#i did a drawing i liked earlier this is all that's left within me

[dreamhot]

yeah

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for telling my wife no?

My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.

Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.

Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.

A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.

Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.

I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.

When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.

She told my parents the promotion included relocation.

I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.

What are these acronyms?

[theinnerunderrain]

Love Me Dead [Yan!Boyfriend x Fem!Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulative behaviors, heavily dialogue bc it's just mostly talking and gaslighting, college life, may be somewhat confusing but it's that story that is up to your interpretation!

+

"[First Name]."

A sizable and gentle hand enfolds your wrist, eliciting a startled leap at the unexpected touch. Casting a curious glance over your shoulder, you discern the hand's owner—a figure with a tousle of rich brown locks. The air on campus carries a lingering blend of pumpkin spice and damp rain, while vibrant leaves in hues of red, yellow, and orange blanket the cement walkway, creating a tapestry beneath your feet.

It was none other than your boyfriend, Asuka.

"Why do you keep ignoring me?"

In a hushed plea, etched with concern and confusion, he inquires, his pallid complexion a canvas for the anxious query. A delicate flush graces his cheeks and ears, a subtle scarlet trace, suggesting an earlier pursuit in an attempt to bridge the distance between you.

"Did I do something wrong..? If I did, then just tell me..."

A dance of confusion painted upon your countenance, a pirouette of bewilderment as you gracefully turned, aligning yourself to face him fully. Brows knitted in contemplation, coral lips drawn into a slender seam, your expression spoke the eloquence of perplexity.

"I'm not ignoring you though..?"

"You are..! You barely text me anymore and avoid me around the campus like I'm some sort of infectious disease.."

He spoke anew, his voice ascending to a higher pitch, an accusatory gaze fixated upon you as though your uttered words were mere echoes of deceit. His other hand delicately enveloped your wrist, creating a symmetrical hold that left you suspended in a still, unsettling equilibrium.

"No I'm not..? Asuka, we both have been busy and I can't spend all day messaging you."

In the chill of the season, you grapple with an awkward attempt at reasoning, noticing the warmth and clamminess of his hands. The contrast, his heated touch against your soft skin, sends an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. Asuka, momentarily lost in contemplation, lets his lips curve into a frown. In that moment, he resembles a kicked puppy, the weight of his next words settling heavily in the air.

"..Are you mad at me..?"

In a suspended breath, he momentarily halted, drawing nearer to you. Amidst the bustling backdrop of students hurrying to their classes, you couldn't help but wonder if curious gazes were directed your way, recognizing the peculiarity of your shared moment beneath the open sky.

"Are you still hung up about last time..? If that's the issue then I'm really sorry, and I've already apologized before...!"

As Asuka continued to speak, words flowed incessantly from his lips, a torrent of increasing urgency evident in the rapid cadence of his cherry-toned voice. A palpable hysteria seeped through his every syllable, mirroring the rising heat radiating from his fervent body. It was as though he embodied a ticking bomb, gradually approaching the brink of overheating, poised to unleash an explosive torrent of emotions.

"Hung up on what?"

Inquiring, you sought release, gently weaving your fingers to disentangle from his grasp, a delicate dance to temper the heat that enveloped. Yet, his clasp remained unyielding, an unspoken embrace refusing to relent.

"Hung up on that time when I was being unreasonable and it made both of us late to our classes."

"No..? Why would I be mad about something like that?"

In the labyrinth of his spoken thoughts, you weave a delicate tapestry, attempting to decipher the cryptic echoes of his mention of unreasonableness. Despite the elusive nature of clarity, you gracefully surrender to the intrigue, deciding to waltz within the enigmatic dance of his words, a willing participant in the artful play of understanding.

"No, there's something wrong but you just won't say it...."

Persistently, Asuka insists, and a subtle irritation blooms within you, despite your inner plea for calm. Yet, his next words delicately wound your heart with a touch of sorrow.

"Do you not love me anymore..?"

"What..?"

In incredulity, you queried, gazing at the young man whose eyes teetered on the brink of cascading tears. The threat lingered in the wells of his eyes, poised to spill over and trace the contours of his fevered cheeks. Yet he continues to rambled.

"Ha! Everything makes sense now. All that cold attitude, and you avoiding me everyday. You lost feelings for me, didn't you?"

His voice crescendoed, rising in both volume and pitch as he advanced, closing the distance until his face hovered mere inches from yours. In this intimate proximity, you couldn't help but sense the burgeoning awareness among fellow students, as they subtly turned their attention toward his unfolding, hysterical unraveling.

"Asuka, how can you say something like that?"

You try to calm him down, speaking in a much softer and calmer tone compared to the man, as if you were a mother trying to calm down a crying child.In the hushed cadence of your voice, a gentle river of reassurance flows, seeking to temper the tempest within him. Your words, soft and serene, weave through the tumult like a mother's lullaby, an attempt to pacify a sobbing child.

"You know...If you had just told me normally that you didn't like me anymore then I would have just accepted that as it is."

Yet, like whispers through the air, your words glide past him. Though a subtle calm embraces him, his voice, now a gentle breeze, unveils a softer cadence, a stark departure from the turbulent tone that had echoed before.

"But why'd you have to go ahead and treat me like that?"

He inquires, guiding your hand to caress the contours of his cheek, gently pressing it against the tender warmth of your palm as if seeking solace in its soft embrace.

"Asuka...I understand you're frustrated but I do love you, and I haven't stopped loving you.."

In hushed tones, your words tenderly caressed the air, coaxing him to nestle against your palm. With a gentle touch, you traced the padded side of your fingers across his cheeks, a soothing rhythm to quell the tempest within him. A graceful guidance led you both to a tranquil refuge, where a brown bench cradled the quietude. There were no other students in sight.

"It's just that, everything has been so stressful with finals and stuff....I swear, I'm not trying to ignore you."

You painted on a smile, and Asuka, with an intent ear, absorbed your words, as though orchestrating a delicate symphony of comprehension within the corridors of his mind.

"But how can I be so sure?"

Once you convince yourself of soothing the man's agitation, his voice resurfaces, posing a question that resonates within your chest, setting a subtle cadence to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"That you're not just saying that, and that you actually mean it? That you still love me?"

In the quiet expanse of a moment, you pondered his words, delicately crafting a response to safeguard the delicate balance of his emotions. At last, your voice returned, accompanied by the gentle caress of your other hand, tracing a tender path beneath the canvas of his eyes.

"I do love you and you should already know that, Asuka."

Your words, like a subtle elixir, lingered momentarily before gracefully permeating his being. He surrendered to your touch, a gentle immersion into the warmth of your embrace, his grasp on your essence unwittingly tightening. Closer he drew, until the shared touch of both your knees wove a delicate closeness, an unspoken harmony.

"I do...?"

"Yes, you do."

In a graceful motion, you extended your arm, inviting the young man into an embrace willingly embraced. He leaned into your touch, his hand delicately finding its place on the small of your back, creating a tender connection. His body emanated warmth, reminiscent of an oven preheated for hours, yearning for the moment when it could be tenderly turned off. In that intimate embrace, moments stretched like delicate strands of time. His hands held firm against your waist, and his chin found solace upon your shoulders, a subtle dance of closeness. The air bore the comforting aroma of cinnamon and coffee, a fragrant reminder of his presence. As the embrace gently loosened, you parted, a reassuring smile gracing your lips.

"Then, it's settled? I promise to make more time for you, so don't go around thinking I don't love you anymore, alright?"

His countenance eased, a gentle nod painting the canvas of his expression. Where tears once traced delicate paths on his visage, they now evaporated, leaving behind a softened countenance. His lips, once adorned with the weight of sorrow, now curved into a tender smile.

"You promise?"

Once more, you inquire, drawing him into a tender embrace. Your hands cradle the back of his head, granting him the sanctuary to bury his face in the crook of your neck. Unmindful of the ticklish dance of his warm breath upon your skin, you remain oblivious to the subtle curvature of his lips into a contented grin. Nor do you discern the palpable brightening of his eyes, responding softly to your words.

"I promise."

[thegoldencontracts]

Pocky Game

Malleus struggles to process his own feelings for you when you challenge him to a round of the Pocky game.

Notes: Flustered Malleus with like. No clue how he's feeling because he's never done this whole romance thing before sends me ahhhh

Malleus felt quite an odd way towards you. He didn't know how to describe it, really. Your presence made him feel- odd. Overwhelmed, like his mouth was constantly running dry. You were unlike most humans. You appreciated his company. You hadn't grown up with fae relatives, either. Even odder. You were an entirely ordinary human, lacking even magic to distinguish yourself from others.

And yet, you were different. You made Malleus feel so odd. What was this feeling? A sickness, perhaps? He wasn't entirely sure. If this was an illness, though, it was an awfully pleasant one.

"Hey, Tsunotaro!" You said, drawing out the first syllable of that peculiar nickname is a teasing manner. "You're here earlier than usual."

Ah. He'd come across Ramshackle again. He'd kept coming earlier and earlier, it seemed.

"Hello, child of man," he said, noticing a small box in your hands. It was a slightly orange red, with a design of what vaguely resembled sticks in the middle. "May I inquire as to what that object in your hands is?"

You smiled.

"Pocky!" You said, holding up the box for him to see. The design in the center was of these thin, crispy biscuit sticks, coated in chocolate. It seemed rather appealing, Malleus had to admit.

"A snack for yourself? I understand. Nourishment is rather important, after all," he said.

You shook your head, gently opening up the box an pulling out a stick.

"Not quite." You held up the stick in front of him. "I wanted to play the Pocky game with you!"

The- Pocky game? What is exactly was that? Sensing his confusion, you explained, opening the door to let Malleus in.

"We put a piece of Pocky between the two of us, and bite from each end! Whoever pulls away from the Pocky first loses. Easy enough, right?" You said, gesturing for Malleus to sit across from you on the battered Ramshackle couch. "Soooo, wanna try?"

It seemed fascinating. That, and-

He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if neither of you pulled away. Would something happen last minute? Or would you both consume the last of the little candy, lips crashing into one another's?

"Indeed," he said, positioning the Pocky stick between the two of you. He started out with a bite. And then you bit it. He bit it again. Simple, wasn't it?

But somehow, before he knew it, you two had both eaten most of the Pocky, with only one bite left between the two of you.

You didn't seem nervous at all, though. You just looked at him with curiosity in your eyes, waiting to see if he'd close the gap between your lips. Malleus, too lost within his own confusion, did no such thing.

So you did.

It was pleasant yet overwhelming, more than anything-

Flustering. So that was the word Malleus had been forgetting this entire time. You flustered him. Your presence, in fact, left him uncomposed. Was that not the behavior of someone around their crush?

Malleus barely had any time to process the revelation when you pulled away with a smirk, leaving him to deal with his whirlwind of emotions.

"So," you said with a smirk. "Looks like I win."

[sillyrabbit81]

Fuse

Prompt: Sleepy & Lazy, Daddy Kink from @myaimlessuniverse (x) Thank you so much for sending the prompt in. Sorry its taken so long.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 600

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, praise kink, probably some dd/lg vibes (I don't know! maybe!), p in v sex, Sy POV

Authors Note: Hi... Been a while... Probably not what you expected, but I swear I'm working on the Brotherhood, but I also have quite a few of these left so I thought I'd knock one out as a warm up for the smut I'm trying to write in the Brotherhood (the Brotherhood won't have daddy kink in it fyi) I'm not feeling Daddy kink like I used to and so I tried to write this a little different from what I had done before. Fingers crossed! As always I need to thank my amazing mate and reader @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated. I also need to thank @augustsprincess for her reading and suggestions.

