#i know there are typos and i'll find them once it's posted

[shoshiwrites]

7 from the February Nosebleed Club prompts for Jo/Egan🖤 - @lostloveletters

7. "pinky," Bucky Egan/war correspondent OC. @mercurygray or @basilone didn't know they were collaborating with me on this but they did:)

If she’s keeping count, this is the second time Bucky Egan has acquainted his fist with someone’s face on her behalf. 

That she knows of. If she’s keeping count.

Someone. William. Her William. Was. If he’s anyone’s William he’s not hers anymore, as he stumbles back, his fingers grasping at the worn, smooth wood of the bar. Rubbing his jaw as it makes a noise that curdles her stomach. He tries to hit back but he’s too stunned, too fuzzy from the beer, and Bucky just leans back and lets him miss.

His shoulders slope towards her like an aside, as he demonstrates with his hand. Behind them, the publican starts making noises, about the lack of respect, the threat of throwing them all out. It’s all true. She’s seized by a sudden flight in her feet, but he’s standing here next to her, and she doesn’t move. “See, just like I told you, gotta keep the thumb in like this-”

William runs his tongue over his teeth, his voice ragged and angry and different. “Jo.” 

She opens her mouth to speak — to say, she doesn’t know what — but all John does is stand between them, the threat of more should someone dare try, the blood rushing in her ears.

The woman William had been chatting up — the one in the blue dress — the one whose name she does or doesn’t know — is gone. 

And he leaves. Turns and leaves like a coward before she’s had the chance to throw the ring in his face. Not that she's one for that kind of display, but considering that her companion, tall enough that he has to watch his head for the beams, had just been moved to fisticuffs completely sober, well-

It all sounds different now, in her voice. Breaking, light. “John.”

“You alright, Captain?” he says, before he catches himself, realizes what she’s just called him. She’s not a captain tonight anyway, and maybe that’s one in her army of mistakes. Her trousers, her blouse, the medallion beneath the neckline. She wears it now instead of keeping it safe.

Is it raining outside? It smells like it will, or did, when she pushes through the door, the air thick and almost warm. He follows her out, the bike or two parked outside and a jeep. Around the side of the pub, a quiet path.

“Jo.”

What is she supposed to say? William doesn’t think she deserves to be here. William doesn’t think anything she writes is any better than anything any man with a byline could spit up. And she’d agreed to marry him. She’d thought that was ok. 

And John-

The day they’d come back from the scrapped mission, the one she’d been allowed to observe. Observe. A miracle she can hardly still believe, in more ways than one. Dumb luck, more like. It still sets her heart racing, if she thinks too hard about it. 

The ground beneath their feet again, and her knees knocking together and her ankles, the relief. The scarf damp against her collarbone. I knew you’d get up there, he’d said. You don’t let us tell you no. Mention how good I looked flying past you n’ Buck, alright?

Like it wasn’t a question. 

“Jo, tell me you don’t think he’s got the right to do that to you.” She’s frozen, like something could wind back what just happened. Her eyes fill with tears. He sees them, she knows he does. She’s still wearing the goddamn ring. She shakes her head, the smallest noise.

"What do you want, Jo, huh?” The question moves through his whole body, his arms, his hands. He means it, every word. You want me to find him and hurt him? I’ll do it. You want me to go kill a guy, I’ll go kill a guy. I do it all the time, it’s easy. “What do you want?" 

You.

It’s a shock in her chest, for the times she’s thought it before. Like a match lighting in a dark room.

Quieter now, his eyes trained on her. “What do you want?”

“You to kiss me.”

He stops. Only a second, trying to see her in the dark-dusk, against the trees and the tangled hedges, the last slivers of fading light. 

She’s looking up at him, watching him, before he stoops, so close that she can feel the curls against his forehead. A breath, that shaking pause, before he presses his lips against hers. Seeking her. He doesn’t taste like the beer he hasn’t drank, only toothpaste and the smell of aftershave, and warmth, and a little sweat. 

Her top lip in both of his, her hands at his jacket, her fists balled like she’ll drown.

“Easy there,” he says, the words dancing with a laugh, the complete absence of meaning it. She can’t help it, the stupid grin on her face, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb on her cheek. The way he doesn’t stop kissing her.

The smallest stuttered noise in the back of his throat, the kind she feels in her hips. God-

“John-”

“Say that again.”

She whacks her palm lightly against his shoulder, pulls it back slow as his tongue catches at her front teeth. “Won’t push my luck on a Bucky, then-”

“Since when-” she says, and he wants to laugh again, how breathless she sounds. He’s here, he’s here, for how long, for how long- “Since when don’t you push your luck-”

He smiles against her mouth. The noise of people leaving the pub, or coming in. She straightens up, but he doesn’t pull all the way back. “If that’s all it took to get you to smile-" The back of his neck is warm under her hands, the short hair. He’s a little breathless too, the kind that stops her heart. “Am I better?”

Her lips press the soft spot against the side of his mouth, so firm she feels the gums beneath.  “What do you think, Major?”

He’s beaming, here in the dark. “I think I like it when you call me Major.”

“Do you, now?”

“Or John.” He presses his thumb against her chin, her bottom lip.

“Or Bucky.”

Soft against her ear, his voice. “Or Bucky.”

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Two

Part One

Have I already posted something today? Yes, yes I have but also I finally got through my block on this one hfjdks

I'll be working on Addams Family Steddie next but idk when that part might be coming out lol

anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Steve has taken over Eddie's large porcelain bathtub after it was moved to the main room of the captain's cabin. Steve is lounging in it now, a week into being on Eddie's ship, with his tail draped over the edge so he can submerge his head and breathe through his gills. It's infinitely more comfortable, even with the seaweed still wrapped along the length of his tail and reminding him of its presence with every twitch.

He sighs, bubbles rising from his gills in the "I'm beyond bored" pattern that Robin would light up at seeing. But she's not here, so Steve is left to once again turn Eddie's bat ring over in his hands, fingers brushing along the wings.

Eddie had shown him a drawing of an actual bat, and Steve still thinks they're freaks of nature. But he finds the ring itself a little endearing if only because it was Eddie's ring willingly given.

He smiles softly, the gesture only dampened by the sharp jab of worry over his guppies and Robin. They're probably losing their scales with worry themselves, scouring the sea and putting themselves at risk of being seen in their hunt for him. Steve can't even fault them, either; he would do the exact same thing if Robin or any of his guppies had been captured like that. He has done the exact same thing.

Steve sighs again, this time the bubble pattern expressing exhaustion and "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He kind of misses having someone who actually understands what his bubble patterns mean, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to get frustrated with anyone for their inability to gain meaning from bubbles floating toward the surface.

He thinks, maybe, the worst part is being confined to the tub. Sure, it's infinitely better than the fucking bucket from the other ship, but Steve is still getting restless. He's like a guppy that's watching its siblings swim but still doesn't have the tail strength to swim itself. He feels trapped and has way too much energy with nowhere to spend it.

Steve hasn't mentioned this to Eddie, though. He'd been planning to, of course. In fact, he intended to tell Eddie that morning, but then they'd docked at some port city and Eddie had run off with the promise of being back soon. Steve had tried not to feel a little abandoned, left by himself with fucking nothing to do while Eddie prances around on land.

Before he can get too far into this line of thought (he's about three minutes from convincing himself that, really, Eddie shouldn't have left and could probably be taught the basics of bubble patterns as punishment), Eddie practically barrels into the room, vibrating with something Steve only recognizes as excitement when he sees Eddie's grin.

Steve surfaces, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning on the edge of the tub, twitching his tail slightly and exercising incredible control to keep from preening when Eddie's gaze lingers on it. "What happened?" he asks, slipping the bat ring onto his thumb, the only finger it fits.

Eddie drops to his knees, scooting closer to the tub until their noses are almost brushing. "I've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he says, voice light and eager.

"Where is it?" Steve asks, returning Eddie's smile.

"It's on the deck! Do you trust me?"

For a brief moment, Steve thinks Eddie is about to throw him back into the ocean. Which, like, wouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve would be incredibly offended by the suddenness and wonder if he'd been imagining the draw between them.

But he's sure Eddie wouldn't do something like that without asking first, so he tucks it away as something only slightly possible. Steve nods and pulls back, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub before pushing himself up. He perches on the edge, his balance a little unsteady as he looks at Eddie.

Thankfully, Eddie catches on quickly. He scrambles to his feet and scoops Steve off the edge of the tub, one arm under his tail and the other wrapped around Steve's back. Steve holds onto Eddie's neck, still a little paranoid about being dropped despite Eddie's prior insistence that he wouldn't let anything happen to Steve.

"I think you're gonna love it," Eddie says, his voice soft and his breath warm against Steve's cheek.

Steve gets the urge to ask again, but he holds back as Eddie carries him up to the deck. The sky is covered in clouds, keeping the sun from blinding him when they emerge from the stairs. The deck is concerningly large for such a small crew, and Gareth is currently lounging against the mast, a hat pulled low over his eyes as he sleeps.

He's not very attention-grabbing, though. Not when there's a large...contraption in the middle of the deck. It has four wheels and is shaped like a boat, big enough for Steve to sit comfortably without his tail draping over the edge. There are cranks of some kind on the inside of the boat, and Steve realizes it's filled with water as Eddie carries him closer.

"What is this?" Steve asks, trying not to grimace at the discomfort of his scales beginning to dry out. They're starting to feel tight and itchy, a sensation he really hates, like they're going to split apart at any second.

Eddie grins wider and carefully sets Steve into the water, making sure he doesn't bump the tail or the seaweed wraps. He points at the crank to Steve's left and says, "That will make the back wheels turn. If you crank forward, you'll go forward, and back will make you go backward." He then points to the other crank by Steve's right. "This one controls the front wheels. Forward will make them turn left, and backward will make them turn right. You should be able to move around the deck with this."

Steve stares at the cranks for a moment before glancing up at Eddie. When he receives an encouraging nod in response, he slowly turns the left crank forward, lighting up when the boat does, in fact, move forward a few inches.

He's so overwhelmed with joy that he can't help the notes bubbling in his throat, rising and rising until he can't hold them back anymore. Steve doesn't even think before singing, a wordless tune that conveys just how truly happy he is, one that would leave Robin flabbergasted because she's never heard this tune before.

Because this tune is for courting gifts. Like, really fucking fantastic courting gifts. The kind of gifts that blow everything else clear out of the water and leave a merperson dazed and bubbly and floating without any direction from sheer happiness, bubbles bursting through their gills in joyous patterns.

Steve has never sung this tune before, but he's not at all surprised that Eddie is the person who managed to coax it out of him.

-----

Eddie knew the boat would be a good idea, but now he's thinking it was the best idea he's ever had and ever will. Even after hours have passed, after Steve has watched the sun drop below the water and asked Eddie to carry him back to the cabin, complaining about his arms being sore from turning cranks, Eddie is still reeling.

He's never heard a more beautiful sound. Eddie keeps replaying the tune Steve sang in his head, frustrated with his inability to recreate it just right and too flustered to ask Steve to sing it again. Because he gets the feeling it was special, something that Steve can't just do at the drop of a hat, but something he did because of Eddie.

Eddie twists his fingers in the sheet covering him, turning his head to glance at the tub where Steve is leaning against the edge. His eyes are closed, but Eddie knows he isn't sleeping yet. Steve submerges his head when he sleeps.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie whispers, almost like he doesn't want Steve to hear so the comfortable silence continues.

Steve hears him anyway, of course, the flare of fin along the edge of his ear twitching slightly. He tilts his head a bit more, squishing his cheek against his arm, and somewhat lazily says, "Yeah, Eddie?"

Eddie turns onto his side, meeting Steve's gaze. "How'd you become a caretaker?" he asks. It's not the question he actually wants to ask; he wants to ask Steve to sing again, to let him drift to sleep to beautiful notes and lingering melodies.

He watches as Steve tenses slightly before forcing himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, his gills fluttering slightly before slowly exhaling. "A while ago, my pod had an...altercation with a pod from the southern seas. They kidnapped one of the guppies, Will, and the other guppies decided to rescue him. They snuck off one night and I followed them when I discovered what happened and..."

Steve trails off, frowning as he tilts his head to look at the small window, staring at the moon through the glass. "Well, long story short, there were lots of fights, our pod lost its previous caretaker, and we gained a new guppy the southern pod had captured. After everything, I couldn't let the guppies out of my sight, and they kept coming to me and Robin whenever they had problems. So, eventually, I just convinced Robin to be my partner and raise the guppies."

There's a lot going unsaid in that explanation, but Eddie knows better than to pry right now. Steve will tell him when he wants, and if he never wants to, that's fine, too. Eddie won't fault him for that. "Did you have a job before that?" he asks.

Steve hums softly, still beautiful and soft, but not at all the melody Eddie really wants to hear. "I used to scout for the pod," he says, "I would swim ahead and make sure an area was safe or find spots to rest when the pod traveled. When we stopped for long periods, I'd help gather food for the pod."

"You like caring for the guppies more," Eddie says, and it's not at all a question.

"Yeah," Steve replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The guppies are great."

"Tell me about them."

"Well, first is Dustin. He's a little sea urchin, always talking back and getting into trouble, but he's sweet. Will is usually pretty quiet, but he's got a great imagination. Mike always hangs around Will, and he's kind of a squid, but he's going through an awkward growth phase. Lucas is the most active of them, and he likes to shadow the scouters when he can. Erica is his little sister, and she doesn't let the others get away with anything. Max is daring and brash, she tends to dive head-first into stuff, but she's also really protective. El is quiet like Will, but she's really smart and really caring. They're such a handful. Robin and I never have a dull day."

His voice is trailing off toward the end, and Eddie knows he's just moments from falling asleep. "I'd like to meet them someday," Eddie says, his voice softer than before, the words spoken more to himself than Steve.

Of course, that doesn't stop Steve from hearing him anyway. He hums again, this one quieter, and groggily mumbles, "Of course you will, Eddie. That's part of the courting."

And then, like he hasn't essentially rocked Eddie's entire world, Steve slips down in the tub. He submerges his head in the water, and Eddie can hear the quiet murmur of bubbles rising to the surface and popping as Steve breathes.

Eddie stays frozen for a few minutes, staring at the tub, and suddenly wondering if, maybe, somebody somewhere happened to write a merperson courtship manual.

Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense

[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 6

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, smut (piv, emotional sex, praise kink), enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, baby fever, fluff!, typos, etc.

A/N: i said i'd end this on p5 but i think i'll be ending at p7 HAHHAH lol. originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds @the-queen-of-sorrows @minttea07 @fluffpudel @j3nn-1 @jelsasnowflakes1

"My lady," followed by high pitched barking made me turn around from where I sat in the garden.

Maester Yannick was walking over to me, with three puppies on his trail. He lifts his robe when he feels one of the critters nip at it. He hisses at them and tells them not to bite. Rose barks and takes it as a challenge.

I chuckle and shush her, raising a finger as I bend down to reinforce the discipline.

Rose looks at me then scurries off.

I straighten up on the bench as Yannick sits beside me. We both then turn to the soldiers in the making, training across the grounds of Brown Wood.

The Hound barks at them when they get their positions wrong.

"He is lovely today," Yannick tells me.

I turn to him and chuckle, but nod nonetheless.

He continues observing my husband, "he's been training long, hasn't he?"

"Mmm. Perhaps a couple hours," I look back at Sandor, "why? Do you think it is bad for his wounds?"

"I think it is bad for you," he looks at me.

I pull my head back, "me?"

The maester stands, "you are wasting precious time. Both of you are in good conditions," he links his hands together, "for the good of your house, it would be wise for you to be more... vigilant about producing heirs."

I feel my face drop and burn.

"As you know, my lady, the herbs I make for you are not cheap. It would be a shame to put them to waste due to a lack of effort."

I clear my throat and turn away from him.

Maester Yannick nods, "which reminds me, I will go and fetch you some tea right now."

I watch him walk away.

Once he was gone, my attention is averted back to Sandor. In truth, now more than ever has his hound persona been more apparent to me. Besides his fierceness, his snarling, his grit, the way he bared his teeth and howled at everyone, I could see his loyalty, his need to do good by the people in his life, his protectiveness, especially when it came to fighting, and his warmth.

I begin to think about Daisy. I turn to my side and watch as the pups begin to wreck the garden with their paws.

I find myself thinking about that night... that night when he said he loved me.

I rub my belly, not liking the way my stomach churned at my string of thoughts.

I watch as Sandor straightens up a boy, who was about to fall flat on his face, with one hand. He shakes his head at the child and says he can't fight if he's fighting himself too.

I imagine him speaking the same way to our son.

It was a horrible mistake. As quickly as I thought of it, I then remember telling him to give me a child by another woman.

I've set him free. He does not belong to me; in truth, he never did.

I quickly stand and wipe my face.

This was no longer leisure, this was torture.

I quickly run inside, retreating to my bedroom. Once I am there, I takes my shoes off, plop on my bed, and stare up at my ceiling. I look at the cobwebs in the distant corners and I wonder why I felt like crying but had no tears to shed. I lie there in silence, wishing nothing but to waste away.

I lift my head up from the sheets and turn to the door when I hear it open. I immediately stand and brush my skirts, "Sandor."

The feel of the cold floor on my bare feet send a shiver down my spine.

Sandor cautiously looks at me, "is everything alright?"

"Mmm?" I raise my brows, "what- why do you ask?"

"You ran inside and left your babes in the garden"

My lips part at his words. My hand instinctively comes to my belly.

"Pups," he raises a hand, "I meant pups. I didn't mean--"

Sandor is cut off by the voice of maester Yannick calling my name as he knocked on my door. Sandor opens the door for him and the old man enters, smiling when he sees the two of us. He is about to hand me the tea but then decides otherwise and puts it on my vanity.

He turns to Sandor, "I am pleased you decided to attend to your wife. Her fertility herbs are slowly being depleted. I was beginning to fear it would be for naught."

I grow frigid.

With that, the maester nods and exits, "please do enjoy each other's company."

The sound of the door closing leaves me red in the face. I lock eyes with Sandor then look away, clearing my throat. I flinch when he calls out my name.

I turn back and rub my arms, "yes... husband?"

"I didn't come here for that," he mutters, raising a hand cautiously.

My chest tightens. Of course not. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off before I could make a sound.

"I came to check if you're alright," he slowly steps forward.

I tense and nod, "I am well."

I feel my heart race when he takes another step towards me.

"Y-you needn't worry about me."

"I always worry about you," he mutters as he walks closer.

My words catch in my throat, "what?"

"Let me help you," he speaks, now only a few steps away from me.

My heart is pounding. I step back slowly, "h-help?"

"In the way only a man can," he lets out a heavy breath.

My calves hit the bed. I stop in my tracks and stand frozen. The Hound is now looking down at me. I am too overwhelmed by his presence to do anything else but stare.

The next thing I know, my gaze is drawn downward as he sits on the bed and peers up at my form.

"If you want a child from me," he whispers, "I'll give you one by no other woman but you." 

I look at him, heart in my mouth, body burning. I scratch my fingers and nod at his words.

Sandor sighs, "I need to hear you say it."

"I-" I shakily speak, "I want a child," I face him, "a child by you... my lord."

His brows knit.

My breath hitches when he touches my waist.

I can hear his heavy breathing as he whispers, "Sandor. Please."

I gulp as his palm rubs slowly across my belly. The action makes my skin prickle with goosebumps. My hand comes atop his. I oblige, "Sandor."

He gently tugs me in between his legs and my breath nearly escapes me. He rests his hands on my hips then pulls me in, sinking his face into my side. My ribs rattle with how quick my pulse was.

Sandor inhales deeply, "gods, you smell good."

I feel my body burn, "i-it's lavender oil."

I squeak when he pulls me down onto his lap. He cages me against him, my back flush against his chest. He sinks his face into my neck and slowly draws in a breath. His arms snake around me as he hotly speaks, "it's you, my pretty squirrel."

I feel his hands slowly lift my skirts up. My hands latch onto his arm that was still around my belly.

"Be calm, my wife, I cleaned up before coming here, in case I had to wipe your tears."

I make a sound as he knocks his nose into my jaw and exposes one of my legs to him. 

"I don't like it when you're upset."

My breath hitches, "I-I'm not upset."

"Good."

Sandor feels the goosebumps on my skin when his hand makes contact with my bare thigh. He shushes me as he rubs and kneads my flesh. I whimper and begin to squirm when his hand hikes up my inner thigh.

His fingers touch my clothed center. He breathes hotly against the pulse of my neck, "I'm going to take this off, mmm?"

I gulp and nod slowly at his words.

I maneuver with him when his hands come under my skirts to rid me of my smallclothes. He doesn't like the space that is created between us and rips me back into him. He ruts his hips into mine to add to his point.

I whine when Sandor's right hand rubs into my heat.

"Fuck," he hisses, "you've worked yourself up over nothing."

I make a louder noise when he prods his fingers into my pulsing entrance. I can feel his fingers slide with ease against my warm folds. I instinctively grip his arm when he sinks into me.

Sandor's other arm, in turn, tightens around me, "you can take it. You've taken more than my fingers, beautiful."

I whimper when he sinks another finger into me and begins to pump in and out. My breathing grows heavier and I throw my head back on his shoulder as he moves into me.

I feel his beard scratch into my neck. I feel his teeth graze lightly into my skin. His fingers languidly move in and out of me, even as I clench my thighs together. He makes no move to part them, and in truth, it doesn't hinder his movements at all.

I feel his tongue dart out on my neck, "I want to taste you."

I slowly lift my head from his shoulder just as he pulls his hand away from my thighs and brings his fingers into his mouth. I feel sobered by his action, taken aback by how filthy it was yet how eagerly he did it.

The next thing I know, he pulls back and lets my body fall in a space between his thighs. He quickly undoes his trousers. After, he pushes me onto my feet, and grips my hips. He rather impatiently rips up my skirts and I feel my thighs shake when he grips my bare flesh.

He pulls me back down on him, and I mewl when I feel his hardened length slip clumsily between my thighs, not yet entering me. I settle on him; the sensation of his clothes on my skin makes my belly roll.

