his right arm.

“They spoke the world of him. It seemed like the three of them were incredibly close.”

Jean sounds sad talking about them, almost like he knew the ins and outs of their relationship personally. He might have, you suppose, because it seemed strangers spilled their hearts and souls to him during one single conversation.

“Are the first two a couple?” you ask.

Jean shrugs, handing you the notebook again so you can continue flipping through it. “Dunno. They seemed really close and like they trusted each other with everything they had, but never mentioned bein’ together.”

You nodded, flipping through more drawings. There were multiple of a young boy with dark hair and freckles throughout the journal, all dated very close to each other until you stopped seeing them. He must have been close to Jean, but you don’t ask about it since the last drawing of him was done years ago and seems unfinished.

“So, those French girls. Is there a reason they…” you paused, hesitating to repeat his earlier words. “You know.”

“Dropped their panties for me?” He smirks cheekily at you as you bite the inside of your cheek, nodding. “Nah, don’t think so. Though I do think they thought I would pay them back with something more erotic than what they got.”

“You drew a lot of dancers,” you comment as you flip through, noticing two or three drawings of naked women on each page.

“Jealous I’ve seen naked women before?” Jean teases, lightly nudging your knee with his.

Your lips tighten as you fight the urge to smile. “No, it was merely an observation.”

Jean laughs. “I was just teasin’. But they make for good anatomy practice. They can bend their body any way they want and stay for extended periods of time. They’re the perfect people to draw for practice.”

“And they have to be… bare?”

Jean shrugs. “Well it’s more difficult to draw bodies with all those bulky clothes they wear.”

You make an O shape with your mouth, unable to decide if he’s telling the truth or simply teasing you again.

It’s silent as you continue flipping through the pages, the soft ocean breeze being the only sound between you and Jean as he watches you.

You notice a black-haired woman appear multiple times throughout the notebook. She has short hair that frames her face perfectly, and there’s a mark just below one of her steel gray eyes.

“You liked this one,” you note, reading the small writing at the bottom of one of the pages. “Mikasa Ackerman. She’s very pretty.”

“What makes you say I liked her?” Jean asks.

“You drew her quite a lot.” Jean hums, but doesn’t say anything in response. “I believe there might have been something going on.”

You smile. You don’t turn to see, but you can feel Jean’s expression change as he continuously denies your claim.

“No, no, we were just friends. She was always at the dance studio when I went, so I was just always drawing her.” His cheeks are pink though, and when you turn to look at him he puts his hand over the bottom half of his face.

You hum condescendingly, turning back to the pages. “She was very pretty. I wouldn’t be surprised if at some point you developed feelings for her.”

“Yeah, she was.” Jean’s voice is soft, a whisper, almost. You keep your head down but glance at him, noting the way he fondly looks at the drawings.

“You did like her, didn’t you?” It’s not an accusation, and you don’t mean it to be. You make sure your voice is gentle when you say it, coaxing him to tell you more.

He’s still for a moment before he gives a single nod. “Yeah, I did.”

You can’t tell why his accent changes, but the way he said I sounded more like ah. You assume it might be due to him having been all over the world, and make a note to ask him about it another time.

“I eventually realized we would never happen. She was too high class for me.” Jean doesn’t sound sad about it, in fact he talks about it as if it’s a nostalgic memory for him.

“Just like I’m too high class for you?” The words slip from your mouth without thinking, and you immediately shut your mouth. But now that you’d said it, you realize that you’re right. You shouldn’t be seen with him. The blow that could do to your family, the rumors it could start. If the wrong person saw this it would be a one way ticket to poverty for your family.

Jean purses his lips. “Yeah. Jus’ like you.”

You softly nod, closing the notebook and handing it back to him. “Thank you for allowing me to see your artwork, Mister Kirstein.”

“It’s just Jean,” he said, grabbing his notebook and standing up with you. He tucks the leather bound book under his arm, bowing his head slightly. “Someone as posh and fancy as you shouldn’t be givin’ me titles like Mister.”

“Of course.” You gently bite the inside of your cheek, smoothing out your dress. “Well, I thank you anyway. And I suppose we shall see if we run into each other again on this boat.”

Jean gives one nod. “Maybe we will.”

You noticed that his responses were curt, and you took that as your cue to bow your head and walk away from him.

As you walked past a few people on your way back to your room, you noticed some giving you a glance, and you prayed to God that they wouldn’t let anything slip.

—

You giggled with Jean as you entered your room, closing and locking the door behind you after you made sure no one had seen you.

Apparently the wrong crowd had seen you two together when you were looking at his drawings. That had led to a lovely dinner with your family and fiancé which led to another series of events that had reconciled the two of you.

You remember being slightly buzzed when you asked if he could draw you, but he agreed nonetheless. He waited until there was no alcohol in your system and no one you knew was around before he asked if you still wanted him to draw you. You had nodded, following him to his cramped room before grabbing him by the hand and dragging him back to yours.

You weren’t exactly trying to be sneaky anymore, but you were still cautious of who was watching.

Jean stood in the center of your room in awe, mouth agape as he looked at the intricate wallpaper and fancy light fixtures and beautiful paintings leaning against couches.

