#i mean he emits the right colour

[rabbitsonthemoon]

Soaking off my nail gel. Definitely did not shape the foil around my fingertips into claws so I could pretend to be Mephiles and make dramatic hand gestures. What a silly idea. I've never commited a shenanigan in my life.

[sexlapis]

࿔ read me to sleep…

ᰋ nanami kento x gn!reader

ns4w, fluff, dirty talk no sex, very suggestive, finger sucking, petnames: baby, sweet thing, darling. soft nanami, nanami babies reader, nanami reading to reader, talks about cocks and holes 🤷‍♀️, d/s dynamics

. synopsis: after a long week, nanami helps you to relax.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc: 1.1k

a/n: me writing a fanfic? who would’ve thought?? extract is from ‘the professor’ by charlotte brontê. i enjoyed it but apparently it’s not very well liked. anyway, here’s me being very normal about nanami.

masterlists

*

your cheek rests on the cool, ivory porcelain of the bathtub. warm water envelopes your body, coming all the way up to your chest which is petaled with tufts of scented bubbles. the orange gleam of the sunset casts a gentle, easy light over the bathroom, colouring the bath water and the supple skin of your body.

it’s quiet. the only sounds being emitted come from the soft ripples of the water when you move and your husband’s low, soft speaking. your eyes droop.

“are you even listening?”

nanami sits on a wooden chair right in front of the bathtub. on long days like this, most of the time on a friday, you both just need to wind down, relax, unravel the knots curled up in your bones, ease the ache inside your head and erase the never ending thoughts in your mind.

‘…yet been my experience of life, I had once had the opportunity of contemplating, near at hand, an example of the results produced by a course of interesting and romantic domestic treachery. No golden halo of fiction was about this example, I saw it bare and real, and it was very loathsome. I saw a mind degraded by the practice of mean subterfuge, by the habit of perfidious deception, and a body depraved by the infectious influence of the vice-polluted soul. I had suffered much from the forced and prolonged view of this spectacle; those sufferings I did not now regret, for their simple recollection acted as a most wholesome antidote to temptation. They had inscribed on my reason the conviction that unlawful pleasure, trenching on another's rights, is delusive and envenomed pleasure; its hollowness disappoints at the time, its poison cruelly tortures afterwards, its effects deprave forever.’

he wears his white, button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his suit jacket long gone, his tie loose and dangling down, and dark slacks sit on his legs very nicely. and, your favourite thing of all, he wears his reading glasses, the pair that he only wears around you.

“yeah, yeah ‘m listening. just tired.”

you have, in fact, not been listening that much.

if you weren’t slowly dozing off to sleep to the smooth timbre of his voice, you were blatantly admiring the cerulean veins that travelled up the pale expanse of his forearm. and if not that, you watched with half-lidded eyes how the tendons of his large hands moved when he turned a page, or the sight of the pink pillows of his lips in motion, or the prominence of his adam’s apple or-

“you really aren’t listening, are you?”

this time, you had the sense to feel a little embarrassed, feel some heat rise on your face. “uhhhhhhh…”

nanami tilts his head, definitely not looking at your chest, “what is going on in that little head of yours?”

“what-nothing! i just, i-,” you sigh, licking your lips, unabashedly staring at the bulge in his slacks “you just look sexy.”

he chuckles, his eyes crinkled and the sound rumbling through his chest. nanami moves his chair forward, closer to where you rest your head, and leans down slightly.

“i don’t think it’s just that,” he utters. nanami then raises his hand to your sweet, languorous face, coated with droplets of water, your wet eyelashes framing the tender yet desiring gaze of eyes. his heart beats a little faster.

he cups your cheeks with one big hand, trailing his index and middle finger to your plush lips, asking for an opening. you do so gladly, moaning quietly when his thick, rough fingers sit and press on your tongue, saliva seeping around his fingers. “i think my little darling just wants my cock inside of that sloppy little hole of yours. isn’t that right?”

his brash words and his fingers, they are inching further and further towards your throat, make your face burn and a dull, throbbing pit of want curl up where you want him the most.

you blink drowsily, almost half asleep at this point, nibbling on his fingers in your mouth, giving them one long lick. “yessss…yes i want it inside of me so much.”

“oh, baby,” nanami coos, “i’m only teasing you. i know you’re tired…”

you whine. it’s muffled over his fingers, which you continue to suck on softly. his eyes darken.

“don’t tempt me,” nanami groans, briefly relishing in the feeling of your mouth suctioned over his fingers, “you know i can't resist that little mouth of yours...”

his fingers leave your sighing mouth, now glistening and wet, connected by a silky line of gossamer to your lips.

nanami hums, pleased by the debauched, satisfied expression plastered on your face. he swipes your lips with your own spit, making them gleam in the shine of the sunset. such actions make you picture his taut, large length, how uses it to generously rub his expense all over your lips and cheeks, using and painting your face like his secret, erotic canvas.

unfortunately for you, your fatigue outweighs your lustful cravings. you let your eyes fall shut. a hand finds itself on top of your head, caressing there softly. a purr leaves your throat. nanami wills himself to ignore his very obvious desire for at this moment.

“i think it’s someone’s bedtime.”

nanami pats his thighs and stands to get your towel. you pout at the loss of stimulation on your head, but it’s quickly wiped away when nanami unplugs the bath, helps you out of it with his hand in yours, and wraps the towel around your damp body like a cocoon.

you waddle over to you and nanami’s shared bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. you were going to sleep so well tonight.

“nanami.” you whisper to him as he takes off his watch. “nanami, come here. read the rest of the chapter, please.”

“darling, you’re about to fall asleep.”

“yeah but i want you to read me to sleep.”

nanami huffs, a small smile on his face. the bed dios where he sits down next to your head, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap, snuggling comfortably. his hand finds your head to caress one again, making you chirp with glee.

“alright. just this one chapter and that’s it.”

you let him read to you.

at first you listen, you really do, but after a few minutes his words turn into white noise, the low-tone of his voice rumbles through you, the warmth of his lap acts as a pillow and the final blow is when he decides to draw circles over your temple with his thumb.

before you know it, you’re gradually drifting off to sleep, into a serene dreamland, forgetting about all the stress you experienced today.

nanami closes the book and carefully manoeuvres you from his lap and onto the bed properly. he knows you’ll probably wake up shortly, considering you’re still just in your towel, but for now, he savours this moments and how endearing you look, curled up and snoring in your fluffy towel.

“sweet thing…” he kisses your forehead, resting his lips there fore a moment, “my sweet, little thing…”

*

…♡

[delirious-donna]

Dangerous Games [Hoshina Soshiro]

an: the Vice-Captain may be your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to the wicked games he likes to play… now, sit pretty.

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x female reader

warnings: cockwarming, dangerous liaisons, semi-exhibitionism (I guess?), Soshiro is a wicked boy but he adores you truly

Masterlist

If you tried to recall what possessed you to think this was a good idea, you were left with absolutely nothing in mind. It was a dangerous game, one you never thought Soshiro would be up for playing, but here you were, sat on the Vice-Captain’s lap surrounded by comrades and the likes in the communal movie room.

Yes, you were more than one of the operatives charged with ensuring the safety of the division’s officers, far more. You were the girlfriend of Vice Captain Hoshina and whilst it still made you giddy when you thought about it, it was no secret. Soshiro wasn’t the type to be too overly affectionate with others around, but he didn’t shy away from touching you when the opportunity struck. A hand on the small of your back, a lightning-fast kiss pressed to the top of your head, a cheeky grope of your behind when he was certain no one was looking. But this? This was something altogether new…

The room was dark with the only light being emitted from the projector shining a movie onto the wall with vivid colour. It felt hot, of course it did, the sticky feeling of being smothered by too many layers itched down your spine and you wondered if the others felt it too. There were far more faces in here than you had predicted when you first fell into Soshiro’s little game—it felt more like a trap now—and you burned with the knowledge that they could discover the depths of your depravity at any moment.

In sheer desperation to distract your wayward mind and the reactions of your body, you tried to remember the plot of the movie. To at least try and follow along with what was happening but it was impossible when the man beneath you was doing his damnedest to ruin you so completely.

The spread of wet kisses started innocently enough at your cheek. They moved lower to your jaw, long clever fingers angling your head so he could suck little marks at your pulse and the delicate bone at your clavicle. A curtain of silky amethyst hair hid his face from you, obscuring the area of his next attack which he disguised as showering you in affection. You were no fool. You could feel his smile against your clammy skin, and it only worsened the predicament.

You rutted your hips, barely an inch but it was enough for the almost silent groan to echo from the depths of his chest. A strong, capable chest that was pressed flush against your back, a hand at your waist to hold you steady in his lap. Immediately you stilled, breath caught fast in your throat, but it was too late for that.

Soshiro’s teeth latched on your ear, tugging the lobe between those perfectly sharp incisors before a strained and quiet voice flowed inside. Despite the strain, he sounded amused—almost manic.

“That was naughty, little flower. Do you want to get caught?” he asked, and the very idea of one of your friends or colleagues turning their attention to the couch that only you two occupied made your cunt clench.

It was all the answer he needed.

His sharp inhale of breath was more audible this time, and you fought the urge to squirm against the hold that was tightening with every passing second. His arm was like a steel band around your waist, the voice that of a devil that was exhilarated by the circumstances he’d found himself in.

“Oh… it’s like that, is it? If only your colleagues knew how filthy you were being right now. Tsk tsk.” His tongue clicked softly against his teeth, a feigned admonishment that left your head falling back to his shoulder and your face pressed into his neck.

You inhaled the scent of skin, the salt mixed with something light and almost floral from his body wash. The temptation to lick a long strip from below his ear to the swell of his Adam’s apple was interrupted by his cock massaging against your front wall. The engorged tissue of your pleasure spot lit up your veins like fireworks, and only turned up the dial on the neediness pooling both in the pit of your stomach and between your sticky thighs.

He knew exactly how to make you melt, the merest flick of his wrist and the right intonation would see you putty in his hand. It should be annoying to be so easily read, but honestly, you appreciated the efforts he had gone to to learn you so intimately. Soshiro was a dedicated man, to his job and to you, it was heartwarming to feel so cared for, even when you found yourself in promiscuous situations such as these.

You knew that, had you been alone in here, you would be riding him to completion and to hell with the consequences. He knew it too and that only tightened your jaw, your molars grinding together as you tried your very best not to move another inch. The Vice-Captain might not be laughing but one quick peek into his eyes told you that he was barely holding back from doing just that.

Hushed conversation from your friends stole your -attention away from the shining humour in his violet eyes, cheeks burning hot as you glanced around the room but didn’t dare to meet anyone’s eye. The moment passed, action returning to the screen, and you exhaled a long-held sigh of relief.

Instead of smacking his chest like you wanted to do, you worked on steadying your breathing, grateful of the breathing techniques taught by the very organisation you worked for. You tried to ignore how every minuscule movement was ticking you closer to yelling to hell with it and bouncing on his dick until your eyes crossed and the band of tension in your belly snapped. You ignored the wet arousal that drooled from your cunt, clenching around his length behind your modest skirt, and you definitely didn’t think about the stains you were likely leaving on the front of his pants…

His fingers splayed beneath the hem of said skirt, rucking the fabric closer to your knee until his hand could disappear beneath. You grabbed up a cushion and pressed to your lap to hide whatever his intent was whilst your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. You almost moaned aloud at the grazing touch of his nail against your puffy lips, followed by the circular motion of his fingertips teasing your swollen clit. It was enough to make you bite your lip until the iron tang of blood hit your tongue.

Warm breath fanned your cheek, his lips so close to your ear that the sensation tickled down your spine.

“Make it through the movie, sweet girl. Then I promise I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk straight, okay?”

All you could do was nod. There were no words in your head, and quite frankly, you didn’t trust your voice not to give the game away completely. It was imperative you last, that you make it through this mission and receive your reward.

Soshiro smiled against your pulse, nipping playfully at the wildly erratic rhythm beneath the skin. God, he adored you so much.

“That’s it, sit still for me.”

[xxblairexxss]

Little legs

Pairing : dad!Charles Leclerc x mom!reader

Theme : Fluff

Summary; Charles had his first skin to skin time with his newborn twins.

Another short one because I’m always obsessed with dad Charles 🥹

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You tighten the blue coloured ribbon and took the scissor to cut the ends of it. “Ah! There you go! It’s a little crooked but–“ You tilted the ribbon a little to the right but it went back to how it was. “Whatever. This will do.”

You slinked to the living room and peep at your husband who was watching a compilation videos of animals on his phone. He emitted a couple of little laughs and chuckles, eyes locked on his phone and completely unaware of your presence.

You placed the box behind your back and took a few more steps where he could see you at the corner of his eyes.

“Hi, honey! Thought you were asleep?” He turned off his phone and stretched out his arms, expecting you to hug and cling on him like you always did.

“No, I don’t want to sleep.” You shook your head, your hand holding the box was still on the back of you waist as you tried to hide your smile.

“Okay?” His smile widen as he looked at you up and down. “Then what do you want, baby? What’s with that smile?”

“I– you know our second wedding anniversary is in a couple of days, right? A week, actually!”

“Oh, no..” His mouth widen when you took out the wrapped box behind your back. “I haven’t gotten you anything yet, baby.”

“It’s okay! I just wanted to give you an early gift.”

He took the box and kept on his hand on your legs as you took a seat by his side, your knees bumping against his. “Can I open it? Do you want me to open it now?”

“Open it now, honey. Go on! It’s a little crooked.” You pointed at the blue ribbon and giggled, your body leaning against his arm as he chuckled along.

Charles pulled on the end of the ribbon and it went loose. You sneaked your hands around his arm as he opened the box, revealing a small customised Ferrari shirt. “This is cute! It’s for me? A little small, don’t you think?” He laughed and looked at the back of the shirt where it has number 16 on it with a word daddy on it, causing his lips went into a thin line.

“Y/N? What does this mean?”

“There’s more in the box!”

He gave you a glance before dipping his hand into the box and took out three pregnancy tests with the words “pregnant” written on the small screen of it. “Wait, are you serious? We are having a baby? Like a real baby?”