"Fuck," he growls, as my thighs instinctively clamp around him. Sandor is unable to withhold the bucking of his hips.

When he does this, pleasure, crackling like embers, tingle up my body.

"Open up," he hisses, one hand coming between my legs, "I have to be inside you. I have to come inside, have to come inside your weeping cunny."

"Sandor," I whine as I slowly part my legs.

"I know, pretty squirrel. You're so worked up, for me," he breathes against my ear then nips at my lobe, "so fucking eager."

A drawn out whine escapes my lips when he sheathes himself into me.

He wastes no time in moving. I end up squeaking as he braces me against him and firmly thrusts upward into me.

My cries grow louder as his arms tighten beneath my breasts. I feel his hand knead one breast, but it doesn't last very long.

I am throttled onto my chest and pressed down on the sheets. Sandor lifted me up like I was nothing and adjusted me on the edge of the bed.

I'm barely on my tiptoes, as most of my weight was shifted on my spine from of how my husband was hoisting me up to cater to himself.

His movements quickly pick up the pace, and our position becomes reminiscent of the time he had me like this once before, only this time, his one hand was rubbing my scarred hip and he was much more vocal.

"Look at you, all bent over and mine," he groans.

I nails dig into the sheets.

"I'm gonna fill you up. You're going to be so fucking full of me."

I squeal into the sheets. The idea drives me wild. I plead into the bed but I don't think he hears it.

Just as I felt something begin to build in me, he slows.

I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them as Sandor drops one of my hips. I squeak when I feel him grab my shoulder and slowly turn me on my back.

My jaw drops; I breathe heavily through my mouth. Sandor looks down on me as his hands grip my sides. He pushes me upward and presses my legs by my ribs

He slowly thrusts into me, hands working their way across my body. He rubs my thighs, my belly, my breasts. His brows furrow, "fuck. So fucking soft and warm."

He massages my breasts then works his way up to my shoulders. His one hand rubs my neck before clutching my jaw. His other hand slides back down my hips. I whine when his thumb rubs circles around my sensitive nub. It makes my toes curl.

He sighs, "so fucking beautiful."

I whimper when his other thumb swipes my lips. I find myself licking at it. It makes him groan and buck into me faster.

I push my head back and arch my spine, "fuck- Sandor."

Both his hands land on my hips. He digs his nails into my flesh and begins to move deeper. Eventually, he sinks one hand down by the side of my head for support. My hands latch onto his hips.

"Come for me, pretty girl," he groans, "I'm not gonna last much longer."

I tug at his clothes.

"Be a good girl and come all over my cock, mmm. I want to feel you tighten around me-- get all messy and wet and loud and," he gives deliberate thrusts, "so fucking beautiful."

I whine, "Sandor, I want- I want to-"

I begin to tighten and shake against him. My legs wrap around him and my hands cling onto him for dear life. I find it futile to conceal my sounds, as I cannot find the strength to shut my mouth as I ride the feeling of bliss.

With a loud cuss, Sandor rams into me as deeply as he can. His movements are rough and slow. Both of his hands secured on my waist as he spills his seed into me.

I can feel him throb and can feel myself dripping with warmth.

Sandor takes his time, really drawing out the feeling before slowly coming to a halt. He lets out a final moan when he does stop then takes a deep breath.

I look at him as he closes his eyes and straightens up. My body burns when he looks down at me through hooded eyes and rubs my body again. He enjoys rubbing my breasts the most.

My hands come to his arms, and that seems to stop him.

I am about to tell him not to stop, but he speaks before I can, "wrap your legs round me."

In truth, I didn't have to do anything as he wraps my legs around himself and picks me up in his arms. I hook my feet around each other and am careful not to touch his blistered back as my hands go to his shoulders.

Sandor crawls up the bed with me clinging onto him; I feel the strength in his muscles as he moves. He sets me down on the pillows. He arranges one under my head and brings one beside me.

He looks at me for a moment then whispers, "I'm going to pull away now."

He waits for me to respond before doing anything.

In truth, the thought of him pulling away from me makes my body ache with sadness, but I slowly nod anyway.

I close my eyes as Sandor gently draws away from me. My emotions immediately overcome me in my vulnerable state. I rub my eyes when I feel tears build behind my lids. Sandor fixes my skirt and gathers my legs together. I feel him take the pillow beside me and stuff if bellow my bum.

"This will help keep my spend from dripping out."

His explanation makes my body burn.

I feel Sandor shuffle beside the bed and I hear him fixing his clothing.

I clench my jaw, dreading what I knew exactly was to come next.

I open my eyes when he calls my name. I look at him pathetically, noticing how his skin glowed with sweat, the last evidence that he was ever in me beyond his untucked shirt.

He reaches out to me and I really don't want to take his hand knowing he'll leave me after, so I don't.

I have no idea why he still grabs my hand. The action feels like a betrayal. He rubs my knuckles before kissing them. I chew my lip, feeling wronged over the fact he has never kissed my lips and probably never will.

"I will be leaving now," he mutters.

His words gut me, as always. 

I rip my hand out of his and turn away from him, "very well."

Sandor knits his brows at the sharp withdrawal. He was gentle was he not? Still, he's being turned away.

His mouth goes dry. He slowly steps back, "I..."

I turn my body away from him. I draw in a deep breath and try to make my voice as even as possible, "thank you, Sandor."

Sandor flinches. He steps back some more, "I-I'll bring your dogs here for company."

I chuckle dryly. Company. My voice breaks, "I'm tired."

Sandor's mouth twitches. He backs all the way up to the door, "I'll let you rest then."

I cover my face with my arm and hum in agreement, not trusting myself to speak anymore.

The moment I hear the click of the door, I begin to sob. I whine as his words replay in my head. How could he tell me such things, call me beautiful and say he wants me, then leave me right after? How could he touch me like that then want nothing to do with me?

I pull the pillow from underneath my head and wail into it.

Sandor, who couldn't find it in himself to step away from the door, decides not to walk back in when he hears the crying. His belly curdles with self-loathing. He feels like he's going to choke because of how hurt the noise sounded, nevermind how lovely it was seconds ago; it meant for nothing.

He walks away trying to figure out where he went wrong. He relives every touch, every sound in his memory. His eyes water when he comes to the dreadful realization it must have been horrible being with him. He forced his wretched looks onto an unwilling witness.

He gulps as he sniffles and wipes his face in frustration. He feels like walking into the forest, never to be seen again, but then he steps out to the garden and hears small barking sounds. He looks at the three pups, playing with the boys, who should have been training, and feels his heart twist.

He finds himself imagining what the scene would've been like if Daisy was here... if his pretty squirrel-- he shuts the thought away.

I knock on Sandor's office door and enter when he tells me to come in.

He looks up, does a double take, then immediately stops doing whatever it was he was doing. He clears his throat, "Lady Clegane."

His words pierce through me. He's never called me that before. I close the door and walk towards him, "Lord husband. Good morrow to you. Where is Andrew?"

His shoulders tense, "he... should be here any minute."

I nod as I halt in front of his desk, "he has gotten good enough at reading and balancing coin, I hope?"

Sandor sighs, "yes."

I notice the crumbs on his beard, then I notice a plate on his desk. He must have broken fast here. I fidget with my fingers and wipe my chin, hoping he would get the message. He doesn't. I decide not to note on it and simply get to the point, "maester Yannick said your wounds have dried up, and that if you liked, you could go on your rounds again."

Sandor nods and straightens in his chair, "I think I'll start once I'm confident in the bloke balancing our coin."

I nod slowly and link my hands together, "alright," I shift in my spot and turn to the door.

I look back at him and feel my body burn under his scrutiny. I offer a smile, "that is all I wanted to say," I rub my hands together, "-wanted to check on you."

I gasp when he jumps out of his chair.

I clutch my chest and stare at him. He had an arm raised and reached out to me. It dawns on me he said something but it was too quick for me to catch.

I release a breath, "pardon?"

Sandor lowers his hand, rolls his shoulders back, and clears his throat, "I... I asked how you're doing."

It takes me a few moments to realize the meaning of his words. I shift and my spot and rub my chest. I feel my neck burn when he further clarifies his question.

"Yesterday, when we... bedded, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I draw out a deep breath and smile softly, "you were... gentle with your touches."

Sandor is unsatisfied.

I aimlessly look around, "and, anyway, I am not as fragile as you think."

He purses his lips and tilts his head. He takes a moment before speaking, and when he does, he does so hesitantly, "I was afraid I made my pretty wife weep again."

I instinctively let out a laugh, but it was clearly unamused and pained. I feel like I was being scorched alive when I look at him looking at me. I shake my hands, suddenly in denial, "no, I was quite satisfied!"

Sandor's eyes widen a fraction.

Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. What am I saying?

He blinks twice and wipes his mouth. Finally his crumbs fall off. He mutters, "that's... good."

I release my final chuckle. He turns to his desk, fixes some things, then looks back to me. He looks like he means to smile but he doesn't, "I'm glad."

He slowly sits down afterwards.

I feel like I'm being weighed down by anchor.

That was it. That was the conversation.

Sandor is no longer looking at me. He shuffles the paper into a file and I slowly begin to feel the air around us thicken.

He sets the parchment down and darts his eyes to me. He purses his lips again and I catch the way his face twitches. He opens his mouth and slowly points to the door, "if that's all... I would not keep you."

I don't know why I laugh again, but I do. It's not even funny. I feel like being stabbed would have been better, more amusing at this point. I curtsy at him and shuffle backwards, "of course. I do not mean to keep you either."

Sandor feels sick. He clenches his fists and turns to his desk. He breathes in deeply, trying not to rile himself up any more than he already was. Gods knew he would use all his strength to keep this room locked.

I walk towards the door and turn the knob. I feel a wave of tears threatening to spill, and I slap my mouth when a squeak leaves me.

Sandor is immediately alerted. He looks up and pushes himself on the edge of the seat, "what?"

I turn to the ground and wipe my face. I take two seconds for myself then turn to him. I cover up with a chuckle, "I said... y-your beard."

Sandor immediately rubs his beard.

I chuckle louder, trying to convince myself that I actually found it funny, "you have crumbs on your beard."

Sandor looks at me like I grew another head.

I laugh enough that I actually start laughing at myself.

When I stop, the silence is loud.

Sandor clears his throat and cautiously asks, "you find that funny?"

My stomach drops when I see the red tinge of his ears. I walk up to his side and shake my head, "wait, no- I- I didn't mean it like that."

Sandor shakes his head and offers me a quick and small smile, "it's fine. I just wasn't expecting that from you," he looks back to his desk, "anyway, I'm used to it."

I feel like my entrails were being grinded.

A line forms in his brows, "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before."

"I wasn't laughing at you!" I whimper under my breath. The air in my lungs begin to catch in my throat as I exhale, "I was just- I ju-"

Sandor turns to me, face slipping when he catches my teary eyes.

He stands and takes my shoulders.

I blink my tears away and smile in an attempt to calm myself. I am glad I do not shed a tear. I speak through a loud breath, "I'm just nervous when I'm around you!"

Sandor immediately releases me. He sighs through his nostrils, "scared, you mean."

I shake my head and take his shoulders, "nervous."

The Hound seizes up like there was a knife to his neck. I take a moment to look at him and pull back.

I cannot deny it hurt when he immediately steps away from me.

I really should have left at this point, but my mouth had a mind of its own. I furrow my brows and give him an earnest look, "I can trim your beard for you."

He steps back one last time, then looks at me as if I now had three heads.

I realize my mistake, "if-if you want me to. I'm not saying you should, I'm just offering to-"

"You want to do that for me?"

I turn to stone. I look around nervously, "mmm... o-only if you'd have it... ... my lord."

Sandor's face twitches. He sighs and slumps forward. He furrows his brows, "you'd be staring at my face the whole time."

I watch him as he rummages through his things.

My stomach rolls again and I step back, "ah... I see."

Sandor stops to look at me.

"If you do not feel comfortable, I will not..."

My words run dry when he pulls out shears. I watch him as he straightens up. He grips the tool in his hand, "it's you I'm worried about."

I look up at him, not knowing what to say.

"I don't mean to scare yo-"

"I'm not scared of you," I mutter.

Sandor stares at me. After a moment, he slowly takes my hand and hands me the shears, "maybe you should be."

My chest pounds at fleeting touch.

I cut his beard in the garden, as I didn't want to make a mess in his office.

He sits on the bench there.

The breeze blows at both our hair.

"You needn't touch me so gently, girl," he says, "it will take a lot of you to hurt me."

I do not change the manner in which I touch his cheek. I can feel Sandor looking at me, but I do not avert my attention away from his beard, "just because you do not hurt easily doesn't mean I cannot be gentle with you, Hound."

The Hound reaches out to my thighs when my foot rolls on a rock. I barely even fidget, but, still, he holds me in place to keep me from a potential fall. He does not release me. I gulp when I feel his thumb rub my skirt.

"You can hurt me if you like," he says.

I pull back and furrow my brows, "would you like that?"

He grinds his lower lip in his teeth. He debates for a moment and I decide to snip his mustache. I shush him when he tries to speak. He purses his lips tightly.

A moment passes with just the sound of cutting.

"I wouldn't want to cut your lips off," I shift in front of him, still ever so aware of his touch of my thighs, "you still need them to kiss."

I pull away to check if his mustache was straight. I notice his expression, dumbfounded, and continue snipping. I sigh, "that was a jest."

I pull away and again and move to the other side. Sandor still keeps his hands on me. He looks at me as I gently move his head.

I add, "I'm quite funny actually."

He chuckles lowly.

It makes my heart flutter.

He smiles, "oh, I don't doubt it, little girl."

I flatten my lips into a line, unsure if he was serious or not. I trim the hair by his jaw.

"You must like kissing then."

I freeze in my spot. I stop what I was doing, then continue, "what do you mean?"

He pulls his hands away. I watch him link them together and rest them on his lap. He shrugs, "you thought of kissing."

"Do you like kissing?"

I place a hand on my hip. He turns to me and shrugs again, "s'fine."

I furrow my brows and mimic his shrug, "well, you've never kissed me, so I wouldn't really know, would I?"

"You've never kissed a man before?"

"No," I impatiently respond, "I've kissed you, but you did not kiss me back," I take a few last cuts off his beard, "on our wedding day, remember?"

I see Sandor's look of disbelief when I finish and brush him off. Specks of hair fly off with the wind.

"You never kissed a little lord in secret as a little girl?"

"Only a big lord," I make a face, "as according to you I still am a little girl."

He stands from where he sat and peers down at me.

I purse my lips and cross my arms. I shrug, "point taken."

His brown eyes glimmer with confusion. I find myself raising my brows. Just as he is about to speak-

"MILORD, MILADY!"

We turn to the three young men walking over to us. I recognize them as Sandor's training apprentices. They push each other as I turn and smile at them.

"Good morn', lady!" Harry says, bowing exaggeratedly at me, "your dress is very rambunctious."

I furrow my brows at his words and find myself chuckling, "uhhh, thank you?"

Sandor raises his brows and curls his lips.

Daniel slaps Harry behind the head, "YOU MUG, D'YA KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, EVEN?"

Harry hisses and shoves Daniel, "DON'T HIT ME!"

Daniel gets shoved again when he incidentally elbows Richard, "OI, WATCH IT!"

The boys begin to quarrel. 

I step back before they can accidentally hit me, in turn, knocking my back into Sandor's.

"Enough!" the Hound barks, making the three brothers, or at least they acted like that, stop and turn to him.

My eyes widen at the sound of the Hound telling the boys off. I watch each of them tense as their Lord Clegane goes on a whole speech about biting off more than they can chew, and that, "if you lot want to act all tough around me, know I'll knock all three of your egg-heads with my hands tied."

I turn to the Hound, "Sandor."

He lets out a deep breath then eyes the three before him, "fuck off."

The boys immediately scram.

I bend over and grip my hips as I catch my breath. Lucy laughs at me as she beckons the puppies over with a stick. They come running over then she throws the stick for them to chase.

I huff, "these pups will be the death of me."

Lucy snorts, "and here I thought you wanted children."

I glare at her as the three small dark furred creatures begin to chase her around the garden as she runs. I call out in offence, "I do!"

Lucy runs over to me, "well, don't you know babes are far worse that this!" 

She giggles when she grabs my shoulders and uses me as a shield for the dogs. Though I was still winded, I laugh with her as the puppies prance around me. I grab Lucy's arm and begin to wrangle with her, "at least my babes will learn to speak. These pups know no sense!"

Lucy pushes me forward, encouraging me, "no, no, go on, s'your time to run, milady!"

I whine, "I really can't, Lucy."

"Oh, come on, lovie, you used to be full of energy! You're actin' as old as maester Yannick."

I hold back a laugh and shoot Lucy a look.

She shoots one back, "what? Did I lie?"

"Girls."

Lucy and I stop and turn to whom spoke. Sandor looks at us the way he always did, scrutinizing and serious.

I straighten up and nod in regard, "my lord."

Sandor sighs and looks away with annoyance. Wind blows his hair, adding effect to his expression. He looks down when the puppies begin to run towards him. They stand on their hind legs, pant, and bark. I swear I saw his exterior break into fondness.

But then he looks at me and it's all gone, "this came for you." He holds out a letter to me between his fingers, "I don't recognize the house sigil."

I walk up to him, smoothening my skirt out, then take the letter. I look at the wax seal for only a second then open the letter.

Sandor watches me raise my brows. He chuckles.

Lucy watches Sandor smile softly before purposefully frowning.

I look up at my husband, "it's from house Alistair."

Sandor's face scrunches up, "never heard of it."

I huff and delay my response to stop the puppies from chewing at the Hound's trousers. Sandor watches as I do this and gently shakes the puppies away. He takes my arm, preventing me from bending down, "I don't mind. They're just pups."

I give him a look, "if I don't stop them now when they're tiny, nothing will stop them when they're big."

Sandor watches as I sternly tell off the puppies and shoo them away. He chuckles at it, but then freezes when Lucy chuckles as well. The two make eye contact. Sandor doesn't have time to react.

"Cedric."

He turns to me, face contorting, "what?"

The puppies run off and Lucy runs along with them. I continue to explain, "Cedric is from House Alistair. You know, the lord that gave us a place to stay. You called him pretty bo-"

"I remember the fucker," he snaps.

I tense.

The Hound's nostrils flare, "what does he want?"

Suddenly, the letter in my hand feels heavy. I shrug, "he's invited us to his nameday celebration."

Sandor scoffs, "you mean he's invited you."

I release a frustrated huff when he begins to walk away. I follow after him and open the letter. I clear my throat and read aloud, "Fair greetings to Brown Wood, the home of House Clegane. May this letter find you in good spirits and health."

Sandor rolls his eyes as he walks back inside. He makes no haste, but I do, in order to keep up with him. I continue, "Seven days from now, I, Cedric Alistair, will be celebrating my--"

"I don't fucking care, little girl," he stops in his tracks and turns to me.

I nearly collide with him, but I gladly don't. I purse my lips and continue anyway, skipping to the part that holds my point, "if the Lord and Lady Clegane be so courteous in taking time out of their day to attend my feast, I would gladly-"

"Do you want to go, squirrel?"

I look up at him, blinking at the sight of his stern expression. I have to say, the omission of the word pretty for his petname made it feel... wrong. I clutch the letter by my belly, "he hosted us, me, Lucy... Daisy, even you, when we had nowhere to go. I think it only proper to attend his nameday to show appreciation and respect."

Sandor's eye twitches. He looks away and sighs.

I chew my lower lip, "he was kind to us, Sandor. I only mean to-"

"Fine," he cuts me off, "but if he touches you," he walks off, "I'm going to kill him."

His statement make my stomach churn. I cannot for the life of me understand what the intent of his words are. I chase after him again, "what if he asks me to dance with him?"

Sandor chuckles dryly, "a fine reason to chop him up."

He stops when I grab his arm. He looks at my hand on his bicep then gives me a look as I say, "you cannot kill him."

Sandor places his hand atop mine, "then don't fucking dance with him."

He squeezes my hand but it is not rough at all. It's gentle and extremely warm. He doesn't even try to pry my grip off, in fact, it's like he was tightening it on hm. My lips part and my body begins to burn.

I then realize when he was close enough for me to feel his breathing that he had been leaning in. I catch the way his eyes dart down to my mouth. I find myself slowly pressing my lips together.

I close my eyes when Sandor comes close to my cheek. I swear I felt my heart leap into my mouth when he pressed his face against mine.

He draws in a deep breath then sighs, "have you ever seen a hound share?"

The silence between us is deafening.

"Hmm?" he hums.

I open my mouth but nothing but mindless sounds leave me.

"I don't even think your pups do that."

My breath catches in my throat when he I feel his beard and his lips press gently against the crook of my neck.

Then the next moment, he releases me and pulls away like nothing happened.

We stare at each other for the longest second of my life. I feel like I'm on fire. What's worse is that I don't think he realizes just how affected I am, or actually... maybe it was good he couldn't tell I was dying inside.

"Still," he nods, "a dog is a dog and I will do as my master commands."

I feel light headed when he walks away.

I clutch my belly and walk to the nearest surface for support. I rub my neck, wondering if that really just happened.

[nonsensical-pixels]

have a bunch of requests, suggestions, and other cas-related 4t2 conversions that i've had lying around (and previously unuploaded to tumblr) for awhile now! these aren't specifically related to one another, thematically, but it felt wrong to space out their uploads over months and months when i've got so much time on my hands now, so i just threw them all in one big dump and you can have them all at once! yay! merry early christmas 🎄

there are 10 items total, 5 for males, 5 for females. 4 accessories, 6 hairs. some have been uploaded previously in the requests channel of the simscord, others i made over time to add to my veronaview playthrough. most are for teens to elders (one of the hairs is for kids, too) and i've included previews in all of the folders for each item. more info under the cut; this is going to be a very, very long post!