“Is the lighting alright?” you asked, taking a step closer him him.

He hummed in question, closing his mouth and turning his head to you. “Oh, yes, yes. It’s fine. Perfect, actually, uhm…” He nodded once. “Yeah.”

You could tell he was nervous, but you weren’t sure why. It’s not like this was your first time alone together, and you certainly knew he had no problem sneaking around with you.

“Are you alright?”

He nodded again, averting his gaze to one of your paintings. “Is that Pixis?”

Your eyes followed as he stepped in the direction he was looking, noticing the mostly gray and red painting.

“Yes. You know him?” You stepped behind him, leaning over as he crouched down and softly touched the edge.

“I love his work. He was a Chief Official in the French army before he passed. He painted in his free time and most o’ his work depicts his time on the battlefield. There’s one he painted of giant beasts that he saw in his dreams.”

Jean’s eyes swept over the painting once more before he stood up, turning to you. “So, anything you want to be drawn by? Or with?”

It took you a moment to register what exactly he was asking about. You had been admiring his amazed expression, lost in the way his lips slightly curved while looking at your paintings.

You nodded. “Yes, give me just a moment and I’ll grab it.”

Jean nodded, softly scratching the back of his neck and looking around as you retreated to your sleeping quarters and opened the closet door.

You turned the dial on the safe to open it, retrieving the black box Eren had put in it at the beginning of the trip. You hesitated a moment, looking at the rock on your finger before taking it off and leaving it in the safe.

You returned to Jean, watching for just a moment as he admired another painting you had. Your approaching footsteps brought his attention to you, and when he turned he saw you opening the box.

You handed it to him, watching as he gingerly lifted the expensive necklace and looked at it in the light.

“This is a real nice necklace. Probably worth more than I am.” He softly laughed, glancing at you as he placed the box down on a side table. He lifted the necklace again, looking at it closely. “What is it, sapphire?”

“Diamond,” you replied, stepping closer to him. Your side pressed against his, and you felt him tense up slightly. “I want you to draw me wearing it.”

He briefly glanced at you again before looking back at the necklace. “Alright. Where?”

“Wearing only that.”

Jean paused, turning his head to look at you after the words left your mouth. He raised a brow, as if to ask if you were sure about your decision.

“I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. The dancers.”

You watched as the corner of his lips twitched, fighting the urge to smile. He placed the necklace back on top of the box, running a hand over his face. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He allowed his lips to curl into a charming smile as he gave you a once over before nodding. “Alright. What room?”

You gently grabbed his hand, leading him into the room next to yours and turning on the lights.

“Whatever pose you’d like,” you said. “Any lighting you’d like, as well. I only want you to draw me.”

He smiled down at you, handing you the necklace. “That I can do. Wanna undress here or should I wait?”

He softly laughed at your expression, gently patting your shoulder. “I’m only kiddin’. Go get ready while I set up.”

His hand traveled from your shoulder to your wrist, and he gently lifted your hand to his lips. He left a soft kiss on your knuckles, not breaking eye contact before he winked and walked further into the room.

While you undressed you heard something scraping around in the other room, stopping after a couple moments. You assumed Jean was moving around furniture and liked where he had placed it.

When you finished you slipped on a robe, tying it around the waist so it didn’t fall open before you wanted it to. You clasped the necklace around your neck, adjusting it so the large diamond sat in the middle.

When you walked back to the room Jean was sharpening a piece of charcoal. The fireplace had been lit, allowing an ethereal glow to outline him as he worked. You took a moment to admire him before he noticed you.

He softly smiled, his eyes sweeping over you as he stood straighter and put his blade down. You walked over to him, taking graceful steps.

“The last thing I need is another portrait where I look like a delicate flower. I want you to draw me as you see me, Jean.” You smiled at him, showing him the quarter held between your fingers. “And as a paying customer, I expect to receive what I ask for.”

Jean softly laughs as you place the quarter on the table. “And what if I see you as a delicate flower?”

“I know you don’t. Why do you think I asked you to draw me?” You watched him laugh in shock as you winked, taking a step back and seating yourself of the edge of the couch. "How should I pose myself?"

Jean looked you up and down, biting the inside of his cheek in thought. "Laying down," he said after a few moments.

You nodded, untying your robe and slipping it off your shoulders. You draped it on the arm of the sofa, turning your gaze toward Jean.

You watched as his eyes swept over you, trailing the edge of your shoulder as you laid back. He took you in for a moment, mouth slightly agape and eyes sparkling in awe.

He softly shook his head, bringing himself out of his trance as he gave you a once over again. "Life your arms above your head," he said, returning to that same thinking look you loved.

You did as he said, and when he stood from the chair and stepped forward to adjust your pose your breath softly hitched. You felt his warm hands along your arms, gently moving them to his will. You took a moment to admire his own face, the straight slope of his nose and the sharp line of his jaw. His lips looked soft, and you wondered for a moment what they might feel like against your skin.

He stepped back, crossing his arms as he assessed the pose he'd put you in before nodding to himself and sitting back down.

"Alright, don't move," he softly said. You nodded, which made him softly chuckle. "I said don't move."

