#i'll do the remaining one and get to replying to drafts!

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 1: I'LL SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

rb sebastian vettel x gf!reader

word count: 4095

summary: seb's gf finds out she's pregnant, and she decides that hiding her pregnancy is the best she could do due to seb's career

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of cheating, curse words, angst, fighting. set on may 2013. for a bit of background: reader and seb have been friends since they were literal babies, but growing up their feelings changed and started dating on 2006.

a/n: this is actually the first chapter of the very first series, Infinity, i posted here! i had to cancel it because i had some problems with wattpad people telling me through indirects i copied their work and i got very, very unmotivated with this story i absolutely love (when actually this was a draft I had of a tom holland fic back in 2017 lol), but i'd love to post the following parts if you like this one! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

You pulled the flush and got up, being careful not to get dizzy. You took some paper and wiped the corners of your mouth to remove any possible traces of vomit. You headed to the sink automatically, quickly pulling out the toothbrush you’ve gotten used to carrying since nausea became part of your daily routine. You really tried to get rid of the acidity in your throat and the bad taste in your mouth, but as you expected, and knowing you've been experiencing this more times than you'd like in the past month and a half, it was impossible.

"Y/N, are you still there? Are you okay?" Britta's voice, accompanied by a few knocks on the door, snapped you out of your trance. You startled and forced yourself to answer, even though it was the last thing you feel like doing.

"Yes, I’m coming. Just a sec!"

"Don’t take too long," she replied. "Not that I don’t want you to take your time, but Seb is worried."

Panic-stricken, you suppressed a laugh that almost escaped.

If only he knew what you were about to do…

"Don’t worry, I’ll be right out," you answered.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating your own reflection longer than you’d like. Minutes passed, and you almost completely lost track of time, aware that you needed to put an end to the intrusive thought that was telling you that what you were about to do was, wrong but inevitably the best thing.

You were going to break away from everything you’ve wanted since you were a child just because things hadn't turned out "right." Seb was at the peak of his professional career, constantly surpassing himself in every race, making history, while you remained stuck in your hometown, working at a bar, dealing with drunks and immature kids pretending to be adults daily, because you didn’t have the luck, or perhaps the financial means, to study what you had dreamed of since you were a child who just wanted to make music.

You leaned on the sink, feeling the cold starting to penetrate your body. A great tremor shook you, and it became increasingly difficult to stay on your feet. Your eyes filled with tears as you confronted the reality of what you were about to do, of the decision you'd made.

Since your boyfriend began not only achieving his dreams but making a name for himself, you thought you didn’t deserve him because you were heading in the opposite direction. Now that you’ve gotten pregnant by him, possibly because the birth control pills you were taking failed for some unknown reason, you felt like this even more.

Despite the love you still felt and possibly always will feel for Sebastian, since you took the pregnancy test with Hanna at one of the most secluded malls in Heppenheim, you knew that letting him know he was going to be a father was never part of your plans.

"Come on, Y/N…" you told yourself, still staring at your reflection. "This is for Seb. You're doing this for him and his career."

You took a deep breath a couple more times, feeling the knot in your throat choking you. You looked at the girl full of insecurities you were one more time. Her eyes reflected doubt and, above all, fear, and you sadly sensed that it will continue to be this way from now on.

Trying to control yourself, you slowly opened the bathroom door, as if wanting to torture yourself. Britta was sitting in one of the chairs, reviewing something in a notebook until you closed the door a bit harder than you meant to.

"Are you really okay?" she asked again, giving you an uncertain look. "I've been hearing you vomit for several weeks now. Don’t you think you should go to the doctor?"

The knot in your throat seemed to tighten even more. See a doctor… Of course you’d been to the doctor! Four weeks and, as of today, four days pregnant was the answer, but no one beyond your parents and your best friend could know.

"Yes, I’m fine," you replied quickly, trying to fake your answer as best as you could. "Don’t worry. It’s probably just a bit of stress," you added, praying she believed you. "I haven't had time to see a doctor, but I assure you, with all my heart, that everything is fine."