“Yes! A real baby!” Your squealed became a mumble when he wrapped his arms around your waist, one hand was still gripping on the shirt and pregnancy test.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna be a dad! Baby, I’m gonna be a dad!”

“You are!” He cradled your face and you saw his teary eyes that he tried to blink away. “Are you crying?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are!” You giggled.

“I can’t believe we are having a baby, honey. Thank you. Oh my God, I really didn’t see this coming.” His lips met yours, sending a tingling sensation to your body as if it was the first time ever.

He didn’t bother to hide his tears when you found out you were having twins a few weeks after.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You went to labor a few weeks early, which was expected since it was a twins pregnancy. Your labor went for 36 hours and you had to push for 6 hours long. The pain was unbearable but Charles was such a big help. He never left your side ever since you started feeling contractions, giving you encouraging words while his hands always on your waist and shoulders to give you a massage and ease the pain a little.

You were laying on your side, feeling drowsy after the tremendous hours of agony when you overhead one of the lovely nurse asked Charles to take off his shirt for the skin-to-skin time. He pulled his shirt over his head and sat at the couch by your side when she came with one of your twins, the one that was bigger in size while the other one was getting cleaned.

“Relax.” The nurse laughed when she saw his trembling hand, causing you to chuckle as well.

He placed one hand under the head and neck while his other one to support the bottom as he brought him close to his chest. The newborn squirmed and let out a little squeaky sound before he settled into Charles’s arms.

“Honey, he’s here.” Charles whispered and your heart melt at the sight of them. He touched the little hand with his index finger and leaned in to peck on the newborn’s forehead, making the little one let out a “neh” upon the contact.

“Mommy and daddy were so excited for you, precious.” He stroke on the cheek and softly held the little legs that has been kicking around ever since he held him. “This is what had been keeping you up all night long, honey. This small little leg. Oh my god.” He laughed when he felt his kick against his hand. “That was so strong.”

“I told you it hurt when they kicked.”

“I’m sorry.” He gave a soft smile and mouthed the words I love you when the little one squirmed again. He drew in a breath when he opened his eyes, hands forming into a fist as they went flailing around. “Hi, precious.” He chuckled when the little one let out a soft “heh”.

He leaned in and touched his nose with the little one’s, making the newborn wriggled as he lightly brushed his nose down to his lips, making the little one opened his mouth and made another squeaky noise. “Daddy’s in love with you already.”

“Okay, ready for another one?” One of the delivery nurse approached Charles and helped him to position the little one from laying on his arm to leaning on his chest and she placed the smaller twin on the left side. “You are an expert now!”

He had the brightest smile, his green eyes seemed to be sparkling as he looked at you. “They are so small. Oh– there you go.“ He moved a little bit so he felt more comfortable as the newborns drifted to sleep from the comfort of their dad’s body heat.

He brushed his finger on the other twin, the one that was just being placed on his chest and beamed. “Mommy had to get a check up every two weeks just to keep on track with your weight. He’s smaller, honey.”

You laughed. “Yeah, his brother took up all the space.”

Charles extended one hand to hold yours while he wrapped his other arm on the newborn babies who were sound asleep. “This is the most expensive gift I have ever received, honey.” You felt his thumb stroking the back of your hand as his gaze went back and forth between the babies and you.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“I’m fine, love. I should be the one asking you that question. I just– just couldn’t really believe they are here.” Charles had always fell asleep with his hand on your middle ever since your belly started showing. It felt surreal for him to finally hold his little ones after months and months of feeling those little movement and kicks. “Thank you for all the sacrifices, honey. I love you so, so much. They are dearest to me but you are still my priority, I promise.”

“Are you ready for your daddy duty yet?”

“All ready and prepped. Oh– he’s gonna cry.” He moved his arm and held the little hand as he frowned when he started getting fussy. “Honey, what should I do? Help me.”

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! 😭 Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[pictureamoebae]

L = no ReShade; R = ReShade inc. ReLight

Quick little shader highlight for you.

You've maybe heard me talk about the Nice Guy Lamps shader before, which lets you add spotlights and create shadows. It's a nifty little shader but it's not very precise, and the shadows suffer from jitter and noise.

Enter ReLight by Marty McFly. ReLight is a fancy and more polished alternative to NG Lamps. The shadows are far better quality, and the lights are easier to position and edit. You can theoretically add as many as you want by editing the preprocessor definitions, but to begin with there are (iirc) two for you to play with. I've set it to four, and haven't felt like I've needed more than that so far.

In the picture on the right I've used three lights, each by the light sources in the room to simulate actual light being emitted from them. The two lamps on the right have a warm neutral light, and the candle on the left has a warm orange light. I positioned them so they sat exactly where the source would be. So, for example, for the floor lamp I positioned the light right up inside the dome of the shade, and you can see shadows being cast by the shade and light only coming down where it would physically be able to fall.

You can also use ReLight to add lights to portraits, making them really dramatic with different colours on each side of the face, or just to brighten the character so you can see their features more clearly. Below is a screenshot I took in Baldur's Gate 3 where I added blue light to the left and warmer light to the right.

It's such a handy little shader that can help add both realism and a hefty dose of drama to a scene. You need to feel confident tweaking shader settings to use it, and have to edit it for every single shot because the lights stay static in relation to the screen coordinates, so you'll have to move them where you want them each time. It's easy to do though, and lots of fun.

ReLight is one of Marty's premium shaders, which means you'd need to subscribe to his Patreon to get access to it. It's not currently listed in any of his tiers because he stopped working on it in favour of other things, but it works well and is probably my favourite shader at the moment. I'm yet to set up a shot that can't benefit from it in one way or another. If you are interested in using ReLight, you need to sub to the Path Tracers tier. You can cancel your subscription once you've grabbed it from his discord server, but you won't get access to any updates until you resub (it hasn't been updated in a long time though, so I wouldn't worry too much about that).

Paying for shaders is something that doesn't sit well with some people, and that's fair. I would only recommend getting this if you're enough of an enthusiast that spending 30 minutes setting up one shot is your idea of fun (not that ReLight takes that long, it can take just seconds sometimes).

[katsigian]

𝙒𝙄𝙋 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍⭒─────────────

Wahoo yippee I have something to show finally and it's all modding stuff right now. Thank you for the tags @morganlefaye79 and @pozerjacket❗️

I'm giving Valen, my main OC, his own custom hairstyle. I'm modeling a wolfcut for him in Blender right now and it's coming along good-ish. Which means that there's some fixing to do, like those short chunks that have to be moved and I have to give him a bunch of longer chunks curling around his neck, but overall I'm about 50% done (also nevermind the blonde, that's just so it's easier for me to see individual hair cards. He still very much is a brunette)

I fecking love wolfcuts and I've wanted one for Valen for ages so I finally put my head down and learned how to make it in Blender instead of hoping for one to be released one day 🌚

And secondly, I'm working on giving all of my OCs their own custom eye colours. Valen's are the first to be done and they're perfect; light, warm golden like honey. In certain lights, they look like they emit a glow

I'm also giving him his tapetum lucidum; modding this version in hasn't been as easy as painting and texturing his golden eyes, but they're coming along nicely. I'm testing out eye masks to see if I can give them reflectivity since his daywalker eyes don't emit their own light, they reflect light. That's still very, very much a WIP

And that's that! I'll tag some moots below the cut

As always, there's no pressure to share what you're working on if you'd rather not ♡ and I'm sorry if I tagged you and you're currently not working on anything, feel free to throw rocks at me. Let me know if you'd rather not be tagged! Or if you'd like to be tagged!

@rindemption @noirapocalypto @kharonion @calibvrn @wistereia @strafethesesinners @westealtoys @envergothash @enverflymm @mercymaker @daedricshrine @seeliefae @estevnys @dameayliins @alphanight-vp @hibernationsuit @swanfey @balverine2077 @baldurians @bhaalbabe @nokstella @quickhacked @thedeadthree @florbelles @humberg @leota-nexus @leopardmuffinxo @shellibisshe @peaches-n-screem @minastirithe @vanoefucks @hazellblogs @feykiller @duskfey @elvenbeard @wilxfyre @vincentmatthews @timaeusterrored @biofsauron @cherryrockpops @genocidalfetus @nightcxty @tellings @glitchinginthegarden @ravensgard @adelaidedrubman

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Instrument

@jegulus-microfic March 18 Word count 740

Previous part First part

They wandered through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts Castle, after Sirius and Remus, up to the seventh floor. They stopped beside the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his disastrous attempt to teach trolls ballet. 

“Right, everyone stand still and try not to think anything too hard,” Sirius ordered as he started to pace back and forward, muttering under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. 

Regulus opened his mouth to ask Sirius what he was playing at when a door began to materialise in the previously blank stretch of wall. 

Sirius stopped moving and grinned at the others. “May I introduce you to the Room of Requirement!” He gestured proudly at the door behind him. He flung the door open, and they filed in. 

The room beyond was enormous. Piles of broken furniture towered to the ceiling in precarious piles, and mountains of other lost treasures and broken objects littered the room.”

“It’s like a dragon’s nest,” Lily said, awed by the amount of stuff in the room. “A dragon that hoards rubbish instead of treasure.”

“Pretty shit, dragon.” Barty cackled as he peered into one of the closest piles and drove his hand into the middle of it. 

“Barty, you’re gonna knock it over!” Evan cried as he uselessly fluttered his hands in the air, not wanting to touch Barty in case he caused the pile to topple. Barty pulled his hand back, bringing with it a strange horn-like instrument.

“I always wanted a Dissimulator, but father wouldn’t let me get one.” He blew on the end, and a loud, obnoxious blaring sound emitted from the end of the horn along with puffs of green and gold-coloured smoke. 

Regulus stormed over and took it from Barty’s hands.

“No,” He said angrily. He went to throw it as far as he could into the room, but James grabbed it from his hand before he could. 

“Don’t be mean, Reg,” Regulus turned and glared at James. 

“If we don’t stop him now, he will play that thing until the day he dies just to annoy us.”

“He’s not wrong.” Barty snickered, not expecting to get his new toy back. Regulus grumbled. 

“You can have it back once we have the diadem and are safely back at Rosier House.” When he didn’t get any objections, he continued. “Right, do we all know what the diadem looks like?” Everyone nodded their heads, full attention on Regulus. “Okay, It’s somewhere in this room, so let’s find it.” 

They split up, searching their sections for the adornment. 

“Regulus!” Remus called across the room. They all immediately rushed over to where Remus had stopped. There, on top of an old cupboard worn by the bust of an unknown warlock in a dusty wig, sat the diadem. 

Regulus, Remus and Lily took over, forcing the others away so they could check for curses. Lily cast a few more charms that Regulus and Remus hadn’t thought of and decided together that it was probably safe to pick up. 

“I mean, it hasn’t been hidden very well, and it’s not been placed carefully. I feel like he might have been in a rush to get rid of it.” Lily thought aloud as Regulus reached to take the diadem from the bust.

“Helena could probably sense it and was trying to find him,” Pandora added, looking sadly at the beautiful tiara. 

“Bit sloppy, though,” Evan said as he squinted around the room. “Plenty of better hiding places to hide it in here, that,” He pointed at the bust. “Is a shit place to leave it.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—“ Barty started saying. 

“I swear if you say arrogant bastard one more time, I’m going to curse your dick off!” Regulus said over his shoulder at his friend. Barty moved his hands to cover himself and closed his mouth before quietly going to stand behind Evan. 

“Oi, don’t use me as a shield!” Evan complained.

Regulus turned the diadem over in his hands. It was definitely Ravenclaws. Engraved on it was Ravenclaw’s motto, ‘Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.’ He pocketed it. 

“Let’s get out of here before we’re caught.” 

They cast their disillusionment charms before they left the room of requirement apart from James, who threw his cloak over himself again, and they left the room exactly as they found it less one diadem and to everyone’s, apart from Barty’s, disdain a Dissimulator.    

Next part

[onyourhyuck]

Cupid’s Chokehold. | Mark Lee (M)

prologue- “You hate it don’t you..?” + “I think i fell in love with you again.”

tw- Romantic fluff. Established relationship. Mark is a dorky bf and y/n is giving chaotic gf on crack vibes. I dunno enjoy this cute scenario hehe. Slight spicy suggestiveness at the end. SUGGESTIVENESS. BIG SPICY ENDING.

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You couldn’t contain the most giddiest grin shaping on your beautiful round face. Your skin evaporating into reddish colours as your fingers fiddle open with the package that has been delivered to your doorstep just few minutes ago.

you’re probably wondering what you’re bought recently that is getting you so excited, to the point you dropped out of your favourite twitch streamer’s video and Usain bolted to the door like there was a sense of danger about to happen.

Well those questions will be answered the moment your lips left out a cackle of innocent laughs in the bathroom you were hiding away from. You reach the mirror as you simply put on the shorts.

Yes you’ve ordered shorts. But not just any shorts, these shorts are custom-made with your favourite human in your entire world. Your sunshine, your reason to smile and feel the emotion happiness. In this cruel world this person needs to be protected above all matters. It was your boyfriend’s face printed on the middle of the shorts.

You smirk watching yourself in the mirror. Imagination was not enough to imagine how your boyfriend will react to this, but you know this will be a good one.

Okay perhaps if he doesn’t know the money that went into this then MAYBE it might be a good one. But you couldn’t contain yourself! I mean it’s shorts with his face on it. If this doesn’t scream to people that you’re taken and he’s taken to other people then you don’t know what can.

You unlock the bathroom door swinging out, marching to your shared bedroom where your boyfriend was sitting in his desk with earphones, singing aloud lyrics that he’s been working on for quite some time. Mark has always been a musically talented boy, from the moment he was born he was thriving with talent. Creative talent. He’s so good at writing, wording words. You sometimes wondered how did you pull such an endearing golden retriever?

Mark couldn’t hear you enter the bedroom but he felt your hands wrap around the headphone sets to pull it down to his neck. He turns around watching your face with slight surprise, but when he saw you back away, twirling around with a face trying to hold in your laughter. Mark’s eyes widen at the shorts.