"Well that was hardly moving," you replied, but a smile spread across your lips anyway.

You watched as he picked up a piece of charcoal and began drawing soft lines across the sheet of parchment. You watched the way his eyes followed the pencil, flicking between you and the drawing. The light coming from the fireplace made his irises glow, making them a beautiful honey color.

You watch as his long and elegant fingers move across the page, eventually staining themselves with the dark charcoal. You remember the many times he had lightly touched you, lingering for longer than he needed to. You remember how warm his hands were, and when you tried hard enough you could imagine they were on you again.

You're not sure who starts the conversation, but most of the time he draws is spent talking. The two of you exchange life stories. You tell him about your upbringing and the people you knew as a child and teenager and he tells you about his.

The entire conversation put into perspective how different the worlds you came from are, but you can't help but think that you were meant to find each other.

He stands when he finished, grabbing your robe from where it was draped and handing it to you. He only shows you the portrait once the robe is tied around you once again.

He's signing and dating it when you come up behind him, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder. You softly smile at it when he puts his drawing materials down, turning your head to leave a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," you say.

He turns, your faces barely touching as he gazes into your eyes. "You're welcome."

He leans forward, leaving a quick, chaste peck on your lips.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! she doesn't have a tumblr account but she is amazing and I wish her the happiest year yet

also, should I make this into an au? idk I kinda liked it

anyways I hope you all enjoyed. as always likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated so please do that!

-Izzy <3

TAGGING: if you'd like to be notified whenever I write for Jean please comment or DM!

[lyculuscaelus]

Our Story (Fanfic)

Chapter 1 Promises

“Now, sing O Muses, of that brave boy Odysseïdes, Sparta has he visit'd, Pylos twice, with Athena the wise queen…”

“Stop it,” Telemachus giggled. “You’re acting like your father.”

“No, I’m not,” said Peisistratus. “You’re acting like your father.”

“No, I’m not,” said Telemachus. “Unlike him, I don’t have many deeds to brag about.”

“Doesn’t sailing for the first time count?” Peisistratus insisted. “And if you don’t like this song I can always make a new one for you.”

“No thanks, Peisis,” Telemachus said. “At least, leave it till my birthday.”

“That I can arrange,” Peisistratus replied, seriously.

And they locked their gazes for a long time, until Telemachus finally burst out laughing. Soon Peisistratus joined him, and their laughter quickly flooded the entire palace. It died down eventually, as the two young men slowly calmed down. Then Peisistratus started:

“I’m so glad you’re here, Tele. Had it been another usual day, I’d be hunting with my brothers in the fields. Not that I don’t like hunting, it’s just that I’ve so many things to talk about and my brothers always find them either boring or childish. You might be the only one I could chat with. Ah, I wish you could visit Pylos more often.”

“Yeah,” Telemachus nodded. “It feels like such a long time since we last met…has it been two years already?”

“One whole year plus nine months, to be exact.”

“Right, I’m not gonna doubt you. After all, you’re better with this than I am.”

“That’s about the time since your father returned home, yep.”

“Before he set out again, you mean.”

“He set out again? About when?”

Telemachus sighed. “About one year and eight months ago. Said it was something concerning a prophecy someone named Teiresias told him—”

“Teiresias? The Teiresias? But isn’t he already dead?”

“Yep. My father had visited the Underworld, literally.”

Peisistratus gasped. “What—Oh my, that was some nostos your father had. Anyway has he met any great hero there? Like Theseus? Or Heracles? Or even my brother Antilochus?”

“He saw your brother there alright,” said Telemachus. “And Heracles, who even talked to him…”

“That’s so sick!” Peisistratus exclaimed. “I wonder if we’ll be having an adventure like this in the future, say, just you and me, maybe plus someone else, I don’t know.”

“You know what? It would be great!” Telemachus blinked his eyes excitedly. Why have I never thought about it before? Hanging out with my friends? It’s such a great idea! And father is going to be proud of us…

proud…

He’s going to be proud, isn’t he?

Telemachus wasn’t so sure. He remembered basically everything in that day, when his father again departed from Ithaca, this time to somewhere unknown even to himself. He remembered that it was a sunny day, that the chanting of birds was glorious, that the sweet scent of olives was mesmerizing, that the airy dance of cloud was elegant. These he remembered well, but most vividly he could recall that very scene, that very conversation—

“Father, I want to come along,” he had said. “I want to be with you wherever you go, so we can at least share some thrills and fun together.”

“No, Tele,” his father had answered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t bring you on board, not this time.”

“Why?” He had been so confused. “But I’ve always wanted to explore the worlds outside Ithaca, to see the giant oak in Dodona, the reputable land of Calydon, the seven gates of the famous Cadmea…I want to have an adventure, father. Just like you did.”

He remembered that look well. That look his father had gave him, those eyes with such agony, such sadness. Is it panic, panicking at the thought of his son following him down the miserable path that was meant for his own to take? Is it fear, fearing for the life and sanity of his son? Or is it sorrow, sorrowful over the naïve and innocent spirit of his 20-year-old son? Or is it pain, painful about the fact that he doesn’t even qualify as being a father, who never had the chance to see his son through the childhood, and hadn’t gotten to know this brave young man his son has become, before his fate was calling him to sail out again?