And that's why you're leaving the love of your life today.

Britta seemed to hesitate for a moment. Her lips remained slightly open, as if she wanted to say something. Her look gave you the feeling that she didn't quite believe what you were saying.

"Whatever you say, Y/N," she finally said, standing up from her seat. "But seriously, if you need to talk or anything, I’m here for you."

"I know."

"Well, seeing that you're as calm as a lake, we’d better hurry up," she told you. "The last free practice session is about to start, and Seb is probably worried why we haven’t come back yet."

You prepared to leave the room with her. You were more than sure to go with her, but as you were almost out the room, you realize it was now or never.

You stopped before going from the driver’s room to the garage, watching Britta hurry down the stairs, probably aware that you were running late even though there were still about forty-five minutes before the session started.

"Wait, Britta. Just a sec!"

You were convinced your shout from the top of the stairs was heard by more people than you’d like. You wished you could turn invisible as you saw some eyes on you, including Britta’s, which made it hard to speak, and not to mention the variety of emotions you were feeling inside you.

You needed to calm down and act a bit better, or everything you’d been mulling over will end up falling apart.

"I’d like to talk to Seb… alone," you finally said.

"Y/N Y/L/N," she said your name much more seriously now. "You’ve told me that everything is fine, but… are you sure it really is? Are you sure nothing’s wrong?"

No, everything is wrong, and yes, more things are happening than I’d like.

You knew you could trust Britta completely. You were sure that if you told her the news before you did to Seb, she wouldn’t say anything, at least not right away. You wanted to do it; in fact, you’d love to do it because she was like a second mother to you, but you knew you couldn't because, once you left, there’s a really high chance she might end up telling him everything in a moment of weakness.

"Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s nothing serious, don’t worry," you replied with a sigh, trying to console the PR woman and yourself. "I just need to talk to him about… well, a minor issue."

"Of course. Go get him, I’ll wait here. He’s probably talking to Rocky or Horner about who knows what. He hasn’t gone far, especially considering how eager he was to see you."

"Can you get him for me?" you let it out casually.

You ignored her last comment because now, your nerves were eating you alive. Britta seemed to notice your anxiety, so you were grateful she ignored it and acted as if nothing is wrong.

You sighed in relief when you saw her nod, and you couldn't stop thanking her out loud for what she just did for you.

"Lie down on the physio’s couch and try to rest a bit, you look a bit pale," she insisted. Reluctantly, and after repeating it a couple more times, you finally listened to her. "Seb will be here soon. You know he’ll drop everything when it comes to you."

And it was true. Once she left, you remained lying down, drawing small shapes on your stomach with your index finger. As you whispered things to what would supposedly be your child, a whirlwind of varied thoughts flooded your mind.

A small pressure settled in your chest as you became aware that the idea of breaking up with Sebastian was becoming a reality. You didn't want to face it and largely refused to, but you knew that for both of you, especially him, it was actually the best.

Hiding the truth from the guy you’d loved longer than you’d like to admit is exactly the opposite of what you should do, but because he was the most important person in your life, and you knew him almost as well as yourself, you knew he'd have time to play moms and dads in real life.

This year, the only thing he should focus on was winning his fourth Formula 1 World Championship, not learning how to change diapers or feed a baby.

Your thoughts vanished when the door opened abruptly, startling you. Seb appeared with his suit hanging at his waist, hair completely tousled, and a face revealing worry matching the situation you haven’t told him about yet.

"Sunshine! Britta told me you’re not well. What happened? Do you want to go to the doctor? I don’t care about missing the free practice: you’re the most important thing."

The German quickly took your cheeks in his hands. You hadn’t even sat up, and he was already trying to warm your face with his palms, moving it from side to side and examining you as if he was a doctor with the solution to your problems.

"I’m fine, love, relax," you said, breaking free from his grip.