It was edited by me, on the fly, there will be errors

Dividers by me.

Masterlist

Celebration Masterlist

Sy tightens his jaw and he breathes out a ragged curse through his teeth as he slips past your slick, velvet folds and into your silken heat. He watches, enthralled by the utterly carnal vision of himself disappearing inside your impossibly tight core.

“Stop,” you gasp and he peers up at you perched precariously above him. 

Your thighs tremble beneath his hands and it takes everything he has to stop himself from grabbing your hips and sliding your blossoming core all the way down his cock.

“You’re doing so well, babygirl,” he says, dropping his gaze back to the explicit view between your legs. 

You’ve only taken the tip of him inside yourself and already he feels that tingle brewing in the base of his spine. He’s waited so long for you, longer than he ever thought he’d wait for anyone and he could barely stand it.

“Just a little more, I know you can do it.”

“Daddy,” you whimper. “You’re too big.”

He groans as sweat breaks out over his forehead. “Fuck, baby. You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, in a voice that quivers as much as your pouty bottom lip.

Sy’s heart breaks and he sits up drawing you to his chest. “Hush. You did so good for me baby. Daddy’s proud of you for tryin’.” 

With the tip of his cock still trapped within your snug pussy, he rocks you slowly, murmuring his sweet praise in your ear as he strokes your hair. His thumb caresses your cheek and he smiles when he feels your soft lips against his pad. His cock pulses inside of you as your plush tongue curls around him and you begin to suck. It doesn’t take long for him to feel your quivering body relax against him. He closes his eyes, content as he feels you hum happily within his arms.

He doesn’t really notice at first, he thinks the soft warmth enveloping his cock must be his imagination. Then he hears you moan.

“Babygirl?” he murmurs, softly.

“Hmm?”

He looks at your pretty head resting on his shoulder. You look almost asleep, your eyes seem to have trouble focussing and you’re still sucking hard on his thumb. But then you sigh and nuzzle into his neck while you roll your hips and there’s no doubt about it, you’re slowly sinking lower onto his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he growls into your ear. “That my good fuckin’ girl.”

Sy clenches his jaw to keep himself in check, each moment you rock your hips and take more of him into you is the most exquisite torture he’s ever had. 

“Am I doing good, Daddy?” you ask, hesitantly, dropping his thumb from your mouth.

He’s trembling as much as you were earlier. He has no idea how you can’t see how much you’re affecting him, that you can’t see that in this moment he’d give you everything, anything, just for a little bit more of your sweet pussy.

“So good baby,” he groans. “But don’t stop, Daddy needs more.”

He has to lay down, he has to see his thickness stretch you open. He holds your hips firmly, keeping you in place as he falls back to the bed. His mouth falls open as he watches the last of his cock vanish and your bodies completely fuse. 

He can’t hold it back, that orgasm that threatened from the start tore through his spine and his hips bucked up from the mattress. His eyes force themselves shut as hot pulses surge through him and even though he can’t see anymore, the image of your bodies finally together is burned into his psyche.

[wh3nturtlesfly]

It was early morning by the time someone had found Hero. They had been left to die, blood caked in their wounds and clothing soaked with dew. Left along the riverbank, Hero was curled up tightly, shivering against the morning waves that lapped at their ankles. They were barely conscious when Villain had stumbled upon them.

Hero’s first response had been to fight back. The moment Villain reached out a hand, they sprung forward, raking their nails down the Villain’s cheek. They kicked and cried out, though their voice had been worn from their throat long ago. Soon Hero could do nothing but whimper, drawing back just before they slumped into the soil.

When Hero did wake they were feverish. Villain’s attention had been drawn over the moment they heard splashing, turning to find the crime fighter thrashing in the tub. They rushed over, readying a towel as if they could dry all the puddles that now doused the tile.

“Hey, hey,” Villain placed a hand on the small Hero’s shoulder and they whirled around, eyes wide. Like a spooked animal, Hero flinched back.

“It’s alright,” Villain placed their words carefully. Surely Hero knew that they were nothing short of enemies, and any wrong move could send the crimefighter into a frenzy. Villain couldn’t risk them getting injured worse. Their history meant nothing now. Not until they fixed this. “Breathe for me okay? It’s just a bath, I’ve got to clean your wounds or they’re going to get infected.”

Once the words had sunk in, Hero settled a little. The crease in their brow had faded, though the frown didn’t leave their face. Eyes drifting down to the bath, beneath the suds, their voice shook, “You-”

“Your old clothes were in tatters. Unsalvageable.” Villain saw the way Hero tensed and was quick to reassure them, “I didn’t look- you were wrapped in a blanket up until the tub, I swear it.” They looked away, opting for the cloth they had brought along with them rather than gazing into Hero’s tired eyes.

Villain raised the cloth and Hero immediately flinched away. They remained still like that for a moment. Two gazes locked in a silent conversation. One carried fear and mistrust, while the other held a determination to heal even though they could never understand why. Villain spoke before they could think.

“I’ll be gentle. You can tell me to stop at any time, but I figured you wouldn’t want to be covered in grime forever.”

Their hand remained poised in the air while Hero met their gaze. There was something hidden within all the fear. Relief? Maybe.

Slowly, Hero nodded, scooting closer so the Villain could reach them.

While Villain wiped the blood from their wounds they were careful not to disturb any inch of the Hero’s skin. The two were caught in a deep silence, but despite everything it was comfortable. Dipping the rag into the suds of the bath, Villain came up to the Hero’s shoulders and brushed away layers of mud. Beneath the skin was pale, though not as light as it had been when they had first found the Hero. Then it had been nearly translucent, veins the same deep shade of the bruises that no soap could wash from the Hero’s skin.

With the upper half of their body clean, Villain handed off the rag to Hero. A glance passed between the two. Hero would tend to the rest of themselves while Villain fancied themself with another task.

Hero squeaked when they felt fingers along the back of their head and nearly jumped out of the tub altogether. It took Villain’s quick explanation to reassure them. “Your hair is matted,” they said. “If you leave it now, it’ll only get worse.”

They waited a moment, still. Then, in the smallest mumble.

“Okay.”

Despite their earlier shock, it was an effort not to sigh from the feeling of Villain’s hand in their hair. They were careful, gentle in ways they had never been during battle. Hero found their eyes fluttering shut, the soft pressure on their scalp a heavenly feeling. Villain worked diligently to undo every knot. They brushed through each tangle and plucked away stray leaves and mud. Hero was about to protest when Villain had stopped, before catching onto a sweet scent.

The fizzing sensation of shampoo overtook Hero, mind filling with the smell of citrus. They leaned back into Villain’s touch without thinking, humming softly in contentment.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

Hero’s eyes fluttered open, “Hm?”

“Since you’ve been cared for- you’ve melted into every touch.”

That broke Hero from their stupor. They pulled away on instinct and a pink flush made its way across their cheeks. Villain however didn’t appear to care. In fact, they even looked a little disappointed to see the Hero shrink back. “I-” Hero stuttered, “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize love.” Villain ran their nails along the Hero’s scalp, “You deserve to be cared for. When I found you-” they broke off. The soft smile on Villain’s face slipped away as their mind was filled with the picture of Hero. Bleeding. Shivering. Nearly dead along the river bank. Despite everything, Villain’s hands curled into fists.

“I’ll never let someone hurt you like that again.”

And again they fell into silence, Villain’s promise revealed and Hero left to contemplate the idea. The hushed pop of soap bubbles filled the space. Hero could feel the suds in their hair. It was nice, clean. Safe.

Deep breath in, Hero leaned back again. They felt Villain’s hand come to support the back of their head and their eyes slipped closed on instinct. Soon they felt the pressure return and with a whisper, they turned to their savior and offered a gentle smile.

“Thank you.”

[tihgnari]

✮ bonus. we grew up (ღ)

wc: 571 / tw: none

you wanted to wipe the twinkle in kazuha's eyes as you laid out all your makeup supplies on the table. your pride just wouldn't let you succumb in any form of shape and size to this man, but you always end up giving in to his pretty red doe eyes.

always, and you hate it.

"aren't you so giddy," you comment, testing the eyeliner on the back of your hand.

"of course," he says, tilting his head and closing his eyes, anticipating your movements. "it's been years since you last did this. can't i be happy?"

you quickly work on his right eye, swiping a tiny, thin wing like you knew he liked it. just as you are about to start on his other eye, his hands settle on your hips, and you nearly mess up, heavily conscious of the heat you feel radiating off his hands that muddles your mind. you snap out of it when kazuha calls out your name, probably confused why he can't detect any movement from you. you shrug it off, claiming your eyeliner was getting patchy and was trying to fix it, before diving back to work again.

you slowly cup his cheek, fighting the slight tremble in your hand and the loud echoes of your fast heartbeat in your eardrums as you draw the other eye's wing. "you know i did miss you, yn. i mean… life's been real glamorous considering we're getting gigs left and right, out of town — sometimes in the city even — but i wake up some days wishing you were back in my room helping me write lyrics, and we'd be laughing our asses off while i give you a mini-concert."

you lick your lips, ignoring the pinpricks of needles in your heart as you finish his stage makeup. you offer him a sad smile, something he doesn't see. "well," you start putting everything back into your little pouch, back turned to him. "we grew up, kazu… we started having other priorities."

he laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it. "'we'?"

you pause, detecting unspoken feelings buried deep down within him. maybe if you'd been facing him, you would've seen his aloof mask slipping, and you would've seen the flash of hurt in his eyes before he swiftly changed topics like he always does.

"this is why i only trust my face with you, yn!" he checks himself out in the mirror. "good luck trying to get the ladies tonight, aether!" and he's out of his chair in a blink of an eye, walking towards the rest of his bandmates — you daresay you felt like he was trying to ignore looking at you or shutting off your presence because of his mini slip up earlier —

kazuha will never change, you realize. it's true, and it's been years since you last saw each other, and how he's been before is still the way he is now. you just yet to find out if it's a good thing or a bad thing, but at the back of your head, you just know you've already picked out an answer.

"i'll see you guys after you perform! break a leg!"

you were out of their waiting room and heading back to where you left ei and miko, who coincidentally also just realized you'd been gone too long. on your way back, your mind chants only one thing.

i can't like a boy who stayed in the past.

BAD BLOOD » previous : masterlist : next

a genshin impact band au w select characters

summary — you thought you'd be spending summer break helping at your mom's flower shop or attending kazuha's gigs, but the last thing you expect is to be caught in the crossfire of two band vocalists who hate each other's guts with a burning passion.

note — a peak into their backstory 🫨

🏷️ OPEN! @raidenshogunmommy @arealistonao3 @kazumiku @kur0kki @quacking-simp @rifran @deffenferofjustice @keiiqq @solelial @rvoulte @monikidk @animeobsessed56 @siluc @miy-svz @aries-afk @potteraep @cindywasneverhere @moonjellyfishie @cridtiins @yoruunight @kunihaver @meigalaxy @vyvixen @v4mpess @kamisstufff @pluviwinkle @sp1ng @smhpunkacademic @h-8chi @ukinya @eternal-dokja @ctrlmisu @riabriyn @thegalaxyisunfolding

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you hadn't talked about it. had believed you'd never have to. but then you'd been alone in a classroom with a madman and the walls had been closing in, no hope, no escape. and then it'd screamed, LET ME OUT.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: panic attacks. eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.18

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

Question 1: Why did Frankenstein create the Monster?