DOWNLOAD: SFS | MF 🌟

credits go to ea/maxis, @ice-creamforbreakfast, @birksche, @thatonegreenleaf, gramsims (deactivated?), @pepperoni-puffin, and @wistfulpoltergeist for the original ts4 meshes & textures of these conversions! and to @antoninko for the afterglow hair system, which all of the hairs come in 💘

FEMALE ACCESSORIES

4T2 ICE-CREAMFORBREAKFAST DEIRDRE GLASSES (sorry for typo! 2864 polys, 24 swatches, tf-ef only 4T2 ICE-CREAMFORBREAKFAST IRIS EARRINGS 1264 polys, 5 swatches, tf-ef only

MALE ACCESSORIES

4T2 EP06 MONOCLE 1140 polys, 4 swatches, tm-em only 4T2 BG EAR HOOPS 264 polys, 3 swatches, tm-em only

FEMALE HAIRS

4T2 PEPPERONIPUFFIN RILEY HAIR (suggested by @daydreamingdrawerette) 3279 polys, in the afterglow hair system, tf-ef only, smooth-boned & animated 4T2 THATONEGREENLEAF DIYA HAIR (suggested by @grilledcheese-aspiration) 11647 polys, in the afterglow hair system, tf-ef only, smooth-boned & animated 4T2 GRAMSIMS 80'S BALLAD HAIR (reuploaded by @ice-creamforbreakfast) 11790 polys, in the afterglow hair system, tf-ef only, smooth-boned & animated

MALE HAIRS

4T2 ICE-CREAMFORBREAKFAST SAUL HAIR 9992 polys, in the afterglow hair system, tm-em only, smooth-boned & animated 4T2 BIRKSCHE CHRISTOPHER HAIR (requested by @daydreamingdrawerette) 6084 polys, in the afterglow hair system, cm-em only, smooth-boned & animated 4T2 WISTFULCASTLE LOST TIME HAIR 4360 polys, in the afterglow hair system, tm-em only, smooth-boned & animated

i'll probably make another dump of downloads in january, when i'm settled in at pre-university. for now, enjoy!

if there are any issues that you find with this dump, please don't be afraid to let me know! happy simming, and when you download this, do keep in mind,

( @4t2clay | @the-afterglow-archive )

[crispywisp]

managed to find a cel and its matching sketch from my favorite scene in lupin iii: farewell to nostradamus (showing the tagalog dub with my translation because it's genuinely great, also "defective" is not a typo, it's lupin's nickname for detective zenigata in this dub lmao)

being able to obtain a cel that i instantly recognized from a movie/scene i love was one of the things on my bucket list, so im extremely happy to have found this!!

more photos and notes about the artwork under the cut:

the cel and sketch came in one packet, i was initially pretty worried because the package didn't have any sort of hard surface like cardboard to prevent it from bending a lot, but fortunately it's in great condition

whoever previously owned this stapled the cel to the sketch (😭), so i was bracing for the cel's paint to be stuck to the paper since it's 20+ years old, but i let out the biggest fucking sigh of relief when i saw that it was miraculously still separated, so i went ahead and carefully removed the staple

back of the cel

close ups of the cel (zenigata's legs are completely cropped out in the final film, a very strong clue that this is authentic)

the cel shows very early stages of vinegar syndrome (slight deterioration on the cel structure, though no wrinkling, and super faint vinegar smell) and has light fading in the lineart, but it's still pretty well preserved for its age (made around 1994 or 1995), this cel will have to be stored separately from the rest of my collection to prevent it from spreading to them

close up on the sketch

back of the sketch, you can see the tiny pieces of paint from the cel stuck on here

this is most likely a key drawing rather than a breakdown or inbetween drawing based on the circle around "13" in the top right corner of the sketch (breakdowns are usually marked by a line underneath the number, inbetweens are usually unmarked); im surprised this cel didn't cost more since it's a really nice key drawing from a feature film, but im guessing it was cheaper since it's zenigata and not the other main cast characters

there is a tiny timing chart near the bottom, i've reached out to my animation lead co-worker to ask if she knows what this indicates since im not very confident in reading timing charts yet haha, will update this note once she gets back to me

EDIT: my co-worker has responded, she said that the timing chart on the sketch is most likely a very simplified version of a quarter timing, here is her note:

some more tiny notes on the sketch, if anyone knows what the japanese notes say, let me know!

EDIT: my co-worker also said that the X's in the sketch most likely indicate that those are empty areas, telling whoever is doing the cleanup to not color in those spots (i had noticed afterwards that there are more X's in other spots that are meant to be empty, so she's definitely on the money)

EDIT: @cultistzenyatta has informed me that the japanese note should read "shirt" シャツ, as in to distinguish between zenigata's coat and shirt sleeve for cleanup to color in

and here's the artwork in their separate storage packets, gonna add them to the portfolio binder :D

(also, im currently creating my own site to showcase my cel and sketch collection all in one place, so i'll make a post about it once it's nearly done 🙂)

[voxofthevoid]

April Anniversary Final List

I've compiled the 15 fics/ideas you guys picked in response to this post into a detailed list (under the cut). The numbers (51, 43, etc.) are now obsolete because I've added another idea to the list—yes, the total is 94 now, 77 untouched—and plan to keep doing it, which will alter the numbers owing to the way they're organized by ship(s). The doc will stay publicly available (...though I should really go through it and fix all the typos and errors).

Like I said in the OG post, I want to write a scene of approximately 1k for each of these. That's easy enough, usually, but I also want these to be coherent, standalone scenes—connected to the overall fic 'verse, yes, but a self-contained short story nonetheless. And we all know that's not my forte. So, yeah, it's gonna be a hell of a challenge.

These WIPs are not getting struck from my list once I'm done though. I'll be poking at them later, the way I do now—one at a time, until I'm out of the fandom.

Also, the usual disclaimer: If health/IRL fuckery pops up, I'll postpone or cancel the project. Hoping that won't happen, but you never know.

#1. 51 @nearalways

Canonverse pet play featuring a developing relationship, in which Yuuji jokingly says Gojou’s like a puppy and Gojou takes it and runs with it. Yuuji discovers the dubious joys of pet ownership.

#2. 43 @naeldeus

Satoru and her bigass tits single-handedly turn Yuuji from an ass woman into a chest woman, and Satoru’s reaction to Yuuji staring at her tits is to basically smother Yuuji in them in the guise of a hug. It escalates predictably.

#3. 31 @fluffys-nightmare

Yuuji makes a binding vow with the Angel to let her kill him and Sukuna after Gojou’s unsealed, except it doesn’t go as planned and the end result is Yuuji and Sukuna completely merged.

#4. 55 @laughing-sock

A curse user’s failed technique leaves Yuuji with a plush-like replica of Gojou, which Gojou lets him keep. It’s harmless until Yuuji accidentally activates a connection between the doll and Gojou.

#5. 36 (anon)

Sukuna kills the Angel so they can’t unseal Gojou. Teen!Gojou drops into the timeline and retrieves the PR, but they can’t open it. Yuuji has complicated emotional sex with teen!Gojou and spends every spare hour gazing plaintively at the PR. Teen!Gojou is in it mostly for the sex at first, except that doesn’t last.

#6. 45 (anon)

Post-canon where defeating Sukuna still leaves Yuuji with all his loved ones dead. He’s trying to busy himself by helping rebuild society when a new 6E+Limitless user is born, named “Satoru” to honor the last one, and a few years later, the Gojou clan asks for him to be the kid’s bodyguard.

#7. 71 (anon)

Gojou dubcons Megumi in his dorm room while mocking him about his crush on Yuuji, and when Yuuji bursts in after hearing concerning noises, Gojou offers Megumi to him.

#8. 67 @yaoshifollower

Canonverse breakup-makeup AU in a no-Shibuya context, spanning the time from Yuuji’s first year to his early-mid twenties. The sukuita parts are hatesex culminating in cannibalism; goyuu is the endgame.

#9. 03 @lo-55

Gojou tries to seduce Yuuji by rapebaiting him—sleeping on and near him in provocative clothing. Yuuji resists until he doesn’t.

#10. 73 (anon)

Yuuji semi-accidentally seduces Higuruma after their fight in the Culling Games, and during the one-month time skip after Gojou’s unsealed, he manages to semi-accidentally romance both men to the point of inevitable heartache.

#11. 74 @kubo-chan

Pre-canon where Kenjaku pays their favorite child a few in-person visits, finds that Yuuji’s body is rejecting Sukuna’s fingers, and lets their scientific curiosity run a little wilder than usual. Years later, Gojou finds Yuuji while investigating unusual curse activity.

#12. 08 @cunt-recesses

Omegaverse-canonverse alpha/alpha where 20-something Gojou adopts Yuuji, who was being raised by a Sukuna-focused cult.

#13. 50 @zalondra

Omegaverse-canonverse alpha/alpha where becoming Sukuna’s vessel triggers Yuuji’s rut early, a couple of days after he’s accepted into Jujutsu Tech, and since the higher-ups aren’t willing to risk Sukuna’s vessel losing control during that hormonal mess, Gojou volunteers to help him through it.

#14. 42 (anon)

Someone makes the mistake of letting Gojou teach sex-ed to the first-years. It’s a pretty typical class for Nobara and Megumi, but Yuuji's living a different porn scenario every week.

#15. 24 (anon)

Sukuna–Yuuji role reversal where Yuuji’s more interested in his vessel’s teacher than the vessel himself, and Gojou gets too much of a thrill from playing with fire.

[arson4kids]

♡ Ellie hc's ♡

WARNINGS - SFW + NSFW. I'll keep the NSFW at the bottom just in case <3

WC - about 770

a/n - I don't really post shit like this on tumblr so sorry in advance lmao. Not 100% proof read so please excuse any typos.

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♡ She's 100% the type to run up the stairs after turning the light off. She's convinced there's gonna be something down there. She'd look at you all like "Holy shit did you see that??" ♡ Unhealthy attachment to dinosaurs. She's bored? She's reading about dinosaurs. She has a final project due? She's making it about dinosaurs. Needs something to talk about? She's gonna start off a conversation with "Did you know that one dinosaur.." ♡ Super cuddly with you. She claims she can't sleep unless she has an arm around you or her head on your chest. ♡ Speaking of sleeping, she sleeps in ungodly sleeping positions. Like, these positions weren't known to man until she somehow discovered it. She's sleeping at an 90° angle with one leg over you and somehow she's fine in the morning?? ♡ Longest fucking playlist. This girl has 500+ songs in one playlist. While she denies it, she can sing half of them effortlessly because she's memorized the lyrics. "Can you sing this one??" "What? No, that's fucking weird." (of course she can.) ♡ Cat person. She likes dogs and all, but they're...too much for her. Cats match her energy. She can be drawing and playing guitar without having to worry about her pet tearing up her room. ♡ She spends hours learning songs on the guitar just because you brought up liking a song in passing to her. "The guitar in this song is so catchy. I can't get it out of my head." She'd just hum like she didn't really care, when in reality, she was already planning out where to find the tabs online and how long it'd take her to learn it. She'd surprise you with it weeks later and when you'd ask where she learnt it she'd just shrug. ♡ She sleeps in the most random places. If she's tired, she's gonna crash wherever she can. The couch. Your room. The hayloft in the barn. You name it, she's probably slept there at least once.

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♡-> NSFW HC's <-♡ ♡ She loves your tits. She's always staring at them. Whenever you guys are out, she finds a way to sneak in a glance at them. ♡ She wants to be a dom, but sometimes she gets nervous and chokes. What if she's doing it wrong? What if she's hurting you? You have to give her a pep talk before she does anything. ♡ Loves eating you out. She does it like her life depends on it. She loves it so much to the point where she's begging you just to get a taste. ♡ Likes to take her time with you. Slow is the only way to go in her mind. If you protest or whine, she leaves and tells you to figure it out by yourself. "Ellie, that's not fucking fair. You can't just leave." "You've got two hands of your own. Figure it out." ♡ She's always smacking your ass. Out in public? She's finding a way to smack your ass at some point. And this isn't just a friendly thing either. This is the full goddamn wind up. ♡ She has a strap and it's 100% pink. I don't make the rules, sorry. ♡ If you've bent down to reach something, she's behind you holding your hips and fake fucking you. This girl has no shame. ♡ If she's mad at you, she's mocking your moans. She doesn't care how much it may upset or embarrass you. ♡ She loves to prove you wrong. "It won't fit." "Don't worry baby, I'll make it fit." ♡ She doesn't care where you two are. She'll fuck you in the back of her car if she has to. ♡ She won't admit it, but she loves the way you ride her strap. It makes her weak as hell watching you. ♡ Speaking of, as much as she loves it when you ride her, she never knows where to put her hands. On your ass? On your hips? Maybe your tits? Because of this she ends up awkwardly leaving them at her sides or clasping them in front of her like it's some sort of important meeting. ♡ AMAZING aftercare. This girl doesn't let you move a muscle. She's cleaning you up, getting you dressed, spooning you, anything to make you feel better and help you relax. "Are you tired? I can tuck ya in if you want." "I think six feet under is on if you want to watch some of it while you fall asleep." "Are you hungry? I'm an amazing chef y'know." "I've got popsicles in the fridge if you want one."

[rintarousgirl]

i wanna be yours — 5. star treatment

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou

a/n: ik this chapter is a bit short, and that it's a bit overdue but i've been so busy LMAO. p.s i know about the typo in oikawa's post shh. anyways, i hope you all enjoy lovies!

You woke up in bed with a splitting headache, the pounding pain behind your eyes being near unbearable. A weak groan escaped your mouth as you threw a hand over your eyes to block the sun.

Thankfully, drunk you had the courtesy of leaving a glass of water and an aspirin on the bed side table. Slowly, squinting as your eyes struggled to adjust to the light, you swallowed down the aspirin and took big mouthfuls of water to ease your dry throat.

As you think to recall last night, you stand up to change out of your clothes. You're sweaty, but you notice that you are wearing a change of clothes. They're a bit baggy on you, clearly made for someone a lot taller than you were. You rub your head, trying to recall what had happened.

"You're covered in flour," Rintarou points out from his spot at the counter. You glare at him, before looking down to your soiled clothes.

"I never said I was a clean cook. The messier it is, the better it tastes."

He hums non-committedly and takes a sip from his tea. "I'll go steal some clothes from Osamu, stay here."

"Where am I supposed to go?" You huff and turn back to your pizza.

Right, you had made homemade pizza with Rintarou. So, you were now wearing Osamu's clothes. Lovely. From before that though your memory goes iffy. You struggle to remember a good amount of it, as if you'd blacked out or something. Which technically you probably had. You remember vomiting, and hanging out with Suna for the rest of the night till you were sober enough to drive yourself home.

After peeling off your clothes and showering, you head back into your room. Your studio apartment was small, which meant you had communal washing and drying. You'd make sure to wash Osamu's clothes as quickly as possible.

Picking up your phone, your eyes widen at the surplus of notifications. You had over thirty text messages, and over thirty thousand notifications from twitter. You could get used to a lot of twitter notifications with your business, but all that in one night seemed impossible to you.

With slightly trembling hands, you opened twitter, feeling a pit grow in your stomach as you scrolled through your notifications.

Despite all the negative posts from fans, you find yourself smiling at the pictures from last night. After making pizza, you and Rintarou had joined the others, dancing and playing games until everyone was either black out drunk or exhausted. You also remember doing karaoke with Yachi, laughing at the video of the two of you that Atsumu had posted.

Exiting twitter, you switch to your messaging app. You notice a few short messages between you and Rintarou, and that you'd gotten Yachi and Osamu's numbers in your phone at one point. Instead, you look at the texts from your friends.

Sighing, you gnaw on your lip. You send a quick to Kenma, Bokuto, and Kuroo assuring them that you were okay and that you'd explain later before pressing on the call button.

It rings only once before Akaashi picks up. "Y/N? Are you alright?" are the first words out of his mouth, and you swallow softly with a sigh. You collapse back down on your bed, rubbing at your eyes.

"I'm alright, 'Kash. Don't worry."

He huffs. "You could've told me that last night."

"I know, I'm really sorry. I, uh, I went to an after party and I got a bit drunk."

That quiets him a bit. "You never get drunk. Not really at least."

"I know," you groan, feeling a bit more regret seep into you. "I was being stupid, okay? I'm sorry I didn't text you or anything. I know you worry a lot."

"It's alright. You're an adult, Y/N. I just...I wouldn't want you to get hurt when I could've done something about it."

"Well, don't worry. I don't plan on doing that again anytime soon. I mean...I embarrassed myself plenty."

There's a teasing tone to Akaashi's next words. "I saw. Kuroo went crazy when he found out you were working for INARIZAKI. I managed to convince him not to harass you about it though. You puked on him, huh?"

"Thanks," you say dryly, "but don't remind me." You drag a hang down your face, shame burning on your cheeks. "It was so bad. But technically, I puked in the bowl so not on him."

"That's still bad."

"I'm going to hang up on you. Why can't we talk about like...I don't know, the pizza or something."

Akaashi laughs, and you find yourself smiling despite it all. "Whatever let's talk about your adventures in person. Favorite cafe at three?"

You hum. "Favorite cafe at three," you confirm.

As you're getting ready, your phone dings with a text message. Absent-mindedly you pick it up and open it.

<- previous | next -> | masterlist

★ - suna was not very chill when he sent that text. he was on the other side of the screen acting like a nervous wreck

★ - osamu's the smaller twin compared to atsumu seeing as atsumu still did have his vb career, just not as long. that's why his clothes aren't completely baggy on y/n (and are what she's wearing in the photo on suna's twt)

★ - akaashi spent most of the night awake waiting for you to text him till bokuto eventually convinced him to sleep for at least a few hours

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

taglist:

@mannaornot \ @gojoscumslut \ @sunarots \ @alienvarmint \ @tojirin \ @tkooooop \ @cheriesdear \ @shotenvinsoot \ @wolffmaiden \ @riiceandsoup \ @thebrownemo \ @vivian-555 \ @effmigentlywithachainsaw \ @rukia-uchiha-98 \ @weird0o0 \ @seiamor \ @rory-cakes \ @blue-violin \ @reveusecherie \ @hellokittylover9 \ @yourlocal-bunny \ @keniza \ @cerberuspuppy1 \ @baramii \ @kirbyscreeper

[bultaoreunheyyy]

It’s not a mountain, it’s a butte (1/2) 

Title: It’s not a mountain, it’s a butte (1/2)

Word Count: 5451

Summary: Jungkook loves hiking. He absolutely loves being in nature– even if nature does not love him back. And today, on a very rare occasion, all six of his best friends are joining him for a short hike that he’s been planning for months. It does not go quite as planned.

Sickie: Jungkook (snz, allergies, asthma) 

Caretakers: OT7

A/N: This got a bit long, so I split it into 3 chapters. I'll probably post the other chapters sometime next week. This first one is the main story and fulfills this request, but I couldn't resists adding on the aftermath of Jungkook's allergy/asthma attack and the aftercare and then the after after care of the next day too, lol. Also, this is completely unedited and likely full of typos and grammatical errors per usual.

Jungkook lowkey hates springtime. 

Overall, spring is actually his second favorite season because of the milder temperatures. His first favorite season by far is winter, because hot weather sucks and cold weather is where he belongs to his very core. 

Spring, however, usually means allergies. Lots and lots of allergies. Itchy, sniffly, sneezy allergies. Jungkook’s body unfortunately did not get the memo that other bodies get and so on top of allergies, he also has asthma, which of course is always the worst for him in the springtime. 

On this particular spring Saturday morning, he wakes up with puffy eyes and a stuffy nose. It’s pretty typical for this time of year, and he’s usually not so cheerful upon waking when he has to immediately sneeze before he even fully has his eyes open, but this morning he doesn’t give a shit because it’s hiking day.

Jungkook loves hiking. 

He absolutely loves being in nature– even if nature does not love him back. And today, on a very rare occasion, all six of his best friends are joining him for a short hike that he’s been planning for months. He’s very excited for hiking day.

With a mildly irritated sigh, Jungkook pulls the comforter completely over his head, sneezes six times in a row, and sniffs sharply to chase away the tickle that will be returning as soon as he lets his guard down and then remain in his sinuses for the rest of the day. 

When he resurfaces he finds two faces staring down at him. 

“Morning,” he says with a cheerful smile and a soft sniffle.

“Good morning, and bless you!” Jimin responds. 

“Good morning!” Taehyung says. “We thought we would have to wake you up.”

“Nope!” Jungkook replies. He cups a hand over his mouth and nose and sneezes once more, his whole body shaking. “I’m up. It’s hiking day!” He pauses, hand still over his lower face, anticipating another sneeze that never comes. After a minute he shakes his head and scrubs hard at his nose with a sleepy, irritated groan.

Both Jimin and Taehyung, looking more than half-asleep themselves, lean down at the same time– Jimin on his left and Taehyung on his right– to pat him on the chest sympathetically. 

“Don’t forget to take your allergy pill,” Jimin reminds him. “Did you pack your inhaler last night?” 

Jungkook glances towards his nightstand where his inhaler is. “Yep.”

Taehyung pokes him in the belly. “Well, get up, then. You made us all wake up at the asscrack of dawn so this better be worth it. Let’s go hike your mountain.” 

“It’s a butte,” Jungkook corrects him, but Taehyung is already leaving the room, yawning so widely his jaw cracks. 

“I need coffee,” Jimin says, also yawning, and he trails behind Taehyung. 

Despite his excitement, Jungkook is the last to be ready, and when he gets to the living room everyone else is lounging about.

“Let’s go!” He practically shouts, urging them all out the door. “It’s hiking day!” 

“Does the whole street have to know?” Yoongi grumbles, making a face as Jungkook pushes a set of keys into his palm. Even though he’s making a show of being grumpy, he’s the only one Jungkook trusts besides himself to drive at such an early hour. 

The seven of them take two cars to the trail, arriving before the sun rises. There’s a slight chill to the morning air, but the skies are clear and it’s already the start of a beautiful day weather wise. 

Jungkook gets out of the car and reaches his arms up high above his head, leaning to one side and then the other and moaning loudly at the stretch. He’s wearing tight black spandex shorts and a black hoodie that’s halfway to being a crop top, and Taehyung pokes at his exposed stomach with a smirk.