“Babe what is this Oh MY —..”

He felt gobsmacked. Lips quiver open as his jaw loosens and he lets out a gasp of disbelief. He stands up, his stomach begins to twist in historic laughs emitting the silliness in it. You laugh with him but he fell on his knees when he stands up approaching you, holding his face.

“I- y/n that’s my face?” He asks as you give him a nod, a proud one in fact. You turn around wiggling about the room.

“Yuppp you like it?” You grin.

He stays silent watching you in slight shock. You stop your sudden movements, pausing midway as you whisper again. “You like it right?” But he didn’t answer. Mark stands up from the floor, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh no.”

“You hate it don’t you?” You return back as your boyfriend slowly holds your hands, he tries his best to keep his eyes to stare at your face but everytime he gets reminded of his large face on your scaling crotch on the shorts he just falls down looking somewhere he shouldn’t be. Something about this was like a Cupid’s chokehold.

Because you look stunning in these ridiculous silly shorts even if it is quite hilarious, you somehow made it possible to look ethereal and unreal; how? He asks himself that in his whipped brain.

You were Cupid’s workpiece. It’s masterpiece. You were a running work of art that couldn’t live in an art gallery, because you would overtake everyone’s attention. Mark was a little slow at responding but he gathers his feelings, calming down, but inside you truly flustered him. Especially seeing your girlfriend walk in some shorts with her boyfriend’s face on it, that somehow makes him laugh.

But love you ten thousandfolds more. You were his Cupid’s Chokehold.

“You’re kidding right?” He brings up softly, hands latching on both your jawline lifting you to look at him without a complaint, you stare back with a sad pout, resembling a puppy. God how you make him go crazy over everything you do.

Whether it would be the most simplest thing. He keeps falling deeper and deeper.

“I think i fell in love with you again, Y/n.” Mark softly whispers kissing your forehead sweetly, planting his love seed on your skin like it were a canvas, he disorients your mind like a drug.

You let out a soft sigh of relief and a smile as you wrap your hands around the boy’s waist, pulling him in a relaxing lazy embrace. You giggle,

“Good! Because i got you a little something. Stay here wait for me.” You trail backing away out of the door and leaving for a short minute.

Mark blinks staying still like you’ve ordered. The anticipation was soon broken as you ran back inside the room with the same pairing of shorts but, with your face on it in the centre of the pants.

He grins ear to ear. Of course you had to get matchings, it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t do your girlfriend duty; to match every single clothing item with him.

“Oh of course you couldn’t leave me hanging huh?” Mark smirks as he walks towards you grabbing a hold of the shorts, you smirk rolling your eyes jokingly.

“Duh. That would make me a bad girlfriend wouldn’t it?” You shrug your shoulders proudly as Mark would strip the lower clothing, changing into the matching shorts. He laughs at himself in the mirror reflection.

“Y’know this is kinda hot.” Mark leans to you, sneaking his right hand on your waist as he catches you by surprise with the pull to his body suddenly. He looks down to your eyes then to those rosey lips he so craves right now. The boy kisses the girl, and you couldn’t help but to listen to your beating heart thumping so hard in your body.

You pull away from the kiss, teasing mark by running away from his love. He gives you an expression of distraught and a mix of whine, as he tightens the hold on your body, groping your ass a little behind in the shorts. You flash him a sly smile,

Tutting your index finger at his lips when he was leaning to your lips to kiss you once again.

“The shorts stay on durning sex, Mark. Can you work with that?” You whisper and Mark pushes your finger from his lips where he pushes you on the bed. He crawls on top of you, chuckling deeply with his husky voice that drives you on the edge.

He caressed your hips through the shorts fabric, humming in agreement.

“I wasn’t planning on taking them off anyways, baby, they’re the best part.”

Oh god, you’re definitely the cupid that has him in a chokehold.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu. Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates!

[holorform]

Electronic

..z..Z..zrtt..!

Krrt..!

There was a faint buzzing noise, similar to an electric sound. The floor seemed a little bit hard to rest, since when did the desk became so... cold?

His screen flickered back on as he rubs his face gently, he then noticed how dark this area was and the only light source he had is above him, a single light bulb. Barely any light emitted in the dark and long hallways. How did he get here..? He doesn't know…

He slowly sat up, propping his elbow on his knees as he looked down at his now dirtied palm. It must be the floor is very dirty… And-- wait is that blood stain on his palms? When… You know what? He's not going to question how did his hands get bloody. He stood up from the ground, dusting his pants off and begin to look at his surroundings. It was very cold, yes. The darkness scared him a bit, god knows who's inside the shadows and he doesn't want to know.

Out of no where, a noise of a light being turned on startled him. He turns around to see the lights above him had become multiple, like it was leading him to somewhere else safe or somewhere that is dangerous. Feeling his fingers were getting nipped from the cold, he shakily put his hands on his pocket hoodie to them warm. And so, he moved forward. Heading towards to where the dimly lights that leads him. He is not sure if he could trust the light above him nor himself to trust it to begin with, but he follows it anyway. It's not like there's a choice, what is he going to do in the dark anyway? He isn't going to stay there and get killed by some hostile entities. Nuh uh.

As he walks in the dark halls with lights to guide him, a soft light suddenly appeared in front of him. It had a cyan colour with a bit of pink-ish hue, then the light slowly formed into a sphere. Curious, he lift his hand, pointing his index finger at it, before lightly poking. And the next thing he knew, he was being sucked by the sphere.

"!--id ɒ Ꮈo ᴎoꙄ"

Krrt..! Zrt… Zzrt..!

There was that noise again, where is it coming from? His screen flickered again back to life like an engine being revived to drive. I think I made a rymth there without knowing… "ughhh….." He groans as he slowly sat up and rubs his face again, like he did when he randomly woke up in a strange dark hallway that he is not familiar with.

But this time, he is not in the hallway. Instead, he's in… some kind of electronic room thingy? With lots and lots of heads like his, and some of it has turned on and flash a brightly neon cyan and pink at him, almost made him blind by the sudden flash. He stands up from the floor, patting his pants to remove the dust off, while fucosing the lights in front of him. Is he… Witnessing a dead body? Er-- I mean… There's a lot of heads stacking up, similar to his head as TV, and what's this supposed to mean though? Some kind of warning? Or uh… Hint maybe?

He's confused, and doesn't understand. Like-- what is the meaning of these? Is it telling him something? He looked up and noticed the pink lights are above and the cyan color is below when looking down.

Then, a voice whispered to him. Right beside to where his ear should be.

My child...

Please....

Forgive..him...

Forgive him who? Who was that? And why does it sound like his mother...

"He--..!"

No it can't be, his mother is dead. There's no way she's alive and telling him to forgive someone.

"Hey...!"

But what does she mean by that? Did she meant father? Why would he forgave his father for his crime? Hell to the no.

"--d... talk.... --o... me...!"

SLAP!

Suddenly he felt his head facing on the side, with a hand print on his face as his screen flickered to life once again. This is the third time, he swear.

"Kid, can you hear me? God I thought you died, and what's with the mask? Not to offend you or anything..." He snapped back to reality and realized a person is in his view and he seemed to be in their arms, tilting his head to look at them. And-- what the...

No way...

Are his vision is deceiving him? How can...

How did a human get here?

You looked down at him in confused as he looks up to you, silently staring at you and noticed his screen slightly reflecting your face in it. Weird and strange, what kind of advance mask is that? That's cool to have one, though you bet it's expensive.

"?..ǝɹǝɥ ᵷuᴉoꓷ ...noʎ ǝɹɐ ʇɐɥM" He spoke, unfortunately you can not understand him. "I'm sorry what? Can you say that again?"

How did YOU get here..?

[circusmania]

SIN Chapter 8

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Notes: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

⚠️ Non-Con touching (no rape) and gore description/death ⚠️

♡

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.

.

. .

. . .

I watched her body hit the pavement and how it scraped her face.

Was she dead?

I started to shake and backed away. My eyes trailed to her attacker, who made no movements.

“Omar…?” I stumbled back a few steps but managed to keep my balance.

“Holy fuck dude… what…. What have you done…?” I suppressed a scream.

He only stood there, gently caressing the head of the baseball bat. It was stained with glistening scarlet-coloured blood. Although his demeanour seemed calm, his hands were shaking. I felt the urge to comfort him, but I managed to bury that and let another emotion surface. Fear.

I opened my mouth but stopped when he opened his.

“You have to go.” Omar's eyes left the bat and made eye contact with me.

“What!? Omar, please tell me what's going on-!”

My eyes went back to Vanessa's corps lying face down. How I was keeping my composure was beyond my knowledge.

“He'll catch you, anyway, he's just giving you a head start…” Omar was just rambling to himself at this point.

I stumbled on my words, trying to find more questions, but nothing came to mind. However, suddenly, the sky turned a deep red. The roads were silent and no birds sang. There was, on the other hand, a loud ticking noise. It echoed just like a grandfather clock and was coming from up above. Yet, when I looked up, nothing was there.

I looked back at Omar, who had bloodshot eyes.

“ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ ᴿᵘⁿ…” His voice was a combination of a whisper and an echo.

I didn't waste any more time and booked it for the streets. What the fuck was going on? This must be a dream… or a nightmare.

I ran through the streets, stopping to catch my breath only when I was at a safe distance from Omar. The ticking seems to be following me.

My eyes scan every corner and store, hoping I'd find somewhere… The Church! Of course, whatever ungodly shit is going on, it wouldn't enter God's home… right?

I ran toward the church and didn't hesitate to open the doors. Thankfully, Father Pierre left it unlocked (which was weird on his part). I hastily pushed back all thoughts I had about this place, I had no idea when the clock would run out of time and I didn't want to be out in the open when it did.

I carefully closed the doors behind me. The church was dark without the lit candles. Thankfully, the stained-glass windows were emitting a red hue in certain parts, so I wasn't completely blind.

My eyes spotted the confessional, a big brown box meant to confess your sins. It was perfect to hide in! Hopefully, it could lock from the inside. I approached the confessional, and it smelled… oddly nice. As if someone had lit a bunch of scented candles in this area.

I opened it and… well… why am I still surprised?

Father Pierre's body was squeezed into the cramped confessional. His jaw was dislocated and barely hanging on, and his eyes were bulging out. A Febreze spray bottle was embedded into his left shoulder. The Febreze spray had a small cut in the middle and its liquid was all over the walls. It must have sprayed all over due to the pressure. Whatever remaining liquid was left was dripping down Father Pierre's body.

I quickly closed the confessional… out of the question that I was hiding in there.

I looked around, there really weren't many places to hide where it wouldn't be out in the open or obvious. I could hide behind the altar but…

Suddenly, the clock stopped ticking and loud bells rang.

Oh… oh no…

I scrambled to the altar and hid behind it. My hand gripped my mouth as I tried to steady my breathing.

The bells soon stopped, and my ears were filled with an eerie silence.

All of a sudden, from far away, I could hear rapid… and I mean rapid footsteps. It reminded me of the audio I had listened to way back of SCP-096, minus the screaming.

The footsteps were running and tearing through houses and stores. It wouldn't be long till he reached the church.

…

Something tells me I'm not making it out alive…

My thoughts were ripped away when the two doors were swung open, and I stopped breathing.

Literally.

The footsteps were much quieter and calmer, almost like I had already been found. He approached the confessional and forced it open. Something fell with a thud, which I can only imagine it being Father Pierre's body. He kicked the body away, so he could look into the confessional.

Without moving, I looked at where the confessional would be if the altar wasn't blocking my view. I felt tears well up as I stifled a scream. The way he had kicked the body would make it seem as if he was taunting me. Father Pierre's head was only visible, and his eyes were shot open, looking straight at me.

He started to move around again, and I was too scared to keep looking. I could tell he was getting closer and closer to the altar. Very soon he would find me.

I held my breath when the footsteps stopped in front of the altar. As I tried to calm down, my ears started to pick up the breathing coming from above me. I took a chance and looked up.

My breath hitched as I saw Marcus staring down at me. His bangs weren't covering his eyes anymore and oh god…

They were big and glowing red… his pupils were so small they were practically not there. His smile was deranged and stretched over half his face, causing wrinkles. I swear if he didn't have teeth, he would be drooling.

He did NOT look human… and I wasn't about to stick around and find out if he was or not.

I stood up and tried to run, however, Marcus swiftly grabbed the back of my hood and swung me back down. Since the altar was positioned a few steps higher, I was sent tumbling down the 3 steps. I landed next to Father Pierre's body, and I subdued the urge to vomit.

Before I could get back up, Marcus sat down on my waist and successfully restricted my movements… or maybe it was the undying fear and his piercing gaze that immobilized me.

“Marcus…?” My voice was more of a strangled cry than a whisper.

Was he going to kill me? Leave my body mangled in this godforsaken church?

His face got closer to mine … this is it. I closed my eyes and imagined all the brutal scenarios he would do to me.

However, a rough pair of lips met mine.

He was kissing me…?

I didn't dare pull away or open my eyes.

Though, I could feel his hands feel my body. Thankfully, he did not attempt to remove any of my clothes.

He pulled away, still maintaining eye contact, and wiped his mouth.

“What's going on, Marcus?” He sat up, but I didn't make any movements, remaining as still as ever.

He let out a chuckle and touched his lips.

“It's been a while since I kissed you.” He smiled in a not so friendly way.

To my knowledge … we had never kissed.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped out of my trance and managed to sit up. I scooted backwards until my back hit the confessional.

He cleared his throat before clearing his bangs from his face. Once again revealing his unnerving eyes.

“Are… are your eyes real…?” I murmured while he stood up and towered over me.

“I'm all real, babe.” His smile contorted into some kind of Cheshire grin.

Sensing my confusion, he continued.

“Allow me to offer you an explanation for the thousandth time.”

What?

“Sometime in the 1700s … I believe I had fallen for a mere peasant.” There was a small silence as he expected me to put things together.

“You.” He winked.