"I know you better than I’d like, Y/N. You’re pale," he pointed out. "You rarely get pale. The last time I saw you like this was when the police chased us after they caught you doing an illegal concert in the school square."

Your anxiety grew more at his perception. You couldn't hide the lie you concocted with Hanna for much longer.

"Seb, really, I’m fine," you insisted, swallowing hard as you tried to find the right words.

He didn't seem to agree with your answer once again, and he didn't seem willing to let it go easily.

For a moment, you were tempted to tell him the truth, especially when you noticed his eyes fixed on you, not intending to look away until he found out what you really wanted to say… As if he wants to know that he was going to be a father next January if your gynecologist’s calculations and the latest technology were correct.

You mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. His concern overwhelmed you completely. When he made a move to hug you and you fell into his arms, you knew you couldn't keep dodging the truth.

"Seb…" you started to say, slowly pulling away from him, "the truth is that... well, there's something wrong."

He clenched his jaw and got very serious.

"Tell me, Y/N. Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."

"I know, love. I want to tell you everything, but…" you began calmly, your voice breaking. "This is different, and it’s going to be a bit difficult."

"What do you mean by different and difficult? Y/N, what’s going on?"

Your hands fidgeted nervously as you tried to find the best way to cause him the least harm possible. You noticed that the German's nervous and worried tone had dissipated, and now it was anger that seemed to be consuming him.

"I want to tell you, but I don’t know how to do it without hurting you," you admitted in a whisper.

There it was, you had let it slip.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you decided to wait for Sebastian’s response. Anguish had taken hold of him, and you knew he was waiting for your words as much as you were waiting for his.

His behavior wasn’t helping you; on the contrary, the feeling of guilt was consuming you, as you had foreseen, but there was no turning back now.

It was impossible for you to even think coherently enough to say something that made sense.

You watched as your boyfriend’s gaze turned into pure pain, a pleading search for answers that you didn’t dare to give him.

"Seb…" you spoke again, struggling to maintain your composure and reaching for his hand at the same time. "I need you to listen to me, please."

"I just want you to tell me the truth, Y/N," he called you by your full name. That was the indicator that things weren’t going well and wouldn’t be again. "Whatever it is, I’ll be able to deal with it."

"I don’t want us to be together anymore," you declared. "I’m not in love with you anymore. I haven’t been for about a month or so."

The silence that flooded the room after your false confession was too uncomfortable. His eyes filled with tears; yours did too, but for a different reason than his.

He thought you had stopped loving him when, in fact, you loved him more than ever, especially now.

"Why are you telling me this? Why, Y/N?" he wanted to know. "I thought we were great… I really believed we were better than ever."

"I don’t know, Seb," you murmured between sobs, trying to hide your face so he wouldn’t see how truly affected you were. "There are… there are couples that stop loving each other, and that’s what I think has happened with me. With us."

"What can I do to make you fall in love with me again? I can’t lose you. I can’t lose the sunshine of my life, not when we promised each other a life together."

"You can’t do anything, Seb, and I’m really sorry," you falsely admitted with sadness, trying not to succumb to his desperate plea.

"Sometimes things stop being what they were in the beginning, and, well… ours is no longer what it used to be."

"Of course, it’s not what it used to be! Everything was getting better until you decided to drop this on me, Y/N!" Sebastian yelled at you.

"I was even going to ask you if you wanted us to get…"

"And that’s why I feel it’s better if we move on, but each on our own path!" you interrupted with another shout.

It’s not real, Y/N. Everything you’re saying is a lie.

You inhaled and exhaled more times than you would have liked, but it felt necessary. This charade to try to make Seb’s life a little better was not only costing you your relationship but also your mental health in the long run.

"Is there someone else, Y/N?"

Vettel's voice denoted anger. Rage consumed him at the possibility that there was an answer he didn’t want to hear. His fists, clenched tightly and turning his knuckles white, were proof of it.

"No, not exactly."

And once again, the camouflaged truth.

"What are you saying?" he spat at you, getting closer and closer, consumed by anguish.