For a long time both of them didn’t speak, and the look was growing wearier and wearier and…it seemed as if another decade had passed inside his father’s mind, another decade filled with tribulations and torments. Telemachus couldn’t help but feel his regret. Regret that he ever said those words, regret that he wasn’t with his father when he needed him. The hands. He could feel his father’s hands gripping his shoulders tightly. But finally his father had lower the head, and sighed heavily. In a low voice, Odysseus had begun. “Tele, you have to understand. This cruel world is not as entertaining as it may seem, or sound in those tales. It’s dangerous out there, filled with monsters, storms, ruthless gods, and…and things that can go beyond your very imagination. Things that are so terrible, so overwhelming…”

He hadn’t finished the sentence, instead he was choked with sobs, and Telemachus had felt so guilty, and so helpless. But he had tried his best to withhold his tears, and had started to comfort his father. “Then I’ll face them bravely, father, like you would do. Like a true son of Odysseus would do.” Telemachus had put up with a smile. “As a true Odysseïdes.”

“Oh Tele…” Odysseus had moaned with tears. “Oh…for ten years I haven’t seen your face, in one month I haven’t gotten to know you better, but look, what an undaunted man you have become, when I’m away!” Finally, he had cracked into a smile. “Yes, that’s my boy!” He had said with sincere happiness, though the pain was still present in his voice. But at least, Odysseus had smiled.

And Telemachus had exhaled with relief.

“Father,” he had continued. “I wouldn’t insist if you really don’t want me along, but I need to know where you’re going, what you’re going to do, and how long I should wait for your return. Could you please tell me, just for mom’s sake and mine?”

And Odysseus had nodded. “Don’t worry about your mother, Telemachus. Penelope knows about this, and you have every right to know it as well.” He had stopped, and looked towards the western sky. As Telemachus followed his gaze, Odysseus continued. “Do you remember the story I’ve told you, about that prophet Teiresias in the Underworld? I had asked him about my fate, and he had answered:

‘…When someone else runs into you and says you've got a shovel used for winnowing on your broad shoulders, then fix that fine oar in the ground there, and make rich sacrifice to lord Poseidon with a ram, a bull, and a boar that breeds with sows. Then leave. Go home, and there make sacred offerings to the immortal gods…’

“So you see, Telemachus, I don’t know where I’ll go to, but I know what I’ll find. It may be a long voyage, or it may be short. Who knows? But I’m going anyway, because I am Laërtiades, son of the honorable Laërtes—one of the legendary Argonauts.”

“I see,” Telemachus had said. “The blood of dauntlessness runs deep in our family.”

“Precisely.” Odysseus had laughed proudly. “You, my son, will also share this honor, in the future perhaps, when you take on a journey of your own, and build your fame with your own feats. But today, the journey is mine to undertake, and with the blessing of the prophet, I’m very certain that I will make it home again.”

“Okay.” With a serious face, Telemachus had nodded. “Then I’ll try not to surpass you.”

They were both grinning when an owl started to whoop from the forest.

“Wait, dad,” Telemachus had suddenly called. “If not this time, then when?”

Odysseus had given him a slight smile. “When I return, son, I shall take you to Dodona, where the oaks are august; then we’ll visit Calydon, where twenty two heroes had once gathered to slay that giant boar; then we shall go to Thebes, where twice had the Argives waged war against, one of them being the father of a king whom I have befriended; and then,” Odysseus had patted Telemachus’s right shoulder. “Then I will bring you to Pylos again. And know that I won’t be gone for long. This is a promise.”

“Swear it on the river of Styx?”

“I swear it, on the river of Styx.”

Gradually, Telemachus had returned the smile. “Thank you, dad.” He had said, voice cracked with the bittersweet taste in his throat. “Thank you so much.”

He remembered the hug, the kiss, and the departure of his father clearly. He remembered how often he had doubted that whether his father would ever make it back again. He remembered that worried look of his mother, who had often stood by the shores of Ithaca, waiting, waiting. But he also remembered, that Odysseus had made a promise.

And here they were, in Pylos again, weren’t they?

And it only took him eight months, didn’t it?

So, there’s nothing to worry about. After all, there’s nothing that can waver the resolve of Odysseus’s homecoming. And thus he shall always return. Always.

All because of his love, and his promise.

Telemachus nodded to this fact. Love, and promise. That’s what my father was proud of. And if I have found the courage to love, to make a promise, then will Odysseus be proud of me, even with the knowledge that I may travel afar, likely into an ocean of danger, and a sea of trouble?

Then will we get to have our adventure, and get back safely? Will we get to tell our tales, and make our own story?

So to Peisistratus he said these words, with all his heart:

“And I’m sure we will. Of this I give you my promise.”

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: afab!Reader Character: Shanks Kink: #13 Sensory deprivation Prompt: #13 "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Gift Giver: @stargirldelight

Summary: A little sensory deprivation takes more than just your sense of sight, and you're surprised how much you relied on your sense of smell.