Mr. Anderson sat behind his desk, marking that morning's pile of tests. Yours was underway, everyone's heads down, the room silent apart from the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional creak as someone shifted at their desk.

As soon as you'd received your copy, you'd read through the questions; simple enough. Determine metaphor and allegory, write about what's between the lines, not what's on the page.

This wasn't your first rodeo. You loved the practice of analyzing books, finding things the author probably hadn't meant to give deeper meaning to but had, for the sake of high school English. It was where you excelled, earned As and A-pluses, 10/10s, 99/100s.

Mrs. Boudreaux, your junior English teacher, had been the driving force behind your application to the English program at Berkeley. With her guidance, you'd applied in your final semester last year and already had the acceptance letter stashed where your mother wouldn't snoop.

You were really fucking good at English.

And yet...

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

Question 1: Why does Frankenstein create the Monster?

You couldn't focus. Your mind kept slipping, the edges of cordoned-off memories bleeding under the tape. What you'd almost said to Simon earlier—"I'm gonna end up going after him with a—" crowbar crowbar crowbar—your stomach churned. You'd bitten the threat on your tongue and swallowed it back down before it'd had the chance to spill into the world.

Why that? Why, of all things, that? You hadn't...you'd never use...you wouldn't DO that.

"Sissy May! You're not looking! You have to look!"

A quiet, sharp inhale. Like sucking air through a straw. It wasn't enough, but you didn't want the attention. You folded over your desk to lay sideways on your arm, putting your back to the class. Pen on paper, unmoving, blue dot growing as ink seeped through the pages.

Write. Do it. Write something. Anything.

But you couldn't. Half of you was pulled in one direction while time wrenched your other half in another, fracturing in impossible countermotion. Existing forward and backward at the same time.

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

Question 1: Why does Frankenstein create the Monster?

Your vision swam as memories wedged themselves between the seconds, left hand singeing where it was cradled in the crook of your neck and shoulder. The pain shot from the outermost knuckle up to your elbow and struck outward in Lichtenberg figures behind your ribs.

"—the Split River police are considering this a missing person investigation—he lures her to the boiler room—blood blood blood on the walls—and you chose that person to be there—you're stuck here?"

Dialogue ran into each other, warped, distorted, a record played in reverse. Mr. Hartman's speech on Monday, your conversation with Wally, Simon's despair, and private thoughts emulsified into an incoherent sludge that pulsed in your ears.

"—she's stuck she's stuck she's stuck—body could be anywhere—I know this is alarming news, but we have every hope she'll be found safely—aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

Question 1: Why does Frankenstein create the Monster?

Hesitant, careful, you tried not to draw attention as you sat up. Your left hand felt wet and when you looked down you saw tiny pinpricks of blood beading within the crevice of your scar. The pinpricks swelled into each other, more and more, scar tissue splitting up the middle and folding back. Blood gurgled out around the bone and spilled onto your desk. Drip-dropped onto the floor. Dribbled across blank test sheets.

You snatched your hand into your lap—don't look, it's not real, don't look—and clenched your eyes shut, dragging in quick, rabbitty breaths as best you could without making any noise.

"—if you know anything, anything at all, please come forward—he's hiding Maddie in there—I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry—no questions asked, remember?—get your stuff and let's go—I'm sorry I'm sorry—Sissy?"

Your eyes snapped open, immediately trained on the supply closet door. Ominous. Unbelonging. Dry, grey wood and rusted handle. You looked down at yourself, at your hand, open wound spewing a pool under your desk. Clothes and skin stained red. Hair in tacky strings that fell to your waist, much longer than it'd been when you woke up that morning.

Blood. So much. Blood.

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

"LET ME OUT!"

The rusted handle rattled furiously, wood expanding and contracting like the lungs of a nightmare. You were paralyzed in your seat, joints completely fused, unable to open your mouth and scream for help. Tears welled in your eyes, streaked down your face, as you watched the hinges loosen and the doorframe splinter around the strike plate.

"You can't keep me here! Do you hear me!? LET ME OUT!!"

Suddenly, there were hands on your face, a voice in the distance calling your name.

"Go get the nurse." Mr. Anderson instructed, spooked, standing from his desk and rushing down the aisle.

"With all due respect, sir," Xavier said over his shoulder, crouched beside you, hands staying firm on your jaw, "You do it. I'm staying with her."

He turned back to you, repeated your name, told you where you were, that you were okay, that he had you and wasn't going anywhere, shh shh it's okay, I'm right here. Until, finally, thank Christ, finally, your eyes refocused and you seemed to recognize Xavier.

"I need you to breathe for me, kiddo." He said in as soothing a tone as he could given his panic. He grabbed your left hand and put it over his heart, settled his open palm on your sternum, and inhaled deeply. "Come on, May, you can do this. You're okay."

The old nickname stung like a lash, defunct for a reason, but despite wanting to tell Xavier off, you couldn't speak. Your throat was too tight, tongue too large, fuck, you were going to die. Not there. Not in the school. Not where you'd never get out.

Not like this, you pleaded. And then, all at once, you were released, gasping and wailing, toppling out of your seat and onto the floor, into Xavier's arms. He tucked himself around you, protective, safe, and held you as you sobbed.

Outside, Wally almost doubled over, uneven contractions of pain in his chest, over and over, worse and worse. Disoriented, he held himself up on the side of the bus stop.

Rhonda was ranting at Charley about secrets, Maddie's secret—Simon could see them!—and Charley was frantically apologizing and Maddie was gone—where had she gone? It didn't matter—nothing mattered, he had to find you.

"Where are you going?!" Rhonda yelled after him as he took off toward the side door.

And all he could think of to explain his sudden departure was, "I just need some space right now!"

Right then, he didn't care if she believed him. If either of them believed him. If they followed him and found you and found him with you—he didn't fucking care.

He just had to get to you.

Mr. Anderson returned with the nurse, pale and uneasy. Xavier ignored them both as he helped you to your feet. The classroom had thankfully been on its way to empty when Xavier had noticed you'd been unresponsive. Sat stiff as a board at your desk clutching your left hand, the whites of your eyes visible as you'd stared into nothingness.

"I'm taking her home." He said, brooking no argument, holding you against him with an arm secured around your waist and you were almost out, almost away from the terror that had gripped you, but Nurse Laine had to shine a flashlight pen into your eyes first.

She asked questions that you answered with curt nods and shakes.

"Are her parents home?"

Xavier informed, "Her grandmother. I've already said I'm bringing her back." Between convulsions. Had reached into your bag to fish out your phone. Punched the code in easily and found Abigail's number in your contacts. Why the hell was it still 0-6-1-1? Why torture yourself?

It was then that Wally barreled through the closed classroom door. He looked every bit as shaken as you felt. In four long strides, he was at your side, observing Xavier with more scrutiny than he gave to the scene itself.

"I want to go home," You said, weak, wet, directed to everyone in the room, but especially to Wally. Because you couldn't talk directly to him, couldn't touch him; no matter how much you needed him to be who held you, you weren't so far gone not to recognize that that wasn't possible.

Mr. Anderson spoke as Xavier guided you to the door, "You can retake the test on Monday. It's no problem." And it was both a relief and a kick in the gut.

You couldn't look at him. At the man who had abducted Maddie, hurt her, abused her, forced her out of her body.

"Sissy?"

You wrenched forward and vomited into the garbage pail beside the door.

Mr. Anderson took a single step and you whimpered, curling into Xavier as if attempting to hide from the man. Xavier looked between you and Mr. Anderson, a dark expression of suspicion seeping into his features.

"Don't worry about it." Mr. Anderson said of the garbage pail like that's what you were scared about. Like that mattered at all. "I'll take care of it. Just get her home safely."

Xavier gritted out a thank you to Mr. Anderson on your behalf and practically carried you out of there, stopping only to peek into the hallway first to assess how to get you to the car without witnesses.

Minus a couple of students jogging to their next class a few minutes late, the hallway was empty.

Wally remained a stalwart presence at your other side, down the two flights of stairs and out the door into the parking lot.

Lead-rubber limbs caused missteps, scuffing the toes of your sneakers against the gravel. Xavier never let go, every stumble counterbalanced, patient as you found your footing again only to lose it moments later.

He bundled you into the passenger's seat—sideways against the back with your legs still outside the car—and crouched to tell you, "I'm going to grab my bike. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay."

After a hard press of his lips to your forehead, he was gone, and Wally took his place.

It felt too much like your sophomore year, Xavier swooping in to the rescue, leaving Wally in the dust. Only, this time, Wally knew you could hear him. More than that, Wally knew you'd answer when he asked:

"Baby, what happened?"

You shrugged, fragile, tired, and, "Panic attack," you said simply. "I think this whole thing with Maddie is getting to me."

Wally nodded as if he understood, but he didn't, though he so wished he did. What he'd felt, what the connection between you and he had delivered into him...if he'd been alive, the pain Wally had experienced would've killed him, he was certain of it.

Are you okay? He almost asked. Instead, he dropped to his knees and wound his arms around your waist, coaxing you forward until you tilted out of the seat and allowed Wally to take your weight. He leaned back and sunk onto his haunches so you were entirely seated in his lap, face under his chin, arms around his neck, fastened to him in a way he was beginning to prefer.

Eventually, "Something happened. Six years ago," you revealed, so quiet Wally nearly missed it.

He kissed a crown into your hairline, "You don't have to tell me, pretty girl, it's okay."

"I want to." You insisted, but Wally felt the tension in your back when you said it.

Plastering on his best smile, he craned his neck so he could see your face, practically melting as those big, marbled eyes blinked sweetly up at him. "Some other time, then, huh?" He suggested and was pleased when you agreed. A little nod and then you nuzzled yourself back into his throat with a sigh. Cute as a baby bird.

Xavier returned a few minutes later and set about preparing the car so he had enough space to deposit his bike in the trunk. Once finished, he climbed into the driver's seat and tapped you lightly on the shoulder.

"Ready to go?"

Contrary to last night, when you'd slammed back into your body at speed, you seemed to simply rouse as if from sleep. A far gentler experience that you hoped was the new norm.

"Get some rest, baby," Wally said and stood, dusting off the knees of his sweatpants. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

You answered with a smile since Xavier was watching you; refusing to start the car until you'd positioned yourself properly with your seatbelt buckled and the car door closed.

As Xavier drove out of the parking lot, the warmth of the connection between you and Wally fell away like a cloak slipping from your shoulders.

Xavier didn't hesitate to reach over the console and take your hand as if he could sense you needed the comfort. He squeezed and promised, "No questions asked."

You kept your head turned toward the window, heavy on the headrest, and squeezed back.