“However, I was a king! No way a king could marry a peasant like yourself. So, I had thought out a plan where we would be lovers in secret, oh it seemed like such a perfect plan…” He smiled as if he was recalling old memories.

“Sadly, you had contracted smallpox and had died before I could even get a taste of you…”

I narrowed my eyes in disgust.

“So, I sought out someone to help me, and low and behold, I had found a witch. She had promised me a spell in exchange for protection, cause, you know, we had all those witch trials going on. Anyway, she had performed a spell that would grant me the power of reincarnation. So, naturally, I had brought you back… but… you weren't so accepting of me… at that time, retaliation against a king was punishable by death…-”

“So you killed me?” I raised an eyebrow.

“No, no! I mean, not this time. It was more like a witness situation. Anyway, reincarnation wasn't enough, so I went back to the witch. Now with the ability to manipulate time, I advance time a bit, so I could reincarnate you into a prince! However… people weren't so accepting of our… relationship. So, they had you burnt, I had escaped in time though, thankfully.” He paused a bit. “I… well, that just makes me sound like an asshole, but I swear I escaped for a good cause. I went back to the witch, and this is where it gets frustrating… she wasn't so willing to help me. She said that I should let you rest, but we are meant to be! I tried to explain it to her, but she just wouldn't get it!” Marcus groaned in frustration.

“So, naturally, I had to kill her and steal her books. It took a while, but I managed to master spells and transform myself into a new being.” He sighed but composed himself. “I didn't always look like this but messing with time and power can really change someone…ha.” He chuckled.

“Now, with this new power, I could reset everyone and make you forget everything. Like starting a fresh new page. You … ha… still weren't accepting, so I had to reset the world a couple of thousand times. Don't worry, though, I was nice enough to include some of your friends!”

“Omar, Judy, and Vanessa…?” I whispered.

“Yeah, but they weren't so … cooperative. I mean, witnessing such rips in time can take a toll on humans.” Marcus snickered and covered his mouth.

I couldn't believe it….

“Make no mistake, I have done this all for you, for us.” I couldn't tell if he was insane or actually thinking he was doing the right thing.

“What about…” My eyes trailed to Father Pierre's body, which was lying next to me.

“Oh. Well… when there are witches, there's always bound to be a church. If I remember correctly, I think that old witch said something about a saviour… or someone supposed to “save” you. As I said, though, it can really take a toll on someone when you witness things you aren't supposed to see.”

Marcus bent down and lightly caressed my cheek. He pressed me against the confessional, and I fought back, thinking the worst. This angered him, since his hands went to my neck, and he slammed my head on the wooden board of the confessional. My vision began to be hazy, and It started to go dark.

The last thing I saw was the statue of Mother Mary looking down on me.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🚶🩸🏠 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

I woke up feeling dazed and groggy. My head hurt, but I didn't feel any bumps on it. The room I was in felt familiar… oh yeah… this is Marcus's bedroom.

Since I can still remember everything that happened, it means he hasn't “reset” me yet.

However… in case he does… I'll need to have something that'll trigger my memory.

Something that could fit in my pocket without going undetected. I felt my pockets and didn't feel my phone… so a picture was out of the question.

Maybe… a note?

I scanned the room and found his desk.

I scurried quietly towards it. It was riddled with scribbled papers and odd shapes. I'm also pretty sure I saw a pentagram in one of the piles.

I rummaged through them and the drawers. The best I could find or that hadn't had anything scribbled on was a post-it note.

I can't write much, but I'll have to write something significant…

[Reader's choice — You have a maximum of 25 words.]

I finished writing and crumbled the Post-it into my pocket. What are the odds that I'll wake up with the same pants?

Unlikely, but worth a try.

I looked toward the bedroom door, should I try sprinting out?

…

The house was abnormally quiet… Is he even home?

As soon as that thought slipped into my mind, two hands gripped my shoulder.

I quickly spun around and came face to face with Marcus… how did he come up from behind me?

He looked really on edge, as if he expected something to happen. He was fidgeting with the drawstrings of my hoodie.

I felt really uncomfortable.

“Uhm… can I go to the bathroom…?”

He didn't say anything, but he did let go of my hoodie, something told me that he wouldn't be letting me go that easily.

I traversed the hall and into the bathroom. I didn't need to go, but I felt like I needed privacy. Was he always behind me? Did he see the note I put in my pocket?

I locked the door and relaxed. My eyes fell to the drawers underneath the sink. Maybe there could be something sharp, preferably scissors, that could help me fight him??

I went through them and the best I could find was a nail clipper.

It should've been obvious that I wouldn't find scissors, I mean, have you seen his hair?

All of a sudden, a light bulb went through my head. I slowly turned towards the window I saw the last time I was here. (Chapter 5)

I got closer to the window.

Was I really going to do it?

I reached for its handle.

Am I really going to risk it?

It's unlocked.

Is it worth it?

I swung the window open, ignoring the blaring alarm, and jumped out. I landed on the grass but felt a crack behind me. If my foot wasn't broken, it was definitely sprained.

However, the adrenaline ignored the pain and allowed me to continue running… well, the best I could.

I limped into the forest, it was sombre and I couldn't see anything.

“GOD FUCK…” I screamed as something metal clamped down on my still-operational foot.

A bear trap.

The thing is, there aren't any bears around these parts…

I crawled my way deeper into the forest. My whimpers and sobs followed me.

Suddenly, I heard leaves crunching behind me and a cold hand grabbed my hair.

I choked out a sob as I looked at Marcus.

His red eyes burned through mine.

“I had thought this time would be different.” He said point-blank.

I couldn't manage anything out.

He put my head back onto the wet grass. He reached for his bat and held it over his head.

“Now stay still.” He said before bringing it down.

And then suddenly…

Everything went black. ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ Want to read ahead? Click here!

[pieroulette]

#007. serendipity ▶ koga yudai.

one word prompt.

warning: bittersweet angsty oneshot ig, mentions of depression and anything related to that so please read with discretion.

a/n: not sure how this turn out to be quite lengthy, it should've been a drabble but anyways 🤸

"SERENDIPITY."

they say, that wonderful or good things happen when you least expected them to. refraining from actively seeking them out leads you to a better solitude, less expectation and a fulfilled life rather than frantically chasing after them. but what is there to life if you will only wait for good things to happen?

isn't it better for you take the lead, take charge of your own life, lift your pair of feet to achieve each imaginary moment you desire?

or was it simply that you couldn't understand the word despite rereading the explanation since a few hours ago?

you couldn't understand. but what right do you even have when you couldn't even push yourself off the chair, to a life you desire? a simple contradiction, or maybe a hypocrite you call yourself.

you knew what was needed to be done, but there remains no energy left in you for you to execute each meaning in this particular word.

"tell me a new word, again?"

the golden rays drenching over the green board, blending with the white dust chalk engraved on them gave you a rather solemn atmosphere. with the shadows of the window frame casting on the walls and desks, you never understood why you found them so terribly saddening to look at.

"serendipity," you sighed, resting the hard edge of your open book on your desk, emitting a hard thud that resonated throughout the empty classroom.

empty, almost — if it wasn't for the hazy figure floating around you, shifting its position by leaning against the wall, placing himself on the window seat—quite a funny scene for you as he didn't need to go that far when the colours of his skin weren't as vibrant as the smile on his face.

"pretty word for the first time! se-ren-di-" his lips formed each corresponding shape that perfectly enunciate each syllable, but the foreign word hasn't been completely integrated into his mind as his tongue fumbles at the end. "truly a pretty word, but there's no point in making it so long and hard to pronounce."

his pretty features contorted into an animated expressions of a thumping soul.

giggling as you shook your head at him, "each word is no accident, at least in my opinion. therefore, do your best to learn it. who knows, god up there would compliment you for your well-earned english skills and probably give you a chance to be reincarnated in another country, perhaps in london?"

well, it didn't matter which country; as long as it was far, far away from this concrete, from this land your feet are bound on for eternity, with the terrible noise of the invisible shackles wrapped around your ankles. or perhaps, it was just your mind fabricating scenarios to appease yourself, like they said.

"eh, who says i want to be reborn in a foreign country?" his eyebrows raised in disbelief, "as if kanji aren't anywhere difficult."

another amusement adorned your face, "i didn't say kanji wasn't difficult."

he shrugged in return, swaying his translucent feet in a hypnotic motion in the empty air.

"a kindergarten teacher, you say?" he snorted, "bet your future little students would cry a river for every word of the day you write on the damn board."

"well, they gotta catch up."

"cruel, i wouldn't want to be your student when i'm reborn someday."

"gotta toughen up the lil kids while early, kei."

this lost soul in his translucent body where the luminous sun rays pierce through like an arrow grew even more vibrant, making each edge of his existence breathe life into them. every now and then, you almost always forget that he was nowhere as alive as his animated expressions.

the reddish rusty pin of muted green cactus with a cartoonish art embedded on his school's jacket, right on his chest—had you initially wondering what leads to it's eventual discoloration when his neatly ironed uniform, white pair of shoes, and a well kept slicked back hair were very much a stark contrast from it.

and now that you eventually come to know about it, you'd rather not say anything.

"yeah, yeah. anyways, what does it even mean?" he gestured his index finger to the written word of 'serendipity' below the list of words you've studied.

"happy accidents." you answered, looking through the big fat dictionary on the right side of your desk to make sure. "luck that takes the form of finding valuable or pleasant things that are not looked for; a lucky stroke, or you could compare it with a four-leaf clover that is difficult to find but when you found it, that's serendipity."

"quite the same as meeting you on the stair that day."

"that," you averted your eyes from the dictionary to the boy, "a happy accident for you?"

"almost." he corrected, a mischievous grin reaching his pale cheeks. you scoffed at him. "watch your steps though, doesn't seem like a nice way to go."

"what if i don't watch my steps next time?" you replied, adding a tone of playfulness. but who were you even fooling?

"you would be an idiot." his pearly white teeth came into view, laughing at your choice of words. "but please, save me the trouble. let's not be born on the same day in my next life." kei shook his head, not taking the idea very well.

"why not?" you asked, curious of the intention behind his words.

"just." his lower lip jutted in a pout, "atleast wait a few years before you follow me, or even better, atleast seventy years or so."

a heavy silence replaces the conversation, followed by the sudden increase of the breeze flowing into the classroom, gracing the curtains through a dance. if the boy had a beating heart at this very moment, then it would've brush against his cheeks.

you tucked your locks beside your ear, pressing the tip of your feet slightly hard on the floor as you lean back against your chair. letting your shoulders droop down, "seventy? that's too far-fetched."

"not as far-fetched as mine, you got a long life ahead of you, why not anticipate the serendipity that will come along with each day?" kei suddenly paused, chuckling at his minor mistake. "oh wait, we shouldn't anticipate it."

"i don't think i can live that long, i do not look forward to anything.." you let out those eight words as murmurs, a sound so low it's impossible to be heard by a normal human.

but to him, he could. your voice were as clear as the blue sky, devoid of the dense clouds and heavy storm.

"is memorising your daily vocabularies, not something to look forward to?"

"they're only meant to keep me alive." you replied nonchalantly.

tap, tap, tap.

the noise emitting from the tip of your pen resonated through the empty room, forming a calming atmosphere for you as it resembled a thumping heart; where the boy on the window seat had none of that, and while you, despite having it—

"you know," kei shifted his position his back rested on the wall slightly, lifting his left leg up in a leisure manner. "my mom used to cook me a meal whenever i'd go for dance practice, but they weren't that healthy enough to keep me fit for it, you see."

you lifted your heavy eyes at him, "so you threw it away?"

"i gave it to someone else." kei corrected, "but it's not like i don't want to eat it, i do want to eat it. just, not yet."

you nodded, humming along. imagining a scenario where you put yourself in his shoes, wondering how it was to roamed around about everywhere as a translucent being, left with remnants of the past, a beating heart, and a starving soul—yet unable to fed oneself for eternal.

"—now i couldn't eat them anymore, all because of a damn reckless driver." kei's pupils remain stuck, and yet still he blinks, even when he knows it's all too useless to even do so. but atleast, it still provide him the comfort that he was once alive, that he had left his footprints somewhere else even if it was bound to covered by almost anything. "it was a happy day, skipping school just to get to the place where the audition was held, that doesn't seem like a happy accident at all, isn't? or maybe it was a conjunction, the word you taught me for the first time!"

you tilted your head at him, a glimpse through your memories where your figure were laying on cold surface of the rooftop, and him sitting beside with you with his legs apart as if he had no care in the world yet with his head looking up above the sky as if he was hoping, wishing, or more specifically—longing for something. a totally weird situation that follows after a tiny 'accident' down the stairs which leads up to this rooftop.

"conjunction, it is the words we used such as "and", "but", and "if". or in other words, where two or more things occured at the same time." you randomly blurted out much to the boy's initial surprise and dumbfounded expression, "this, our situation, you and i, are a conjunction of utter ridiculousness and lack of scientific evidence, also a potential symptom that i might've gone insane and that i could be sent to the nearest mental asylum in this city."

kei's face contorted in utter awkwardness, mind malfunctioning as he tries to understand your barrage of words. "i don't have any heck the slightest idea you're talking about, miss." and with a random afterthought, he added. "i love to dance, though.. hm, the name is kei, by the way. what's yours?"

a ghost asking you for your name sounds too comical, you've always thought that they automatically knew your name through some random articles, newspapers, gossips from your peers, and the myth circulating around the kids in your neighborhood.

"are you.." you frowned, "trying to be friends?"

and he simply nodded, almost exaggeratedly, with the brightest spark imbued in his marble-like eyes.

from then on, with the days following after and so on, it doesn't feel that difficult to breathe, atleast for a tad bit—with this soul of a teenage boy following you around like a lost puppy for a few days, and when he disappears for a short period, you were engulfed with fear—but what were you even fearing about?

was it because you were concerned that he might've disappeared or that a worst case scenario had happened to him? which is quite stupid despite knowing very well what he is, or perhaps you were being selfish—desiring for that poor soul to remain by your side so you won't feel lonely as you used to before?

you didn't know which route to settle your mind on, but everytime he appears back, returning to your side—not too close, but not too far, paired with his lively expressions and bustling vibe, you found your lips drifting onto a vast array of conversations but surprisingly, it was almost about anything but you and him.

as if you and him knew that it's better to not to go past the threshold where there's a big possibility, huge even, that a desire for belonging and attachment might arise. yet for some reason, today feels a bit different.

just a bit.

kei lifted both his hands for you to see, bending the rest of his fingers for his index finger to emerged, forming a 'one'. and he slowly attached them together as he speaks, "happy plus accident."