Content Notes: oral received, vaginal fingering, sight deprivation, scent deprivation, teasing, standing orgasm.

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

The strange mask Shanks had put on you was keeping you from seeing anything, and from smelling anything. You hadn’t been certain what depriving your sense of smell was going to do to you, but the answer was, a lot.

Shanks had snuck up on you so completely that when his hand rested on your hip you nearly screeched. It wasn’t even that he had caught you off guard, it was that the familiar touch had an air of strangeness to it.

Subconsciously, you had always picked up on his scent, and without that input you’d been certain someone had snuck into your otherwise safe space. You held onto Shanks as he held onto you in return, talking into your ear softly.

“It’s okay, it’s just me.” He says reassuringly. “You poor thing, you sounded legitimately scared.”

“I didn’t realize,” you admit, still trying to calm your heart. Shanks’ hand against your body was calming, but there was an almost constant sense of it being someone else’s. “Haaa, I didn’t think it would make such a difference.”

“You need to take it off, babe?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, I j-just need you to keep talking to me, please.”

“Sensory deprivation to sensory overload, huh?” He muses, and you feel the scruff of his facial hair against your neck as he leaves soft kisses on your skin. His steady hand moves over your body, avoiding the most sensitive places for now.

He’s more focused on getting you used to the feel of him with your senses blocked.

“There we go,” he hums, feeling your body starting to relax. He doesn’t let you lose track of him, even for a second, moving around and handling you so sweetly. “Now that you’re relaxed, I can begin to tease you properly.”

You can hear the mischief in his voice, and it sends a pleasant shiver along your skin. Shanks brings your hands up, one after the other, and wraps them around a decorative pole. You recognize it as one of the posts on the bed, and use it to keep yourself steady as his hand begins to wander over you in earnest.

“Don’t let go of that.” He instructs. “Spread your legs for me too, ah-!” You spread your legs and stick your ass out toward him, eliciting a pleased hum from him. “Look at you, teasing me.”

His hand presses into your thigh, running up against your skin and making your body tremble. Calloused hands reached the curve of your ass and his hand left you for the first time since the evening had started. It didn’t leave you for long, a sharp smack against your ass sent a shiver through your body and tore a surprised gasp from your lips.

You stayed in your position, shifting your hips a little to one side to tease him a bit. You heard the soft grunted laugh, and just after his hand came down on your other ass cheek. The sharp sting was less surprising – you’d literally been asking for it – and the lingering tingle of pleasure pulled a soft, pleased moan up into your throat.

You can feel him moving around you, and a moment later you can feel his breath between your thighs. He shifts more and you can feel the warmth of his shoulders against the front of your thighs. His hand steadying the backside of your thigh as he kisses the inside.

“Sh-Shanks!” You gasp, barely managing to keep a hold of the bedpost.

“Hold onto the post, love, and don’t worry,” he leans forward, kissing up the inside of your thigh, your legs spreading a little further to help him reach his destination. “I’ll take care of you.”

Shanks’ hand grabs your ass, holding your slit against his mouth firmly even as you squirmed from the initial sensation. You’re holding onto the bed post like it’s a life raft at this point, body shivering as his tongue pushes against your clit.

You can hear him, you can picture what he must look like, sitting on the floor, face between your legs, even if you can’t see him right now. Those eyes watching every twitch and shiver, analyzing everything you do and adjusting accordingly.

You could blindfold him, and you were certain he’d still drink in everything he needed to know to bring you to the brink.

He puts one of your legs over his shoulder, shifting you enough to push his tongue inside your pussy, his nose against your clit. Your addled mind wasn’t even sure how he was breathing as he devoured you, his thick, wet tongue practically coiling inside you. All you could do was hold on as the pleasure continued to build.

You leaned into him, leaned into the pole. Both of your legs shook as the pleasure continued to build. His fingers pushed into your sopping cunt as he shifted again, and you heard him breathe in deeply before he began to suck and lick your clit, fingers pushing deeper.

“Just like that,” he praises you, somehow managing to steady you and fuck you with the same hand. “Let me hear that sweet voice as you cum.”

He wasn’t going fast. He never seemed to be in a rush, but he knew exactly what to do. How to make your heart race before he even began, how to soothe you without letting you actually calm down. He knew how to use his tongue in so many ways it almost made you angry, but that anger did nothing but enhance the feelings between your thighs.

“Shaaaaanks, Shanks, please.” You gasp. Your arms are trembling, your legs might hold up, but you can’t keep holding onto the bed post. “L-Let me tah-touch you.” You gasp, arms squirming as the tip of his tongue flicks over your clit.

“Please do,” he responds, diving back between your thighs, pushing a third finger into your vagina. The lewd wet sound nearly makes you cum as your arms drop from the bed post. Your fingers tangle into his hair roughly, and the grunt tears through your core.

The pleased hum that follows has a heavier effect on you and the orgasm crashes into you. It’s by his will that you manage to stay upright, crying, squirming, and twitching as your toes curl and he manages to hold you against his face.

He guides you down carefully as you come down from your first orgasm. Your shaking legs are on either side of his waist, your shivering arms are wrapped around his shoulders.

“See? Just like that.” He assures you.