💀___________________________

PART SEVENTEEN - PART NINETEEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[chewnotchoke]

don't ask me where i've been - l.riwoo

note: before anything else, this all started bcs of this tiktok and i thought 'wow he's so fucking sexy i should make a cocky riwoo fic' and boom :) ,,, he's not super cocky here but yk his confidence is on another level

vibes are kinda based from friends by chase atlantic so go take a listen :)

warnings: drinking, partying, making out, no smut, riwoo is a chase atlantic song personified (he's just so hot), and just riwoo being the cool guy he is

word count: 1.6k

more under the cut!

to find freedom after a relentless week of exams is what you always seek, and the place to go to is the club. with the beats pulsing through the air, the swirling lights and LEDs wrapping around you melted the exhaustion and sleepless night you had for a week. a table was reserved for you and your friends coming tonight. some of them welcomed you while others still hadn’t arrived. the laughter and greetings were barely audible from the sound booming across the place.

“what’s up, y/n! how was finals week? haven’t seen you around lately…” leehan offers you a shot of tequila which you politely decline. “barely survived, but i’m glad to be here!” you weren’t planning on drinking a lot tonight, but there sure are a lot of influences around you. a few drinks wouldn’t kill you anyway.

the bitter taste of tequila spread around your mouth, fiery and intense. your face contorted with a grimace as the liquid went down, biting onto the lime barely after a second. leehan smiles in satisfaction and you can only roll your eyes.

the strobe of lights slices through the darkness, casting fleeting glimpses of pleasure on faces flushed with ecstasy while the music fills every corner of the room. “are we not going to dance yet?” you ask him. “let’s wait for everyone else.”

“like who?”

“riwoo, and sungho.”

you couldn’t even care less about the latter, but the mention of riwoo’s name sent a shiver of excitement and nervous energy cascading through your veins. the room seemed to shift, the lights becoming more vibrant, and the sounds more distinct, all because he was coming.

oh, riwoo. you had few interactions with him but there’s just something so captivating in him that draws you closer. the anticipation was thrilling and the mere thought of seeing him made your palms sweat. you lost track of the time that you didn’t notice he had just arrived.

he was wearing a white undershirt, a black zip jacket with collar, a dirty wash color of denim jeans, a wristwatch on his left wrist, and a sunglass that sat above his head, pushing his hair back. the sight of him caught your heart in a delightful turmoil.

‘he looks so fucking good.’ a warm blush crept up your cheeks, and you quickly lowered your gaze, afraid that your eyes would betray the whirlwind of emotions stirring within you.

he flashed his eyebrows as he greeted you with a smile, mischievous and warm. you watch him gulp down the same drink leehan offered earlier. this scene wasn’t new to you, but being around these people is. you were only close with leehan, jaehyun who came with you earlier.

but that’s what friday is for, right? having fun. and you bet it’s gonna be more fun with riwoo and his other friends around.

“what do you think about going wild before going to the dance floor, riwoo?” sungho arches his eyebrows, smirking. “wild? what do you mean?” riwoo asks, looking around, as if he doesn’t know what his friend’s intention was. without giving him a proper answer, sungho pours a drink for riwoo and hands him the saucer of lime and salt.

you're perched on a stool, watching attentively then riwoo walks closer to you.

“do you want to do a body shot?”

the bar's dimly lit pulsing lights created a dazzling array of hues across the floor, reflecting off the mirrored walls and blending with the electric hum of dialogues and music. you can’t help but laugh nervously. did i just get chosen by riwoo? to do a body shot?

“me?” the thought of it seems so wild, so out of the ordinary for a friday night. but the atmosphere is infectious, and the rhythm of the night seems to nudge you towards a yes. cheers and laughter echo around you, creating a clamor of excitement. you see riwoo’s face dominating above, eyes sparkling with playful determination.

“sure, why not?”

with a confident grin, riwoo leaned forward, the warmth of his breath mingling with the faint scent of tequila he drank earlier. he gently sprinkled salt along the curve of your neck.

the room seemed to hold its breath as riwoo licked the salt from your neck, his tongue leaving a trail of tingling sensation that made your knees weak. his lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, a tempting tease that sent trembles down your spine. riwoo picked up the lime wedge, his fingers brushing against your skin as he held it ready. then, with experienced ease, riwoo threw back the shot. the lime followed, his teeth scraping your fingertips as he sucked the tangy juice, your heart racing at the sheer intimacy of the moment.

the crowd erupts in applause and yells, the noise almost deafening but thrilling all the same. it’s reckless and a bit silly, but in the contagious energy of the night, it feels just right. you didn’t notice how long you’ve been looking at riwoo that he had to snap at you to get your attention.

“what are you looking at? just tell me if you wanna kiss me i’d let you do it.”

he smirks, turning around as he goes back to his friends circling the table with rims of shot glasses lined up. leehan came and wooed, nudging your shoulder with his as he brought another glass of drink.

“i might die before i even get drunk.” you gulped the alcohol in one shot, your cheeks heating up as you barely tried to catch up with everything that was happening around you.

the night deepens and the air becomes thicker with the scent of perfume and sweat. your head starts feeling a little heavy, and your surroundings get a little hazy as the neon lights cast over your face and all around the area. after a few dances, you have been sitting beside your friends for almost an hour as you try to catch up with them, and riwoo is there too.

you were too busy chatting with drunk jaehyun to notice, but riwoo had been stealing you a few glances. a few interactions happened earlier again like him passing the glass to you, or eyes meeting as you laugh together over the story taesan was telling earlier. (like this)

then, the music shifted to a familiar song. without a word, everyone moved to the dance floor. riwoo suddenly grabs your wrist and navigates you through the crowd, following everyone else to the platform. the floor vibrated beneath your feet, and you felt a rush of exhilaration as you danced with wild abandon, your body moving in time with the beat, and mind blissfully blank.

slightly intoxicated, he sways behind you with his grip on your waist, warm and reassuring. the rhythm of the music thrummed through your veins, and suddenly, all the awkwardness and self-consciousness melted away. you moved together, your bodies finding a sync that felt as natural as breathing.

riwoo starts telling something inaudible because of the blasting music.

“what?”

“i said you smell good!” his voice a little louder. you turn around to take a good look at him but his eyes are wandering around. not long after, you caught his attention when you asked him, “really?” and he leaned forward closer to your neck, his warm breath wrapping over your skin as his nose caught the scent of your perfume.

“you do,” he says. “sorry, i’m kinda drunk.” his hand palms over his face, trying to keep himself sober but we all know he’s not.

under the dark lights and swirling haze of the the bar, the unsaid tension burst into something palpable and undeniable. his eyes are deep pools of enigmatic charm. they're the kind of eyes that see through the ordinary, making you feel like you're the most captivating person in the world when his gaze locks with yours. there’s a depth there, a magnetic pull that makes looking away seem impossible.

at that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just you and riwoo, as if the music and the crowd had faded into the background.

“wanna do it? let's go outside.”

riwoo drags you out of the place as he brings you to the parking lot lit only by the distant, flickering streetlights. you leaned your body against the door of the car’s trunk. not a single figure was seen and riwoo slowly slanted in, narrowing the gap between your lips and faces. the taste of whiskey and something sweet—sunkist, maybe—mingled in the kiss, intoxicating in its own right.

riwoo’s body presses against yours while your fingers trace the back of his neck. it was clumsy and urgent, the kind of kiss that only comes from a place of uninhibited desire, fueled by the haze of alcohol.

you were fazed by how riwoo was enthusiastic with the way his hand was roaming behind your small back, and the other tangling in your hair. his lips moved in sync with yours. he regained his composure and reminded himself of what was happening; he was really kissing you, you were really kissing him, and suddenly the world around the two of you became meaningless.

it was messy and imperfect, yet somehow perfect in its raw intensity. something about the taste of riwoo’s lips was intoxicating, making you need more—need everything. the night was alive with your shared breath, the feverish heat of your kiss cutting through the cool night air. his hands went from the side of your head, down to the back of your neck.

“should they know about this?” you backed away, almost sober.

“why not? shouldn't they know that we just had a hot make out session, and i'm a good kisser?” he sneaks in an arrogant smile, “let's go back.”

as you went back to the pub, riwoo remained on the dance floor to have fun with the guys while you head over to the shared table, finding leehan alone, drunk as you guessed.

“weren't you dancing earlier? taesan and i couldn't find you.”

“don't ask me where i've been. i just made out with riwoo.”

and if there's one thing you've learned that night, riwoo was a crazy bottom-lip kisser :)

i'm going crazy over riwoo and it's not even healthy anymore,, i'm going insane writing nor reading a fic is not enough!! i just need him right Now!!

he's so chase atlantic code here wtf i had to listen to a whole ca playlist while writing this and it fits him so bad!

anyway,,tell me how this went through the comments, reblogs, or wherever!!! i love feedbacks plsplspls

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

lesson (not) learned

part two: lesson (still not) learned wc: 1.5k reader: afab (maybe also only femme but i don’t think so? idk lemme know if you think it should be labeled femme) warnings: minors dni explicit smut!!!!!, established poly!relationship, oral m!receiving, fingering, learned this word today: pussyjob, hard/softdom!hanbin, switch!hao, sub(i guess mostly)!reader, hanbin and hao are not that nice but they love you (hanbin loves you more tho lol), addressing hanbin as "sir" towards the end, hanbin calls them puppies one time, mxm but very light, i guess light angst but a good ending, basically you and hao are always competing to be hanbin's favorite lol summary: hanbin punishes a bickering poly!reader and hao for fucking without his permission; they do not learn their lesson this started out as something else and then became this. oops. gonna have to write that original idea too eventually. enjoy :)

🚨MINORS DNI 18+ EXPLICIT SMUT BELOW🚨

“what was that, baby?” hao asks, hand tangled in your hair as he grips it tightly. somehow his tone remains patronizing despite the fact you’ve been edging him for at least half an hour. “can’t talk with a big cock in your mouth?”

you try to answer again, but it’s useless; a frustrated moan comes out of you instead and, for a moment, the curtain falls on hao’s persona he’s been maintaining to impress his other lover. you can see it in his eyes how the vibration on his cock affects him; how he desperately wants to give in to you. he always wants to cave a few minutes in.

but...

he blinks quickly; tightening his grip on your hair and yanking a bit harsher. “come on. he’s... he’s gonna get mad at us again if we don’t finish our punishment.”

a pointed exhale from the corner draws your attention to the third presence in the room. “aw, hao hyung, don’t be silly now. why would i get mad at you? hmm?”

the words are kind on paper-- playful even. but you would never know by the way hanbin says them. a viper’s tongue.

stupidly, you make eye contact with him. he’s lounging back in a leather armchair, a hand over his mouth and one eyebrow cocked in what seems to be amusement. a small beam of light illuminates a diagonal strip of his face from the corner of his left eye to his jaw bone. he looks otherworldly like this and the heavenly visual causes you to lose your grip on hao’s cock in your mouth.

it lolls out of you with a pitiful pop.

“baby,” hao pleads annoyedly, taking your face in his hands to try to get your attention but your fixation on hanbin’s beauty is just too strong. “baby, we need to keep going or he’s--.”

by the time you’ve actually comprehended hao’s words, a cruel laugh is already escaping hanbin’s throat from the corner of the room. “how did i manage to find the two stupidest, horniest people on the planet?”

“fuck,” hao whispers angrily, shaking your face that’s still in his hands. “this is all your fault! you always do this!”