“We might see some deer if we’re quiet enough,” Jungkook announces, ignoring Taehyung. He pulls a camera from his backpack and hangs the strap around his neck. After he shoulders his backpack, he turns towards the trailhead. “Ahhh,” he says with a noisy exhale that he follows with a long, deep breath in through his nose. “Smell that? That’s the beautiful smell of nature.”

He sneezes immediately afterwards.

“Bless you,” Hoseok and Namjoon say in unison.

“Did you take your allergy pill?” Yoongi asks.

“I take it every morning,” Jungkook responds. “Did you take your brain pill?”

Yoongi flips him off and mimics, “I take it every morning.”

“Only because I have to remind you,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

Taehyung yawns and plasters himself against Jimin’s back, snaking his arms around his waist and tucking his hands into Jimin’s hoodie pocket. “I can only smell Jimin’s coffee breath.”

Jimin, still half asleep, only pouts.

Jungkook sneezes, again.

“Bless you,” Hoseok and Namjoon say in unison, again.

“Doesn’t seem like you took your allergy pill,” Yoongi grumbles. “At least tell me you brought your inhaler.”  

Ignoring him, Jungkook bends down to check that his black hiking boots are laced up properly. He adjusts his backpack, stretches his calves for all of ten seconds, and straightens his posture. 

“Let’s hike this butte,” he says cheerfully, and then he takes off at a light jog, disappearing down the trail and leaving them all behind. 

When they catch up to him, Jungkook has his camera raised to his face and he’s squatting by the base of a pine tree, looking at the ground. 

“What are you taking a picture of?” Taehyung wonders. “A worm?”

“Caterpillar,” Jungkook murmurs. “See? Right there.” 

Taehyung pats him on the shoulder in a way that indicates that he does not in fact see the caterpillar. “It’s a very nice caterpillar,” he says anyway.  

The hike Jungkook has chosen isn’t too long nor too strenuous of a hike– only 7 kilometers or so of a well established trail– and they get a beautiful view of the sun rising when they start their hike in earnest, climbing up the east side of the butte. 

Although he’d started off at a fast pace, Jungkook isn’t feeling particularly competitive today, and because he has his camera he chooses to take his time watching wildlife and taking pictures of every bird and plant he sees along the way.

Namjoon leads the group instead, long legs carrying him far very quickly. Jimin has the shortest stride but he’s the second most competitive of the group behind Jungkook, and so he falls into pace right next to Namjoon. Taehyung, Yoongi and Hoseok stay in the middle of the pack, their pace a bit more average. 

Seokjin falls back and keeps Jungkook company in the rear. He watches fondly as Jungkook gushes over the beauty in nature and patiently listens when Jungkook explains the different species of birds they see on the trail. 

“Do you think we’ll see any deer?” Jungkook asks Seokjin, scanning the hillside hopefully. 

“Maybe,” Seokjin replies. “Are there usually deer on this mountain?”

“It’s not a mountain,” Jungkook whispers as a curious chipmunk peeks out at them from behind a fern. “It’s a butte.” 

Jungkook and Seokjin continue up the steepest part of the path until it evens out in elevation, stopping every so often so Jungkook can take his pictures, and they’re the last to reach the summit. There’s a small lookout with a view of the surrounding mountains and the other five are all crammed onto the one single bench there, eating snacks.

“Look,” Hoseok says around a mouthful of trail mix. He points at the ground where Jungkook and Seokjin are standing. “There’s a compass on the ground. It shows what mountains are in the distance, too.” 

Jungkook already knows this. He’s been up hiking here before. He’s about to look down at it when Seokjin covers his eyes from behind.

“Guess which way is north?” he says, chuckling in Jungkook’s ear.

“Fuck off,” he says, shrugging Seokjin off, because he’s shit at directions and has absolutely no idea which direction north is. 

Hoseok and Jimin nearly fall off the bench from laughing so hard.

Jungkook flips them off and then walks to the lookout point, cheeks flushed in sudden embarrassment. He lifts his camera to hide his face and marvels at the beautiful early morning view. He can hear Seokjin join the others on the bench– if Yoongi’s complaints of getting squished are anything to go off– and he can’t stay mad for long when he hears their chatter and joyful laughter.

He turns and snaps a picture just as Seokjin is shoving a massive handful of trail mix into his mouth.

“That’s hot,” he smirks, and this time Seokjin is flipping him off. 

They stay up at the summit for about fifteen minutes before Jungkook is itching to get moving again. He takes a long drink from his water bottle and shoves it back into his backpack. Even though it’s still a bit chilly, he peels off his hoodie and ties it around his waist, snaps one more picture of the group sitting on the bench, and then starts the descent knowing they’ll all follow quickly once they realize he’s leaving. 

Jungkook smiles when he remembers there’s a meadow just on the other side, full of beautiful wildflowers that he can’t wait to photograph. Sure enough, he doesn’t have to go very far down the trail before he spots the colorful field ahead of him. 

“Hey,” Seokjin says, catching up to him. “Wait up!”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook mumbles, but there’s no real heat behind it. 

He hears Seokjin’s pace quicken behind him and slows down a little. His eyes are starting to itch and he scrunches up his face, trying not to rub at them. His nose is starting to itch, too. 

Seokjin peers at Jungkook, taking in the irritation he can see on his face. “Oh, come on,” he says. “I was just teasing about the direction thing. Don’t be grumpy with me.”

“I’m not grumpy.” Jungkook gives in and digs his fist into his eye. 

“Okay,” Seokjin says, sounding unconvinced.  

Jungkook rubs at his nose, and then sniffles, and then nearly stumbles a step when his nose prickles sharply, bringing a few tears to his eyes.

And then he sneezes.

It’s not just any sneeze. It’s harsh, quick and forceful and so itchy sounding that Seokjin winces.

“Oh, shit,” he murmurs. “You okay?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond. He’s bent at the waist, sneezing again. The irritation makes him cough afterward, and he feels Seokjin’s hand on his upper arm, like he’s getting ready to steady him if needed. 

When he straightens, his eyes and nose are streaming and his eyes are still itchy as fuck.

“You okay?” Seokjin repeats. He’s biting his lower lip.

Jungkook rubs at his eyes with his fists. “Yep. I’m fine.”

At this point, the others have caught up to them. 

“Was that Jungkook sneezing?” Jimin asks, pulling a small packet of tissues from his pocket of his sweatpants. “Here.” 

Jungkook accepts the tissues, but he doesn’t have time to get one out before he has to sneeze again, another harsh expulsion that has him bending at the waist. 

Jimin rolls his eyes in amusement and takes the unused tissue pack back, opening the plastic and pulling several tissues out before passing them to Jungkook. They all know by the sound that it’s not just a regular sneeze– it’s very clearly the start of an allergy attack. Jungkook thinks about how often they all like to comment on his sneezing, which apparently sounds different depending on what’s making him sneeze. To him, it all just sounds like sneezing. Instead of going off the sound, he goes off the feeling, and the current feeling is an unbearably itchy allergy attack that’s going to have him sneezing his head off for the rest of the hike, probably. 

Fuck springtime. 

While Jungkook blows his nose, Yoongi digs through his backpack and locates Jungkook’s epi pen, extra inhaler, allergy medication and more tissues.

“Holy shit, Yoongi,” Jungkook laughs. He scrubs the wad of tissues in his hand under his nose back and forth several times until the undersides of his nostrils are bright pink. “I actually did my meds this morning.” 

“When are you due for more?”

“I’m fine.” Jungkook says instead of answering. He tucks the used tissues into his pocket. “I can breathe. I’m just a little itchy.” 

Hoseok watches him rubbing his eyes again with a frown. “Yeah, we can see that. Quit rubbing your face.”

Jungkook sneezes again and does not quit rubbing his face. 

Namjoon sighs and pats his shoulder. “Why did you plan your hike by all these flowers?” He asks, gesturing at the meadow. “There are so many. Damn.” 

Jungkook starts to answer, but he’s hit with another sharp prickle in his sinuses. He holds up a finger, sucks in a massive breath, and then sneezes loudly four times in a row.

“Uh, pretty sure you just scared all the deer away,” Seokjin teases, smiling a little before going back to chewing on his bottom lip.

Jimin pulls more tissues out of the pack and hands them to Jungkook. “Bless you!” 

“Jimin, you’re a lifesaver with these tissues,” Jungkook says with a sniffle. His nose is drippy now and he can feel the next sneeze approaching fast. “C’mon, let’s start heading back to the car. There might be deer closer to the trailhead.” 

“Wait! Don’t you want to take a moment and–”

Whatever Yoongi’s saying, Jungkook doesn’t catch the end of it. He’s scanning the meadow for deer and wondering how close he can get to the pretty wildflowers without throwing himself into an asthma attack on top of everything. He might already be heading for an asthma attack, with the way his chest is starting to feel, but they’re already halfway through the short hike and he has his own inhaler in his backpack in addition to the one Yoongi apparently thought to bring along. 

In the end, he decides to take pictures of the flowers as he walks and doesn’t stray from the trail even an inch. Namjoon and Seokjin take the lead once they catch up, but they don’t let themselves get too far ahead, and Jungkook notices them glancing back over their shoulders every time he sneezes. 

Jimin, his sweet angel of a friend, sticks close and keeps handing him tissues. Hoseok blesses him from behind so frequently that eventually, Jungkook stops and turns around.

“Seok,” he says, and wow he sounds like shit. He clears his throat and holds up a tissue. “You don’t have to say bless you every single time.”

Hoseok blushes. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

Jungkook rips the tissue in half and shoves one half up his right nostril, then the other half up his left. “There,” he says, sounding even more stuffed-up and ridiculous. “This will hold off the sneezing for a bit.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow skeptically but doesn’t say anything. 

“That’s…kind of gross, but okay,” Jimin tells him. He stays close by with tissues at the ready anyway.

They all start walking again. The tissue stuffed up his nose does keep the sneezing at bay, but only for about ten minutes. In that time, they descend past the meadow and get back to the treeline, where Jungkook spots a woodpecker and spends a good few minutes photographing it.

“That’s a nice bird,” Taehyung says, reaching up to thread his fingers through the hair at Jungkook’s nape. “You sure you can breathe okay like that?”

Jungkook sniffs hard in response, which turns out to be a mistake since there’s still a half a tissue stuffed up each of his nostrils. The intake of air pulls the tissues further up his nose and sets off an intense tickle that makes him snort and then cough. 

It’s not his smartest moment.

He reaches up and tugs the pieces of tissue out of his nose, and he’s pretty sure Jimin gags next to him at the sight, but he doesn’t really hear him because doing so only makes the tickle so, so much worse. He finds himself suddenly trapped in between sneezing and not sneezing, his lungs forcing him to suck in air and his nose twitching in irritation but not quite completing the job. It’s torturous and it lasts for what feels like hours, but in reality is probably only twelve seconds before he hears the crinkle of plastic next to his ear.

“Try blowing your nose,” Jimin suggests, and Jungkook forces his eyes open so he can see. He takes the tissue that Jimin’s offering and cups it over his nose.

“Jungkook,” he hears Jimin say after a moment. “You gotta try blowing your nose. Or sneeze, or something.” 

He’s vaguely aware that he’s still standing there in sneezy limbo, mouth wide open and nostrils flaring, but he can’t do anything because his sinuses are on fire and his breath keeps catching with nowhere to go and the tickle is spreading to the back of his throat and he’s still not sneezing. 

He feels something swipe beneath his eyes to catch the irritated tears– Jimin’s fingers– and then a hand covers his hand around the tissue and squeezes lightly.

As soon as the air is cut off to his nostrils, Jungkook sighs in relief, the tension draining from his body, and as soon as Jimin lets go of his hand, he sneezes explosively.

“Bless you!” Hoseok chirps.

“Bless you,” Jimin says. He passes another tissue over.

“Fuck, shit,” Jungkook grunts out, coughing a few times.

Taehyung squeezes the back of his neck. 

Hoseok and Yoongi are looking at each other, communicating silently with each other in their own secret language that only they speak, but that Jungkook can understand perfectly– they’re debating whether or not to ask him if he wants to take his inhaler. Jungkook can tell by the way they’re staring into each other's eyes and frowning, and also by the way that Yoongi is cradling Jungkook’s inhaler in his palm.

“So, that sucked,” Jungkook croaks out. He coughs a few more times. “Please never let me put tissues up my nose again.” 

“Gladly,” Jimin responds with a grimace.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook says, rubbing his eyes as he starts walking down the trail again. “I don’t want Joon and Seokjin to see a deer without me.” 

“That would be tragic,” Taehyung agrees, following behind. 

Jungkook’s sinuses and lungs are starting to ache, and his eyes are so itchy he can’t keep himself from rubbing at them every minute or so, but he’s still in good spirits as they take a switchback and finally get the final, glorious view for the last part of their hike. 

Jungkook lifts his camera and snaps about ten pictures. He uses his viewfinder to spot Namjoon and Seokjin below, not too far ahead of them on the trail, and takes a picture of them too. 

Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi stop behind him as he takes pictures and drink from their water bottles. 

“Why does going downhill hurt my knees so much?” Yoongi complains.

“It’s because you’re old,” Taehyung retorts. 

Hoseok and Jimin fall into each other with laughter, and Jungkook shushes them. “Shh, you’ll scare the deer away!” 

It doesn’t matter how loud they’re laughing, though, because in the next moment a tickle flares in Jungkook’s sinuses and he has to sneeze. The sneeze rings out through the air, and it’s followed by a second sneeze, and then a third, the itch spreading again in a way that only his allergies can do. He reaches up and scrubs hard at his nose, but it does nothing to stop the tickle nor the resulting sneezes, one right after the other without much of a chance to breathe in between. 

“Bless you,” Hoseok says after about seven or eight sneezes.

Jungkook shakes his head, swipes the back of his hand over his streaming eyes, and then cups both hands over his mouth and nose and keeps on sneezing. He sneezes so many times in a row that he grows dizzy, head spinning when he tries to open his eyes. He instinctively reaches out and grabs on to the thing nearest to him, which happens to be Jimin’s arm.

“Woah, Kook–? What’s wrong?” 

Jungkook can only dig his fingers into Jimin’s arm as another fit of sneezes takes him over. 

“Sit down for a sec,” Hoseok says in his ear, helping to guide him to the ground as he sniffles and blinks against the spots in his vision. 

Once he’s sitting on the ground, he feels Jimin take his hand, press a handful of tissues against his palm, and then help lift his arm back up to his face. 

“Blow,” he says, waiting until Jungkook gets the tissues to his nose before he reaches over and slides Jungkook’s backpack off his shoulders for him.

Jungkook sneezes into his wad of tissues. And sneezes some more. And then sneezes about ten more times for good measure, and not a single sneeze does anything to relieve the maddening tickle in the back of his nose and throat. He pauses to suck in a greedy breath of air, cough harshly, and then sneezes twice more before he can finally stop. The tissues in his hand are soaked through and are practically useless by the time he tries to blow his nose, but he does it anyway, snorting air out of his nostrils forcefully and shuddering at the awful, raw feeling he always has post sneezing fit.    

“Bless you!” Jimin and Hoseok exclaim at the same time as soon as it’s apparent that Jungkook is done sneezing for the time being. 

Seokjin and Namjoon are squatting down in front of him.

“You’re both going to get permanent wrinkles from frowning so hard,” Jungkook tells them. His voice is nearly gone. 

Seokjin heaves a deep sigh and stands up. He offers a hand out to Jungkook, helping him up off the ground. Jungkook hops up and brushes the dirt off his ass, then turns to Jimin.

“Please tell me there are more tissues.” 

Jimin holds up another unopened pack of tissues. “So many more tissues. Take all you need.” 

Jungkook grabs his backpack from the ground and opens the front pocket so he can shove all the used tissues inside, emptying out his pockets as well. He finishes off the rest of his water, shoulders his backpack, and gratefully takes the pack of tissues from Jimin.

“Need your inhaler before we keep going?” Yoongi asks. He cups a hand under Jungkook’s chin and gently tilts his head back, eyes narrowed as he inspects the puffiness around his eyes and nose.

“Your nose is so red,” Taehyung comments, poking the tip of Jungkook’s nose with a grin. 

Jungkook squirms under their gaze.

“I’m fine,” he says hoarsely.

Taehyung reaches over and pulls the collar of Jungkook’s t-shirt from his neck. 

“I’m not going to get a rash!” He nudges Taehyung’s hand away just in time to get his own hand up to his face, sneezing against the back of his wrist once. “I’m really fine,” he tries to reassure everyone, even as his breath hitches in preparation for yet another sneeze. “Honestly, I’m just really sneezy right now.” 

“You’re sneezier than I’ve ever seen you before,” Seokjin agrees. 

“I hope I didn’t scare all the deer away,” Jungkook pouts. 

Hoseok hooks his arm through Jungkook’s and gives him an optimistic smile. “If you did, we’ll just come back some other time.” 

They start walking again, this time sticking together as a group. Jungkook carries his own tissues this time, though his sneezes have gotten smaller and stuffier and he stops trying to cover them up after a while. Soon, he’ll be too stuffed up to sneeze properly and it will hurt– he can already feel his sinuses throbbing. 

He has to stop walking again not five minutes later, annoyed about having to pause every three steps to sneeze. Despite the increase in frequency of sneezes, he’s getting very little relief from sneezing so much– his whole face just feels too itchy and he knows it’s only going to keep growing worse until he can get back home and shower. After a fit of sneezes that lasts too long for him to count, making him have to stop on the trail for a good several minutes, he turns to Yoongi.

“You happen to have eye drops in that bag?” 

Yoongi does in fact have eye drops, and Jungkook takes the bottle as fast as he can because Yoongi looks like he’s a second away from putting them in Jungkook’s eyes himself. After, he unzips his own backpack and pulls out his inhaler to take a hit.

“Preventative measure,” he croaks out before Yoongi can say anything. 

Suddenly, Taehyung gasps and they all startle. 

“What?” Hoseok squeaks.

Taeyhung is pointing just over Jungkook’s shoulder. “Kook, look at that butterfly!” 

Jungkook turns and looks to where Taehyung is pointing, a grin spreading over his entire face when he sees one of the biggest monarch butterflies he’s even seen before, fluttering so close he could probably reach out and touch it. He lifts his camera, snaps a couple of pictures, and then turns to Taehyung.

“Good spot!” 

Taehyung puffs up his chest, proud of himself. 

Jungkook’s nose twitches. His smile fades, his breath hitching erratically. “Fuck,” he pants out breathlessly before sneezing harshly. When he looks up, six mouths are frowning at him. “Sorry,” he rasps, suddenly feeling upset. “I don’t…” He trails off, unsure of what to say, but Yoongi immediately grabs his hand. 

“No apologizing,” he says firmly. “Let’s get you back to the car, hm? Do you want Namjoon to give you a piggyback ride?”

“Hey!” Namjoon protests halfheartedly. “I didn’t agree to that.” 

“I would take up that offer in a second if there wasn’t the risk of me sneezing in your hair the whole way back,” Jungkook chuckles. 

“I appreciate that,” Namjoon says with a grin. 

As soon as the parking lot is in view, Jungkook launches into another seemingly endless sneezing fit.

He stifles each sneeze into his hand, trying to hold them back as best as he can so they can make it back to the cars. It’s a difficult feat– his sneezes, especially his allergy sneezes, are strong and not at all easy to contain– but it makes it so he can keep walking and sneeze at the same time. One of the downsides, however, is that as soon as he starts stifling, he also starts to wheeze slightly, and it only takes a couple of minutes for everyone else to hear it.

“No, no,” Yoongi scolds when he realizes what Jungkook is doing. “Do not hold them back like that. Shit, Kookie, what are you thinking?” Then, a little softer, he adds knowingly, “Really, just let them out, baby. We’ll help you get back to the car.” 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at the pet name, but doesn’t say anything. 

He feels Namjoon cup the back of his neck. “We’re almost there, Koo.”

Jungkook slows his pace just a little. Now his friends are breaking out the pet names and the gentle touches, which means they are officially worried about him and they’re going to be openly babying him like they’ve been wanting to this entire time. 

Not that he cares, in this moment, because now that he’s not allowed to hold back his sneezing, he has to fully stop walking every time he sneezes. 

One step. A harsh, ticklish sneeze that sucks the energy out of him and makes his eyes water. And before he’s taking the next step, he’s already building up to the next sneeze, sucking a trembling breath in, in, in– before he explodes. And then it repeats. 

Jungkook feels a soft grip on his upper arm. Jimin is on his right and Hoseok is on his left, and at first they’re just trying to gently guide him along, but he’s sneezing so helplessly that eventually they each hook and arm through his elbows, and start nudging him a little more firmly down the trail. He trusts them to get him back to the car and not let him trip. 

“Here, love,” Jimin says, holding a tissue to his nose for him. 

Another pet name. Jungkook feels his face heat up. His nose is running profusely, though, so he doesn’t really have room to refuse the help. 

“Don’t know why I can’t stop sneezing,” he mumbles congestedly, his breath rushing out in a wheezy exhale before he promptly sneezes again. 

Jimin and Hoseok guide him to a bench near the trailhead to sit down, even though they can literally see their cars from the spot. Jungkook slumps against whoever is sitting next to him– Hoseok, he’s pretty sure, and closes his eyes tiredly. 

“Poor thing,” Taehyung murmurs. “You sound so miserable and itchy.” 

“Should we try to let him ride out the sneezing first?” He hears Seokjin say. “It seems like it’s slowing down, right?”

Namjoon voices his agreement and Jungkook hopes he’s right, because he honestly can’t tell at this point. 

Yoongi keeps a hand on his back, rubbing lightly between his shoulder blades, standing behind the bench. Jimin sits to his right and holds tissues for him, which would embarrass Jungkook on most days, but in this moment he tolerates simply because he’s so fucking itchy and he can hardly see past the irritated tears that won’t quit– not to mention the fact that his nose is a drippy faucet now. 