[angelfoodcake222]

I'm back on my LMK x Hurt!Reader kick!!! Yippee!

"How would these characters react to their friend or S/O, Y/N, coming home after a big fight that made them temporarily forget about a prescheduled meet-up at their (Y/N's) place?" &/or something to that effect. Here's what I have for Mei, Pigsy, Tang, & Sandy.

TW: The reader [that's you] gets into a big fight. Mentions of combat, blood, violence, & bandaging/suturing (like that big, curved needle & all that). Comfort at the end of each.

A/N (Author's Note): I'm labeling this as NSFW as it is dealing with violent elements. I'll make a traditional NSFW version if this one gets some traction via likes & comments. Since there is often a lot to read in one sitting, I'll sever this up to a select few for now. even with the splitting, it is still a fair bit to read. On with the reading, enjoy.

🐉Mei Dragon

>She was so excited about some one-on-one time with you, finally!

>She had set things up to the nines for you; favorite snacks, drinks, fast-paced racing games & movies, karaoke, you name it.

>She was in her cozy PJs, snug on a mound of pillows & blankets that looked like a dragon lover's dream collection (she contributed a few things as you asked her to let you do you, "earn them yourself" as you put it).

>She agreed so long as she got to gift you some things on special yearly occasions; birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, etc. You can bet your bottom dollar that each & every single gift she got you fits you to a T. To the point where it's nearly uncanny that you'd gotten used to it quicker than you thought you would.

>Just as she reclined to stretch out on the cozy hill she heard the door to your apartment swing open against the dense drywall followed by a hard thud generously seasoned with curses in your voice.

>She felt a pit in her stomach, suddenly forgetting her want to stretch, slipping & sliding in her plushie dragon slippers to the source of the pained grunts to find you on the linoleum part of your doorstep.

>Your torn, tattered shirt did little to stop your essence from oozing onto the generic tile below you that acted as a mini-mudroom of sorts. Your jeans shared the same fate with your shoes soaked like the floor mixed with once-stagnant water.

>Mei was seething at the damage to your body & your favorite wardrobe choices as they were gifts from her, gifts you had been maintaining near-religiously.

>You loved those threads, too. You even scrounged to buy her a matching set that was safe in her room at her family's home.

>"Who did this to you, bestie!?" "Gimme a name, a face, license plate, I'll teach 'em to mess with you!"

>Your low chuckle surprises her until she spots the dark markings on your knuckles & knees. You fought back, brutally from what she could tell, too.

>"Don't worry, Mei Mei, I handled them well enough. They won't be giving me any more trouble anytime soon. Mind helping me to the bathroom to patch up?"

>Your smile is crimson, gums ooze, but you move your tongue over your side-front teeth as if to free something from between them. Had you taken a bite out of one of your attackers? Probably.

>That's a question for later.

>As you asked, she aided you to the bathroom. All the moving & stretching caused by said movements began releasing more of your life's essence, staining the wood-themed vinyl as you both shuffled to the small bathroom where you had stashed a massive first aid kit in. The kind medics would pack with them.

>Your hand shuffled through the open kit once you were seated on the closed toilet's top as Mei fidgeted in the doorway a mere three feet from you.

>"Those are some deep wounds..." She mused aloud, cringing when you pulled a suture needle out, its curved sturdy form shining in the dim light overhead.

>"That's why I got this." You spy her flinch in your periphery.

>"It's okay if you don't want to be present for this part, Mei Mei. You can step out if you'd like." She frowns pitifully.

>She wants to be there for you to help with your injuries. Holding the kit open for your convenience at the very least, but she just felt so uncomfortable around needles of nearly any kind. She doesn't know why & you never pressed for a reason.

>Once you calm her down, she agrees to step out & close the door dejectedly behind her.

>She nearly slipped on some drops of red that pooled under your foot when she was fighting with the weirdly shaped door handle.

>That's dangerous! You could slip & reopen your freshly stitched wounds! Not on her watch!

>Your robe, a usually soft & comfortable garb, felt different from your hides as you carefully tied it. The soft fabric snagged on the fresh stitches & raw wounds that simply needed to be cleaned. You would have bandaged them to hasten the healing process, but you had forgotten to restock that aspect in your arsenal of medical aids.

>Honestly, you blame the treats you passed by & began ogling on an empty stomach on your way to the pharmacy.

>Aching & fatigued, you limp to the door but stop at the smell of cleaning products.

>She had cleaned the whole apartment in the time it took you to join your severed skins back together. She was walking out with an emptied bucket adorned with an old rag & other scrubbing tools.

>A soft tilt of your head was all the "Thank You" she needed.

>You helped put the supplies away & together you both eased into the mound to enjoy the setup Mei had made up for you.

>Soon enough, your eyes drifted down seemingly with gravity hauling your lids over your eyes.

>Slumber came swiftly.

>While you rested, Mei paused her half of the game your character would have nearly crashed in if she hadn't put her avatar between yours & the obstacle right as she paused.

>With as light of a touch as she could muster, she pulls the fluffiest blanket over you to tuck you in. Good & cozy.

>With that, she began her research.