"I mean not exactly, but… yes. There is someone else, Seb," you admitted.

The shouts, full of reproaches, insults, and slurs, flooded the room.

You tried to turn a deaf ear. You thought this was all part of a performance and tried to convince yourself that in the future, everything would be fine when you knew it would be the opposite.

"How could you do this to me, Y/N?! How could you cheat on me after almost seven fucking years together?!" Sebastian shouted, taking out his anger on a vase on his desk, throwing it to the ground, spilling the water and the flowers he had given you just a day ago.

"We’ve been through so many things together. We’ve grown up together and fulfilled our dreams together, and now you’re leaving me for some guy you must have slept with on a whim?!"

"Do you think this is easy for me, Sebastian?" you replied, your words true for once. "Stop lying, okay? The only person who has fulfilled their dreams here is you," you said, showing your disagreement on that topic that you knew hurt you and that he had mentioned to hurt you. "While you’ve been living your life as a driver and being the center of attention, I’ve kept working in the same disgusting bar full of creepy old men I’ve been working at since I finished high school," you shouted, furious. You knew this kind of stress wasn’t good for the baby, but right now you didn’t care. "I’ve been saving as much as I could to build a prosperous future even though my salary was a pittance, composing songs and singing them with the hope that they’ll reach someone someday and not be forgotten."

"I’ve told you a million times that you don’t need to work in that fucking bar full of drunk old men who fuck you with their eyes to have a good life," he protested, now much calmer. "With what they pay me we can live comfortably. It's more than enough for both of us."

"I know," you responded calmly, though you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, "but I also know that I can achieve things on my own without anyone’s help."

The blonde let out an ironic laugh. Immediately, he crossed his arms, lifted his head, and looked at you.

"You’ve always been too stubborn, Y/N. Now I see what your future expectations are. After all, I understand: if you never got into the Berlin Art Academy on your own, and you’re still working at the same place after so long…"

You stood still, not knowing what to say or do because you knew exactly what he meant with every word that came out of his mouth. It felt like your feet were cemented to the ground; his words continuously hitting you, wanting to hurt you more and more.

"How dare you to say that to me?"

If you were already shaken and almost broken after this whole conversation, now you were completely sunk. Seeing your reaction, tears streaming down your cheeks non-stop, he seemed to regret it.

Quickly, he approached you, opening his arms intending for you to bury yourself in them. You, as stubborn as he said you were, refused not only the hug but any physical and non-physical contact he wanted to have with you.

"Y/N, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to say that," yes, that was clear, but it had already been said, and the damage was done. "I was wrong. Please forgive me."

No matter how much he kept talking, trying to apologize and make amends, there was nothing else to do.

Without saying anything else, you began to gather all your belongings from the driver’s room of who could now be considered your ex-boyfriend. You didn’t want to do it; you didn’t want to start the zero-contact phase with the boy you had loved since you were ten years old, the one who had loved you like no one ever had before and like no one ever would.

You were saying goodbye to the father of your child to venture into raising her alone so he could pursue his dream in peace and achieve all the successes he so longed for.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

“Packing. I’m leaving.”

Your eyes were fixed on the floor, your hands fumbling with the few belongings left to pack in the small backpack you usually took to the paddock. Now, you would have to return to your hotel room and quickly pack everything into the suitcase, rush to the airport, and pray you didn’t miss the flight.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” the blonde frowned, incredulous. “It’s Friday, Y/N, we have the whole weekend ahead of us.”

“Well, from now on, you’ll have all the weekends to yourself,” you shook your head, unable to bear his comments trying to make you stay. “From now on, you won’t have me here on weekends, nor in your life. I’m leaving your life, and I’m not coming back,” you repeated, emphasizing the finality of your words.

Vettel was speechless at your declaration. He kept shaking his head, approaching you, trying to take your belongings, but you stopped him.

No matter how much you wanted to, you weren’t going to stay.

“What do you mean by ‘leaving my life and not coming back’?”