“this is not my fault! are you kidding me!?” you defend, childishly folding your arms across your chest. “you’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands off me earlier.”

“you literally grabbed my fingers and stuck them in your pussy,” hao counters, glaring at you. “you always want him to think you’re his perfect little angel, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. you’re just a spoiled fucking brat who needs--.”

your lips are on hao’s before he can finish his assassination of your character. unfortunately you just can’t help yourself when he talks to you like that. but hao is no lesson in self control either, seeing as he’s moaning into your mouth within seconds; pushing your back down onto the bed beneath him. in between your thighs, the head of his cock starts to tease your entrance.

“fuck,” hao whines needily, rutting against you and, as he does, treading dangerously close to forbidden territory for the second time today. the desperation in hao’s voice only turns you on more, though and, clouded with lust, you also forget about the events that happened just hours ago.

“pleasepleaseplease, need you,” you beg incomprehensibly, the head of hao’s cock pressing into your clit. “fuck hao, please, just need you inside me now.”

“oh my god,” hao says as if he’s gonna lose his mind if he can’t put his cock in you in the next five seconds. “fuck, i can’t--... we can’t, baby. we’re not supposed to...”

though hao is certainly attempting to convince himself not to finally push himself inside your dripping hole, he’s failing miserably. you feel him start to rut progressively deeper, his resolve slowly turning to moans and whimpers until--

“you two never fucking learn your lesson, do you?”

your whole body freezes as hanbin yanks hao up by his ear to a kneeling position. hao seethes at the pain and hanbin whispers something in his ear that shuts him up without discourse. the sinking feeling in your gut reaches its height when hanbin’s attention turns to you.

“binnie, please,” you start to plead as hanbin just smiles coolly back at you. “hao started it! i would never break the rules, binnie-- i promise.”

hao opens his mouth to argue, but a quick glare from hanbin settles him down. the younger man lets go of hao’s ear; stepping closer to you. a gentle hand finds your jaw, pulling you up to meet him in a kiss. it’s sultry and warm and once again has you squeezing your thighs together for relief.

“cute,” hanbin coos, his left hand reaching to cup your heat. you can’t help but grind against his fingers as hanbin fawns over you. you know it’s a trap. but you just can’t help yourself.

neither can hao, whose hand has already begun stroking his cock again.

“hao hyung started this-- is that right, angel?” hanbin asks, pouting at you as he rubs his thumb across your cheek sweetly. and then the other shoe drops. “hao hyung is the one who got my angel this wet?”

you shake your head frantically. “no! no, binnie--.”

he tilts his head to the side-- a suggestion (or threat) that you better start using his preferred title effective immediately.

“i’m sorry, sir, i just--.”

“i was five fucking feet away from you-- you think you can lie to me?” hanbin’s tone surprisingly isn’t so much angry as it is... disappointed. your eyes meet hao’s and you know he’s thinking the same thing:

this is not good.

“bin-ah,” hao says softly, cautiously reaching out a hand to touch hanbin’s shoulder. “binnie, are you really upset?”

hanbin sighs melodramatically, shrugging off hao’s touch and turning away from the bed. “you both want each other so bad. it doesn’t really seem like you need me anymore.”

“what!?” you exclaim, scrambling to sit up and wrap your arms around his neck from behind. “of course we need you, hanbinnie! we love you. and i love you way more than hao loves you.”

“you’re such a little...” hao starts, grabbing your nipple between his fingers and pinching hard. you squeal and he sticks his tongue out at you as he takes hanbin’s hand in his own. “we’re trying to reassure hanbinnie and you still find a way to make it all about you? so typical. and for your information, he likes me more than you.”

“he does not! he said--... he said...” your words trail off as you suddenly feel hanbin pressing kisses up your arm where it hangs across his chest. “hanbinnie, we’re sorry. we need you. clearly we need you. we’d kill each other without you.”

“so sorry, binnie,” hao mumbles into hanbin’s shoulder. “we just can’t help ourselves sometimes.”

“we--... we need to be punished again, binnie,” you say, kissing his neck sweetly.

“please, binnie?” hao echoes hopefully. “we’ll be good this time!”

the sound of hanbin chuckling is not what either of you are expecting to hear, but when he turns around with a glint of sadistic pleasure in his eyes, an exhilarating chill runs down your spine. all of this-- from the moment hanbin had left you alone with hao this afternoon while he went to get groceries up to now-- had been one giant trap. 

you and hao were really in for it now.

“you’re both a little too soft for your own good, don’t you think?” hanbin muses with a smirk. “we all know you desperately need me.”

you look down at your lap in shame and you know that hao is doing the same.

“but i need you too,” he adds, a hand running up one of yours and hao’s thighs. “my two favorite puppies. so perfect. just need some more training is all.”

“yes, sir,” you and hao respond together happily.

just as hanbin’s left hand wraps around the base of hao’s cock and the fingers of his right hand find your entrance, his phone starts to ring in his back pocket. “fuck,” he curses, removing his fingers from you and reaching for his phone. you start to whine, but a sharp look keeps you quiet. 

“i have to take this,” hanbin sighs, walking towards the door. “when i come back, i better find you both on your stomachs for me. understand?”

“yes, sir,” the two of you respond from the bed again.

as the door shuts behind hanbin, you look at hao. his eyes are narrowed in anger and the head of his cock is leaking pathetically. you stare at each other for a long moment before hao quickly gives up and begins climbing back between your legs.

hanbin knows exactly what he’s going to walk back into. and though he knows he’s going to have to make you both pay for it...

he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[vivlily]

It is once more fox girl friday, but along with that it's also friday the 13th. So happy fox girl friday and...

BOOOO!

sorry that was pretty scary, but you know whats scarier? A story I heard about a merchant and his son stopping at a village. But this story might be toooo scary for a scared little fox like you, so I'll be nice just this once and hide it below.

I might misremember it since i heard it from like a youth pastor way back when (it's been a long time).

so like get this, this merchant and his son stopped by an otherwise unremarkable town to do like merchant stuff or whatever. And like eventually he got to selling some of his wares, but everyone kept avoiding one of his wares in particular. Can you guess what it was?

That's right, it was his apples, so he asked some of the villagers what was up.

"Is there anything about my apples that bothers you all?"

upon mention of apples, the villagers went stiff, fear enveloping their face's.

"Sir, t-t-t-heir marvelous apples sir. I-i-it's just that there lives an awful "plague god", in that manor across the lake."

"that vile creature... in it's infinite jealousy, ended up cursing those that ingest an apple."

The villagers went on to explain various tragedies that affected those unfortunate enough to eat one. And mentioning that the vile plague god takes the form of a young girl. And that if ever you notice a young girl on that isle, it's already to late for you. The plague god has already noticed you, prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

But the merchant merely laughed and said

"Very well, I suppose I should enjoy my marvelous apples myself! WEHHEHHEH" (He had a really odd laugh, runs in the family I believe)

He had a bite.

Not long after he went looking for his son so that they could have a meal. Only to realize his son was missing, so off in a hurry he went to look for him. Asking as many people as he could.

Eventually a villager said that they saw a boat go out not long ago, towards that vile little plague god's domain.

He wasted no time and desperately paddled his way over to that cursed isle. Much to his relief his son was within sight, yet something was odd.

His son, one to only ever draw anything in the comfort of their own carriage was sat on the ground drawing the mansion. Relieved he gave his son a warm hug, and told him how dangerous it was here.

They had a moment, before the son asked if he could draw one more thing before they left the isle. The dad was worried, but he happened to be a softie when it came to his son, so he relented.

As the son finished drawing, he waved towards the manor, his father become confused, and very worried. The merchant was fearing that the vile plague god was in there. But he turned around and cast his gaze towards the mansions window, and saw nothing but the curtains.

Fearing his son was seeing things he said we leave now, and leave they did.

On their way back towards the town, the son proudly showed off various drawing's to his father. Explaining each and every one of them, and the son's final piece depicted a crying girl.

The father obviously confused mentioned "what brought this one on?"

"ooooo that was the girl in the window earlier"

The dad had never seen any girl, fear gripped his heart, and he decided that they leave immediately. And so leave they did, the dad swore never to return again, and to never have another marvelous apple again.

Heh, it's not really as scary as I remember if i'm being honest, it's the usual classic "ghost girl only the kid sees" kinda thing, a teensy bit boring tbh.

Honestly the only reason it stuck with me was because I kept wondering just why the ghost girl was crying? Well it's probably just adding the crying ghost trope for the sake of adding a trope, kinda lame imo.

Well that's that, have a marvelous fox girl friday!

[finnbbl]

Hyunjin X M! Reader - Dancer AU | SMAU | Chapter 4

Ch. 4 - Meeting Stray Kids | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter |

| Story Masterlist |

Written: Yes

Smau: Yes

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I decided to go with Hyunjin for this story. Something about his personality draws me in and motivates me to write. I hope you guys will stick with me throughout it 🥹 (Feeling really inspired, so maybe a triple update today)

Warnings: Not much I don’t think, swearing maybe?

A couple weeks later..

Reading over that paper that previous week, you noticed it had said you would be leaving with Stray Kids within a few weeks. You weren’t sure if your eyes were working correctly. So you re-read it for what felt like a thousand times before you finally came to the conclusion that, yes, you would be leaving with them in only three weeks. Those few weeks were spent with nonstop rehearsal, which you didn’t mind. Dance was such a relaxing hobby for you. However, those few weeks left no time to actually practice with the idols yet. It was assumed you’d be doing that the few days before the first concert.

It wasn’t long before the 3 weeks was up. On the paper was also a list of stuff you should expect to bring with you. God did it seem like a lot, but you managed to fit everything into two suitcases. So there you were, luggage in hand at your front door as you waited for your friends who had agreed to take you. At 4 in the morning. They wanted to bid their final goodbyes before you took off for god knows how long. Soon enough, their car pulled up, one of the doors swinging open almost immediately. Next thing you knew, you were on the ground. “Y/NNN I CANT BELIEVE YOURE LEAVING!!!”

“Ohmygod Lia!” Laughs from the other four girls came from the car as they all watched from inside. “Now you know how I felt!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah yeah,” Lia eventually got up off of you and held a hand out for you, which you gladly accepted. Not sure if you could see or think straight as your head had just collided with the wall pretty hard moments earlier.

“Guys we better get going if y/n is gonna get to the airport on time!” You and Lia heard Ryujin shout from the driver side window. With that, you two were in the car. “Sooo how do you feel y/n, going on tour with such a big group?” You shrug. “What do you think the answer to that is?” Your head cocked to the side as your eyelids fell, deadpanning at Yuna. “Nervous, as always.” A scoff could be heard from you, although she wasn’t wrong. “I swear, if I had a dollar for everytime y/n got nervous over something, i’d be rich.” Yeji stated as she turned her head around to face you guys in the back seat from the passenger side.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You already are rich Yeji.” She rolled her eyes at you playfully before turning back around. “Well thanks to Lia I can’t even focus on being nervous now that my head is pounding.” You neared her face with yours briefly. “Not my fault, you started it.” Lia retorted, followed by a pout. Her bottom lip stuck out with her crossed arms, now avoiding eye contact with you.

“Oh just a heads up y/n, i believe you’re flying on the same plane as them.” Chaeryeong told you, this took you a back. “What? But i’ve never done that before, backup dancers have always gone on separate planes as the artists.”