"finally you got it." you squeeze out a chuckle, although deep inside, a crawling sentiment or rather a heavy lump were emerging to the surface of your relaxed eyebrows and lips.

and despite not asking each other what drove you to do that, and what lead him to the way he is right now, the sign was all too obvious. it was as if both of you knew the answer from the very beginning the day you first met each other.

you knew very well of how he ended up the way he is right now, and that was also on the rooftop where after shortly you taught him the word—you dozed off to sleep, but not before listening to him talking about how he used to live, and how he reached the end of his dreams.

"sing," his eyes squinted at the golden sun, a reaction that simply won't deliver the same effect to him right now but out of habit, he often did so. "and dance."

observing him and his little antics, a desire to ask him a question squeezes its way out of your mouth before you could think.

"don't you hate him?"

kei paused, knowing very well who you meant. "hate who?"

"that person who took your life."

a heavy beat of silence consumed the space again as kei's eyes fluttered rather slowly, "well, having my life wasted away by some crazy bastard that chose to drive despite having his more than enough shots that day." a sigh follows after, a long and deep one. "hate is a pretty weak word. resentment? yeah. at some point, i did."

"then why don't you go possess him or something? perhaps give him a taste of his own karma? i heard those stuffs exist."

"good idea," kei hummed in approval, pressing his chin on his knuckles. "but wouldn't that cost my precious ticket to reincarnation if i became a vengeful spirit, eh?" he shrugged in a playful manner, a mischievous grew on the corners of his lips.

"you got a point.."

"didn't know you had that spirit in you," kei feigns a surprise, eyes widened in shock. "now that i look at it, you could pass off as sadako, especially with that long hair. and instead of coming out of a glitching tv, a big fat book is what you will use to horrify everyone."

another chuckle escapes your lips, "spirit? the thing is, i don't have anyone to that i could fight with, or hate." you slowly lifted your eyes to the blackboard, scanning each stroke of the kanjis. "simply nothing."

"you still have yourself, though." kei shoots a playful wink at you, only to receive an expression of playful disgust spreading over your features, "there's more good things that come along just by being by yourself."

"that sounds depressing."

it did sound very depressing, he agrees and yet he didn't need to verbally tell you that. not when his eyes could count the faint red shade of long, deep, and engraved visible marks on your left hand, peeking slightly beneath the hem of your sleeves as you rested your chin on your palms.

he could only wonder how hollow those carvings could be, and how deep it could've reach inside your soul.

"karma, or serendipity.. we can't control that though." kei said, "atleast that's what i heard from the spirits roaming around, but from what i believe in, atleast we could control how our life goes about, even if.. even if we die someday by others' hands or—"

he caught sight of a yellow balloon drifting up and about the empty air out the window, guided by the breeze of nature to a destination where one might or might not encounter it anymore. a thought run through the back of his mind that a child might've carelessly let go of the tight grip they had on the thread,

careless.

the word is all too familiar for him.

yet another thought surfaces, another different scenario; that someone, probably not a child by form, but by heart; one that longs for something—must have willingly let go of the balloon for a reason no one might ever know if they were unwilling to say, or if anyone even try to ask, or if even they did—words were discarded as mere form of exaggeration.

"by our own." another pause as he looked down at his lap for a brief second before he gathers the silent strength to look into your eyes again. "just memorize each word, each day, till you can form your own very word, okay?"

your eyes widened in inches, taking his words in, nodding your head in silence, as you pursed your lips in to blurt out any potential choke that might surface from your throat or how your insides grew warm for what seems like a long time, or how your stiff and rigid fingers relaxed on its own.

like a frozen statue in time, probably equivalent to the deadly temperature of the ice age but only you as it's tenant, it was short of nothing but quite a journey—one that's terribly bleak, and devoid of colours, by the way. the flickering lamp post from the park gaves you a spooky vibes back when you were a child, yet now, you couldn't but describe the scene as the equivalent of it staying alive.

just a bit more everyday, till it could.

but a common phrase would often drifted off to your ear, that a lamp post's job is basically that, automatically, to stand with absolute strength all while providing light for people.

because that's just how the people you believe in—had always believed about.

multiple beats of crunch resonated throughout the air as you walked across the autumn leaves decorating the entire ground of the school. october sounds like an old man in its muted orange sweater, a cane gripped by his right crumpled hand, and a pumpkin supported by a knotted rope as he walk about the town, and probably visiting the old cemetery where he wondered that he, too, might be buried beneath the same soil someday.

you wonder too.

soon enough, you were greeted with a sight of kei in the hallway, up in the third floor at the school. him, leaning his back against the wall, with his left leg supporting him and his right leg stretched all the way to the floor. his hands in his pockets which made you think if he was trying to warm them.

you almost wanted let out a hiss upon parting your lips due to the chapped and dry skin, yet you held yourself, forcing a small smile to lighten up the mood. "hey."

with him catching the sight of your presence, he fixed his posture with the same smile cutting back to his face. "ayo."

for sure you didn't expect that the next word would lead to that, despite knowing it all to well.

"it's time."

it caught you off guard even though you've prepared for it, repeated it like a broken affirmation in your head, even. despite anticipating it all along those months. a lump formed in your throat, as if the clock had slowed down the speed of this world that contains billions of lives. you've anticipated for this day, and it eventually came. it eventually did.

you wanted to say something, but what is there left to say?

"wanna go for a last walk?"

the hallway to the exit suddenly feels short than it used to be, it felt terribly long a few hours ago, a day ago, and the days that occured before this very day.

"i used to memorise these ridiculously hard dance steps in one go,"

you raised your head to look at his face, an expression you know too well to be emitting a sense of longing, pain, and disappointment.

"—but all it did was make my dance look like a barrage of trash, my dance teacher says." laughing at himself, you wondered if he really used to be like this when he was alive, or was it only a way to keep the remnants of his usual self intact.

you don't know, and you weren't sure if you want to.

"that's cruel."

"that sounds weird coming from you," he chuckled, shaking his head as he spun around to face you, walking backwards. "ah, in my next life, i want to eat more food. if i'm lucky enough to have a mother, that is. and right, i should brush up my skills in looking left and right before crossing the road, heh."

"you will." a curious question suddenly struck your mind after that, "but hey,"

"yeah?"

"how will i find you if you no longer have the same name?"

caught off guard by your question, he froze, blinking quite fast before bursting into an awkward chuckle. "you wanna find me?"

you nodded, feeling quite awkward at your random approach but you brushed it off.

"well, certainly, my name wouldn't be kei in my next life. but who knows what might happen? i don't know who would i be, what kind of person i would be.. i don't even know if i would be born here again."

a question left with no answer, and maybe it was for the best. you let the question drifted into the empty air, letting it sink it nowhere.

"ah!"

you jolted slightly at the unexpected rise of his voice, seeing him lifting his index finger as if a light bulb flickered above his head. "we could decide on a symbol maybe? like a secret code—" leaning in closer, "we could cheat the old man up there."

baffled by his idea, you weren't entirely sure how this was going to work but you nodded anyways, asking him what exactly he meant by a symbol and he replied rather in a tiny voice, "i probably wouldn't remember you, but i heard that souls bear if not all but a little resemblance and memories from their past lives, something that is important enough to them that it sticks no matter what."

you shook your head at him, saying that a symbol decided a few minutes before he departs to a place wherever he needs to reincarnate—wouldn't take an effect. at least that was how you perceive it, sighing as you kicked an empty soda can strewn on the path, momentarily hissing at whoever didn't throw it properly into the trashbin.

"but this is important though, isn't?"

hearing those words from him, you couldn't help the way a sudden warmth engulfed your heart and your eyes shifting from the floor back to him again; those eyes that held firm determination in it, just like you've always seen him ever since. "alright, what's the secret code then?"

"that one," his eyes gestured towards something, down at your side and with confusion, you followed his line of vision—leading to your bag.

"my bag?"

"no you idiot, that sticker."

an old, worn out cropped out sticker of a crown decorated on the side of your dark indigo schoolbag.

"a crown?"

"you sure this would work?" giggling at the idea of an old sticker being the secret code, you couldn't help but find it stupid—adorably stupid, that is. "how does a secret code like this would help me to meet you? what, do you wear a fat ass crown on your round tiny head someday?"

"i don't know, i have no idea." kei shrugged, pouting terribly. he, too, were skeptical of the idea. "but what's the harm in trying?"

"okay," you nodded, satisfied with his answer. "we'll see how this secret code would come to use someday."

straightening the worn out sticker on your palms, a warm smile made its way to your lips and unknowingly to you, you failed to caught the pair of eyes switching to a solemn shade.

"we're here, you don't have to follow after me now."

two pair of eyes; chocolate brown looking into yours as he paused on his tracks, leading you to do the same.

it finally has came to an end, no words exchanged, only a short goodbye paired with a brief nod leaves your lips and his, and as he spun round his heels with his back now facing you; one that you've longed to atleast embrace—you clenched your fist beneath the hem of your sleeves.

"say," kei paused on his tracks, and you—a few metres away from him, lifted your eyes only to be met with his locks almost obscuring his ones as he kept his vision fixated on the floor before eventually lifting it to look into your eyes. "do you still not agree that the day we met was a happy accident?"

your heels spun directly to his direction, epiphany settling itself in the back of your mind as you processed his words. you were unsure whether you were simply imagining that there was a glint of hope imbued within his marble-like eyes, or how his translucent hands fiddled the hems of his black worn out jacket. though, there was one thing you were sure of. "of course, meeting you was a happy accident."

the corners of his lips pulls up in a sheepish grin that pulls the strings in your heart, the locks of his hair swayed gracefully that it had you wanting to touch it. why is it reacting to the breeze? was this nothing but a mere imagination of yours?

"kei."

"hm?"

you clenched your hands as you observed your reflected figure on the glossy tiles, your shadow soaked on the wall on your right side as a result of the illuminated spherical sun set peering from the window on your left side, where the infirmary room was located; it's doors left opened.

"the next time you're reborn again, can you—" you held yourself, refraining from being selfish.

right.

good things happen when you don't actively seek out for them, for they're often more defined as gifts when they do happened.

with your lips parting, replacing it with a smile you've been longing to give to him, genuinely. "the next time we meet again, for the first time, i'll make sure to put on a smile—a genuine one."

kei's lips parted slightly, eyes softening paired with a gentle smile that adorned his lips.

"wanna grab a meal together next time, then?"

taken aback you did at his words, yet you hold yourself back from pouring your scattered thoughts of what ifs, you nodded, as clear as you can for him to get the message that you are more than willing to. devoid of words, yet those subtle gesture was more than enough for him, he was more than satisfied, pressing his lips into the biggest smile before spunning around his heels, walking off to the long hall where on the other side leads to a new life.

a new chance.

with his back facing you, he waves his arms off in long strides. "remember, one word at a time!"

and where beyond that—your first and last serendipity disintegrates into the waterfall of illuminated golden sea, now one of them—will he return as the sunrise for the years to come.

you walked off, but not before taking one last look at the exit. despite saying those words to him, you weren't entirely sure if you even believe at the whole "reincarnation" thing, if hell or heaven truly existed.

your eyes fixated solemnly on the very spot he disappeared into, you found the courage to say these words you weren't so sure would be ever granted yet you could only look forward for that day.

"see you later, kei."

the walk back to the classroom was now hollow than ever, your legs felt like it could snap at any point if it wasn't for your palms supporting you and guiding you up the stairs and across the hall, where you will now return to your seat without the spot on the window seat occupied as it used to.

yet white strokes, vibrant as snow caught your attention from your peripheral vision, and there written a sentence on the blackboard—something you've been longing to hear from someone. a chuckle, followed by a disbelief, and then a choke surfaces from your throat before you burst into tears; one that is devoid of sound as a long time habit as a child, paired with beads of sorrow yet a profound warmth imbued in them trails down your cheeks.

who could've known that a dying and flickering lamp post could only be understood by another one like it, but one that are devoid of light—an artificial light that is, it would be a pure mockery to say that when this one bears the light that surpasses all physical form and shape; a star.

like a star that keeps on burning in flames, etching it's existence above the glittered universe—that would be the perfect way to define him.

and with that, the year 97' will come to an end; autumn leaves will fade back to the original vibrant shades of verdure returning to adorn the land once again, going back and forth in a constant loop but despite that you'll try to memorise each word, one at a time, until you can form your own word.

" 誰もがさまざまな形で苦しみや幸福を経験します。

大丈夫、一日ずつやっていきましょう。

ただ生き続けるだけではありません。 ライブ。

あなた自身のための ：）"

a word with an alternate definition where you can create your own serendipity first, all while waiting for the rest to come. and even if it didn't come, atleast you still have yourself.

"goodnight for now."

end of footage. . .