“It means I’m going back to Heppenheim, Sebastian,” you turned to him, trying to maintain composure. “I’m going back, you’ll also end up going back even though we live… you live in Switzerland,” you immediately corrected yourself, “but I hope we never see each other again.”

The firmness behind your words scared you. Everything was a lie that, as the conversation progressed, had grown until you doubted what was real and what wasn’t.

“I really hope you achieve everything you are working hard for,” you continued, insisting to yourself not to break down right there. “I hope you win the championship this year and get the four consecutive ones you’ve wanted for. You, more than anyone, deserve all of it, and I know you’re capable of that and much more.”

You said nothing more because you had stopped being strong. You left, without looking back, the room where you had spent much more time than imaginable, and one of the many places that made up the story starring Sebastian Vettel and you.

You carefully descended the stairs. You walked with a false sense of security through the RedBull garage, dodging any questions about why you were crying, where you were going, and if you had argued with the team’s golden boy, including the endless questions from Britta Roeske that you were trying to ignore at all costs.

You felt curious eyes following you wherever you went, but you didn’t care in the slightest. It was all done.

Now, it was just you and the little pea, or whatever size the baby was.

“Y/N, wait!”

Sebastian’s desperate shouts echoed behind you, getting closer.

You stopped dead, clutching the only strap of the backpack hanging over your shoulder. You slowly turned toward the direction the voices seemed to be coming from and saw the driver running to you, almost choking, as he wiped tears from his cheeks and even those still falling from his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

His voice was choked, and his hands acted on their own. Still, it didn’t stop him from taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, where you tasted each other’s tears as you had done many times in your relationship. Where you silently said millions of I love yous that only you and he knew perfectly.

“Please, don’t go, sunshine,” the German expressed. “Whatever it is, we can work on it, but please, don’t let us end.”

“I love you too, Seb, but there’s someone else.”

You finally confessed… not in the most ideal way, but in the right one, especially considering what your goal was after all this trail of lies.

“There’s a new person in my life, and I’m afraid to say that no matter how much I love you, I love them more than I love you, and I always will,” you continued, knowing that every word you were saying about your baby was true. “I love you, Sebastian Vettel, and I’ll never stop loving you, but that person is my main priority right now.”

“Have you been unfaithful?”

Sometimes silence is worth more than a thousand words. In this case, it was the exact opposite.

You stood in front of him for a few seconds, debating internally whether to answer or leave as calmly as possible, without attracting more attention than you already had. You decided on the latter because you couldn’t speak, and the tears wouldn’t let you see clearly; not to mention your judgment was so clouded that you couldn’t think clearly about the next step to end this nightmare.

You finally directed one last look at Seb; whispered that you loved him and always would, even though it was over between you.

All it took was for you to lower your head, turn around, and continue walking, fighting not to look back, to realize that you had made the biggest mistake of your life and would never, for anything in the world, be able to forgive yourself.

And you knew perfectly well that Seb wouldn’t either.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Having To Patch Soshiro Up After A Kaiju Attack

Soshiro Hoshina X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, injuries, mentions of death, teasing, and kaiju remains

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) I am enjoying the Kaiju No. 8 anime immensely and it's giving me all sorts of ideas to write! I have several more Kafka ones in my drafts and I want to write more for several other of the male characters. So keep an eye out I may write your favorite dude! I'm also thinking about opening my requests back up in case anyone has any Kaiju No. 8 requests, even though my drafts are insanely full. We'll just see but until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The suits made by Izumo Tech were a marvel of innovation and technology. Designed to give the members of Japan's fiercest warriors; The Defense Force, a fighting chance against the Kaiju that plagued their country. But still the warriors were only human no matter how amazing the suit.