“Yeah well, that’s our company for you.” Chae saw the way your head fell back at this information. “I better not embarrass myself.” Muttering, now with your head in your hands. It didn’t take much for you to get so anxious. You had your anxiety to thank for that. Always worried about messing something up, or embarrassing yourself. “And that’s why I told you now.”

A hand was placed on your shoulder from her, “Don’t worry, they’re really nice. Like we said. Just relax and take a deep breath.” Following her instructions, a few moments later you were able to push it aside. Not only that, but now you were at the airport. Spotting everyone at the designated spot to meet, you could already see the eight boys of the group. “Well, we’re here. Come on get out we want a hug before you go.” Smiling to them, you six stepped out of the car as they enveloped you into a giant group hug. “Tell us all about it. We wanna hear everything.” Ryu told you, as everyone else nodded in agreement.

The eight guys noticed that the members of their fellow group was onto feet away from them outside of their car. “Hey look, it’s ITZY. I wonder what they’re doing here?” Felix grabbed his friends’ attention. “Come on we should go, I wanna say hi to Yeji.” Hyunjin told Felix, who only agreed. Quickly, they were stopped by their leader. “We’re not supposed to leave without a body guard guys.” Bangchan had said as he put a hand on each of their shoulder. The other five, weren’t paying as much attention to anything going on. After all, everyone was tired as it was so early in the morning. Once the five girls had stepped back from what appeared to them as a group huddle, they noticed you standing in the middle of them. Hugging each one of them goodbye. “Wait who’s that?” Hyunjin questioned mainly to himself, but ended up grabbing a couple of the others attention. “Woah that’s y/n l/n. He’s such a sick dancer dude.” Suddenly butting into the conversation, was Minho. He could appreciate a fellow good dancer. After squinting, the other three could realize that it was in fact you.

“Ohh you’re right. Hard to see out here with how dark it is.” Lee Know could only tell by your signature cap you always wore. In fact, the whole group was familiar with you. You were always trending on social media, and you had danced with many great artists. A very well known dancer, but they wouldn’t have guessed you’d be traveling with them.

Just then, all five of the girls began smiling and pointing in their direction. Causing you to look over at them, you waved nervously as Lia started to drag you over to them. “Oh god Lia. Please do not embarrass me.” You haulted her to a brief stop. “Relax oh my god i’m not gonna do anything. Besides, embarrassing you would mean embarrassing me.” Her statement confused you, but maybe that was her plan as you were being dragged over again. Wasn’t long before you were standing in front of Stray Kids, a few other of the backup dancers stood to the side. “Hi guys, this is y/n.” Lia started to introduce you as you yanked your arm out of her grasp. “Lia, I don’t think they nor I came here for an introduction.” You let out an heavy breath and rolled your eyes. This earned a smile from a few of the members, at least the ones who had noticed the six of you. “Well anyways we should get going and so should you guys. We just came here to drop him off.” Chaeryeong stated before they started slowly making their way to the car. “It was nice to see you guys again, bye!!” All the girls called out their goodbyes to both you and the boys.

Moments of silence passed as you all waited for the rest to show up. Then it wasn’t long before you all headed to check in. “So, y/n…” You had heard someone next to you say your name. Hesitantly turning your head towards them, you realized it was Bangchan. After first finding out who you’d be touring with, you decided to do a bit of research on them. Learn their names and such. “Oh, me?” It was hard to believe someone like him would be talking to you. He nodded and chuckled at your response. “So how do you know ITZY? Never seen you dance with them before so i was just curious.” His head tilted to the side, eyebrows furrowed. “Oh well uh, I went to high school with Lia.” A small smile fell on your face as you responded quietly. “Ahh gotcha. Well, we’re excited to work with you.” His elbow nudged you lightly, all you could do was smile like a dork. If it wasn’t thanks to your mask, you’d be an embarrassed mess. It was hard for you to take compliments, especially in person. A few more words was exchanged with their leader before you all made it to security.

The next few steps were done efficiently and quietly. Next thing you knew, you were on the plane. Examining the interior was like nothing you had seen before. You never expected the plane to be so fancy. Only having toured with a few other artists, who weren’t under very large companies. Considering how popular this group and company was, it made sense. You had learned from the girls how touring with artists worked, seats would be random but you’d only hoped you wouldn’t be seated next to one of the members. Not that they weren’t nice or anything, but you couldn’t handle sitting that close to someone so famous. They lived an entirely different life, one you’d never experience or understand.

But as your luck would have it, the tallest member of the group took the middle seat right next to you. Trying to avoid any unnecessary eye contact or interaction, mostly for your nerves’ sake, you found yourself staring outside the window. And it worked, for five minutes at least. “Heyyy y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” The member known as Hyunjin, had positioned himself to face you. With no other choice, you decided to turn his direction and face him. “Hey, it’s uh.. nice to meet you too.” Hyunjin tilted his head to the side, a gentle look resting on his eyes. Something about them relaxed you, and for some reason you weren’t anxious. Pulling off your mask, as it was starting to get pretty hot, you shot him a warm smile. Silence enveloped you two. As he was about to say something else, the pilot interrupted with the usual script they followed.

Taglist: @silverstarburst @virluna148

[x-x-nyctophilia-writes-x-x]

Thunder and Lullabies

Summary: With Matt's enhanced hearing thunderstorms can be a nightmare, and as much as he may pretend that he's gotten used to them, you can tell otherwise.

Matt Murdock x Reader

(Gender neutral/no use of gendered pronouns for reader)

Fluff, Domestic life, Comfort

Warnings: None

You sat reclined in your favorite pajamas against the arm of your boyfriend's couch, a good book in hand, a soft blanket draped over your lap, and a warm cup of your favorite tea within reach on the coffee table, while Matt, your boyfriend of about six months, cleaned the dishes that were left from the dinner you'd made for the two of you earlier that evening.

Listening to the ambient sounds of rain and thunder outside, and sneaking glances at Matt while turning the pages of your book, you smiled to yourself. Everything was so warm, and comfortable, and cozy. It was a perfect moment... For you, at least. But for Matt, it was very different.

You didn't notice how different at first. You'd caught early on in your relationship that he could be a bit twitchy when he was listening in to something, especially when there were a lot of sounds around him at once. So at first that's all you thought it was. But as you kept glancing at him you started to notice more. The way his brows knit together, and the way the corners of his mouth were drawn down in a slight frown. The way his shoulders were tensed. The fact that, despite the almost worryingly tight grip he had on the dishes he was rinsing at the moment, he kept nearly dropping them.

Then, when you saw that subtle way he jolted after a relatively close sounding clap of thunder, it hit you; he wasn't listening in to the rain, he was wincing.

"Matt," you called to him softly, "are you alright?"

"Hm? Uh, yeah of course, I'm fine." He answered, and if it weren't for the observations you'd made over the last few minutes you might've missed the slight strain in his voice.

"Are you sure?" You pressed lightly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, everything's fi-"

Another roll of thunder, another flinch.

"F-fine..." Matt continued to reassure you, although markedly less confidently. You sighed quietly as you set your book down on the coffee table, and called out to him again, "Hey, c'mere for a second."

Matt dried his hands and made his way toward you. "What's up? Need more tea?" He asked, but as he reached for your cup you gently caught his hand.

"No, just come closer," you said sweetly, tugging lightly on his sleeves. Visibly confused, but compliant, Matt allowed you to keep pulling him down toward you until he was lying on top of you, head positioned directly over your heart. You felt him unwind some, and after a quiet moment you spoke up again.

"...Why didn't you tell me the thunder was hurting you? I would've done this sooner."

"...I didn't want to bother you, especially when you seemed to be enjoying it. Besides, I've been dealing with this since I was a kid, I'm used to it by now," he said, though to you it sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself.

You scoffed quietly, "Liar. It obviously still really bothers you. And that's okay. You don't have to endure everything, sometimes it's okay to just... let something hurt. And to let someone else help you deal with it. And what am I here for if not to be someone you can rely on? That's what partners do."

Matt didn't respond at first, but he did wrap his arms around your waist, drawing the two of you even closer together. After another brief stretch of silence he asked, "But what about the rest of dishes? I should finish those." Even without looking you could hear the smile in his voice clueing you in; he was joking, and had no intention of getting up.

You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one hand gently resting over the ear that wasn't pressed to your chest, and the other running your fingers through his hair, back and forth over his scalp. "Don't worry about that, I'll take care of those too, after things quiet down," you said.

He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, as you felt him slowly relax against you completely. "Thank you," he said, barely louder than a whisper.

"Like I said, it's what I'm here for," you said with a warm smile, before leaning in slightly to kiss his forehead. As you continued to hold him and run your fingers through his hair, you also began to hum a gentle tune, the sound of your voice and the rhythm of your heartbeat creating the sweetest lullaby he'd ever heard.

Now, this was a perfect moment for the both of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is my first time writing in months, first time ever writing for Matt, which I've been wanting to do for ages, and my first time writing on tumblr in general, so thanks @imsofansie for the prompt that finally got me off my ass and writing again. Hope you, and anyone else that happened across it, enjoyed it. ☺

[hannahssimblr]

I’m running again. It is the hottest day of the year, with the sun blazing down on me, but I’m running anyway, because this is what I do. It's become the pattern of my life. I sleep like shit. I get up, I run, I shower, and then I sleep the afternoon away. 

This morning at six, I talked to Alison. She was in the airport, crying in a bathroom stall. 

“It’s so weird that literally nobody knows I’m here,” she said. “The last time I left the country was for our school tour to Rome, can you imagine? That now I’m doing this?”

“You’re going to be okay,” I said, though I didn’t really know it to be true. How could I? Who am I to even say that to her, as if I could ever be sure? As if I am a person capable of making anything okay. I think that all I ever did was fail her, and she is alone and scared today, so I am failing her again. 

“I would have come with you,” I told her, in a voice that sounded weak and pathetic to my own ears. 

“I didn’t think I wanted you to, but now I do,” her sob echoed off the bathroom tiles. “Now that I’m here, I don’t want to be on my own anymore.”

“I can still come,” I said, but it was a lie. It was too late. I suppose that’s always been the nature of our relationship. I’ve acted too late, and reached her when the damage has already been done. 

For the rest of my life, I’ll think of Alison and feel regret. Her face and that feeling, intertwined forever. 

When we hung up, I stared out at the sea for a long time, the gentle pull of the tide, felt the heat of the sun that poured in the window that reminded me I was real and alive, then I put on my shoes and went for a run. 

It’s a day for swimming, not for running. The sea is still and glasslike today, clear turquoise and gently washing over the shore, as seagulls draw lazy circles overhead. I will swim, just not now, not while there are still heavy thoughts in my head. 

It seems I am the only person in town stupid enough to run on a day like this. I know sunbathers are watching me as I go, and I catch snippets of their incredulous remarks. “What is he at?” someone mutters to his friend. “He’ll be dead before he gets to the end of the beach, I’d say.”

I might be. Within minutes, my t-shirt clings to my body and sweat from my hair dribbles into my eyes. It stings. I wipe my brow with my arm, which is salty with sweat and unhelpful, so I commit to partial blindness for the rest of the run, kept on track by the slash of shore to my right. 