Hoseok sits to his left and keeps a grounding hand on his thigh, allowing Jungkook to lean on him. The others hover and give him sips of water every so often, petting his hair and squeezing his shoulders, offering encouragement after every sneeze. 

Jungkook does eventually slow down on the sneezing, enough that he can actually tell he’s slowing down, but as the sneezing dies down a growing sense of irritation and embarrassment replace it. 

He also might be the tiniest bit grumpy, because hiking day did not go as he planned at all.

Fuck springtime. 

He huffs out a wheezy breath. “Sorry I ruined the hike,” he rasps, crossing his arms and frowning. 

Yoongi holds his inhaler out. “What did I say about apologizing?” 

Jungkook snatches the tissues that Jimin is holding and pulls several out of the pack, pressing the bundle to his nose. He stifles a tired sneeze, coughs, and then closes his eyes. “Well. I’m still sorry.” 

“Come here, baby,” Hoseok says, wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder, and Jungkook lets himself be tugged against his chest. 

He feels tears welling up in his eyes and keeps them squeezed shut, not willing to let them fall. He jams the tissues under his nose, stifles two more sneezes, and then pinches his nose shut so no more can escape. 

Jungkook, not at all pouting and definitely not crying, rests his head on Hoseok’s chest and only his stuffy breathing fills the still-early morning air. For a moment, they’re all quiet, listening to Jungkook breathe. As soon as he feels like he has his tears under control, Jungkook squints one eye open, glancing between everyone to get a read on their expressions, and feeling relief when he doesn’t see any disappointment on any of their faces. He blinks a few times to clear any remaining tears, looks towards the parking lot to determine how much farther they have left to go, and then freezes.  

Suddenly, Jungkook snorts, which results in a soft sneeze, and then full-on giggles, because he absolutely cannot believe his eyes.

“What?” Namjoon asks, whipping his head around to look at Jungkook.

“Are you laughing?”

“Kookie, baby, are you okay?” 

They follow his finger when he points away from them and see a deer in the distance, standing so still it looks fake, staring directly at them.

“See? I didn’t scare all the deer away,” he croaks out.

“The fuck, Jungkook?” Seokjin yells. “Don’t joke about deer at a time like this!”

Jungkook stands and coughs hoarsely into his fist. The deer is still unmoving despite Seokjin’s loud voice, but he wants to get a picture of it before it runs away. He raises his camera, snaps a picture, and then lets his camera fall back against his chest just in time to cup both hands over his mouth and nose and sneeze mightily. 

The deer bolts. Jungkook swipes his wrist under his nose and turns to Seokjin. 

“At a time like what?” 

With that, Jungkook turns and strolls back toward the cars, leaving his friends in stunned silence behind him.

Read Chapter 2 HERE

[seongminiz]

call me what you like - park serim

minors dni ; soft dom!serim x sub fem!reader ; 2432 words

warnings : jealousy/possesiveness , reader is insecure , praise , pet names (princess , good girl , baby) , fingering , unprotected sex , breeding , marking , does serim having a driving license count as mischaracterization ? , he also has a massive cock amen . an attempt at proper grammar but only partially proof read so if u find typos or me being an idiot n writing small comments in between no u didnt

first long-ish work i post on here feeling kinda nervous . no fr this is nerve wrecking idk im not good at writing descriptive smut ffs :D but i loved writing it ngl also something kinda upsetting happened today so it ended up a little more angsty than i intended it to be bc what r my fics if not insane projecting lol. the title is a lovejoy song but it has nothing to do with the lyrics i just needed a cool title n lovejoy r kinda the only non kpop music i regularly listen to

you and serim have been in a relationship for a few months now, and while of course you have some small arguments here and there, there have never been any big issues between you two. you love him, he loves you, and neither of you would ever doubt that. that is, until you end up being serim's plus one at some kind of event: you've been following him around all evening bc u have almost no idea of whats going on.

now, you're not usually the jealous type, you're okay with serim speaking to women other than you ffs that's his job, but the way some of them at this event are clearly flirting with him sets your jealousy issues off bad. watching your insanely handsome boyfriend be - or at least act - completely clueless about how they're clearly putting the moves on him, especially with how good he looks dressed like that, white shirt underneath his suit jacket straining against his toned body, leaving little to the imagination.. it pisses you off, to be completely honest.

you can't stand it, you can't stand how so many women, most of them you find clearly prettier than you, are able to get his attention like that, completely ignoring you even if you're basically clinging to his arm.you feel inadequate, just a mere presence they barely acknowledge with a small smile before going back to talk to serim. your serim.

what you fail to notice, though, is that serim is well aware of the shift in your mood. he doesn't know exactly what it's about, but he was pretty quick to sense how upset you had become just in a few minutes, trying to talk to as many people and as quickly as possible so you two could get out of there and he could give you his undivided attention.

of course, you don't know, too focused on dwelling on the jealousy building up inside you. you barely notice when serim gently shakes you, trying to catch your attention 'are you okay princess?' you sigh 'yeah.' your short reply isn't of any reassurance to serim, his thumb lightly rubbing your hip 'wanna go home?' you shrug, trying to hide your (very obvious) upset expression 'if we can, yes. but if you still have to... do whatever you were doing, we don't have to-'

'okay, got it. i'll talk to this one last person, and then we can go home, alright?' you nod, his arm leaves its place around your waist and you once again grab onto it, following his steps. your heart drops when you realize that, unfortunately, said person he has to talk to is a woman. which wouldn't even be that bad on its own, you can stand it for a few minutes (you really can't, but maybe you can convince yourself..), but she also happens to be the most attractive, hottest woman you've seen through the entire evening. you tune out the entire conversation, trying not to stare at her because everytime you take in another detail you feel like crying.

when serim finally cuts the conversation off, you politely - albeit coldly - bid your goodbyes to the woman, walking with serim out of the room and towards the parking lot. when you get to the car, you don't even wait for serim to open the door for you - he's dead set on giving you the full princess treatment - climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door shut.

that's when serim realizes, this isn't just you feeling a bit under the weather, you're genuinely upset - and you weren't at the start of the evening, so he knows something that happened between then and now is the cause of your behavior. the fact you're giving him the silent treatment does irk him a little, but he knows that's how you act when something really bad happens, and he could never get mad at you for it.

despite his concern, serim still calmly gets into the car, turns it on and starts driving out of the parking lot and into the bright, artificially lit streets. glancing at you from time to time, he finds you looking out the car window, arms crossed over your chest, deep in thought. when you reach a particularly empty and straight part of the road, serim takes the chance to place his hand on your thigh, something you're both used to during your late night drives. what he doesn't expect, though, is for you to move your leg, wiggling out of his grasp (not that hard, since he wasn't putting that much strength in it in the first place).

serim raises an eyebrow, eyes still fixed on the road as his hand helplessly goes back to the wheel. his concentration on driving is what makes him miss the way you look back at him, concerned on whether you've gone too far or not. stopping at a red light, serim's eyes immediately find yours, desperate to get to the bottom of this 'what's wrong princess?' you shake your head, absent-mindedly reaching for his hand in search of any possible physical comfort. 'nothing, you're going to think it's stupid anyways,' you mumble. serim frowns, reaching to move a strand of hair behind your ear 'i would never. whatever it is, it's upsetting you, and I don't like seeing my baby like this.' his voice comes off more stern than he intended to, but his soft touch is there to remind you that he's not actually upset at you. he's just your concerned boyfriend.

serim moves his hand from the side of your head to your chin, tilting it so you have no choice but look at him 'so? what is it?' you pout. 'i'm jealous.' the look that crosses serim's face is a puzzled one 'what?' you shrug, averting his eyes 'you spent the entire night talking to other women, all better looking than me. i'm jealous,' you admit. serim is about to answer you, when the light turns green, the cold hue illuminating both of you. serim sighs, speeding up. 'we'll talk about it when we get home, yeah?' you nod, scared that you might have upset him. even if his voice didn't let that out, you can't help but wonder if he's disappointed in you.

serim parks in front of your apartment complex, a few seconds of you two sitting in the car in silence pass, until serim sighs, taking the keys and stepping out of the vehicle, making his way around it to open the door on your side too. god forbid he let you do it on your own again. you walk out, grabbing the hand he extended to you. everything is so silent, you again question if he's genuinely mad at you for how you acted. you knew you were being immature, giving him the silent treatment and all, you're just getting a taste of your own medicine, but you couldn't help it.

you were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't even realize you got to the elevator until the faint 'ding!' of it startles you. you step inside, never letting serim's hand go. 'you know i would never cheat on you,' serim breaks the silence, and your eyes widen in shock to the realization 'that's not what I was implying! i know you wouldn't! i just... those women were all so much prettier than me, and more mature and sophisticated, and hotter and... i'm just me. I felt so out of place, like i wasn't at your level. and it's totally not your fault! but i couldn't help but feel jealous, like I wouldn't even blame you if one day you decided i wasn't enough for you and left me for one of them. and i know you wouldn't but... it still hurts to think about it.' you start rambling, missing how serim tries to stop you a few times by calling your name.

when you finally look up at him, he has the softest smile plastered on his face and, before you can say anything else, he plants a kiss on your lips, his hands immediately finding their way to your hips. 'i would never chose anyone other than you. you're as perfect as you could be, i swear,' you can feel his breath against your lips as he talks, your heart beating furiously against your chest 'i don't care about any of them. you're all i need and you're more than enough, you're too perfect for me' he continues, only stopping to kiss you again. the elevator comes to a halt, and thats your cue to separate, but you know this isn't the end of it. serim's hand finds yours, as he lowers himself to speak into your ear 'i'll show you just how perfect i think you are, yeah?' he whispers, a shiver running through your body at the implication 'will you let me?' you nod furiously, your reaction making serim chuckle 'good girl' he says, kissing right below your ear before guiding you out the elevator.

the short way to your apartment is agonizingly slow, constantly interrupted by stealing kisses from each other and, when you finally manage to step inside, serim has you immediately pinned against the door, locking it behind you as he roughly kisses you. his hands are everywhere on you, your waist, your thighs as your dress slowly rides up to leave you more and more exposed with each movement.

'you don't even know how insane you've been driving me with this dress,' he groans, lifting you up with no effort and, as you wrap your legs around him, you feel his bulge pressing against you, a small moan leaving your mouth. 'serim... need you,' you whimper against his lips, a thin string of drool dripping from your lips onto his. serim smiles, capturing them in yet another kiss as he starts to carry you towards your shared bedroom.

he places you on the bed, your dress lifted all the way to your hips revealing your completely drenched panties. serim can barely contain himself, seeing you all spread out like that, for his eyes only, but he wants to make this all about you and your pleasure.

he starts to slowly undress himself, unbuttoning his shirt before slipping your dress off. your hands brush against his sides, tracing his defined body and tentatively going lower to rid him to his pants - no matter how many times you've seen him like this, it always leaves u in awe how a man this perfect could ever exist, and be your man at that. serim gently takes your hands in his, pins them over your head and places a soft kiss on your lips 'let me do all the work for once,' he says, hooking his fingers in your panties and sliding them off your legs.

before you know it, serim is three fingers deep inside you, opening you up for him bc no matter how many times you've taken him, you'll never get used to just how big his cock is. you've been incessantly whining for god knows how long, about how much you need his cock, you need him, and every time without fail serim replies that 'you already have me, princess, more than anyone in the world, you have all of me.' and proves his point by leaving yet another mark on your skin.

your thighs, your neck, your chest, every unmarked portion of your skin is soon bruised to the point anyone would assume he was the jealous one in the relationship. and maybe he is, just a little bit, recalling how revealing your dress - now discarded somewhere on the floor - was on you, so perfect on his princess but a little too perfect for any other men to look your way.

when serim removes his fingers from you, you're a mess, hair sticking to your forehead, breath heavy, tears running down your cheeks and ruining the makeup you worked so hard on for the event. but that's how serim likes you the most, when you're fucked out before he even gets to be inside of you, his pretty little mess, just for him.

and he tells you exactly that, as his cock finally sinks into you, groaning and rambling about how much he loves this sight, how he's so lucky to have you and how you're his and his only. the sweet praises partially distract you from the stretch, until he bottoms out and you both sigh in unison.

it's not long before serim starts thrusting into you, his pace picking up immediately but never getting quite as fast or rough as it usually would be. he wants to take it slow, savor the moment, his hand holding your hip while the other cradles the side of your face so your eyes don't stray away from him. it's hard to do so, when each thrust hits the perfect spot in you, as you fight the urge to let your eyes close.

'mine,' you moan against his lips, feeling him twitch inside of you 'all yours, princess. and you're mine too, can't stand it when everyone's eyes are on you, you're too pretty for this world.' despite the downright nasty predicament you're in, you can't help the way your heart fills with love at serim's words. you pull him in another kiss, your legs wrapping behind his back to push him deeper inside of you.

'then make me yours in any way possible,' you whisper. serim chuckles, slowing down his thrusts. it's not the first time he cums inside you, but before it was just a result of having unprotected sex. now it's a deliberate choice, to make you his in the most intimate way possible. 'yeah, princess? should i fill you up, mark you from the inside so everyone knows you're mine? would you like that?' you nod, squeezing around him as a particularly hard thrust hits a specific spot inside of you that has you letting out an high pitched moan.

serim's hand leaves your face, his rough fingers rubbing your clit and, before he can even tell you to, you're cumming, shaking as serim helps you ride out your orgasm and reaches his own, spilling inside of you as incoherent praises leave his mouth, telling you how good you've been for him and how much he loves you.

once you've both calmed down, serim presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you tight in his arms so that you can know you're really, uniquely his, and he's not going anywhere.

[ponyosfrogg]

INBETWEEN (PT 3)

Summary: You wake up, completely under the effect of your dream about comic characters, just to find out a new character has been added to DCU? Or has she always been there?

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader

Author's Note: Gosh, sorry for taking some time. This chapter was a pain in the ass, all i wanted was to write about sweet moments but god 😶‍🌫️ sorry about the typos, I'll fix them as soon as i can i promise, hope you like it my loves! thank you so much for the support! 💗

Warning: Some of the themes and contents written in this fic might be upsetting for some of the readers, read at your own risk. Some parts have strong language.

As you woke up with a throbbing pain in your head, you couldn't help but wonder if this would be a issue every time you tried to wake up normally. Frustrated, you cautiously opened your eyes, preparing for the brightness. The light made everything appear blurry, so you tried shading your eyes with your hands, but it didn't help much. Suddenly, a silhouette rushed towards you.

"You got me so worried! I can't believe you didn't took your medicine's today! I'm so angry at you" A slap out of worry hit your arm and made you more awake and more aware of your surroundings. You were in your house, with your best friend beside your bed. She must've taken you to your bed since the last thing you can recall was washing some dishes. The slippery and weird feeling in your hand was just proof. "And so glad that you're okay." Amber hugged your laying body with compassionate behavior.

You reposition yourself on the bed and lay your back on the bedstand now facing your best friend who was sitting next to you on your bed. You were in your room. Your real room.

"Are you okay? You're very quiet." With her voice you tried to collect your thoughts in one place. So you had a dream about comic characters? God, you must've been going through some shit because you rarely even dream. Maybe you were in need to feel some family support? Or you just read a lot of them last night.

"Yeah, I'm okay no worries. I just had the weirdest dream ever. I'm sorry about worrying you I'll be more careful about my medicine." but you were so sure that you took all of them today. Why would your heart react in such a way. You found yourself questioning yourself once again, falling into a familiar pattern of self-doubt and second-guessing.

"Oh I can't wait to hear about it but first i have to tell you something." She must've done something she thought was necessary but not necessarily the best idea. "I called Nate." Yes, just as you guessed. Amber must've seen the shift in your reaction and started to get panicky. "Don't blame me! I got so worried and waited for one hour but you didn't wake up so i had to call him, i didn't know what to do. he said he's on his way to come here now. Could be here any moment now." She got up from the bed and started to walk around the room in a panicking way.

But you weren't focusing on her anymore, just hearing Nate's name made your heart flutter a little bit. He was your ex. You had been inseparable from your childhood and at some point it turned into a beautiful relationship. Nate was an ambitious student who wanted to have nothing more than a wife and a job. You on the other hand, you like the possibilities life could offer you. You never had something on your mind you were just going around wherever life takes you. Spontaneous trips to places you'd like to visit, working freelance and getting paid whenever you're in need of some money, reading books and comics whenever you're free. You were a kind of woman who would post something dumb on an afternoon during weekdays which would make all of your working friends question your sanity. So it's safe to say that you guys were completely opposites.

And whoever said opposites attract, they were wrong as fuck. You needed someone to think like you. It was hard to maintain the relationship when both of your needs were completely opposite, beside your characters. You guys broke up two months ago or something like that. you weren't keeping the count.

Although it was hard to not to think about him, you always thought you made the right decision about him. You wouldn't want to keep him from living his life, and you wouldn't want him to keep you from living your life either. It was the right decision. But why were you feeling nauseous right now?

"It's okay, we were going to see each other at some point anyway." You tried to smile in a relaxing way and you must have been successful since she gave you another big hug. She was one of the kindest soul you had a chance to meet on this earth. She had beautiful ginger curly hair with a lot of freckles on her face. She had this beautiful smile that made your day better whenever you saw her. She was just the most adorable person you could ever hope for and you were glad she was your friend, your best friend to be exact.

"Okay, I'll leave you alone and give you some privacy for you to change your clothes." You rolled your eyes at her words. Yeah, you took back whatever you said about her, she was devious. "I'm not going to all doll-up for Nate, Amber." She giggled at the annoyance at your voice while she was leaving the room.

You looked around your room. How could something feel so familiar yet so strange. You felt an unexplainable feeling on your chest. It wasn't about your heart, something was different. Maybe the dream affected you more than you could admit.

As you gazed around, your attention was suddenly drawn to the batfamily poster hanging on the wall behind your desk. It was an old favorite, something you had put up about three years ago. It included all of the batfamily members. Yet, this time, there was something different about it, or rather, someone.

You rushed to get a closer look, your eyes widening in surprise. Among the familiar faces of Bruce, Jason, Dick, and Damian, there was a new addition—a girl standing beside Damian. Who was she? And why the fuck she looked like you.

"Amber?" You yelled from your room, hoping her to hear. Her voice echoed back a response, and you called out again, "What did you do to my poster?"

You heard her quick footsteps and then Amber entered your room, her expression showing annoyance at being summoned. She glanced at the poster you were holding in your hand. "It looks perfectly normal to me. I didn't touch it."

You rolled your eyes, feeling annoyed more and a bit frustrated. "I mean, who's the new character next to Damian?"

Amber looked at you as if you had said the most absurd thing you could ever say. "Are you serious right now? Is this supposed to be some kind of joke? Listen, i need to go out. I know that you're kind of excited and anxious to meet Nate and you don't want to be alone but i have to go." You turned around and saw she already dressed up. You were speechless.

"Wait, what? Are you going out? Are you going to leave me alone with Nate and excuse me but what the fuck is happening right now! Who is this girl."

She didn't say anything and left the room, leaving you without any further explanation.

You reached over your laptop and opened it. Yes, something weird was going on and you were determined to find it and what would be a better way than google. You pull your soft, white chair and sit on it while you are waiting for your laptop to be open. When it got open, you typed the batfamily and searched for it.

After like three minutes, you saw the name Viperia, even though you read a lot of comics and familiar with almost every character at that point you've never heard of her so you typed 'Viperia' on a different tab. To your surprise, there were numerous posts and messages about this character. She appeared at the same time as Damian in comics. She was snarky, cocky and definitely a pain in the ass but somehow she literally had her own fan-base. You saw a lot of websites made in the honor of her, a lot of fanarts and literally thousands of fan fiction. But how come you've never heard about her and why did she literally look like you.

"Yeah, this must be a fucking dream."

When you heard a knock from the door, you remembered you were expecting Nate. Fuck, you already have forgotten about him coming. You pulled yourself together and promised to check this after you're done with Nate. Right now you have to focus on him.

You must have been so lost on your research, you didn't realize Amber already left the house. You opened the door and you saw Nate's bright face.

Seeing him make a lot of emotions rushing to you. There was longing in your heart, you were longing for his presence. There was some kind of disappointment. You were disappointed in him, he could've made this thing go further but he didn't. He chose to give up on you and you chose to give up on your relationship.

When you break up with someone, seeing them changing does have an effect on you. You expect them to be the same but you don't realize people tend to change every now and then, especially after going through a painful break-up. You felt sad but you felt you didn't have any right to be sad, after you were the who cut the cords of that relationship. You chose your path to leave him. It was painful for you but you knew that if you didn't, it would be more painful in the future. But somehow right that moment you were looking at a completely different guy. He had a bright smile on his face just like he always does but somehow it was different, it was full of confidence. His eyes were shining like two little stars. He was radiating some kind of sunshine energy that you became addicted once. And seeing him make all of these things rush through your mind.

He had a white shirt on him, which made him look very... professional? But in a pretty way. His partly long hair was slicked back nicely. You can see his newly grow beard that he probably is going to shave tomorrow morning. Even though he looked almost the same as two months ago you realized he changed, he's much better now. He's better off without you or maybe you were just that lonely who was considering going back to her ex just because you hated being alone or a narcissist who thinks everyone is in love with her.

"Hello." His stern voice made you startled since you were, once again, wandering on your mind. "Hello, how rude I am. Come in." you stepped backwards for him to enter the house. He was looking around when you closed the wooden door and turned at him.

"You guys made some changes on this apartment huh? It looks prettier." You smile at the compliment. Always too nice.

"Yes, it was time to get rid of some old stuff." Then you realized this was not an appropriate sentence to say since it's only been two months after the break up.

You cleaned your throat and talked again: "Take a seat I'll prepare us some coffee." When you were rushing to the kitchen, you heard his footsteps right behind you. "You never really learn do you? I'm literally here for your heart and you are offering me coffee? Way to go." You laughed at his point.

It was nice to be around him. He had such a charm that could make you feel comfortable all the time. There wasn't any awkward silence around him. It was always joyful, happy and full of smiles. He was like a home for you once. Now he was just a stranger you perfectly know.