#12112023

[the-kr8tor]

AAAAAAAAAAA- THEY CALLED ME A CUTIE WHAT IS GOING ON- I THOUGHT THEY HAD A CRUSH ON A BOY WHAT HAPPENED? Daily Hobie HC! September, the harvest moon. Big, bright and beautiful in the sky as it slowly climbed over the horizon. Yet, Hobie didn't need to look at the sky when he could just see the reflection in your wide eyes. He gently nudged your shoulder, noticing the enchantment you were trying to place on his instrument slowly disintegrating. Hobie watched as your eyes quickly looked back down, your hands holding onto the instrument firmly. He watched as you closed your eyes, beginning to hum as a coloured, teal-green glow emitted from the pads of your fingertips. The glow began to etch its way into the wood of his instrument. Once you were done, he had to refrain from grabbing your face and drowning you in kisses and nips of appreciation for casting an enchantment on his instrument. Now, not only is his instrument practically unbreakable, but the carving meant that it was tipped with attacking/defensive magic, meaning he could use it as a weapon. Hobie smiled warmly towards you as you handed the instrument back, leaning into you as you both watched the moon continue to rise, unaware of the confused looks Pav, Gwen and Miles were giving each other, clearly gesturing at the two of you. Fast forwards to when Hobie can actually use his instrument in combat, everyone was ecstatic when it first occurred. He swung the instrument towards the enemies, successfully knocking them back as a ray of teal-green light shot out and collided with the surrounded assaulters. Miles had also been practicing his archery, getting better at aiming for moving targets done with you tying something to the base of your tail and running around him. 7 times out of 10, he managed to hit. Gwen has been filling her journal with new herbs and mixtures as she cheered from the sidelines as Miles practiced his archery on those days, with Hobie and Pavitr casually chatting while Pavitr attempted to be able to summon fire intentionally from the golden markings of his palm. During the casual days, and the difficult days where you'd come back injured, there's no doubt that they've all been by your side. Hell, it's now permanently Hobie's job to carry you in the makeshift carrier backpack, with your face resting at his shoulder on all times. Miles and Gwen roll their eyes in mild, feigned disgust, all while being hypocrites and holding hands. And Pavitr? Obviously treating this all like some stereotypical Hindi romance movie because let's be honest, it probably is. The moment the stars collide, however, is tonight. It's Hobie's birthday, and everyone's taken a break from regular travelling and training. Hobie smiles awkwardly at all the birthday attention he's been getting. Of course, he's appreciative as ever, but he had no idea how to react accordingly. Even as you all bring out a cake (which you totally didn't nick ingredients for), Hobie is flabbergasted by the sole appearance of one, but still grateful nonetheless. As he cuts the cake with a cleaned dagger, Pavitr quickly speaks up about a tradition he heard that if the 'knife' came out dirty, he'd have to kiss the nearest person near him. And low and behold, the nearest person to him was you, standing right next to him as he cut the cake. As he pulls out the dagger, obviously messy, and set it aside. Hobie reached over for a very flustered foxy-witch, pulling you close to with his hands gently brushing against your waist. He leans in close, his lips ghosting over yours as he mutters a low ask if you're fine with this. You nod a little too eagerly, him now gently planting his lips against yours, to which you uncontrollably smile through. -🐦‍⬛

Well they're correct!

Daily Hobie HC!!!

Hobie's guitar is now a weapon! Hell yeah!!! I bet every time he looks at it he remembers you 🥺

Miles glaring at Hobie's arm around your shoulders: you see this shit, Gwen?

Gwen, who's currently squeezing his hand and having a competition on who can squeeze the hardest: Disgusting

Poor Pav he's the 5th wheel 😭😭😭

AWWW THEY KISSED ON HIS BDAY!!! I've never heard of the knife thing! That's adorable tho 😍

[qvrcll]

hello! firstly, ur writing is heavenly. no joke. i devoured ur entire discography within seconds of finding ur page. twice. i was wondering if u could write some longer elaborations on lo’ak with particular emphasis on his love for physical touch/affection? i would love to read smth that encapsulates the essence of the relationship between him + reader. esp like the dynamic of the relationship. wether or not u think his insecurities implore him to constantly seek touch. if u think he’d pine for it or go to extremities to receive it. possibly even before an established relationship. his jealousy, possessiveness, his thirst for affirmation. any form is fine! wether u’d like to give it a story line (one shot typa thing) or just a long elaboration on the topic in itself. tbh im rlly hungry to hear ur interpretation of it. i adore ur representation(s) and how u flesh out the characters. esp lo’ak. ur mind is so pretty. n ♡

LO’AK + AFFECTION ♡ㅤ°.

synopsis: lo’ak had always chased and chased and chased. so when you finally gave, he found it difficult to catalogue the multitude of touches and stares all at once… well, not completely.

auth notes -> UM HELLO oh my god this ask is just so so so amazing + thank you so much for your interest in my works / thoughts! most of the time they’re nonsensical babble or unorganised lines of hoo haa but i’m glad people enjoy my writing :,) i hope i’ve done your req justice! + let me know if you want more, i absolutely love writing for lo’ak <3

warnings -> slight angst , gn ! na’vi + metkayina reader

characters -> loak sully

gif creds. -> ♡

lo’ak is an overachiever with just the largest slightest urge for approval and affirmation.

he’s so motivation driven to excel his golden-gift of a brother, he’s often caught in imperilment. half of the time, he doesn’t even catch his siblings at his tail, trailing after him precipitately — when did this become a group thing? he’ll think. but eventually, he’ll admonish the thought and rule it as a way to spend quality time with his siblings, away from the poundage of home.

but the sun will discolour and pulse between a mix of a ripe valencia and a pool of mauve coiling just behind the spread of colours in the sky. by the time he’s home, it’s incredibly late — jake is the first to reprimand him. harsh words. hard words. words that make him teeth his lip and fiddle with his fingers till his ears pin against the weight of his braids. in bed, he’ll ponder and turn over the words and make sense of them — i’m just a disappointment. a failure. that must be it, or else i don’t understand why i.. i’m so incapable.

this poor boy definitely misconstrues jake’s words and takes them for justification of his existence as mere fodder — often times, he’ll exclude himself from his family in attempts to find more of what’s different. that means ultimately seeking out friends, connections, approval. love. he’s a confused kid in a big world, far too thin to offer him the space and time for an explanation. the reason for his affliction.

so when his family first seek refuge from the metkayina clan, bodies swollen with days of unforgiving rain and sleepless nights of mummers, he’s a little less aware of who, what, where, when and exactly how.

so when you, the chief tonowari’s child materialises out of thin air in his eye, mouth dilated with a purposeful smile, he registers your position — right, they’re here to guide us. me.

he’ll take it a blow to the gut when his father wrenches him to one side, stabbing the futile words into him, the don’t make me look like a fool boy. be on your best behaviour.

it sullies his mood and strings him somewhere far from the marui pod, feet slack with hurt. wanting nothing more than a rest.

it’s then that there’s more of you with him — “lo’ak sully?” a thin voice branches from the foliage and thickens with purpose when his feet strike against the ground uncomfortably. he’s greeted with you — the chief’s child, golden and emitting from the leaves like a imprimatur from ewya herself: “oh… sorry, i didn’t… i didn’t know-“ he fumbles the the words in his hand, like those countless nights. the heatless nights that ring in his hand, unwarranted remindings of his ineffectuality.

and you’ll sense it, this overpowering tension rooting from every inch of his skin — “i’m not here to nag you, don’t worry. i’m here past curfew hours as well… come…” you signal to your feet.

at first, he’s confused. and then, he’s swollen with happiness that flows straight to his head: for once, he’s not shot down and schlepped home in shame. he’s noted and affirmed — it makes his heart squelch comfortably in his chest.

after that, it’s simple — he looks for you in places he shouldn’t. his family’s marui pod; he’ll unwittingly find recognition in your voice from outside the thin walls. he’s less capable in affirming himself to stake right near your toes — they’ve known me for, what, a couple of weeks. it was probably pity.

yes, that’s right. excuses are his best friend. his companion. an intimate, an option to choose through the blur of confusion.

so that’s why its exalting to him when you first praise him: it had been something with little worth. probably carrying a heavy load off your hands or supporting you when the two of you are habitually tired from training all day: “thank you, lo’ak. you’re incredibly sweet.”

booooooyyyyyy. his ears will nip and crease at his braids furiously, tail whipping around to bind loosely along your waist. you find the gesture incredibly cute — “you think so?” he teethes, eager and raw and fully lo’ak. and who are you, to deny any attempts of it? “i know so.”

other times, it’s less verbal and more strained on eye-contact / body language. to me, he values words. but actions serve a separate design.

actions spring from every nerve, every inch of skin. any bearable bone in a body. so its like a seal on your relationship when you strive to do things with sole senses: squinted, smiling eyes when he successfully holds his breath for more than five minutes. soothing, tender fingers etching circles on his back when he chokes on sea-water. on one occasion, upon his eminence at being able to breathe in water, you had kissed him on the cheek, soft, smooth, lips battered on his skin for less than a second. he’d captured the memory vividly in his brain, somewhere, still idiotically rubbing the area on his face for some revival of the same feeling.

but lo’ak also strikes me as someone who tries awfully hard to gain sympathy, love, attention… pretty much any gateway of endearment. that would include the amplitude of (but not limited to) simple pleasures: words of affirmation, yes. a MUST. he would adore the sound of sweet promulgations from his favourite person, you, when doing the most mundane of activities, i.e. successfully amassing the bond between himself and an awfully obdurate ilu. he’ll be so discoloured with pride and glee that he’ll forget he’s still straining to train and that causes his ilu to flip someways and send him hurdling downwards. still, it’s worth the press, he thinks.

but deep down, he’s blood and flesh and bones. he’s the carnality his parents created from love — he’ll often find himself letting loose in order to garner more scratches and bruises than normal. it hurts, more so, but he’ll carry enough wounds to you for him to feign indifference. he’ll dispel the thought of harassment and put it to blame on the shrubbery and roots of a tree — still, it pays off.

his smile is aching to stay secret when you wrench a woven basket racked with ointments, herbs and other remedies.

he’ll purposely wince and grovel to soften your fingers on his skin

he’s airy and thoughtless when he gazes at you methodically work his misgivings. tongue poked out and hair slightly disheveled from the day: you’ll glance at him and flush—“you’re so close, lo’ak.”

he’s instantly inching away, muttering apologies — he’s seen that he’s over-stepped. and he’s small, again. that boy, in front of his father, eyes and ears downcast at yet another reprimand. but your fingers are… interlocking with his?

“you idiot. i never said… it bothered me,” you push the words out.

it takes a minute to register, like that day he had arrived with sand in his toes and water on his back, gazing at you through the thick of shoulders and faces: “it doesn’t?”

“no, it doesn’t. should it?”

“you tell me.”

“oh, shush lo’ak.”

he’s also jealous — more than his siblings. he’ll grit his teeth more and frown more and tense more when he sees you next to other people. he’s irritated less with you and more with himself with this inconsolable feeling of abandonment. he almost feels sickly with the dwindling hours between each other, hearing your castaway laugh ringing behind him—he escapes to the forest. and you, on cue, find him. he’ll resist first, refusing to make contact. but then, he’ll notice your infelicity, your downturned ears. your low, immobile tail between your legs. and he’ll nearly burst into tears — “i… i was jealous.” together, you work through the exact moment of dissatisfaction, his feelings, this raw and red feeling that was jealousy brooding in his chest.

on cue, to soothe his aches, you’ll rest his head on your lap and curl a finger around a braid. he’s accustomed to your speed now, he’ll briefly stiffen but then melt on your skin, curling into you. he just wants to feel love through himself, not some silly demand or order. so this action hits him best — you loving him through the grime.

once in an established relationship, there’s sooooo much open room for physical touches. it’s more intimate, so you’re shy when hugging him and throwing an arm around him — he finds it cute how you resist and purposely holds you more. definitelyyy a teaser. come on, a son of jake sully? you got me twisted.

he’ll tilt your chin to face him, kiss your neck in close proximity and almost ALWAYS sit with your fingers or his on you.

he loves your voice / eyes. also loves them best, the way they curl and twinkle when you’re drilling compliments into his skull for anything short of mundane or exalting — “my yawne, you did so well”, “my sweet boy, look how well you did”, “i can’t think of anyone better.”

he’s insecure, so some days are harder than most. when he fails on a particular task or fails the skills to attempt one, he’s curling into himself. it’s not visible — it’s internal. it’s in his head, the numerous cogs working to remind himself of his hollowness, his futility. he’s non-verbal by the time you find him, tail crimped between his legs. his eyes are shining and wet, full with unshed tears. when you make your way close, he’s already surrendered himself — “why can’t i do anything right?” “i’m pathetic,” “my dad was right.”

you want nothing more than to eat that terrible feeling lurking within him, diminishing it for his happiness. but this was lo’ak. the bright smiles, eager and welcoming. this was lo’ak, the anger and frustration. this, too, was lo’ak, the grime and jealousy, the stubbornness. this and this and this. you learn to hold him upright—you’ll have lo’ak whole than halved into parts. it’s him you need, you tell him, not a warrior. him.

and he’ll cry, because it’s, too, his first. his first at learning love and compassion. of acceptance and honesty. he’ll see the reflection of him, whole and fully lo’ak, in your eyes and the delightful push of your lips against him melts with his tears.

that, too, he’ll store in his memory.

© 2022 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[ohmful]

been having the craziest sugawara brain rot. wrote a new year scenario too…

didn’t really proofread this!! mainly wrote it for my enjoyment some parts might be a bit goofy but have fun reading

————————- (pure fluff :)

non gender specific

New years with Suga

to think you’ve spent an entire year again

it was definitely worth the investment

the night sky ever so clearly in your vision, not a single cloud in sight. you can feel the chilly breeze, breath of the air, hugging your body, emitting chills up your arms. gosh how you’d wish you brought a jacket with you. with all your might, you continued walking down the street hoping to find a great spot to watch the fireworks. trailing the scent of fresh yet smokey aurora that these colourful explosion leave behind, you found yourself at a half empty bench, the other occupied by a fairly tall, yet familiar figure. though you weren’t made to socialise, at least not at this time, the seat looked like it was missing its other half so you politely asked the person sitting alone.

regardless of how dark it was or how you were unable to see the face of that person, you soon realise by the soft spoken nature, teasing tone voice that it was suga.

“of course you may! you don’t have to ask when it’s with me” he replied, beaming the warmest smile ever.

as you two caught up, and reflected on the years you’ve spent together as friends and more.

“it’s pretty cold right now, isn’t it?”