The beach is a blur of colour. Towels scatter the sand, and the vague suggestion of parasols jut above the masses of flesh coloured blobs, but the shape of her is unmistakable. She’s coming in my direction with her phone to her ear, ambling along the strip of damp sand the tide washed earlier. I can’t hear what she’s saying. There’s too much noise, but she hangs up abruptly as soon as I reach her. 

“Hi, Evie!” I wipe my brow again and act casual about my atrocious sweat patches. 

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know it was you.”

“Just out for a walk?”

“Yeah, enjoying the sun.”

“Same here. Hot, isn’t it? Sorry, I’m so sweaty.” Perhaps drawing direct attention to it will lessen the awkwardness, but then again, maybe it will make it all worse. What if, somehow, she hadn’t noticed until I pointed it out? 

She smiles sweetly. “I suppose that’s what happens when you go running in a heatwave.”

“I know. There’s no escaping it, though. It’s just been hot all the time lately.” I glance toward the sea. “At least I can swim after it. The water looks so nice.”

“Yeah, it’s lovely. I’ve been getting in three times a day.”

I smirk at her. I should ask her if this is some kind of competition, or if she just likes to brag about all the swims she takes. It would be funny, but now I think I’ve left it too long, and saying it now, after such a long pause, would make it seem like I have thought too much about it. I think I actually have thought too much about it. I look down at my feet, and a bead of sweat darkens the sand in front of me. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t… I didn’t, um, text you after that night we went to the graveyard.”

A smile. “Oh, no, well, I didn’t expect you to, like I wasn’t waiting for a message or anything. It’s fine.”

“I know. I just said that I would when I was free and I didn’t. I’ve been kind of distracted the last couple of weeks.”

“It’s okay, I understand! I get like that sometimes, too.”

“I just have a bad habit of saying I’ll do something and then not doing it, like, I’m a flake. I hope you weren’t waiting to hear from me.”

She tosses her air over her shoulder and laughs breezily. “No way. I didn’t notice. Don’t worry, I honestly do that all the time. Things just get in the way.”

I am desperate to get out of my sweaty clothes. The sea calls to me like a siren. “Well, if you want, we can hang out now. Are you busy today?”

“No, I’m free.”

“Okay, well, do you feel like a swim?”

 She frowns. “Right now?” 

“Why not? Yeah.”

“Oh, well, I don’t have my togs with me at the moment.”

“Me neither. I was going to go in naked.”

She blushes. “Wha- oh, um, really?” 

Bad joke. Maybe I should put more considered practice into shutting up. “No.” I pinch the hem of my polyester shorts. “I’ll just wear these. They kind of double up as running shorts. Look, you don’t have to if you don’t have anything to swim in. I just thought I’d ask. Maybe we can hang out later if you don’t have-”

“No!” She cuts me off in such a frenzy that I blink, surprised. “Just give me a sec. I’ll run up to the mobile and grab my togs, just… just wait here.”

Without giving me a second to respond, she sprints up the beach, sand flying behind her in cartoonish clouds. I watch her go all the way to the end of the beach, where the tiny figure of her scrambles up the side of a steep dune and leaps over a fence, gone from sight within seconds. 

I wait for her by the shore, my body too tired to do anything but sit and pick handfuls of sand from the ground. I could just get into the sea and swim now, but going in without her feels like a betrayal. She might want to do something competitive and race me anyway, and I might like to let her. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[peaches2217]

Perhaps some 🤒 for Luisley?