"Well, old habits die hard." At that point you literally wanted to punch yourself on your face. There were millions of words in English and somehow you always chose the one that made you sound like a heartless person.

When you were preparing the coffee he sat on a chair beside the window. It was raining again. There was no lightning or storm but just plain rain. It was the fourth day today and the weird thing is, it was middle of the fucking summer, July to be exact.

"So, your heart?" When you put on his mug, (which was adorable by the way. It was dark red with little white hearts on it.) on the little coffee table in front of him. You sat right in front of him. "Yes, I think Amber is overreacting. I'm perfectly fine." He looked at you with his brown eyes, completely scanning your body. It's like, he was trying to find evidence of you being okay. But in reality he was actually thinking about how much he missed you. He missed being around you, your presence, your voice, your scent and everything about you. He missed hearing your stupid theories about comics, he missed talking about ordinary stuff under the stars on a hill that he would take you every saturday, he missed you making him laugh so hard that he would cry, he missed you. Simply you, being you.

"Still, i think you should come to the hospital and let me examine you over there since I didn't bring a lot of stuff." You nod, perfectly aware of the fact that you simply wouldn't do something like that. You knew something was different. You experienced a lot of seizures like that and it was different and since you already took your medicine, you wouldn't bother to go again. If there's something, that would mean more medicine. But you were sure that was not the case.

Your mind went to Damian's sister again. How could this be possible. She looked exactly like you and you were wondering how she can appear on your poster. It was there for three years now and you would've noticed at some point right? Viperia... Even the name sounds so made up, you still were trying to convince yourself that you actually imagined that person. But then again, Amber said she's been there for some time. Maybe she also hallucinated.

You tried to pull your attention back on the guy sitting in front of you. Viperia was the future you problem, right now you had Nate in front of you.

"You look tired." When he stated the obvious fact you simply smiled. "Yes, it's been a long day." More like two days in one. "And I'm kind of anxious maybe that's why."

He directly looked into your eyes with such a compassionate look. If he could make your pain go away, he would in a heartbeat. It was so weird to part your ways even though you love that person. But growing up meant realizing it's important have someone who has the same mindset as you and about that, you guys were not the best. 'Love can start something but it wouldn't make something keep going.' Your mother used to say this sentence a lot whenever she and your dad argued.

He reached over your hand that was on uour your lap. When he touched you, you could feel the vibrations going around your body. It was dumb to think that you were over him but when it's you, you can never be sure and you knew that all to well.

"You know that I'm here right? It doesn't matter what time is it, if you call, I'll come." He said almost whispering. His hand traces its way through your face. Cupping one of your cheeks. No, that wasn't good. You could feel that every cell of yours longing for him but that wasn't a good idea.

"I think you should go."

He looked at you for five seconds with a disappointed look on his face. He could tell that you were uncomfortable and he didn't want to keep doing whatever he was doing. Then he take his hand off your face and stood up. "Yes, I think I should go. Thank you for the coffee. I think tomorrow morning you should visit the hospital just in case." You nodded and said 'thank you' while he was taking his stuff and going to door.

"Goodnight." He was the one who smiled as an answer this time.

As soon as you closed the door, you released the breath you didn't even you were holding until that point.

You went into your room after sitting back of the door for some time, collecting your thoughts about Nate. You needed something to take your mind off from Nate and you decided to keep researching about Viperia.

Two hours later, your mind was almost going to explode from all the information you found about her.

She was the sixth child of Batman, not a sister but twin of Damian. Raised by Bruce but also Talia too. Her name was the same as yours but she was using Viperia as an alias, which was a venomous snake. She was skilled at martial arts and she was a great assassin, maybe even better than Damian. She was quite popular with her rage and snarky comments just like Damian. She was getting along with almost every family member except Tim and you didn't find anything relating to that topic. On some fandom base sites, there were a lot of theories about them dating secretly 'why else they wouldn't even once mention about her relationship with Tim' they wrote. 'Tim never even refers to her as his sister.' You searched so deep that you even had came across a smut writing between her and Alfred which made you a little bit of uncomfortable and also scared.

You started to think how could you miss this character or did she literally appear out to nowhere in three hours?

The creator was releasing new chapters on that comic series in every two weeks. 'Batman's Daughter' was the title. It was covering the whole background starting from the birth which was crazy but useful also, since you learned that Talia literally put her in Lazarus Pit whenever she had some kind of blade cuts on the age of fucking three. No wonder that girl was total nuts but of course fun to read.

When you were doing your research your laptop's notification sound made you startled. Maybe you didn't have any resemblance with her since she could literally murder without even flinching and you were, well, getting startled from a notification sound.

It was an e-mail.

You took your laptop and stood up from the chair you've been sitting for some time now. Since you also started to get sleepy it was a good idea to going to your bed and read your mail over there.

You sat on your soft green colored sheets and opened your mail, you didn't know the person who sent you the mail. There was literally no name or anything. Just an attachment and a word on the subject part which was 'read :)'

You clicked on the attachment, even though you knew you shouldn't since it was a mail from someone unknown and you might even download a fucking virus on your laptop but however something inside of you was couraging you to open it.

It was a comic on a pdf format but it was more like a work in progress. Some parts were still empty.

The Doom of Batfamily?

That was enough for your curiosity to take over, so you started reading.

It was starting with Bruce talking with his family about some unusual murders on the city. He was suspecting someone from the League of Assassins since the murder weapon was a sword. But turns out it was Viperia who is getting more and more insane everyday because of the Lazarus pit. But it didn't even stop there, she was getting involved with some villains to trap her family one by one and killing them all, she was thinking they were on her way.

You were horrified. It was very graphical and the sketches literally showed everything explicitly. In the end, she was literally standing on all of their dead bodies, laughing histerically.

You close the laptop immediately and closed your eyes, trying once again to collect your thoughts. Everything seemed so messy right now and you didn't know what to do. Why Viperia appeared out of nowhere, Who was the sender of the mail, why is she killing all of her family, what the fuck is going on.

"Fuck, no."

Without resisting more, you give yourself in the sweet arms of sleep. You could try to solve that problem tomorrow, you needed some sleep now.

After like two minutes of sleeping you opened your eyes involuntarily since, well, you only closed them for two minutes.

"It took you long enough."

With this voice, you got scared again.

"I didn't know you like sleeping this much it's literally noon time now, wake up so we can go to my favorite cafe to have some breakfast and then feed the ducks."

You watched him in horror.

"Hey, haven't you missed your beloved brother?"

"Damian?"

[johnny-slaughter-me]

— “ 𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚'𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐲. ” | Johnny Slaughter x Female Reader.

Oneshot. Based off this post by @abundance-of-fic-reblogs.

Notes. English isn't my native language so typos and grammar issues are likely.

Warnings. This fic is sfw. Canon kidnapping, cannibalism and gore mentioned, along with arranged marriage and children.

Enjoy. I hope you enjoy the content. Much love, Cherry. 🍒

You were supposed to be just another victim. You and your friend group's car broke down and the only sign of life near by was the rundown gas station. Luckily- or so you thought, it was still open and there was and older gentleman working the counter.

It became a blur, you don't even remember how you ended up tied in someones basement. A loud rev of a chainsaw woke you up followed with a scream that sounded like it belonged to one of your friends. You panicked trying to break free from the ropes restraining you from leaving. A scream escaped your lips as you felt a firm hand on your back. "Now, now, no need to be so scared, darlin'. Be quiet, and I'll take you to a safer place." The man said. He picked you up and carried you over his shoulder. Despite not knowing who he is, you didn't resist, too scared to disobey. Johnny doesn't know waht came over him. He initially went there to grab you and bring you straight to Leatherface's lair, where you'd be met with the same fate as your friends. But when put his hand on your back and that small yet terrified scream escaped your lips he look into your eyes. For the first time Johnny didn't feel the desire to kill, no, he desired other things. And now here he was taking you to his shed. He dropped you down and made up a little corner for you, "hide here for now darlin', should be safe. I'll come check on you. But don't you dare go away they're out there and I won't be able to help ya'." The man, who you'd later come to know as Johnny, said; leaving you behind.

Time wasn't as kind as you'd wish, you never got to go home. Instead Johnny had managed to keep you as his "girlfriend" meaning he's family dinner directly harmed you. You spent most of your time in his shed, he only let you in the house if he was there with you. You could even tell if he had locked you in his shed everyday because of some twisted fantasy or because he genuinely thought his family is out to get you and did it as a means of protection. Anything was possible with him, or his family. You couldn't even begin to understand them and why they behaved the way they did. Nancy, Johnny's mom, scared you the most. You definitely thought she was plotting your murder. She never spoke to you, but she would and continues to speak of you, even infront of you, and it is never kind things she has to say about you. Johnny would sometimes argue with her, but it was never necessarily to defend you, but rather his decision for wanting to keep you. "You are my boy Johnny, I know you better than you know yourself. She is distracting you away from the family." Nancy scolded him during dinner, with you and they entire family present. You kept your head low and ate quietly as you did every night. Not wanting to give her anymore reasons to kill you. "She's nothing but trouble, you could find even whores who will provide what she does and more. You can do better my boy, I don't want you settling down for something like that when you can do better." Nancy insulted you once again, "I think she's nice and pretty!" Sissy randomly said, you turned to look at her, no one in the family had ever stood up for you except for Johnny. You smiled at Sissy as your cheeks got a bit pink, but then you heard Nancy growl under her teeth so you quickly lowered your head and pretended to not exist anymore. As Nancy was about to talk some more shit, the older man from the gas station that you visited before being kidnapped, spoke: "as long as Johnny doesn't spring no love child around here, she don't bother us. If he gets too distracted imma smack that Johnny boy of yours in the head!". Suddenly, Johnny stood up, his eyes lit up and he made his way towards you. Resting his hands on your shoulders, you looked up at him, you locked eyes for a brief moment before you followed his gaze towards Nancy. "Mother." Johnny said, "I know you are looking out for me but there's just some needs of mine you can't fulfill. If you really love me you won't be mean to the woman I choose now, would you?" Nancy took a breath before starting to say, "of course not Johnny, I love you and am so proud of you. You are my bo-" but Johnny cut her off before she continued, "then ma', how 'bout I marry Y/N, and after she'll become part of the family, we can give ya' a mini Johnny? You can help raise him! It'll also keep the family going ya' know? We always gotta put family first, but Y/N is family, let her be your family too!" You nearly choked on your food as he spoke, sure you too have been intimate already, it was one of the reasons he kept you alive. You've accepted the fact that you are never going back home, and this is your family now, but aside from Johnny only Sissy really made any efforts to make you feel welcomed. Nancy looked at Johnny, she gave a thought to his words, he wasn't wrong. The family eventually needed to grow, you and Johnny would be the perfect ones to do so, and unlike Johnny she was now to old to raise a child all on her own, but motherhood- no matter how twisted her version of it was, did fill in the void she tended to feel. She walked up and extended her hand out to you. You shook it, feeling safe to do so since Johnny was right at your side. "Welcome to the family." She said, "I can't believe it! We are going to have a wedding! Can I help with making the dress?" Sissy said with puppy eyes and excitement you've never seen her express before. Everyone seemed excited and welcomed you to the family.

"Congratulations, you are now Y/N Slaughter." Johnny whispered in your ear that night when you both rested in his bed. You just looked into his eyes, as twisted as this relationship was, you have grown in love with this man. Maybe life won't be too bad afterall, you thought to yourself. You gave Johnny a peck on the lips and whispered "goodnight, hubby." Then closed your eyes and curled up besides him.

[nobodysdaydreams]

✨My Unhinged Visions for the TMBS Kids’ Villain Arcs: ✨

Based on this poll, and this post by @kaslynspeaks and @sophieswundergarten. They activated the brain bees, and you can blame them for this.

Warning: Insanely long post. I go through each kid individually, discuss a premise for their fall to villainy, and then I give you a hastily written scene which I did not proofread, that probably contains typos and misspellings. Some are longer than others, some end abruptly, some are a lot darker than others, but they all have happy endings so you're welcome for that at least.

I also kept it vague whether I was talking about the book or show characters so while I draw on elements from both, you can imagine most of these with either character.

Please enjoy!

I'll start with Kate Wetherall.

The Premise:

I picture her as a teenager or young adult for this. Her villain arc is pretty brief tbh, but I think that fits Kate. She'd impulsive and emotional and maybe even the most likely to go dark the quickest for those reasons, but she also has strong morals, and I don't think she'd fall very far, and I also think she might be the most likely to turn around.

Here's the scenario. The society has won, and now they've started working together to take down bad guys.

Kate loves it, but she starts getting carried away sometimes. Seeing men that are willing to hurt children the way that she was hurt sets something off in her. Sometimes she takes things too far, or acts impulsively in the heat of the moment. The others protest this, insisting that Kate only needs to use enough force to stop other criminals, not harm them.

Kate feels frustrated, not only because she feels like her friends are criticizing her, but also because this is what she's good at. She's the one who fights. Why should she hold herself back when the others can use their intellect to their full potential?

The others don't realize how much of this is connected to Kate's inner turmoil, her feelings of frustration. They simply remind her that "that's not how they do things."

But maybe it should be, thinks Kate.

Maybe it would send a message. Not just to the criminals but to the children they hurt. To let those children know that someone cared to make sure that the people who hurt them paid for what they did. So that they wouldn't feel abandoned. So that they wouldn't feel how Kate always felt.

So she works in secret. She couldn't bear another condescending lecture from her father or the others. I picture her leading a sort of vigilante circus themed squad. They're all strong and athletic, obviously, but they're also incredibly creative. Whatever a bad guy's fear is, they can use illusions, contortion, and all sorts of creepy imagery to make it come to life. To make them pay for what they did. To break them, to reduce them to nothing.

And Kate as a leader finally feels respected, valuable. For once, she isn't told to hold back her impulsiveness, her emotions, her abilities, her creativity. In fact, she's praised for her lack of restraint. And she tells herself she doesn't need to feel bad either because after all, these are the bad guys. They deserve it.

But eventually the others find out. Kate tells them there's no point in another lecture, but this time, they don't lecture. They don't even know what to say.

Because they're horrified. They're horrified that Kate could ever think that punishing people like this, criminals or not, is a suitable use of her talents. Kate reminds them that they always got to use their intelligence to their full potential whenever it suited them.

And now, the scene (picture this occurring in a circus themed lair. Idk just role with it. Brain tired):

"I was the one who was too much," Kate reminded him.

"You three were the brilliant ones. The psychic, the scholar, the genius. But me? I was just the muscle. The "creative" one. The impulsive one. The liability," she scoffed.

"My talents were only useful when they were directed by my intellectual superiors. What you wanted. What you planned. But here? Here I'm a leader, Reynie. I get results and I get justice my own way. And I'm not interested in hearing another lecture about acting impulsively, or going too far, or about how all of your know so much better than I do. So save it."

"Fine!" snapped Constance. "Then we'll spare you the lecture, if you want to skip straight to the fighting."

Kate paused, and the look of betrayal in her eyes was evident.

She thought they might be here to lecture or disapprove of her methods, but had they...had they really come here to...to...

Kate shook her head.

"I don't want to fight you. And even three against one, was all know that would hardly be a fair fight."

Sticky winced and held himself back from the overwhelming urge to nervously polish his spectacles, remembering how many times he'd watched his friend take down men (grown trained men) like it was nothing.

Constance, still bitter from Kate's deception, raised her fists.

"I'd still take those odds."

"Constance-" cautioned Reynie, but it was already too late.

"Very well," said Kate.

Her followers stepped forward to assist her, but Kate motioned for them to step back.

"Trust me," she said to them. "I appreciate the offer, but I can take handle this one on my own."

The others knew that wasn't a lie.

Kate raised her own fists and addressed the trio.

"You always thought your minds made you so much better than me, so let's see how well you can actually do without me. Good luck. You'll need it. Even if I do intend to go easy on you."

"Katie-Cat?"

Kate groaned.

"This is none of your concern."

"I should say that it is," her father replied, stepping out from the shadows to confront his daughter. "Considering I raised you better than this."

"Raised me?"

Milligan immediately realized his mistake.

"Katie-Cat, I-"

"Didn't mean to leave me?" Kate snapped. "I know Dad. I know you didn't mean to. No, you just chose a dangerous job working for a dangerous man and put your own life at risk, when you knew your child had no one else but you."

The hurt in her father's eyes made Kate regret her words, but only for a moment.

After all, it's not as if what she said wasn't true.

"I'm sorry," said Milligan earnestly, realizing perhaps for the first time how much his child was still hurting.

How much she'd been lying every time she said that she was fine. How much she'd been hiding her pain from him, from everyone.

"It wasn't fair to you. I promise, I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you."

"Really?" said Kate. "Well then. I suppose there is something you can do for me."

"Anything Katie-Cat," said Milligan softly, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Stay out of my way," Kate ordered, looking her father directly in the eyes, doing her best to look tall, strong, and intimidating.

Milligan's face hardened slightly. He knew that look. It was a look he'd seen in his daughter's eyes before, her fearsome determination, her resolve not to back down.

It was normally one of the traits that he admired most about her.

"I can't do that Katie-Cat," he replied, seriously but still with a tone of affection in his voice.

"I love you too much to let you waste your talents and potential like this."

Kate laughed.

"Of course you do," she replied, gesturing for her followers to step forward.

"It looks like I might need some help after all. But try to go easy on them," she advised her followers. "Most of them aren't trained fighters and their biggest crime is shortsightedness. Hardly worth our best or most painful efforts."

"Don't fight them," interrupted Milligan. "They don't need to fight this. Just you and me."

Kate eyed him suspiciously.

"You hurt your leg last month," she reminded him. "You're not in peak fighting condition. If this is some kind of trick-"

"It isn't," replied Milligan. "You and me. If you win, we'll let you keep your operation and leave the decision up to you. If I win, you end this."

Kate's face became thoughtful, carefully considering his offer.

"Uh Milligan," interjected Sticky. "I know that you're pretty well trained, but you were just injured, most doctors wouldn't recommend-"

"Deal," said Kate, charging forward without warning, as Milligan side stepped.

It was hard to tell who had the upper hand. Milligan was stronger and had a clear height advantage, but he was still recovering from his injury and Kate was faster, and more flexible.

They held nothing back, but still neither of them succeeded in doing much damage, mostly because the skill with which they dodged the other’s attacks was just as impressive as the fighting techniques they employed.

"Tired old man?" she asked.

"Oh believe me," said Milligan. "I haven't even started yet."

They fought for hours, until at last Kate found something else that gave her the upper hand.

Environmental knowledge.

One of the circus' tricks was a series of platforms that were triggered to fall when you stood on them for a certain amount of time. They sent the performers falling to either be caught by a fellow trapeze artist or (worst case scenario) fall into one of the safety nets.

It was simply a matter of cornering her father onto one of the platforms, and removing the bridge.

"The fall is too far, and we haven't put the net out," Kate reminded him.

"You lost. Surrender."

Milligan looked down for a moment, judging the distance, then he looked back up at his daughter.

"No," he replied.

Kate was confused.

"What do you mean no?" she asked.

"I mean no," Milligan replied. "The fight's not over until it's over. I don't surrender."

"I'm not putting the bridge back," Kate reminded him. "Whatever trick this is, I'm not falling for it. Don't be stupid."

Milligan stood firm.

So did Kate. They were both stubborn. Like father, like daughter.

The seconds ticked by.

"20 seconds," Kate reminded him.

"Milligan we'll find another way!" Sticky yelled. "Just surrender, it's not worth it."

"This is my daughter," Milligan replied. "She'll always be worth it."

Kate scoffed.

"15 seconds," she announced.

Milligan didn't respond.

Kate still waited. Her father was fast. He only needed a few seconds to make it back in time, and would no doubt run out the clock.

10 seconds.

9 seconds.

8 seconds.

Kate groaned. Of course he would play it like this.

She walked over to the bridges control panel and pressed the emergency stop button.

It wasn't working.

Kate felt as if her heart had stopped.

"It's not working," she whispered.

"Kate it's your dad!" yelled Reynie. "You won! You won okay? Just press the button, put the bridge back!"

"It's not working," she yelled, the panic rising in her voice.

4 seconds.

"DAD-" she yelled, turning to her father, the father she'd missed for so long, the father she loved, the father she didn't want to lose again.

2 seconds.

"I love you Katie-Cat."

0 seconds.

The platform dropped.

And so did Milligan.

And so did Kate, diving after her father, clinging to him tightly as if that could somehow save him.

The others surrounded them as soon as they landed.

Kate was mostly undamaged, Milligan had broken her fall.

But he wasn't moving, wasn't responding.

"Dad?" Kate whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Dad I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I-please don't go. Please. I can't lose you again."

Kate reached down and hugged her father.

"You won," she whispered. "You won okay? Just please come back. I love you."

At once, Kate felt her father sit up and wrap his arms around her, wrapping her in an embrace that even she could not escape from.

"Victory," he announced, looking down at his daughter.

"And I love you too Katie-Cat. I'm sorry for the dramatics. I assumed you'd be able to put the bridge back in time, but it's always nice to have a plan B."

"What-" said Kate, who was too relieved to see her father alive and well to be upset that she had been tricked.

"But, but the fall-"

"I've fallen before," Milligan reminded her. "From greater heights than this. You get better at falling the more you practice. Just uh...don't tell Mr. Benedict. Or Number Two. Or Rhonda...perhaps it would also be wise not to mention this to Miss. Perumal."

Kate sighed.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just got tired of your criticisms."

"We didn't mean to sound critical" said Reynie. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But you were never a liability. You're our friend, and we need you."

The others nodded.

Kate sighed again and smiled.

"I need you guys too," she admitted, as her friends joined in hugging her.

------------

And now for Constance Contraire.

The Premise:

I picture her being pretty young in this, but not too young, teen years at the most. The story here is that Constance succeeds in destroying the Whisperer and saving the day.