>She had faith & trust in your brawling abilities, she promises she does & you believe her, but she just couldn't let this go without having some tabs on whoever hurt you. Just to be safe.

>As much as she hates to admit it, she was happy to be able to see the imprint of one jerk's insignia ring that was left on your forehead.

>Tracking that scumbag & his buddies shouldn't take much time at all...

🐷 Pigsy

>He sat patiently in your kitchen, watching the pot's lid rattle with trapped steam as the dumplings cooked.

>You had both agreed to watch the Chang'e Cooking marathon you had both been excited to watch for over three months now.

>It took a little time to convince him, but he agreed on the condition that you cooked together while watching the countdown to the marathon's start.

>You agreed.

>Unlike the others who set up mountains of fabrics & pillows galore, he set up something simple: a couple of blankets, some pillows, healthy little snacks to follow the meal you were both going to make, that's it.

>He had stood up to check the noodles & dumplings when you staggered in, once-bagged groceries cradled in a gifted/found basket under your less bandaged arm before noticing your friend standing in your open kitchen.

>You thought back quickly to that scene in the park half an hour ago leading to your home, when some punks were picking on some unfortunate granny & her friends.

>How could you just walk away & turn a blind eye to such an attrocious act of disrespect & inhumanity!?

>The battle was gruesome, to put it lightly, but the Granny Squad managed to ban together & help you.

>One of the ladies gifted you her recently emptied sweets basket & head scarf to hold everything together after helping you wash the goods off with a nearby hose. Once that was taken care of, they focused on you & on as much as they could help you with (which was quite a lot).

>With cleaned ingredients in your arms, you thank the ladies fervently & dash off to put the items into proper storage.

>"Aw, noodles! The marathon!" You grit through blood-stained teeth as Pigsy blinks.

>He looks like he's stuck between shocked, confused, worried & upset.

>The countdown showed that there were still a couple hours left before the show started, so you looked to the boar in your kitchen sheepishly before shifting the tucked container to holding the covered basket of goods.

"Sorry about the ingredients, I tried to clean them as best as I could..."

>You tried to explain before he shook his head.

>Carefully, without causing any extra discomfort for you, he took the ingrediants & set them onto the countertop.

>One thing you've learned about your friend in the past few years of knowing him is that he may act all big & menacing, but he's arguably the sweetest guy you've known (Right by Tang & MK, of course).

>You thank him & scurry to your bathroom to properly clean up & bandage yourself with the added maintanance of your teeth so you could properly enjoy the meal undoubtedly leading to a taste sensation.

>When you step out to the living room, you're treated to Pigsy setting the last tray of food onto the coffee/tea table with a low grunt.

>For the remaining hour you two sat on the sofa, he bandaged the spots you couldn't reach for one reason or another, shared the dumplings & snacks, & conversed over your favorite Chang'e recipes, all drizzled with him telling you to be more careful on your way home from now on.

>With the finished meals' plates & utenciles cleaned of food & settled into the deep kitchen sink, you all bandaged up, the pair of you slouch into the couch, watching the last few minutes of the countdown tick by in comfortable silence.

"Hey, Pigsy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything."

"No problem, Y/N."

>With that, the marathon began & was theroughly enjoyed.

👨🏻‍🏫 Tang

>You wanted to understand JTTW in-depth, you truly did, but your brain wouldn't let you. Tang to the rescue... Sort of.

>Name the type of Monkey King media available to the public & then some & you've barely scratched the surface of what Tang packed to your appartment with a little help from MK who had to leave for FFM.

>He hadn't done anything to set up your living room in any sort of special way aside from the merchandise & historical items.

>Okay, he got some Pigsy's take out to nibble on throughout the session.

>He even remembered your favorites!

>He just set the last "historically acurate" figurine & its stand onto the coffee/tea table when you groaned through your front door.

>You had stopped by a local supply shop for an ample amount of note taking material, just knowing how Tang was going to get once he got really into his favorite work & figure.

>Simple, mundane, task.

>Notebooks of favored rule (college rule or Wide rule, dotted & gridded paper is also an option), colored pens/pencils of your choosing, Monkey King stickers for Tang ranging from plain to shiny to puffy as a 'thank you' coupled with a Mankey Cop cap to wear whenever he pleased, & some drinks to go with the food he most likely sweet-talked out of Pigsy.

>You were nearly half way home when some ruffians jumped you to snatch the selectively academic & fandom items from you.

>They were most likely trying to steal your large totebag (labeled with "bookworm" in cutesy stenciled characters you had done with MK not too long ago) for the items within it to price gouge the merchandise in person or online, chug the drinks, even misusing the writing materials.

>The fight took a lot out of you, tore your bag & clothes, even saw you getting cut by one of the broken drink bottles when you tripped.

>You still managed to save the rest of the drinks but they partially stained the cap & your notebooks.

>Serves you right (affectionatly) for picking a brand that didn't wrap their product in the same wrapping your pens/pencils & stickers were protectively cloaked in.

>You had to coddle the items in your cut up arms like a baby, your wounds seemingly throbbing into a dull ache when you spotted Tang kneeling next to the figurine of a midflight Monkey King on his Cloud, staff in hand/paw.