Your booted feet thundered against the broken asphalt, breath heaving in pants as you raced across the now quiet battlefield. Just seconds ago it was Hell on Earth as you and your fellow soldiers fought for your very lives. But now Kaiju matter was splattered against everything. It was going to be quite the mess for whatever cleaning crew was open to do the dirty job. The attacks had become more frequent here lately, that the few companies that specialized in Kaiju clean up were becoming overwhelmed to get the different attack sights back to some semblance of normalcy for the citizens. But even that problem was far back from your mind. Only one person had you running so hard after fighting so intensely. Soshiro had gone silent after dispatching some of the smaller ones with his blades. You knew he had sustained injuries, but for him to go quiet, it wasn't a good sign. There was closer Third Division officers nearby but you knew with whatever stamina you had left you could make it. Your worries taking over any rational thought in your mind.

Konomi echoed in your ear, leading you straight towards Soshiro's location. Her frantic directions wasn't doing much to calm your nerves, but as an officer you couldn't let your anxiety show.

"Just around this corner," Konomi said. You thanked her turning down your communication device as you skidded around a pile of rubble. There leaned up against what remained of a wall was Soshiro. He held his side, eyes closed, and protective mask discarded at his side. Though winded and exhausted from the long race here, you gripped your rifle tighter the sling hitting your neck and tangling in the wild strands of hair that had broken free. Blood coated Soshiro's face and the fact that he wasn't responding to footsteps coming closer was more than concerning. Fear was beginning to grip your heart, when you finally got at his side.

"Two cracked ribs and significant blood loss," Konomi's sudden voice through the comm caused you to jump. "He's not critical just yet but I do have the medics on route to your location."

"I can staunch the blood flow," you replied. "I'll try to get him conscious again too."

"Good idea. I'll keep monitoring his vitals and let you know if anything changes."

"Copy."

Unslinging the rifle from your neck, you set it close by in case any threats remained. You removed the small med pack from your belt and got to work. Tapping at his cheek, you started working on getting Soshiro awake. Several moments went by and it wasn't until you put pressure on one of his worse wounds did he finally groan.

"Vice Captain," you continued to pat his cheek. "Vice Captain Hoshina! Soshiro wake up!"

He stirred, bleary eyes blinking against the bright sunlight before his gaze finally found you.

"Welcome back to the land of the living sir," you sighed in relief.

"So I died," he groaned. "And here I thought I was immortal."

"Well you didn't die but you do have a long road to recovery. You're pretty banged up and look terrible. The Kaiju Captain blew to smithereens looks better than you."

"Officer (L/N)," Soshiro groaned more as you wrapped several wounds tightly in gauze, "did anyone ever tell you that your bedside manner is garbage?"

"We're out on the battlefield and you're not laying on a bed sir," you grinned before going back to placing pressure on a wound that was too large for bandages. "Beside manners don't exist out here."

"Fieldside manner then," he glared. "And if you press any tighter to my side you're going to stab my lungs with my ribs."

"That's not me. That would be your suit keeping you from jostling your cracked ribs."

"(Y/N)! Vice-Captain Hoshina's vitals seem to be stabilizing more. Medics are inbound and will be there shortly," Konomi updated you and you acknowledged her.

"You had me worried Soshiro," you sniffed, hands stained with his blood. You had turned your comm off so you could talk with him in private for just a moment. You both didn't have long anyway with the evac team so close by.

"Sorry," he grimaced. Righting himself up more he wrapped one arm around your neck and pulled you in tight. "I'm sorry I worried you so much. I take risks but this time my decision wasn't the right one."

You held him as best as you could without hurting him further, "I'm just so glad you're okay!"

You hated crying but the relief you felt, had you breaking down in seconds. Soshiro wasn't used to seeing you cry and it broke his heart. Always the strong soldier, you couldn't help yourself around him as you wanted him by your side forever.

"You're not hurt are you," Soshiro asked as he stroked the back of your hair.

"No." You breathed deep, calming yourself and wiped your eyes. "Does that mean that I have surpassed the great Soshiro Hoshina in skills?"

"Absolutely not. We both know that my blade skills leave everyone else in the dust," he scoffed.

"Yeah but I didn't decide to use my ribs to stop a kaiju punch."

"Shut up."