But this time, it leaves her mind damaged, seriously damaged. So damaged that her powers become uncontrollable and scary. Some government researchers offer to help Constance, but Mr. Benedict, suspicious of their intentions, turns them away. Nicholas vows to protect Constance, insists that they will figure out what's wrong, that they will help her, but then one day Constance ends up hurting him on accident, basically incapacitating and nearly killing him. At this point, there isn't much left to do, accepting outside help is the only option. The others promise to visit Constance and make sure she's taken care of and happy until Mr. Benedict recovers.

They never get the chance. Something goes wrong, and the story is that Constance is on the loose and dangerous, causing out of control destruction and physical harm. The police and government agents try to bring her in several times, but all end up hospitalized from the encounter. The society seeks Constance out, and they eventually find her hideout.

The Scene:

"Why are you here?" demanded Constance.

"What do you mean "why are we here?"" asked Kate.

"We're here to bring you home Connie girl."

Constance scoffed.

"Connie Girl."

They always acted like this. Like she was still a tiny defenseless child. Even though she was now older than the others had been when she'd first met them, they still acted as if they were her older siblings.

Or at least, they did with their words. But their body language sent an entirely different message. They stayed on the other side of the room, not daring to approach her, not daring to put their arms around her like they would have done before.

"You're afraid of me," she observed.

"Constance, we care about you!" Reynie protested.

"That doesn't mean you're not afraid."

Reynie didn't answer. There wasn't much he could say.

They'd all seen what she could do. And Reynie had never been a good liar.

"We just want to talk to you."

"We're talking now," observed Constance.

"Not here," said Kate. "Not in some secret lair or hideout where you've hidden yourself away."

"Where then?"

"Home. Your home."

For a moment, they can see it. The longing in Constance's eyes.

Home.

She quickly puts that aside.

"Right," she responds. "Home. Where the government will no doubt be waiting to take me away again."

"What? No!" Sticky exclaimed. "Constance, we would never let that happen! Mr. Benedict would never let that happen!"

Mr. Benedict.

She disregards the name and the emotions that come with it.

"And yet, it's happened before," she replied.

"You even let them take me.”

Her friends hung their heads and looked away at the reminder of their guilt, the unbearable weight that they would forever carry with them.

“They told you what I did to them. But do you have any idea what they did to me?” asked Constance.

“What they put me through? The things they made me do?"

"We thought they could help you Constance," said Reynie. "You were scared and in pain, and they offered help, and we wanted to help you. We didn't know...if we had known-"

"You would have stopped them?" asked Constance. "How? By asking nicely? And would you really have let me stay with you? After knowing what I could do to you?"

"We would have figured it out," Reynie insisted. "We're a family."

Constance laughed.

"Family? Gosh Reynard, you always were so childishly sentimental. It's a terrible weakness of yours"

Sticky and Kate briefly glared at Constance on their friend's behalf, but Reynie could hear the pain behind his little sister's insult.

He took a small step forward.

"Constance please-"

"Get away!" Constance barked, a hint of panic in her voice as she took a step backward.

"You know what will happen. Don't be stupid. Just leave. It's what's best for everyone. I'm a monster now. I'm only going to hurt you. And deep down, you all know it."

"Constance?"

The voice came from behind her. Constance didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

The others were immediately horrified. They'd told him not to come; he'd promised not to come, for his own safety.

But they should have known better. Nicholas would not be kept from his daughter.

"Dad?" Constance whispered weakly, then silently chastised herself for having spoken aloud.

She refused to turn around.

Nicholas still hobbled towards her. Constance could feel his mind. Still split, shattered from what she'd done to him, but slowly healing. And his emotions towards her...pain, lots of emotional pain, but no anger. No, there was something else, something far more powerful.

Love.

The others warned Mr. Benedict back, but he ignored their warnings. He wouldn't be deterred. His daughter needed him.

He limped over and knelt down, as best he could for an injured man so that he could address his child.

"Constance," he whispered. "Look at me please."

Constance turned away and shook her head.

"Please," her father whispered.

"I-I can't," she responded, a tiny tear rolling down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Nicholas looked at her sadly, but affectionately, as if she was the most precious thing in the entire world.

And to him, she was.

"Oh...oh my dear Constance-"

"You should go," she ordered, pushing her father away.

"Go now. Or I'll hurt you again. I'll hurt them too," she threatened, but there was no malice behind her words. Only fear, fear that her threats might not be empty promises.

Nicholas ignored his daughter’s threats.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

He could feel her emotions in his mind. His daughter's power, too great and uncontrollable for her tiny body, made so much worse and so much stronger by what she'd been subjected to. Her power radiated from her mind, seeping outward and infecting every mind it came in contact with.

Nicholas let it come. In fact, he embraced it fully. The pain didn't matter. If that was the price he had to pay to keep his child safe and let her know that she was loved and forgiven, then that was a price he would gladly pay.

"Oh Constance," he whispered, as the tiny girl collapsed into a puddle of tears. "There's nothing you could do that would stop me from loving you."

--------------

Now for Sticky Washington.

This is largely inspired by @sophieswundergarten's amazing fics and posts about Sticky and his anxiety. I can't possibly link all of them, so if you're not following her and reading her fics, that's your own personal problem, and I pity you.

Sadly, I didn't write a reunion scene between him and his aunt or the Washingtons for this, because I wanted it to kind of work for the book or show versions of the character, but please know that in the full version of the fic that exists only in my brain, Sticky does reconcile with his family.

The Premise:

Sticky is older in this, an adult, maybe 20s or 30s. The story is that even after the Whisperer, after Curtain, the nightmares, the anxiety, it still haunts him. He can't get over it, but at the same time, he doesn't want to burden his friends, he can't burden them.

So he distances himself. He doesn't want to, but the voice inside him tells him that this is for the best. He would only burden them; he would only weigh them down. The others aren't sure why he's doing this, but assume it's because he wants his space and they try to respect that.

The anxiety, the fear, the flashbacks, it all gets worse. Finally, Sticky can bear it no more. So he does the unthinkable.

He builds his own version of the Whisperer. Not to control people. Just to calm his anxiety. And maybe, as the show version of Sticky says "[...] put good thoughts into people's heads. Make them feel happy." Nothing intrusive, nothing exploitive, nothing selfish. Just things like advising people to wear a seatbelt when they drive, and use dangerous equipment properly, and basically anything else that's unsafe or would make Sticky nervous. After all, what's the harm in that? He's making the world safer. And it's not like his old friends would care enough to bother with him.

But that's where he's wrong. The society detects the machine's influence, and they know it's not Curtain. They don't want to believe that it's Sticky, even when the evidence points to him. But eventually, they have no choice but to accept the truth and confront him.

The Scene:

Sticky looked up at his visitors from behind his desk. His office was nice, not extravagant or expensive, that wasn't his style, but it was neat, clean, and organized. As for Sticky himself, he was hardly the boy he was when he'd first met his friends. He was older, taller, stronger. Handsome. Confident.

Reynie told himself that he had nothing to fear. Appearances might change, but underneath it all was his friend.

"Sticky-" he began, but Sticky cut him off.

"It's Mr. Washington now," he corrected in a professional tone, trying his best not to reveal how much he'd been hurting. "Though I suppose I could allow you to call me George, for old times sake."

"Okay Mr. George," said Constance. "Having fun playing supervillain?"

Sticky frowned.

"If you came here just to criticize me, then I'll have my secretary show you out. Better her than my security," he added, glancing at Kate, who had her hand on her bucket.

"That's not why we're here," said Reynie quickly.

"Oh?" said Sticky, raising an eyebrow.

"Your family misses you," clarified Reynie, hoping to appeal to his friends' sentimentality.

"Well they have no reason to miss me. I brought them some lovely property, send plenty of checks, and cover all their medical expenses, which is all they ever wanted me for anyway," said Sticky.

"Would you ever go to visit them?" asked Reynie. "I um...I don't want to get involved in your family's personal lives. But I think they might want more than money. I think they...I think they really miss you."

And then he sees it. A sense of longing, and a yearning in Sticky's eyes.

But it vanishes almost instantly.

"I'm a busy man," Sticky reminded his friends. "I have businesses to run."

"Honest businesses?" asked Kate suspiciously.

"Yes," said Sticky, glaring at her. "You might disagree with my personal hobbies, but I assure you, I make my money fairly."

"You call brainwashing the world a hobby? Really Mr. George?" asked Constance.

Sticky sighed.

"I'm fixing the world," he lectured them. "Crime is down, addiction is down, people's rates of anxiety and depression are down-"

"Including your own no doubt," muttered Constance, but Sticky ignored her.

"-and it's all thanks to me," he finished.

Reynie looked horrified. Kate looked disgusted.

"But you're doing it without their consent!" Reynie protested. "And you don't know what the side effects could be."

"And the way you're justifying it," said Kate, "you sound exactly like-"

And then she stopped, realizing that what she was about to say would have gone too far, way too far.

But it was too late. Sticky knew what she'd been implying, and his faced morphed from a look of uncomfortable and false politeness to sudden rage.

"Like who?" Sticky snapped, and his friends jumped at the sound of his voice. It was so much louder and deeper than it had been when he was a child. It was a man's voice now, but it wasn't just the maturity or the confidence of his voice, but the anger it possessed. The harshness that had been so absent from him as a child.

Constance was the first to recover.

"You know who "Mr. George,"" she answered, glaring at her former friend.

The other two glanced at each other. What Constance was saying was cruel, especially after all that man had put Sticky through, but it was also undeniably true.

"How dare you?" whispered Sticky, the anger rising in his voice.

"How dare you compare me to him? AFTER EVERYTHING HE DID TO ME!"

Sticky rose from his desk.

His friends had never seen him look so furious.

"Sticky-" began Reynie nervously.

The others took a step backward.

Sticky's self-consciousness and compassion suddenly returned to him when he saw the fear in their eyes.

That’s the thing about anger. If you are someone who is small, short, nervous, mild mannered, someone who is perceived as “weak”, then your anger, no matter how justified, is often belittled, patronized, or dismissed as "cute", unless you can find a way to be taken seriously, to yell louder, to make yourself more threatening. Of course, the other side of this is that if you are someone who is tall, strong, loud, powerful, and intimidating, then it doesn’t take much anger to make others afraid of you, even if that’s not your intention, unless you learn to moderate your emotions and remember how threatening you look from their perspective.

For most of this life, Sticky had been on one end of this spectrum, always needing to yell louder and be more insistent to make his voice heard. Now he found himself on the other side of the spectrum. But although his height, physical appearance, and position in the world had changed, the emotion felt the same to him as it always had, and he often forgot just how frighting he could seem.

Even to those who had once called him friend.

Sticky sighed and took a deep breath.

"I'm not like him," he insisted.

"I'm not giving myself fame, money, power, or anything like that. That's the difference. When I say I'm doing this to help people, to make them feel happy, I mean it."

He looked at his friends, glancing over their faces, trying one last effort to get them to understand.

"You know me," he reminded them. "You know I wouldn't do that. I'm not doing this for power. I'm doing this for peace."

There was silence for a few moments.

"We know," said Reynie.

"We know you are Sticky. And we know you've been hurting. We should have noticed earlier, and we should have offered to help sooner. I'm sorry. But whatever your intentions are, that doesn't make this right."

Sticky didn't reply. He knew that Reynie was right; he always was.

"What do I do?" he asked, his voice suddenly sounding softer.

"Stop this," said Kate. "Turn yourself in. We'll help you, we'll- we'll get you the help you need. So you don't have to feel this way anymore."

Sticky was surprised.

His anxiety...his fears...he tried to act like it didn't bother him anymore. He didn't want to be a burden. He didn't want to drag his friends down with him.

And yet they were here, right next to him, not as adversaries, but as friends.

They didn't have to come. They didn't have to forgive him.

"You've needed help for a while," said Constance, her voice suddenly gentler and far more compassionate then even her friends were used to hearing from her.

"Haven't you George?"

Sticky didn't answer. He could feel Constance tentatively poking her way into his mind. But he didn't fight it. He sat back down and nodded silently, feeling weak and exposed, the reality of his pain revealed at last.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought I could deal with it on my own but I...I can't. I'm not- I'm not strong enough. That's why I needed to do this. I thought I could help not just me, but others, because the truth is I...I'm just not enough. I'm not strong enough."

His friends ran forward to hug him.

"You don't have to be dummy," said Constance.

"None of us are. That's why we have each other."

--------------

And finally, Reynie Muldoon.

Ngl, I went pretty dark for this one. He's the only one I actually gave a body count to (I know I'm sorry don't blame me blame the bees and I apologize if you think any of these are OOC I'm trying my best here. Also Reynie is older in this and there are darker themes mentioned so consider this your warning). This is based on @kaslynspeaks amazing post here and her awesome comments on my poll where she talks about the whole book conversation where Reynie can "only see snakes" so he lets himself be bitten and becomes a snake himself? Genius. 10/10. Set off the bees for sure, so thank you for that.

The Premise:

This one blends a lot of elements from the others. Like in Kate's situation, the society has won, they're fighting crime, but Reynie becomes disillusioned, though for different reasons. He's older than Kate was in her version, he's late 20s, 30s, maybe even pushing 40. It took a long time for him to get to this point.

You see, at first, Reynie is fighting for what he believes in: bringing bad guys to justice, keeping his friends on the straight and narrow, and doing what's right. But being a leader has a cost. He's always the one emotionally supporting the team, he gives more than he gets back, and that starts to take a toll. As he gets older, he encounters more bad guys, ones that make him sick to his stomach, but what's worse is the lack of people who seem to care. The politicians with empty promises, the corrupt police, the ordinary citizens who look the other way instead of helping. Nothing changes. There's always another crisis, another bad guy, another problem that needs the society, and the society needs him. So Reynie drains himself until at last he can give no more. Finally pushed to the brink by what he's seen and the sense of hopelessness and isolation he feels, he makes the decision.

He starts by cutting himself off from the society, at least professionally. They respect his decision, but are surprised by it. Once he's free of that obligation, Reynie tells his mother he's getting a new job and needs some space right now to figure himself out.

What he actually does is get involved in the criminal underworld. He tells no one of course, they'd never approve. But Reynie has learned that there is one thing that can control a snake: a bigger snake (or as the expression goes "there's always a bigger fish").

And his intelligence, knowledge of others, leadership skills, and experience with criminals quickly leads to Reynie becoming the boss of the criminal underworld (how did he do that so quickly? What is this "criminal underworld" I keep mentioning? Like. Is it a gang? The mafia? The ten men? Some random group of thieves? Idk, don't question it, just use your imagination).

Anyway, now that Reynie has control he determines what crimes happen, when they happen, and how many people get hurt. Which he views as damage control. He keeps his real occupation hidden from his mother, telling her he's involved in important government work, and it's better that she didn't ask questions. Eventually he completely cuts off ties with the rest of the society, knowing it's only a matter of time before they put together what he's done.

They do figure it out, eventually, and they're heartbroken of course. They can't believe it. Especially that Reynie, out of all of them, would ever do something so terrible. They want to confront him, but they can't find him.

Until one day they receive an anonymous coded message, tipping them off to his location.

Reynie's security team laughs when they tell them they're his friends. Their boss doesn't have any friends, and no one shows up to see him without an appointment unless they either have news that can't wait, or some kind of death wish. And he certainly never takes social calls.

Still, they let Reynie know about them. And of course he recognizes their description. Turning them away unharmed shows weakness, which his team would never accept from their leader, but Reynie doesn't want to harm his friends either.

Which gives him only one other option: to confront them. He has his security bring them to his office.

The Scene:

The men roughly shoved them into the room.

"These people came to see you boss. They said they were friends of yours."

Reynie looked up at his friends, who had just been pushed unceremoniously into his office.

"Thank you," he nodded, waving his hands to dismiss his security team.

Then he sighed.

"How did you find me?"

His friends didn't answer at first.

"That's what you want to know?" said Kate. "You're running the criminal underworld, and that's the first question you have for us? The route we used to get here?"

"Not the route. My location. How did you find me?" asked Reynie.

"Anonymous tip off. A coded message," said Constance. "Seems some of your men aren't as loyal as you thought."

Reynie looked disappointed, but shrugged.

"That's not all that uncommon in this line of work," he clarified. "Whoever it was will be dealt with accordingly. Snakes will be snakes"

"But since when are you one of them?" asked Kate.

Reynie sighed.

"I don't expect any of you to understand."

"You're right Reynie," said Sticky. "We don't understand. You were always the best of us. The one who reminded us who we were, what we stood for. How could you ever think something like this was right?"

"The best of us?" Reynie repeated disbelief.

"I was the average one, the one who wasn't special. I wasn't a genius, or a psychic, or some sort of super athlete. I was just me. I'm not special."

"So that's why you're doing this?" asked Constance. "To feel special?"

"No," said Reynie. "I'm doing this because it's inevitable. The cycle just repeats itself. We fight another bad guy, we almost fall apart, I hold us together, it takes everything out of me, I finally recover, and then we go around again. The only way to end the cycle is to become a part of it."

"Takes everything out of you?" repeated Sticky. "Reynie, we had no idea-"

"It's fine," dismissed Reynie. "Like I said, this is for the best."

"You really believe that?" asked Kate, shocked her friend could ever really think something like this was right. "You...your men...you're criminals! The worst criminals!"

"We are," agreed Reynie. "I won't deny that. But when you make yourself the king of the snakes, you decide how poisonous they are. These men follow me because they know I'm intelligent and powerful enough to let them get away with the crimes they want and have all the money and power they desire. That's a better deal than most other bosses could give them. But they also know that comes at a price, that certain things are off limits. If I hear any rumors of human trafficking or exploiting or harming children, well, then I'm sure to make an example of them. To remind them that I'm in control and that I have my standards."

"Make a example of them?" said Kate, her eyes widening.

"That...that doesn't mean what I think it means...right Reynie?" asked Sticky.

Reynie couldn't help but feel a little ashamed as he watched Constance, who had always looked up to him as her protector, her big brother, take a step away from him when she saw from his face that his words meant exactly what Sticky thought they meant.

But he didn't back down.

"They were human traffickers and people who abused children," Reynie said simply, trying his best to remain logical. "You can't say they didn't deserve it. If I wasn't running the criminal underworld, someone else would, someone who would be just as cruel, maybe worse, and would likely choose less deserving targets. It's no different than carrying out justice."

"And who made you the judge, jury and executioner?" asked Constance, crossing her arms.

"We're going to stop you," said Kate, raising her fists.

"Really?" said Reynie, his expression turning dark at his friend's declaration.

"I think you'll find that harder than you expect. You three might have been the talented ones, but I was the one who kept you together. I know you. I know how to build you up, and I know how to bring you down."

His friends looked horrified by the threat. Even worse, they looked hurt.

"I don't want it to come to that," Reynie clarified. "But it will if you stand against me. I don't want to hurt you, but trust me, I can. Worse than you can imagine. And I will. I know how it sounds, but believe me when I tell you that this is the only way."

The others were shocked by his words. Reynie cared for them; Reynie protected them.

How could he threaten them so easily? How could he have become so misguided?

Sticky thought a bit about what his friend had said, and tried one last time to reach him.

"We understand where you're coming from, really Reynie, we do," said Sticky. "But this isn't the way to do things. You're still hurting people in other ways, and I agree that people need to be brought to justice but this...this isn't the way to do it."

"We didn't know it was so hard for you," added Kate. "You were our leader Reynie. And you're right. You held us together, you kept us strong, and you were always there when we needed you. To remind us who we are. I'm sorry we didn't appreciate that more. But now it's our turn to be there for you. To remind you who you are."

Reynie didn't answer for a moment.

"And who do you think that is?"

"Our friend," said Kate.

"Some who is kind, gentle, intelligent, wonderful, and anything but average," added Sticky.

"Someone who knows deep down that this is wrong," said Constance, poking her way around the edges of Reynie's mind.

"Someone who's better than this."

Reynie couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You...you really think that?" he asked. "After everything I've done... you really think that's who I am?"

"We do," said Sticky.

"We all do," agreed Kate.

"I know it," said Constance, as Reynie felt her enter his mind, unearthing the guilt, shame, exhaustion, and pain that he'd kept buried for so long, as well as the love, compassion, and the values he'd put aside and tried to forget about.

They were still a part of him. An unused and forgotten part, but nevertheless, they were still there.

"Your friends are right Reynie."

Reynie turned to see his mother enter his office.

"Amma?" he asked in a small voice.

"But, but I don't understand- how...how did you-"

"For the leader of the criminal underworld, you have pretty bad security. They're easy enough to knock out with a few blow darts and they are much too unsuspecting of a simple old woman," his mother replied with a sad smile.

Reynie's heart dropped. She knew?

One look in her eyes told him everything. Of course she knew. She knew when he started staying out late and never telling her where he was going, when he came back with scars and a haunted look in his eyes that he couldn't explain, when he begged her for the millionth time to stop asking questions, when he moved her into a bigger fancier private house and had the property constantly surrounded by security guards because of a "promotion" that he refused to explain.

His mother was kind, but she certainly wasn't stupid.

And then Reynie realized.

"The coded message. You brought them here."

Dipika nodded.

"You needed them Reynie. You needed to be reminded of who you are."

Reynie hung his head.

"Amma-" he began, but his voice trailed off.

What could he say? What words could ever make it up to the woman who'd taken him in, who'd given everything to him? There was nothing he could say, not when she knew what he'd done, what he'd become.

"Oh Reynie," said Dipika, walking forward to hug her son, who trembled at the affection he knew he didn't deserve.

"I know," she whispered. "I know you're sorry. And I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I wasn't enough. I'm sorry I couldn't reach you. But it's not too late. I promise Reynie. It's never too late."

At last, Reynie broke down, returning his mother's embrace as the three people who refused to give up on him even when he'd given up on himself stepped forward to hug their friend.

---------------------

I apologize for nothing, or maybe I will if enough people tell me this was disturbing and that they didn't like it, which honestly? Fair enough. Anyway, have a lovely evening! 🥰

[lorkai]

Chapter I; Family

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: After literally a year I've finally finished writing the first chapter and the second is half-way done. But rereading this I realize I was being too demanding on myself, this chapter is fine. And despite the immense delay, I hope y'all like it as I do. I'll post it later on AO3 as well, the link to my profile is in my pinned post if you want to read it there btw. → Necromancer Au masterlist here.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Mc was written gender neutral but in the original idea Mc was a man. So uh if there's any typo about their pronoun pls let me know and I'II fix it, I proofread two times but sometimes something can escape me. Also Lilith's alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Word account: 3K

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Tagging: @dicetheroll @sunshinebea (It's been quite a while so I understand if you no longer want to get tagged in this.)