“yeah…” you mumbled, hoping that he wouldn’t take notice of your sniffling nose and bare arms.

but koushi sugawara is a man that does not get fool easily. you underestimated him because god what he did next gave you a sanctuary of butterflies, roaming free in your stomach.

before you realised it, he inches closer toward you and threw his jacket onto your shoulders. the warmth from his jacket gave you a sense of physical relief, but thay didn’t matter in that moment, because him being there made you feel so at ease. the cold didn’t seem so bad, you let all else, even your thoughts dropped and enjoyed the present with suga . he has always been the type of person you’d like to talk to, someone to listen to you and someone of comfort.

as all your energy dispensed rapidly, you felt heaviness in your eyelids as they begin to droop, suga took notice of this and let you rest on his shoulder. you can smell the life all around you, the sound of sugas heartbeat, palpating so strongly. it felt very safe and you let a few of your thoughts slip out….

“you know suga, i liked you for a really long time, you’re a great friend to me and I’m glad we were able to have this friendship, whether you may like me or not doesn’t matter, thank you for being here”

you let it all out, all of those years, an abundant of stress, heavy weight lifted off your shoulders.

suddenly you felt a strange, speeding pace of heartbeats. then followed by nervous sweating and then finally sugas stuttering voice.

you looked up to realise that, oh my god- he’s RED. and it’s bad, he tried covering his face with his hands but his ear sticks out like fresh cherries ready to be picked. even you felt the nervousness suga was experiencing and then you finally realised what you just said, you basically confessed?

now you both have two, quite bright tomatoes unsure of what to do next as you got up to create some distance for yourselves.

“oh god oh god, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to say it now- Youndont have to response it’s okay, okay? I’ll give you some time, get back to me when you can-“

your legs coiled right up, your cheeks dusted with pink as you tried to get back home.

“WAIT -“

His hand interlocked into yours as he tried to get you to stay. Instead of forcing you to sit down, he got up for you.

Sugawara’s mouth ajar as you wait for the words to come spilling out of his mouth. But nothing came out.

His gaze, his eyes focused on you. A silent acceptance, or perhaps rejection, you thought.

As fireworks erupt in the background, the light painted your face within the darkness as a sparkle in his eye formed.

He pulled you in closer before whispering if he could have permission to do whatever he was going to do next, unsure of what it was but trusting your guts, you allowed him to.

his hands, cupped your cold face as he stared lovingly at you. he moved closer and exchanged his lips with yours. it was cozy, snug, or whatever adjective that can describe how beautiful it was, how comforting it felt.

he made sure to pull you in gently, making sure you can stand and let you enjoy this exact moment as much as he is, you placed your hands on his chest and the feeling of his heart, beating intensely was surely a new felt. your two body hugged, as you opened your eyes to immerse yourself in his perfectly sculpted face, relaxed eyebrows, slightly longer lashes, the beauty mark on his left eye.

remembering the tale that where your moles or beauty marks are placed, was where your past lover kissed you, you wanted to do one more thing before leaving his soft lips.

you pulled away, grabbed his face and planted a kiss on his beauty mark, hoping that your love will continue to exist, hoping that his new life he will still have that amazing face, that one exact beauty mark.

even in the far distance, your ears can pick up on the fireworks, igniting ever so strongly in manu places. and the bench, the bench with two people, were lucky enough to be able to witness their own fireworks, their hearts igniting too.

here’s a drawing as well, have a happy new year!

[scrollonso]

strollini ❛ you're mine. and don't you forget it. ❜

“That's right, now breathe in— And slowly exhale. Can you feel it here?”

Lance placed a hand over Ollie's abdomen. The younger one stiffened at the contact and let the breath out with some hitches.

“I- I think so, yeah–” 

“Very good. Try and move it where you want it instead— I know it's hard, but it will become more natural the more you use it like that.” 

Lance could feel the energy course through Ollie's body, his nervousness made him jittery and unsteady. 

It was a useless exercise, really. Ollie knew very well how to use this machine himself and had worked out alone hundreds of times. He knew exactly why Ollie wanted Lance specifically to teach him, to find a secluded space at the training grounds for it too, but Lance was nothing but a benevolent coworker.

“Amazing! I think I finally got it. Thank you so much for helping me, mec!”

A pricking sensation made Lance's neck hair stand up.

They were being watched. 

He could practically feel concealed eyes piercing through him, just out of reach for anyone to sense, but close enough for Lance to know. 

He let a little smile tug at the corner of his lips. 

“Anytime.” 

Another set of eyes landed on him. This time they were sweet and big and innocent, filled with adoration, as Ollie turned around in Lance's hold. He had a sweet flush on his cheeks that made the colour of his eyes pop even more. 

Lance knew what was about to come. It was something inevitable, but it got easier with time and people who thought that they got nothing to lose.

“Uhm- do you… I mean… have you got any… uh plans later? I was thinking about–”

“Ah, I do. Sorry, Ollie. Maybe another time.” Lance interrupted before he could even hear the boy out. Whatever it was — he knew that a certain someone would probably tear the boy to shreds or worse if he'd accept. Also there was a more pressing matter he had to tend to — no matter how cutely his friend pouted at the rejection. 

 

Lance's head thumped painfully against the wall, his whole body pressed against it, while Luca assaulted his neck, sucked and bit deep marks over the already fading ones. 

“Ou- Luca! Calm down.” He chided at the rough treatment, but only felt the fingers tighten on his waist, pinning him in place. 

Lance stretched his neck to the side to give the other more access, to placate the low growl that Luca emitted. It was no use to talk to him when he got like this. 

He was so easy. 

Lance would have laughed, if the air wasn't kissed out of his lungs and a greedy tongue staking claim in his mouth. 

They used to be pretty equal in height, but as the years went by, Luca had suddenly gained a few centimeters on Lance and used them to his advantage whenever he could. Like when he pulled Lance's chin up, just to look down at him through his lashes. The lights were dimmed, but still his eyes seemed to glow with the intensity of which he stared into Lance's. 

“You did that on purpose, didn't you?” He asked raspy and bit into Lance's lower lip, not really looking for him to answer.

It had been obvious, but not any less effective. 

Lance was being hoisted up against the wall, his legs found their way around Luca's waist easily, a well trained motion at this point.

They were still in the changing room of Luca's brothers ranch — there were never many people here after practice, but it was still a risky place, something they both usually avoided after being reprimanded far too many times by Valentino for different things they'd gotten up to.

“You've- Nnh- been gone for so long with Vale and the others, I thought I'd- Ah- look at other options.” Lamce panted out between getting mauled by Luca and feeling his fingers dig into the flesh if his ass. 

Luca was already riled up, this was just the cherry on top, to see how far Lance could push him. 

“You little Slut. ” Was the immediate answer and Lance's cock throbbed at that. 

Before long he found his feet back on the ground, bent over the bike with a big '10' painted on it. It was fine, he was bent over the cusjioned seat. Still, Luca did not hold back one bit and Lance could taste the familiar hint of copper while breathing against the material under him. 

His pants were hastily shoved down, one of his buttons coming undone in the process and rolling away, never to be seen again. 

“I think you're forgetting your place, Lance. Who you belong to.” The threat was accompanied by Luca gripping Lance's overgrown hair, wrapping it around his fist and a violent tug, making him arch immediately. His legs were kicked apart as far as his pants would allow and his hands held against the surface in front of him for any kind of purchase. 

Lance felt utterly exposed like that. Especially when Luca started to pull his cheeks apart and spit directly on his wanting hole. 

“You really think anyone can replace me, fuck you like you need it?” 

Instead of Luca's fingers, which Lance expected, he received nothing. All he could feel was the rapidly cooling liquid slowly making its way down over his taint, balls and thighs. He whined in suspense, not able to nod his head from Luca still keeping him on a tight leash.

“Maybe—” he pressed out, still pushing, still testing. He heard it before he really felt it, the loud sound of skin meeting skin. Searing hot pain shot through Lance, red blooming in the shape of Luca's hand on the apex of his ass in seconds.

He got no time to recoup himself, another hit following very close to the first one, making Lance's knees buckle a bit and a groan escaping him. 

“What's that? Didn't quite hear you there, Stroll.” Luca's voice had a mean lilt to it and he followed it up with another tug on his hair and a set of slaps to the other side.

He continued his assault, alternating the pace and position of his strikes.

Each strike felt like lightning hitting Lance and it burned so good .

Really, nobody could compare. Nobody would dare to use this much force, nobody saw him quite as an equal as Luca did. 

Burning marks were blooming beautifully on his skin, pulsing with his heartbeat and sending shivers of pleasure through his core.

When Luca was finally satisfied with his work, even the lightest breeze set Lance's nerves on fire and made his skin sting.

His cock was leaking with arousal, but he knew that it wouldn't see any attention for quite some time.

“Fuck, you're such a needy whore. Look at you, arched and begging for me to fill you. Maybe I should just let you stay like this until your darling Ollie finds you. Let everyone have a turn. Wouldn't you want that?” 

Lance visibly shuddered at that, sank more in that demeaning position, presenting himself to Luca, who gladly took the invitation. 

His tongue lapped languidly over the tight ring of muscles, dipped in without hesitation or strong resistance. 

Lance practically melted, tried his best to keep himself upright and holding onto the metal surface in front of him.

 

“Oh fuck- Luca-, wait-” he moaned out, but his plea fell on deaf ears. The blonde haired man continued to lick and suck, to eat him out like it was his last meal on earth, lewd moans and sucking sounds echoing through the barely furnished room. 

Luca grabbed onto Lance's cheeks, massaging the red marks there and pressing them, coaxing a pained hiss from his lover. 

It was maddening. The duality of pain and pleasure making Lance's mind go hazy, drunk and desperate to be filled. 

He keened at the feeling of Luca's fingers hooking in, spreading his slutty hole with ease.

“Tell me what you want, princess.” 

“Your cock! Please, fuck, please, please, please I need it Luca- I—” 

He didn't even hear Luca unbuckling his pants, but it didn't matter, all that was important now was the feeling of a thick tip pressing against his gaping hole. 

“That's right, you want this. You need this. Nobody else's.” He growled while rubbing his tip teasingly, almost pushing but instead gliding along it, the pre and copious amount of saliva making the drag easy. 

Lance whined impatiently, tried to push back on it, but Luca would deny him every time.

Only when a broken sob could be heard between the cacophony of please’s and fuck me’s did Luca finally snap his hips forward, spearing into Lance in one hard thrust.

If anyone was still near the track, they certainly had heard the wanton moan that Lance exhaled. 

It was perfect, filling him completely and pressing against all of his sweet spots. 

Without Luca's iron grip to the base of Lance's cock, he would have cum just from that. But of course he was again denied. 

The taller man did not wait for any adjustment period and fucked into Lance, punching sinful sounds out of him and pulling him back on each thrust by his hair.

Luca's cock dragged against Lance's tight walls, filled him so much he felt like bursting, so deep it was rearranging his insides. Lance's face was wet, whether it was from sweat or tears, he couldn't tell. 

Whenever Luca bottomed out his hips and thighs were slapping against the tender and red skin of Lance's abused ass, making pain jolt through him. 

It was heaven and hell at the same time.

“Oh god Luca, please, I can't- let me cum, please, I need- fuck- please, please let me cum, let me-”

His legs were shaking, threatening to give out for real this time, standing on the tip of his toes while he was getting railed into another dimension.

“You think you deserve that, after your little performance today, Stroll?” 

Before he could even try to form an answer, his knees met the floor, making his vision black out for a second. He was tossed on his back, legs hooked over Luca's shoulders and bent until they touched his chest. 

He felt a painful pressure on his dick and noticed the snap of his own hairband wrapped twice around his base. Luca must have snagged it off his wrist while he first shoved him into the wall.

“No- please, Luca. I can't- take it off, please— I can't take it, I can't.”

The tears were now freely falling from Lance's cheeks. The band was tight and stopped all blood flow to his dick, making it red and swollen in seconds. It was painful and he was so close to the edge, he felt like he was going insane. 

“You can, caro. I know you do.” Luca cooed while sinking back into Lance's gaping hole, groaning at the new angle and feeling.

In this position he could appreciate Lance's expressions, see how hazy and unfocused his eyes were and the splotchy blush on his cheeks. He was drooling, strands of hair sticking to his face that was twisting in pain and pleasure.

To Luca he had never looked more beautiful. 

He knew he hit the right spot when Lance's eyes opened wide and he arched off the floor with a silent cry on his lips. 

Like this he could hit it with precision, fuck into him like a man obsessed and make him see stars.

“You're mine, Lance. Nobody can have you, touch you, look at you the way I do. Only I can make you feel like that. Don't you ever forget it.” Lance's own breath was laboured, pleasure spiking in him as Luca clamped down on him, sucking him in as if he never wanted to part again.

Lance nodded frantically while trying to hold on to Luca's body, carving deep red marks into his skin with every thrust.

Luca licked into Lance's mouth before he groaned against his parted lips:

“Tell me, use your words, princess.” 

Lance whined in overstimulation but tried his best to comply with his breath being fucked out of him.

“Yours- Ohh- only yours- Hnn- nobody else. Ffah- Sir.” 

Luca's thrusts faltered at that and he captured Lance's mouth in a desperate and messy kiss. It was too open, too much saliva, too much teeth — it was perfect.

Luca thrusted one last time and then filled him with a strained moan. 

He hit Lance's sweet spot head on, gently rocking on the spot, milking Lance's prostate until the man's body went taut, vision whited out and his still bound cock pulsed frantically without releasing anything. 

He felt it everywhere, like a hot wave of pleasure that rolled through his whole body, threatening to pull him under. All that remained was a fizzling feeling in his head that made him sob out again and pull Luca closer. 

The next minutes were a blur and Luca was there, but not really. He could only recall certain sensations, like the pressure on his cock being released and a warm, wet cloth on his body. 

When he came to himself Lance was tightly wound against Luca, in a bed he couldn't recall going to. He felt Luca's hands cradling through his long strands of hair, still a bit wet from a shower he couldn't remember taking. 

It didn't matter.

All that mattered was that he could press his nose into the crux of Luca's neck and inhale his calming scent. 

“Hey, how are you feeling, sleepyhead?” Came the soft question from above. 