🤒 - Needing to be looked after

Overstimulated

~~~

The click of the front door opening, muffled though it was through the walls of his bedroom, brought Luigi out of his self-induced trance. That would be Mario. Back so soon?

When there was no call of “Weegee, sono tornato!”, the dread fluttering within Luigi’s stomach beat its wings even harder, exacerbated by the perpetual overstimulation that buzzed throughout his limbs and core. A silent Mario was rarely a good thing. That usually meant he was angry or deeply saddened or so thoroughly baffled that he had to retreat into his thoughts to make any sense of his own feelings, and given the context under which he had left the house…

What did he say? Was he upset? Those thoughts tumbled through Luigi’s head in a maddening rush, and as terrified as he was of the answer, he needed to know. As unusually light footsteps padded towards his room, he cocooned himself beneath his blankets, as if their soft fabric could cushion the blow of whatever he was about to hear, and steeled himself.

“Ch-che ha detto?” he called out to his brother. “Era… arrabbiato?”

The voice that responded was not Mario’s.

“Ah! There you are!”

Luigi’s blood froze within his veins.

He tossed the blankets aside and sat up just as the door was thrown open, and the sudden slam of wood against wood sent a jolt through his body that made him clap his hands over his ears. The all too familiar figure in the doorway, his bold chartreuse and white and gold standing in stark contrast to the cottage’s cozy interior, jolted as well.

“Commoners’ abodes,” Peasley muttered beneath his breath, eyeing the door with a mix of contempt and bemusement. “Why must your doors be so ludicrously lightweight?”

The disdain in his eyes might normally draw a chuckle from Luigi — he could practically see Peasley storming into the office of Toad Town’s primary contractor and causing a scene, because how dare the great heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom be given a home constructed of anything less than marble and solid gold — but today he flinched away from it. 

This wasn’t happening. Surely this wasn’t happening.

Remembering all too suddenly the state that he was in, Luigi dove beneath the covers once more. Maybe he hadn’t been seen. Maybe he could still save face. Maybe the fabric could swallow him whole and put an end to this nightmare before it began. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing?” Peasley repeated, his tone thick with mock-offense. “My love, what wouldn’t I be doing here? Is it not one’s most sacred duty to tend to their loved ones in times of need?”

His voice came nearer as he spoke, and beneath his shroud of cotton and down, Luigi gulped. His pulse throbbed in his ears, his heart threatening to rip through bone and sinew right out of his chest. “Please don’t worry,” he said, though his voice shook far more than he would’ve liked. “I— I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today! It’s just, y’know—”

“‘Shroom fever’, correct?” Peasley drew the question out, his voice calm, but laced with something that sounded like amusement.

He didn’t buy it. Immediately Luigi’s throat tightened, and he inhaled sharply, willing himself not to start tearing up.

He expected his blankets to be pried away any moment now, for Peasley to expose his unkempt, lying face and see him for the great big mess that he truly was. The mattress dipped beside where he was curled into a pathetic heap, and his muscles tensed, preparing for the worst.

But it never came.

“Yes, that’s what the red one told me.” The amusement was still there, but now it sounded softer, more affectionate than accusatory. “I must say, he’s not too terribly convincing a liar. He would have held no qualms in seeing me to your bedside if you were ill, but he couldn’t give me a good answer for why this time was different.”

Luigi winced. He hasn’t considered that.

“You can’t tell him what’s going on,” he’d pleaded to his brother half an hour earlier, arms hugging his chest tightly in a futile attempt to stave off the effects of sensory overload. “Just, like… tell him I’m sick. Tell him I’ve got shroom fever or something!”

Mario, though sympathetic, had been disapproving. “He’s gonna have to know eventually. Come on, you know as well as I do that it won’t change anything.”

“But what if it does? What if he thinks I’m pathetic?” 

“Then he never deserved you in the first place,” was Mario’s response. 

Of course, that answer brought Luigi very little comfort. He felt bad enough when this happened, when his oddly-wired brain decided for no good reason that all sensory input was suddenly a thousand times more overwhelming than what he was used to, that getting out of bed was just too great a struggle as a result. For it to happen on a day he was supposed to meet up with the love of his life? The thought that he might lose said love for something so pathetic as this? Luigi couldn’t even begin to comprehend the ease with which Mario suggested that might be okay.

Peasley chuckled now, the sound resonating from deep within his chest. “Your fraternal devotion to one another will never cease to amaze me. No matter my insistence, I couldn’t drag an answer from him. He merely said that my right to know was entirely up to you.”

Frustration and gratitude grappled for superiority in Luigi’s mind. Of course Mario would never go spilling Luigi’s business. But he would have allowed it just this once, just to save himself some heartache.

If he was going to lose Peasley’s respect, he would have preferred it to happen from a distance. He didn’t want this front-row seat to his own undoing. The air beneath his flimsy fortress was hot and stale, and he felt sweat beading at his hairline.

“…It’s nothing,” he finally attempted, meekly.

“Hmm. Well, it’s something to you, and thus it’s something to me.” A rustling of fabric, and then the lightest of indents in the mattress next to his head. Peasley’s hand. “Do you mourn, my love? Might this be the anniversary of some tragedy? Or perhaps you’ve lost something dear to you?”

Not yet. Even thinking as much constricted Luigi’s airway once more, so he shook his head in response.

Peasley hummed again. “Might this have to do with your condition, then? Your anxiety, or your… awe-tee-sum, was it called?”

“Autism,” Luigi corrected automatically, and instantly he flinched at his own haste. “It’s… it’s nothing, I promise. It’s dumb.”

“Ah. So that’s a yes.”

Peasley still didn’t move. He sat perfectly still, his hand never once inching closer, an invitation that Luigi was welcome to accept or decline as he saw fit. He wanted nothing more than to reach out into the still air and take that hand, hold onto it with all his might, have some sort of solid proof that he wouldn’t be abandoned in spite of his brain telling him such an outcome was inevitable.

“…What else did Mario say?” he ventured instead, because Peasley had never been the sort to keep his hands to himself, and he had a sneaking suspicion his elder twin had something to do with that, too.

“He said I would do well to speak quietly and refrain from touching you without your permission,” Peasley confessed, “lest I would have scooped you into my arms the moment I heard your voice.” Another chuckle, and this time Luigi almost had the heart to join in. “I confess, I still don’t quite understand. But I would like to help. Will you acquaint me with your struggles, my dear?” 

Acquaint me with your struggles. Now this was the phrase that bounced about Luigi’s skull, because it made no sense whatsoever. They were supposed to be on a date together. They were supposed to be out and about, enjoying food and nature and being a normal couple (as normal a couple as a human nobody and a Beanish prince could be, anyway). But instead Luigi was cooped up at home, too overstimulated to function like a regular personal, and Peasley had every right to be upset with him for balking on their plans and being a waste of oxygen and organic matter.

And for some reason only the Star Spirits could attest to, he wasn’t. Literal royalty sat at Luigi’s side, addressing him with fondness and requesting understanding of his inadequacies. 

That was reason enough for Luigi to untangle himself from his blankets and pull them down, just enough to peek up and ensure the creature beside him was, in fact, not some fantastical fabrication from deep within his own fantasies.

“There you are.” Deep brown eyes beamed at him, revered him as a god among men, and for a moment Luigi felt that maybe he really was. “I feared I might not get to see that beautiful visage at all today.”

A swirl of conflicting emotions bubbled up within Luigi: confusion, joy, sadness, shame, filling every crevice of his body and compelling him to act. Hesitantly, he pulled the covers all the way down; the shedding of those protective layers made the buzzing in his limbs intensify, and the fresh air sent a chill through him, but breathing it in felt refreshing, even renewing. He filled his lungs, reached out, and accepted Peasley’s invitation at last.

The prince’s hand was pleasantly cool to the touch, and just as he had hoped, its stable presence calmed his racing heart. He tightened his grasp and tugged in order to pull himself up and scoot into an upright position. His head spun and his mouth was dry, but Peasley was here, and he would at least hear him out, and the loving gaze he fixed Luigi with gave him the courage to explain.

“Sometimes,” he began, “I… I mean, half the time, n-nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine, but for some reason the world is too loud and too bright a-and everything… hurts. It’s all just…” He balled his free hand into a fist and clenched as tightly as he could, and that at least lessened the buzz in the corresponding arm. “...too much.”

“Is that so?” Peasley said. There was genuine curiosity in his tone, sympathy in his eyes. “And today is such a day?”

Luigi nodded. “And I-I promise I tried fighting past it today. I didn’t wanna let you down, but…”

“Let me down? Luigi, I would never ask you to exceed your limitations for my sake.”

“But my limitations are—” He swallowed as well as he could, given his tongue felt woolen in his mouth. “Don’t you think it’s… don’t you think I’m kinda… kinda pathetic?”

The question gave Peasley pause, and where Luigi half-expected a denial, he was given only silence. But this silence wasn’t tense or uncertain; Peasley touched his index finger to his chin and cast his eyes aside, lips puckering and brows furrowing, the charmingly goofy expression of a Bean deep in thought.

He was… he was actually giving it serious consideration. And somehow that made his answer mean so much more than an immediate reassurance would have.

“…Not particularly, no,” he ultimately decided. “There are days where even I, skillful as I am, don’t feel quite up to par, and oftentimes there’s no good reason for it. Would you think less of me for such a thing?”

“Wha—? O-of course not!”

“And I think no less of you in turn.” Drawing Luigi’s hand to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss to his knuckles, his well-moisturized lips soft against the tight and dry skin.  “Thank you for teaching me more about yourself, Greenie. I loathe to see you struggle, but I’m grateful that you would share those struggles with me.”

Once more Luigi’s heart raced, but no longer with fearful anxiety. Was this really possible? He was so certain he’d ruined Peasley’s day, so certain the repercussions would haunt him for years to come, and yet here he was, showering him with love and accepting him at one of his lower lows.

This wasn’t happening. Surely it wasn’t happening. 

But it was, and the relief and gratitude and affection that flowed through his perpetually overstimulated body made Luigi want to slump forward, fall into Peasley’s arms, wait out the unpleasantness in the safety of his embrace.

At the same time, the thought of so much physical contact… he shuddered and relaxed his balled fist. Maybe holding hands was as much as he could manage today. But suddenly the thought of being alone again terrified him. “Will— will you stay? I-I don’t know where Mario’s at but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”

The smile Peasley flashed was both pleased and knowing. “Oh, rest assured, he’s not too far. He said he’d remain in the living room while we spoke.” Leaning in, he added beneath his breath: “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been listening in all this time. You know you have an excellent brother, do you not?”

At that, Luigi laughed, a mousey but authentic laugh. “You have an excellent brother” was Peasley Code for “Your brother has implicitly made threats against me that could have him declared a war criminal in the Beanbean Kingdom because he cares far more for your well being than his own.”  Mario trusted Peasley and the two were good friends, sure, but he could get… rather intense when it came to his beloved little brother’s heart.

“Sorry about him,” Luigi whispered back.

“Rest assured, I’m happy for it! The more people looking after you, the better.” Peasley leaned back once more and stood, but he didn’t let go of Luigi’s hand. “Would you like some water?” he asked at his original volume. “And perhaps some lip balm? You’ve been licking and smacking your lips this entire time, you know.”

Luigi’s tongue darted between his lips automatically at that statement, and he realized Peasley was correct; not only were his throat and mouth still dry, but his lips were cracked. A bad habit of his, admittedly, and one he was never conscious of until someone else pointed it out. “Please. But—” He paused then, because making requests of a prince still didn’t feel quite right.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to make the request. Peasley gave his hand one more tight squeeze before dropping it and answering the silent question aloud.

“I’ll be only a moment,” he promised as he backed out of the room. “Nothing in all the world could convince me to leave your side, my love. You have my word.”

And though he still trembled in discomfort as his boyfriend took his leave, Luigi relaxed against the headboard, closing his eyes and sighing softly, because he knew it was the truth. Come hell or high water, full-functioning days or overload days, he knew now more certainly than ever that Peasley had no intention of abandoning him.

And he had to admit, that was a nice feeling.

[illwynd]

Utgard-Loki's Tale

I finally got to perform this thing tonight, so I guess it has reached its final form.

This poem is inspired by the traditional Icelandic rhyming poem Lokrur. My adaptation uses a bastard Kalevala metre (trochaic tetrameter), with various features of both Finnish poetry (repetition and alliteration) and Icelandic poetry (alliteration and abundant use of kennings and other wordplay), and I developed it specifically for spoken performance, in accordance with the way the story would originally have been passed along. There's some really geeky shit in here.

Also my thanks to @obligate-rebel who gave me a thumbs-up on an earlier iteration of it :D

...

By men I am called Utgard-Loki

Outlands’ trickster, apt in magecraft,

Skilled in spells and in shape-shifting

One who worked his tricks on wanderers

One who wickedly deceived them

When to his threshold gods came calling

You see, all Thor and Loki knew about me was that I throw all the best parties—what else is there to do when you live way out in the Outlands?—but everyone in attendance has to be the best there is at whatever it is they do, so these two gods... they thought they’d crash my party, cause some trouble, start some fights, show me who’s boss in my own house, and I had to figure out a way to get them to head on home without actually starting a war, because, y'know, that would tend to put a crimp on the party scene. So do you want to know how I managed that trick?

Surely you have heard them tell it?

Heard the tale as they recite it

Heard about Thjalfi, swiftest,

Tricked in foot-race versus Hugi

Passed by one who treads so lightly

Or the contest of the mighty

Rymr, he who calls the thunder,

Put his lips upon the vessel

‘Pon the cup all full and frothy

Froth as white as salty sea-foam

And the thirsty draughts he drew then

Drained the horn—of but a mouthful!

So it seemed by liquid’s level

Sore was he, Midgard’s protector

Falling short in simple trial

Surely you have heard them tell it

Heard the tale as they recite it

Heard how Loki, sly and clever

Set his hunger versus Logi

Chowing down along the trencher

Met the two with crumbs between them

Drawing even, feasts devoured

Loki patting bulging belly

Smirking with his smile ‘broidered

Met they then—but skinny Logi

Ravenous as wolf in winter

He had eaten all the meat…

And all the bones… and all the trencher!

Thus was Laufey’s heir defeated!

And you must have heard them tell it

Heard the tale as they recount it

How the grim one’s son continued

Put him forth another challenge

Boasting of his strength of body

Strength indeed of all his sinews

I set before him then the mouser

Tomcat’s father, hearth’s wee tiger

Purring on the floor before him

That he should test his might upon it

Asa-Thor bent low to grasp it

Bent to wrap his grip around it

Struggling with grunts of effort

Grunting as he tried to lift it

But one paw he barely shifted!

One paw raised above the tiles!

Purring still the feline bore it

As Baldr’s brother failed to heft it!

Fury gripped lord of Bilskirnir

And in his anger bade another

Challenger be brought before him

Said I then I thought my mother

In her youth a wrestler had been

But in her dotage still might suit him

Wroth was he with red beard bristling

Stomping on the mat before him

As Elli hobbled to her corner

But soon she did contrive to hold him

Hold him fast with arms around him

Arms like bands of stubborn iron

Till his knee did bend beneath him

Shamed was Grimnir’s lauded kinsman

Beaten so by woman wizened!

Tell me those are not the stories

More or less as you have heard them

But one voice has not been cited

One has not been heard to tell it

That is me. And if you’ll heed

I’ll tell the legend as I lived it

And each contest I’ve recounted

—true it is that I deceived them

Wanderers of Aesir kindred

But look at it from my perspective

Behold for but the briefest moment

Consider how I first had found them

Sheltering in fingers’ caverns

Cowering within the leather

Where the last night I had left it—

I swear I did not mean to wound them

Or to frighten with my snoring

I was merely heedless taken

Heedless of their headstrong journey

Thus I met them in the morning

Waking to their faces frowning

Trying to be most disarming

Not to give them cause for worry

Then they asked ME where the pathway

To the hall of Utgard-Loki!

I saw it full, the very future

Of which I’d had no foretelling

For they queried after speaking

‘Mongst themselves of doom impending

Doom that they would deal that monster

Dwelling in those halls unknowing

Well!

I endeavored to dissuade them

Placing in their path obstructions

Surely less than cruel misfortunes

Set before them my conditions

If they’d travel with my guidance

They would travel by my schedule

I would call the halts and respites

I would carry all provisions

Thus I handed them frustration

Goaded them to resignation

Alas the doggedness of gods

Was not within my calculations

So, if they’d not be dissuaded

Then ‘twas I must scheme before them

How to meet their whim for action

Without inviting my destruction

Thus I pointed them to pathway

To the door of Utgard-Loki

Once apart I shed illusion

Readied all in preparation

Waited till they came a-hailing

Thunder roaring at my doorway

And ‘twas I that granted entry

Though they did not recognize me

As they came to show their mettle

Prove their might in any challenge

Fain was I to meet their boasting

With my own skill in devising

Thus I placed the end of vessel

From which Odin’s son drank freely

Down upon the dolphin’s doorstep

Thirst could never be so mighty!

Not to drain the fishes’ highway

In this way I meant to thwart him

Meant to tactfully confound him

Meant to make him long for Asgard

Not to linger ‘neath these timbers

Then, said I to ember’s elder,

Let me place on you deception

Garb yourself in Aesir aspect

Shape the hungry tongue within you

Solid where your spark did flicker

That Laufey’s son so sly and able

Might not swiftly recognize you

As he sits down at the table

Thus I spake to Munin’s brother

Of the planned dissimilation:

Wrap yourself in men’s attire

From the ash-wood make your raiment

Lace your boots of supple leather

Then set foot upon the pavement

There to meet Toothgnasher’s wounder

There to race against him striving

Round the path of mead’s lacuna

Thus alike I worked enchantments

On the great snake Midgardsormr

On that serpent world-encircling

One that Thor once snared while sailing

Scales reshaped to furry shoulders

Still he hissed alike I tell you

That one trait you might have noted

Naught else of his essence showing

And then came the last contender

Gracious guest of all the prudent,

Spoils of the years’ survivor

By her leave I did conceal her

Veiled her hair in moonlight’s metal

Bent her back like twisted tree-limb

So Harbard’s son would be no wiser

When she set her hold upon him

In the aftermath of trials

Egos soothed with ale aplenty

I revealed to them my secret

That they would not feel too cheated 

Nor would they feel too affronted

All I wished was their forbearance

Parting then as friendly rivals

So they would crave not for vengeance

For Jotuns have our share of talents

Our own place on World-Tree’s branches

Spells apart from gallows’ knowing

More are we than Aesir’s foemen

There my tale is near completed

But if my tongue’s allowed to waggle 

Somewhat more of gods and giants

And the bitter blood between us

Just a few words I will venture

Fury, I have surely felt it

Anger aching for requital

For accounts all to be settled

Quenched with blood the battle’s metal

But I’ve seen no better ending

Not for bards and not for swordsmen

Than to sit by fire flaming

Telling tales with close companions

Ale in hand and sated, cravings

And all the stars above bright-blazing.