Traditions can be boring sometimes. But you absolutely adored the holiday tradition with your beloved demons, sitting in the living room before Christmas dinner and telling horror stories. Well, it wasn't just horror stories that were told on that day, there were jokes, challenges and various pranks going on, it was certainly your favorite day and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

Discreetly you watched the faces of each of them react to the tale of terror Lucifer was telling so intensely, clutching your cup of hot chocolate as you listened.

The fire in the fireplace lit his dark hair and his dark voice carried the same touch of drama even though he had already told several stories throughout the night, you watch as the older demon adjusts his glasses over his nose and takes a deep breath before continuing his unhappy tale. His grave words escape your ears as you can only thank whatever deity your path and theirs have crossed, because they were your family and they became very important people to you. You loved them and you knew they loved you too.

They were people you could no longer imagine living without. Each of them was special in their own way and they all brightened up your mornings, even if they were yelling or fighting as early as six o'clock sharp. You still managed to find joy even in the midst of your irritation through the chaos they created and dragged you into.

Beside him, Mammon lets out a loud scream and throws himself on top of the person closest to him for comfort. Everything happens in slow motion in your vision, he and Levi roll off the couch onto the floor and both struggle like fish out of water, completely in the middle of a senseless panic. The avatar of greed hugs his brother's torso with all the strength he has while the avatar of envy tries to flee. And a round of laughter spreads across the room like the hot fire that runs through their bodies and you try not to laugh so hard to spare them some dignity, but it's impossible once your gaze and Lilith's meet. And you burst into loud laughter as Satan helps them back to their feet.

"Grow up, Mammon." Asmo sneered in a cynical chuckle. His muffled voice was almost a whisper between the fabrics of the scarf he was wearing, and he burrowed deeper into the covers for a source of lingering warmth.

He resembled a kitten wrapped like that and Solomon seemed to have thought the same, pulling him closer and whispering something in his ear that made him laugh softly. They finally embraced again, Asmo resting his head lazily on the sorcerer's chest as the other man played with the demon's peach hair.

There's a certain simplicity to the gesture that almost makes you envious. Almost. You know you could throw yourself on top of both of them and snuggle into Solomon's chest too. It wouldn't be the first time after all

Belphie laughs at his older brother, hiding his laughter in his hands. The youngest of the brothers squirms in his seat and with the same malice as ever, places his cold foot on Mammon's bare ankles, which makes him jump once more and glare at him.

"Why did you do that?" Mammon, embarrassed and mumbling something under his breath, came to sit beside him again, so close that their knees were touching as Belphie laughed along with Satan. The avatar of greed sneaked a path to where your hand rested and wrapped it in his, warm, comfortable and your fingers fit together as if your hands were made for each other. You didn't say anything, sparing him embarrassment as you watched his reactions to the story Lucifer kept telling.

If anything, Mammon would rather work full time to make honest money than sit there and listen to one more tale of ghosts, goblins and fairies that makes him shudder all the time. But he didn't dare to oppose that tradition, not when it marked a really special period for each of them. The day you definitely went to live in Devildom with him and his brothers.

What was utterly ironic, however, was that at the end of the night he would most likely seek comfort in your room even though he knew that was precisely where the spirits he feared sought refuge.

You were a necromancer after all and everyone knew it.

"What, um... what happened next?" Luke asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. His heart clenched at the pessimistic thought that something might have happened to the fictional people in Lucifer's history.

Avalanche shadows and enraged mystical beasts were reflected between his blue eyes - few details you were paying close enough attention to remember, the youngest of the angels almost didn't want to think about the end of the story, but Simeon's hand on his shoulder gave him courage enough to keep still and wait.

  There was an expectant pause in which a smile graced the morning star's lips and he continued promptly after Barbatos poured him some more melancholy coffee. "To this day, they say that if there's a storm and you're walking around the mountain, you can see her spirit wandering aimlessly, looking for her children." Lucifer finished with a sigh, running his fingers through his messy hair, and then ran his eyes over the faces of each of his brothers and their guests.

He seemed satisfied with the collective shock that spread and then looked at you, searching for some surprised expression on your face or something, only his pride kept him from pouting when he realized he wouldn't have any of your expressions.

Stories like that didn't scare you for a long time, precisely because you've been dealing with situations like that since you were just a child. Still, the impact hit you hard when you processed all the information, not because it was scary, but because it was sad to imagine a woman who died during an avalanche and left her children helpless behind, on the verge of certain death that would befall them in the absence of her protection. It was just sad and yet, real. Just like so many ghosts who came to you begging to help their children, to tell you they were dead, or to offer solace.

If someone asked you how you see death, you knew exactly how you would answer. Melancholic and real. Things you loved during your life, things you were proud of, and all your deeds would be forgotten, buried in an endless round of study and work, of pain and hardship, of arrogance and greed, regardless of whether they were a good person or not. But it was also scary and cold, and bad for those who couldn't move on.

Whispers of approval at the story ran between the brothers. Lucifer was, much to Satan's displeasure, a very good storyteller. He confided in you once about how he tucked his brothers and sister into bed and told seven different stories every night when he was just a young archangel. In your mind a cute image popped up whenever you remembered that; just a young looking Lucifer putting little kids in their beds, tucking them in, kissing their foreheads and reading silly stories. It was hard to imagine him doing such trivial things when he was always so serious and austere all the time.

At least, you thought, after all the years that had passed he started acting more carefree like he used to be, according to what Mammon told you.

Five long years have passed quickly since you first came to Devildom as a mere exchange student, and in just a few days it would be six years. You still marveled at that fact on Christmas nights, mainly because everything was so different and surreal. You never imagined that talking to Lilith that day would take you so far away from human things and show you something unique, but here you are, happy, complete and feeling accepted among them. Thing humans would never do because they don't accept different people and you know it.

You remember all too well what happened when your so-called best friend found your grimoire and all the rumors she spread about you. Just because she was afraid of the unknown instead of trying to understand it. And mostly, you remember what your parents and doctors did to your older brother, thinking about him even after so long still makes your heart ache. How do you get over something like that?

"You forgot one detail, Luci." Lilith said suddenly. She was leaning over a small table, selectively choosing the sweets she would like to eat and then cramming as many as she could manage into her mouth at once. The lack of manners made her brothers all laugh at the way she resembled a squirrel with her cheeks puffed out, but even the embarrassment on her face didn't stop her from eating.

"The woman tends to follow the person she sees. So to get rid of her, you must guide her to the light, it's, um, pretty similar to what my kid here is used to doing since they were just a little sprout. Oh, how proud I am of them, you all should see them in action!"

The comment in a maternal tone warmed your heart and you almost wanted the former angel to wrap you in one of those warm hugs that took all the anxiety away, just like she did when you were just a child. But you restrained yourself and made a toast in her honor, raising your cup and drinking away with a goofy smile on your face.

"Come to think of it, how come we've never heard a story from you, Mc?" Satan asked. A cat pad was draped over his arms as he clutched it to his chest, the fabric mimicking the warm fur of a kitten. The blonde sipped his hot chocolate while waiting for you to respond with great interest in the topic.

But you knew he was just waiting for a chance to ask you to tell the story you briefly mentioned a few months ago.

On the one hand, it was true that they didn't know much about your histories or past in general. The brothers knew only brief details that Lilith told them when asked what kind of things you had been through together, some sad ghosts wandering and asking for help, the sound of footsteps on the floor of your room during the night and figures that you always saw out of the corner of your eye. But it was always fanciful, almost a sugar-coated lie.

And on the other hand, you didn't know if you'd like the idea of recounting all the thousands of sad and brutal cases on a night like the one when you celebrate family and unity. And there was so much blood and pain and torture in them that it could turn the stomach of anyone listening.

You could almost feel the presence of the people you've helped coming back to you, their hands rubbing your back or their warm breath on your neck, urging you to tell their stories, coaxing you to talk about what bothered you about each one of them. But that sensation only lasted a second and then your gaze hardened and you focused your attention on the flames devouring the charcoal and the crackling sound they made.

"I'll let you decide if you really want to hear such stories, but I must warn you that they are violent." You said it wisely. Then you leaned over and poured yourself some more hot chocolate, taking small sips to savor every drop of that precious liquid you hadn't had in a while. "I already have one in mind, in case the answer is positive. Not too violent and not too quiet, good enough for the Christmas mood."

"It's a must to have you tell the next story Mc, I can't stand listening to Lucifer talk all night anymore." Satan growled. The emerald eyes were focused in your direction, then quickly his focus returned to what he was drinking and to something Solomon had commented on some kitten post on Devilgram.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and began dramatically massaging his temples across the room, his melancholy coffee still curling upward in steam. And seeing that, Belphie quickly joined Satan just to make Lucifer's headache worse.

"I fully agree!" He suppressed a yawn before continuing to speak in a soft tone. "We've heard many stories told by Lucifer, Simeon and Barbatos. It would be nice to hear one that actually happened."

Leviathan and Mammon, however, seemed oblivious to everything going on around them. The two were playing a new game together that had just been released. The name was The Nephellim's Deal or something like that, you weren't sure, but you knew that several important figures for the history of Devildom were present in the game. Various wars, deals, and betrayals were elements you remember Levi talking about for several minutes.

Perhaps if you have time, you'd play it later and then you could compare your opinions on the game.

"Yummy sweets, they remind me of the ones we ate on our trip to India." Beel muttered suddenly, swallowing all the sweets on the tray and licking his lips so that not a single grain escaped him. You looked at Barbatos at the exact moment he trapped a sigh in his throat and smiled imperceptibly, tired and still wearing his white apron.

The poor demon has been baking cakes and pastries since early morning. You didn't have as much aptitude as him when it came to cooking, but your hands were aching after helping him for so long, the knowledge of his techniques, however, was too interesting for you to let a chance like that pass. Besides, you couldn't trust Solomon with cooking and you couldn't ask Luke to stay in the kitchen all day when you knew he wanted to play in the snow with the others.

Simeon smiled kindly. "I know you liked them so I brought these sweets directly from India, Beel."

At that moment Beel seemed to be hit by a cupid's arrow and he smiled widely. "Thanks Simeon. They were delicious."

"Boys, make up your mind please, Mc is impatient." Noticed Lilith. The angel was arranging the stockings over the fireplace in a specific way as she hummed her signature slow song, she almost seemed to float in the large coat that Lucifer always wore over her shoulders, smiling smugly as she managed to get her brother to hand over his favorite coat to her. "Don't torture my poor child too much or they'll get cranky."

You suppressed a giggle and waved your hand. But there was as always a ring of truth in her words, the brothers took ages to agree among themselves and the heady heat of the flames was enough to make sleepy sighs leave your throat and have you second-guessing whether you want to stay in the classroom or return to your quarters and sink into the comfortable, fluffy bed for a nap before Christmas dinner.

You let your head fall on your own shoulder as you waited for a statement from your other friends, humming the same song that Lilith was humming minutes ago, but more brighter and faster.

"I'll be happy to hear any stories, but I'm going to put Luke to bed first." Simeon signaled to the young angel who was sleeping in his lap. He got up and walked away towards the guest room that was given to him slowly, looking as tired as the others. And you swore you heard a yawn coming from him, but the sound was buried by Levi who let out a scream at that moment.

"Watch where you're going, Mammon!" He scolded his brother. "Why I'm playing a precious game like this with you?"

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just that ghosts and spirits are a darker topic than the horror stories we hear." Solomon stared at a fixed point, lost, he too had had his experiences with the supernatural. Instinctively he took his hand to Asmo's curls and twisted strands of his hair with his fingers, calmly patting Asmo's head, making the demon of lust purr violently. "But if you guys want to, I'm all for it. The only time I heard you tell any stories was during our practices together and they were all so short."

Lucifer turned to Diavolo and Barbatos with his eyebrows raised in mute question. But before they could even say anything the sound of the main doors opening made everyone fall silent and look at each other, noting that five people were still missing from their little celebration. Their voices and footsteps echoed down the hall quietly as if they owned the place and the shrill sound of Thirteen's laughter reached the room long before them.

And like a good host, the Morningstar calmly got up and went to meet his late guests. The sound of their happiness echoed in his deep voice as he greeted them warmly, you could hear the smile on his face.

And you took the opportunity to get up and stretch. Your feet were numb, but your mind seemed more awake and obviously the memories were resurfacing as well as Lilith, who was already smiling. She rubbed her hands together in an exaggerated manner and like a mother, she began to fix your hair and the collar of your shirt. "I kind of miss those times really, I always enjoyed running around and having fun with the ghosts."

"Are we going to tell the story about the drunken ghost? Or should we tell about the dancer and the mimic? So many stories to tell, I'm excited!" Lilith excitedly quoted the stories she remembered, counting on her fingers, her eyes shining in a special way as the faces and names of those people passed like a blur in her head, it's been a few years since most of them will happen. Those memories were as precious to her as they were to you and not for a second did you doubt that this wasn't the case, after all it was because of you that she had come back to life.

For the third and she hoped it would also be the last she was revived - but without dying this time, she was back in the world of the living, now as a half angel, half demon. One white wing and one black wing. Until now you didn't understand what went wrong with your reanimation spell to have caused this. But as long as she was alive and healthy, you assume it doesn't matter what she is. Plus she was now like Morgana, a nephellim.

She was finally back to life and that was all that mattered, you, her and the brothers could live happily ever after now, with nothing to worry about, with the exceptions of the usual chaos and silly fights that made everyone laugh.

You wouldn't trade it for anything.

"So… what do you intend to tell us?" Asmo eyed the two of you with interest, another purr leaving his lips as Solomon continued to rub his scalp and leave warm little kisses on his forehead. He looked sleepy, but curious enough to keep listening to you. "Oh, I already know! You could tell me how you met Lilith, for example."

"Or the story involving the S." Belphie smiled like he knew something his brothers didn't. And he sent you a particular look, a look that already communicated what he was thinking at that moment. He wanted to hear that story. For the third time…

Spoiled brat! You throught, smilling.

Lilith let out a laugh and gave her brother a shove with her shoulder. It was her way of telling him to be quiet, but you could already tell by the way everyone was looking at the two of you that their curiosity had been piqued by the comment made by the demon of sloth. They wanted an epic tale with spirits.

"What kind of story is this?" Beel asked his twin brother, stifling a small yawn against his hand. "Is it a scary one?"

It depends. You assume that human nature was more frightening than the facts that occurred, but yes. That was one of the scary stories you didn't like to remember, it reminded you that ordinary people at first sight could nurture bad thoughts and commit even worse crimes.

"Okay, let's tell the story of S." You took a deep breath and smiled, watching how the fire lit up the face of everyone present in that room. You were all about the dramatic effect.

And you sat in Lucifer's armchair, turning his coffee cup in your hand before you decided to taste it to see if it was good - big mistake, the taste was horrible for humans and Solomon laughed in your face almost like a little boy who won his favorite candy.

You were sure that he already tried the drink. "Awful, an outrage, I don't know how he drinks it! Uh-huh, completely insane, bitter, there's a distinct bitter that's really good, but this one? Bad…"

Barbatos laughed too. "I think you forgot, but the coffee of melancholy turns bitter when a person who likes you prepares it."

Oh yes. It makes sense.

Despite being strict, Lucifer was very soft with you. So sweet you didn't even have to eat candy to taste sugar on your tongue. You continued drinking his coffee with a chuckle.

But a clearing of his throat caught your eye and an unimpressed Lucifer glanced in your direction, a smug evil smile growing on his lips as he returned to his conversation with Hesperus, his counterpart and Nightstar, and his daughter, Morgana.

You didn't know what they were saying, but it seemed important as Diavolo glanced in their direction for a brief second.

The other guests began to sit in the vacant seats, Mephisto and his brother, Iblis, whispering softly and laughing, leaving several gift boxes under the Christmas tree and looking in the direction of the other people. You knew why since Mephisto had asked you what kind of things the brothers would like as gifts. But Thirteen was already heading to the coffee table for something to eat while she struck up a conversation with Beel, an elegant scarf draped over her shoulders perfectly enhancing the outfit she wore.

"So, uh, I suppose I can start?" You whispered to Lilith uncertainly, but the girl shrugged.

"Just a sec. Here!" Morgana handed you a small package. An unexpected gift and you smiled in her direction, thanking her softly.

"Uh…Okay." You muttered uncertainly. You left the box in your pocket and rubbed one hand over the other, waiting for everyone to settle down to hear that story. Mammon and Levi were still playing high enough to interrupt the immersion of the story, so Lucifer took their D.D.D and stuffed it in his pocket, sending them a severe look as they opened their mouths to complain.

At that moment Simeon returned, still drowsy, and sat down in his place. With everyone paying attention to you, you let out a long sigh and closed your eyes letting all the memories of that first event come flooding back. Everything you felt, everything you saw and lived, and with a smile you began to narrate the events.

"At that time I was six and my family was moving to the countryside..."

[lambdollsxx]

how i make scripts aesthetic on google docs (on pc) <33

Part One - Images

! Due to Tumblr's 30 image limit, I'll have to make this in parts. This one revolves around how I sort pictures to make them look aesthetic or just more organised in my script. + I'm not the best at organising tutorials sometimes but I'm trying to not make this confusing <//3

Ignore any typos and errors, thankyou. If you need me to re-explain anything, please feel free to ask. I feel like I haven't explained properly but, idk what else to do, lol :,)

Page isn't broken, to avoid messing up the way images are organised.

— ◦◦◦

What do I use?

Other than Google Docs (obviously), — Fontspace | A background remover [my mains: 1, 2] | Pinterest/WeHeartIt/Google search, and other sources for pretty pictures, pngs, etc. 🤍🌙

bundling images

Using the different text wrapping options, I found that it helped a lot more to "bundle" images together, so that things look prettier + more organised.

! example

This is pretty simple, honestly; Fontspace provides font text as pictures, transparent bg and not, — so organising the text from it will fall under the tut for this bit.

^ These are the text wrapping options. The first one is the default and limits text placement/movement, the other four allow you to move text where-ever on the document (especially if print view is off) but each do different things.

In order of settings, examples (press images to see properly):

! tip : If you're bundling images that "overlap" too much, make sure to crop at least one (or however many needed) past its actual size so that it won't be a pain in the ass moving them later on.

- You may also use "behind text" for one of them, if it helps, so that it's easier to select the images, this also applies to using image over text (examples in each image).

what I mean:

Using these features, I'll—as per the aesthetic of my script—sort things accordingly. Get creative with the way you're doing this, and keep experimenting 'till you're able to make stuff look the way you want, lol.

"BuT DaRLIng wHaT Do I dO wItH ThIS iNFo??!?!?" bitch idk find an aesthetic 💀💀

like those 2016 fashion sticker books or smthn, idk- whatever u like-

Going into the aesthetics more ;; I usually pick diff aesthetics for each script and refuse to script until I find a pretty one LMFOAOAO- But I especially go for inspiration from (Korean?) bullet journal aesthetics which include lots of image bundling and customised tables.

Why korean ones specifically? Idk the difference, but using "Korean" as a keyword gets the stuff I'm looking for. 💀 But I also search for little pngs I want to add to my script; and if it's a false transparent png or has any background, I use my background removers to make it an actual transparent png.

And, sometimes, I like to search for colours then use my snip tool to screenshot them really thin, like those brown-beige borders you see in all my posts, then use them in my script like highlighter lines, like-

That's pretty much it, really.

! examples from two of my scripts

Fontspace fonts apply as well. One thing about Fontspace is that, you can change the colour of the text ;; as well as the background.

The brown colour is the text's colour, the blue one is the background's colour. You can of course choose to have no background, but it's there as an option.

I don't know of any features where you can save a colour but that's maybe me being dumb ;; but what I do is set a certain colour (i.e. blue) then use the colour adjustment in google docs to change it to black, red, or whatever over colours r in the script.

i.e.:

Anyways I'm p close to the image limit, so that's it for this post.

I hope this makes sense bc explaining this was harder than I thought. 💀💀 Once again I can clear anything up if needed

! tips

Keywords you can use for tiny decorations, are "clipart", "[aethetic name] clipart transparent png", "[aesthetic name] sticker png transparent", etc.

You can have a look at the aesthetics wiki for ideas for your script

Fotor is what I use to crop images into different shapes, and it is how I got the circle/heart shaped pictures in my documents ^-^*

...I'll add more when I remember them.

next up ··· customising tables ✿

[clockwayswrites]

There's been a slew of new followers so:

Hello! Yes, I have an ao3! It's PaperPuffin

The in progress works will go up ao3. If I get more than a part or two posted here, it's firmly in the WIP status. I don't want to have more than two or three fics updating on ao3 at once for my sanity. It will just take some time. What goes up on ao3 has been rewritten, edited, and sometimes beta read! That means that some things are behind there than what is here. They may also have scenes not post there. You can find links to the tags for any of my currently wip fics in my pinned post.

Eternal love for fanart and podfic so open permission there! My WIPS are not prompts, though. Anything that is a prompt I label with my 'how promptous' tag. Thank you for respecting that! (Saying this because there have been some things tagged by others as prompts when they're not.) If I use a prompt, I'll link back to it in the first post!

Please no concrit, even if it's just pointing out a typo! There is a reason everything gets edited from here to ao3. I have numerous neurological blips around words and disabled hands. I need to be able to keep this tumblr low stress or I would never post anything here.

Comments and tag talk give me life! I don't always reply to everything, I an exhausted bean, but know I read them all and love them. If you have questions I will try to answer them!

If you wanted to be added to a tag list, please comment in the latest part of that work or I may miss it! I update my tag lists before posting the next part.

I think that's everything... oh! I also have an art only tumblr @clockwaysarts. Now that's all. Stay delightful, darlings!