>Despite your carrying two or three reminders of your preagreed plans, your focus was rattled about until you turned to settle your tattered bag onto the sofa in your living space.

>He was just as frozen as you were, both standing a few feet from the other.

"Uhm... *clicks tongue awkwardly* Imma go bathe & patch myself up. If you still wanna do this, you can stay. If not, I'll help you pack up once I'm done. Okay?"

>Tang nods nervously, glancing over your battered form & tote before you lurch to your bathroom.

>You were so busy cleaning yourself & clothing your injuries in the stock of medical items that you didn't notice Tang busying himself in the living room: Stitching your bag's edges back together, touching up the character with a marker near the same color group as best as he could, drying the pages of your notebooks with a hairdryer you had forgotten in your nightbag you had left in your living room that you said you'd pick up & put away days ago.

>You stagger out with a sigh to see Tang trying his best to save your sullied materials, seemingly not noticing that the drinks, stickers, or the cap was for him & not for you.

>You quietly watch his back as he mumbled to himself about worrying over your safety, how he'd learn to bandage your wounds whenever you needed, how he'd never let you walk alone again as he would guide you down the safest streets & paths he takes daily, even learning basic self defence to at least grant you a little back up when you needed it.

>Your tired eyes drift about, over the messily stitched up bag, the pencils/pens sitting in their case on the table beside the rest of the items, all surrounding Tang who was a little too focused on not burning your book's pages with the blowdryer.

>Strange how the rainbow of writing items stood out so starkly against the reds & golds that seemingly engulfed his emediate space.

>Without holding it back, you give a soft giggle which startles him into turning your way.

>He accadentilly blasted the dryer's air straight under his face in turning to you causing his hair to tussle wildly over his fogged glasses, earning another giggle from you.

"I- your things were a little beaten up &- well, they neede dto be fixed so you could learn- &- &-."

>Stammering is all he can do at the moment until you boop him from his sitting position as you now stood languidly beside him.

"Tangy, breathe. It's all good."

>He smiles in relief before glancing over the table with a now calmed gaze.

"Is that a Monkey Cop cap!? With the real badge & everything!?"

>He procedes to ramble happily, occasionally looking to you to see if you were listening to him speak before continueing on.

>You peacfully watched his adorable rambling expressions, quitly taking mental notes on whatever you could snag from the 100 mph info dumping.

>Not long after you both finish your meals (A task that took a while as you needed to cease his fanboying longenough to actually eat), you both sat on the sofa watching a SWK action movie of some kind he had picked out for you.

>The movie was good despite the overly amped up sfx & horribly down played dialog audio, though that's most action movies that you're aware of.

>Snoring catches your drowzy attention as you peek down to your side where Tang had slumped over the opposite arm of the couch, fast asleep.

>Knowing he gets enough back pain hunching over a study desk, you stand & lay him onto thsofa in a more comfortable position while removing his glasses to set them on the side table.

>Good thing you had plenty of lap blankets around for him. Pillows, too.

>Kneeling beside the snoring man, you can't help but tuck the blanket in to create a cozy setting for him.

>You'll have to reschedule the study session for later.

>For now, a light snooze sitting up by Tang would do your eyes some good.

Here it is! I haven't picked who I'm writing for next but I'll try to think of someone later. I hope you enjoyed & have a lovely day/night!

[the-s1lly-corner]

Ragatha and Gangle making crafts for their s/o for Valentine's

i think i already did a cast post for valentines hcs... or maybe im confusing it for my CRP post..? either way, its the season again so i may as well indulge a bit! feel free to send in any valentine's reqs/any reqs that are more lovey dovey than usual!

RAGATHA:

she makes you a plush heart shaped pillow! complete with embroidered words and a frilly lace around the edges! i think she makes it a habit to sew you something for your birthday or any appropriate holidays (valentines and christmas), from pillows to blankets to clothing to... really anything, if she can make it shes going to do it! its really high quality, too. i dont think she would be shy when giving you the gift.. MAYBE if it were the first time, but since then shes been emboldened to shower you in the love she knows you deserve! loves giving you candies too, usually also homemade! gives them to you in a cute little box with a ribbon... she wouldnt expect any gifts in return but she would be over the moon if you gave her some sunflowers... she looks like a sunflower girlie, or maybe a daisy girl.. perhaps a buttercup enjoyer, even.. assorted flowers..!

GANGLE:

another one who makes things hand... ribbon..? made! usually cards, but if she has enough time in her schedule and if her creativity feeds her some ideas, shes going to paint you something! maybe a portrait of you two.. or maybe just you.. i think she would fill a sketchbook with doodles of you and thinks she knows you like and gift it to you... though that one is going to take a while, since she'd need time to fill the pages.. but its still such a sweet gift none the less. the muse of an artist, you know? very shy when giving you your gifts, though... overtime she gets more confident with it but she never quite... fully gets into it, you know? would probably cry a little if you think about her and get her some gifts... if youre into crafting, perhaps make her a homemade notebook/sketchbook? or maybe DIY crayons or something..! i know its generic giving the artist art supplies, but theres something about the fact you made them homemade... you know?