Instead of an answer he just gave an exhausted but happy sigh.

Luca chuckled at that and wound his arms tighter around Lance.

“Don't pull another stunt like that. Who knows what I'll do next time.” He joked and pressed a kiss to Lance's head.

A sly smile appeared on Lance's face and he hummed in contemplation. 

“We'll see.”

[kashi-prompts]

Title: The Dango Shop

Prompt: You've recently opened up a dango shop and Team 7 is excited to try it.

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader

Rating: E

A/N: This was meant to be angst and it turned into fluff lol Also, I am 3/3 on sitting down to write this week. It's amazing what a week away from the corporate world will do for your brain.

***

Dango.

160g joshinko non-glutinous rice flour

40g shiratamako glutinous rice flour

60g sugar

200ml hot water

1 tsp matcha green tea powder

red food colouring.

***

Spring

“C’mon, Kakashi-sensei,” you heard a shrill voice gripe. The commotion caused you to look up, peering though the steam emitting from the warm stove of your dango shop. When no one arrived through the felt fabric curtain, you returned to patiently kneading the dough until its correct consistency.

“You said you would buy us a treat!” Another voice spoke up from the dirt street beyond the shop. You looked up again, noticing four pairs of shinobi sandals in front of your shop. You smiled at their banter, looking back down at your work as you pushed the dough between the palms of your hand. You added more water to the mixture.

“Fine, fine,” you heard an adult voice concede, a heavy sigh in the wake of his response. “This is what you want?”

“Yes!” Two voices said in unison.

One pair of sandals turned, pulling back the cloth veil that separated the outside world from your little street shop. A bushel of silver hair emerged first, bowing his head as he entered.

Shinobi. You stood up straight, smiling as three children followed closely behind him, nipping at his heels.

"Welcome," you greeted them warmly. You slapped the ball of dough back on the wooden board, placing your hand on your hip.

"Hello," the man said, looking up at you for the first time. Your eyes met his single dark gaze and you felt your back flush, spreading to the backs of your ears like wildfire.

Kakashi of the Sharingan.

Your eyes remained locked for a beat, the commotion of the children seating themselves a distant noise between the two of you. You had heard of him, of course. Even civilians in the village had heard of such a legendary shinobi. But you had never seen him in person, let alone this close.

He was much taller - and more handsome despite three quarters of his face being covered - than the rumors had said.

Finally you blinked, looking away and greeting the children.

"We heard your shop is the best Dango shop in the village! Better than old man Chiri's down the street!" the yellow haired child said, his enthusiasm contagious. The pink haired girl grinned, following the lead of her sensei to sit at the counter.

You flushed, scratching the back of your head as you grinned.

"Thank you - but I'm sure that isn't entirely true. All dango is delicious. I'm glad to have you all here though!" You looked between the group, assessing them all. "So - what'll it be?"

"Matcha flavored!" the yellow haired one exclaimed, practically crawling onto the counter. He picked up a pair of chopsticks, eager to touch anything in his site.

"Red Bean Paste, please," the pink haired girl replied calmly, her cheeks rosy from the heat of the day.

"Kibi Dango," a brooding voice from the end replied, his shoulders hunched over the countertop. You wrote their orders down, lifting your head to Kakashi, your pen poised for his order.

"And you?"

"I am good, thank you," He waved a kind, dismissive hand. "Not much of a sweets man."

"No worries," you smiled to him. He smiled in return. You began preparing the ingredients, plopping them neatly on a plate and distributing them to each customer.

"Wow!" the yellow haired boy exclaimed, "this is even better looking then Old Man Chiri's too!"

"I'm sure his is just an older recipe," you reminded him, returning to your dough kneading. "Everyone makes dango differently. Just because his may not look good doesn't mean it won't taste good!"

"She's right, Naruto. Respect your elders," the sensei corrected him.

"I'm just speaking the truth!"

"You don't have to say everything that comes to your mind out loud," Kakashi reminded him, peering over at him irritably.

"Delicious," the pink haired girl hummed, her mouth filled with the dessert.

"Thank you," You smiled happily, your lips pressed together.

"Whicha makin' back there, anyway?" The one named Naruto asked, his mouth filled with dessert. A piece of dango fell from his lips.

"Close your mouth when you eat, idiot," the dark haired boy leaned over the counter, irritated. Naruto flushed, his eyebrows knitting together as he swallowed the dessert whole.

"More dango," you told them, lifting the ball of dough.

"Obviously," the dark haired one said again.

Naruto growled, kneeling on his stool and gritting his teeth as he stared at the other boy.

"No fighting you two!" Kakashi huffed, pulling Naruto's jacket back into his chair.

"Why does Sasuke have to be so rude all the time?"

"He's not being rude, you're being rude!" the pink haired girl defended.

"Keep out of this, Sakura!"

The sensei sighed heavily, placing his chin in his palm and looking up at you - begging for sympathy.

"See what I have to deal with?" He said, his eyebrows lifted.

"I'm sure it's not all that bad," you replied fondly, cutting off the piece of dough with your hands and rolling it into a ball.

"If my hair wasn't already grey, it would be grey by now with these three," he continued to watch you, a self deprecating chuckle coming from behind his mask. You laughed as well.

"The grey suits you as a sensei," you teased, glancing up, "very distinguished."

"Distinguished?" Naruto scoffed, already standing up to exit the shop.

"Ha!" the pink haired girl followed, Sasuke close in her wake.

"No respect," the silver haired shinobi shook his head, shoving his hand in his pocket. He sectioned out his change in his palm and placed it on the counter. You noticed the hefty tip.

"Thank you," you smiled, rolling another dough ball. "And good luck!"

He laughed, looking up and catching your eye again, "thanks. I'm going to need it."

***

One Week Later

Sweaty and tired, the three children and their sensei walked through your shop door, shuffling their feet as they sat down at the counter.

"Oh," you smiled happily, pleasantly surprised. "Back again?"

"They haven't stopped talking about your dango since we left the last time," their master responded, amused as his students shoulders slumped from a hard days work.

"Boy, you wore them out today, huh?" you noted, watching the trio staring into space.

"They'll get used to it," Kakashi said, ruffling Naruto's blond hair. The boy swatted him away.

You watched as he pulled a familiar book out of his back pocket, slipping his thumb through an indented page. You started rolling another row of dango balls.

“Icha-Icha fan?” You asked, pushing your hair from your eyes with the back of your coated hand. Flour dusted your face and your hair stuck to your forehead like glue. One onyx eye raised to meet yours, wide with curiosity and surprise.

“I am,” he closed his book, amused as he leaned over the counter. “You're familiar?"

“I’ve got the whole series in hardcover and paperback,” you replied pridefully. You never had anyone to talk about books with and you were pleased to have a fellow literature lover in the shop. He adjusted himself to face you.

“I also have the author's commentary of Volume I as well."

“Commentary, huh?” You could tell he was barely containing his astonishment. His eye glistened.

“It’s quite good. It really ties together some of the underlying themes of the series. The drama and romance is unparalleled to anything I've read before. I could let you borrow it, if you’d like.”

The young girl beside him looked over at Sasuke, her green eyes wide as she stifled a giggle. The boy ignored her, placing his cheek in on the base of his palm and huffing as he turned away. The sensei ignored them both, his eyes fixed on you, his jaw taunt.

“That would be wonderful,” he finally responded with a grin. Your heart sped up, your pulse quickening under your perspiring skin. It suddenly felt hotter than usual in the room, despite the cooler spring temperatures just outside the threshold of your shop.

You hadn’t realized you had stopped rolling the dough balls, the one ball that was in your hand melting under the heat radiating from your palm. You felt yourself flush under his gaze. You looked back down at your work, severing the connection.

“What was your name, by the way?” The sensei asked, trying desperately to compose himself as Naruto lifted his head, observing the now obvious tense interaction between the two of you.

"Can I just have some food, please?" the boy complained loudly.

You looked up, sweating profusely from the short interaction. You glanced over at the sensei, unsure if your mind was exaggerating the interaction in your head. He straightened his back, rolling his shoulders as he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"[y/n]," You answered, your eyes connecting again with his, "And I'll have that food coming right up, kids."

***

The trio continued to come in each week with their sensei. Every Monday well into the summer months, they would arrive disheveled and defeated, their faces covered with sweat and grime. Their master always sat in the middle, each week growing more and more attentive, it seemed.

"The same, please," he would order for them, their foreheads all placed tiredly on the counter.

Carefully, you arranged the dango on plates and passed them to each of them. One by one, they lifted their heads from between their arms and began eating.

You watched as Kakashi began to lift Volume II from his back pocket, perching it between his fingers as the trio began to eat next to him quietly. Before he could crack it open, you placed a plate in front of him.

"What's this?" He asked, a confused smile behind his mask.

"A new recipe," you replied, "It's made with a soy glaze. It's more savory then sweet. You said you didn't like sweet. I mean - I have been working on it for awhile. I didn't just make it fo- ... Maybe you could be my tester before I put it on the menu?"

He looked up at you, barely hiding a pleased smile as you stopped the string of words coming uncontrollably from behind your lips.

“Thank you,” he nodded, looking down at his plate. He placed his book back in his pocket. “This looks tasty."

"I hope you like it," you offered, feeling a familiar blush creep up your cheeks. "It's on the house."

"I'm sure I will," he winked.

***

The last week of summer was quickly approaching. The heat bearing down on Konoha more than it ever had before. Your dango shop felt like a sweat shop rather than a sweets shop.

"Ohhh, [y/n]!" You heard Naruto call out from beyond the curtain of your shop. "Where's my dangoooo?"

"Right hereeee," you called back to him.

Your relationship with the group had grown since the spring. You saw them every week, sometimes twice a week if you were lucky. You learned Sakura's favorite food was syrup covered dumplings, and Sasuke, who didn't speak much, loved rice balls. You experimented with the trio, always asking for their feedback on new desserts and treats. They always loved them. Especially Naruto.

"Oh!" you had exclaimed one afternoon, your eyes landing on Kakashi. "I have something for you."

"Oh, another treat?" he asked expectantly, his eyebrow lifted as he uncrossed his legs and faced you.

"I guess you could say that," you patted your dusty hands on your apron, retreating to the back.

"Man, Kakashi-sensei always gets the good stuff!" Naruto whined.

"You just had free dango last week," you heard Sasuke remind him.

"Yeah, but-"

You returned from the back, a beaten up book in your hand. With a smile, you passed it over the counter to Kakashi. He looked down at it, his eyes suddenly bright.

"The Icha-Icha authors commentary," you explained, returning to your dough rolling. "We spoke about it the first time we-"

"Yes, I remember," He looked back up at you, his crows-feet prominent as he smiled. He began inspecting it. "Jeez, It's almost as beaten up as my novels are. The spine is coming apart from the pages."

"Oh, hush," you waved a hand, "I better get that back when you're done! I don't want to have to hunt you down for it, Hatake," you pointed a knowing finger at him.

Kakashi laughed, ignoring Naruto as he peered over at the contents of the book. The young boys cheeks flushed as his eyes skimmed the page.

"You will," he chuckled, "don't worry."

You glanced back up at him, a soft affectionate gaze catching your eye. You averted your eyes.

***

The crisp chill of fall nipped at your cheeks as you finished closing up the shop. You tightened the scarf around your neck, pulling down the curtain in front of the storefront.

It has been a long day, your knees aching from standing for well over twelve hours. You sighed heavily, bending your spine in an effort to relieve the tension.

"Hey," you heard behind you. Turning around, Kakashi stood nearby, a smile behind his mask as he greeted you with a wave.

"Oh, hello," you smiled, brushing the hair that swept in front of your eyes from the wind. "It's not Monday."

He laughed, his eyes looking at you fondly, "I know."

"Come from some soy glazed dango?" you asked, chuckling.

"No. Not quite," he smiled, kicking a rock with the tip of his sandal.

"How about returning my book?" You needled him fondly. You relished in how easy it had become to banter with him.

"Actually," He paused, pulling your book from his back pocket, "Yes."

You smiled, taking it out of his hand. You noticed the spine was reconnected to its pages. The front cover had been cleaned off.

"I glued it with fabric glue the best I could," He offered modestly. You looked up with the book in your hands and smiled.

"Thank you," you replied, "You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged coyly, "I wanted to."

Slipping the book under your arm, you turned and stood on your toes to reach the "open" sign of your shop. Above you, you saw an arm reach over your head, flipping it to "closed" for you.

You turned back around, looking up at him. You laughed, flustered. "Thank you. I've been meaning to move that sign down so I can reach it better."

"Maybe you just need to get taller," he quipped. You snorted, pushing his shoulder.

"Where are your students?" you asked, changing the subject, "Did you exhaust them again today?"

"Hmm," he replied after a moment, "No. I went fairly easy on them today."

"Are you sure about that?" you teased, looking back over at him. "Last time you said you 'went easy on them' Sakura nearly fainted. Some sensei you are."

"I'm quite sure they are fine," he laughed lightly. "But thank you for the vote of confidence."

"Anytime," you replied cheekily.

A few people walked passed your shop and you smiled at them. A few moments passed where no one said anything, the awkward silence between you both growing deafening.

"Well, is there anything I can help you with?" You asked finally, adjusting your bun uncomfortably.

"Uh," he began hesitantly, "Yes, actually."

He looked down at you, cautiously. "I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk. Together. Just the two of us."

Your felt your breath leave your lungs, feeling a cold shock to your body as your eyes meeting his. You blinked in astonishment. He smiled reassuringly.

"I -" you began, your brain suddenly blank.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," his quickly responded, his cheeks blushing in unison with yours.

"No!" you told him quickly, your hands lifted in embarrassment. "I mean yes! I mean, of course!"

You both stared at each other, rouge painted across both of your cheeks. Finally he smiled, his eye rounded as his cheekbone lifted.

"Well then - after you," he gestured forward. You stifled a smile.

You began walking. Fall foliage skidded across the cobble stone street as you bit your lip. You saw him glance at you out of the corner of your eye. His shoulder grazed yours.

"So," he began earnestly, "Tell me about yourself..."