You laughed kissing his forehead quickly, as it was the only place not covered in blood, as the boots of the medics came closer.

"I'm glad you're okay," you whispered. Soshiro couldn't answer as he was suddenly surrounded by several medical officers. He nodded towards you as you picked your rifle back up and started to go join the other members of the Third Division. The battle wasn't over just yet as you needed to look for more survivors. But you felt the burden lift from your shoulders knowing that the man you loved was going to be okay and was in capable hands. The fight with the kaiju continued on but if you stayed by Hoshiro's side you felt like you both could make the world a better place together.

[liliacamethyst]

Playtime with Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

summary: Miguel begging you to cum. That's it. That's the plot.

warnings: dom/sub, edging, blowjob, smut, 18+ content

a/n: Hey everyone, apologies for my recent absence, I've been buried in exam prep. But don't worry, the 4th part of the web series is on its way soon! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this little story I've had tucked away in my drafts. Remember to look after yourselves and I'll be back before you know it with even more requests and Miguel fics. Love you all and don't forget to stay hydrated!

“Care to play a game?” you ask, as you take steps closer to him. You can see his pride wrestling with his intrigue. “What’s the game?” he asks. You smile wide at him and without warning, you shoot a string of web that wraps around him.

“Simple,” you say, “You have to stay still while I…” you lean in and plant a soft kiss on his cheek, then his jawline down to his throat. His eyes widen.

Miguel tries to hide his delight. “Is that all?” he feigns nonchalance.

“Oh no,” you tease, “there’s more.” You lean in again and brush your lips against his, only to pull away at the last second. The tension between you both is electric.

You wrap more webbing around him, leaving him barely able to move. “Aren’t you going to ask nicely to be set free?” you ask with a smirk.

His pride is legendary, but so is his wit. “No. Yo no ruego." (I don't beg.)"he retorts. He squirms lightly but his face is stoic as ever.

You lean in, your lips a breath away from his, and whisper, “We'll see about that.”

With a flicker in your eyes, you suddenly whip out a sharp nail file and make a quick, precise cut on the crotch of Miguel's suit, freeing his big member. The blue fabric splits apart, revealing his already hard cock.

 You gently glide your finger down the exposed area, and then look up at him with an innocent smile. Despite the unexpected action, Miguel remains unfazed, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. “ You just had to ask, mi amor" he quips, his voice laced with humor.

A chuckle escapes your lips. "I'm just checking for hidden weapons, Spider. You never know with you." You kneel down, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

You delicately trail your tongue up and down his length, punctuating your actions with playful, kittenish licks on his leaking tip. When you decide that you've teased him enough, you take his entire manhood into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing.

You can sense his intense, half-lidded gaze on you, accompanied by a soft growl escaping his lips.

He looks down at you, his chest heaving, sweat dripping off his brow.

With every head bob, he grunts louder, his teeth gritted and sweat dripping down his face.

“Mierda, mi sol. I’m close.” You could tell, his balls are tightening in your hand and his moans are growing louder, that was always his tell. But then without a warning and with one final plop you release him from your mouth. 

His eyes shoot open, the intense concentration breaking momentarily for a glare. “What the hell. What do you think you’re doing, Sunny?” his voice is strained, he thrusts his hips forward to get even a tiny bit of friction. Meanwhile, you are already gracefully risen to your feet and slowly lean closer, your breath grazing his ear. "Beg for it," you whisper. Miguel appears perplexed for a fleeting moment, stuttering, “I... I...”

Then, gathering himself, his voice becomes firm as he declares, “I do not beg.”

You grab his balls gently with one hand, while with the other, you tenderly and painfully slowly trace your fingers down his length. In response, a deep, primal growl escapes his throat.

With a raised eyebrow and a faint, teasing smirk, you inquire, "Huh? What was that?"

He seems to be in an internal struggle, trying desperately to retain control. His voice comes out as a soft whisper, “Please, let me cum.”

But your playful side is not quite satisfied. You continue your feathery caresses near his overstimulated tip, replying, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

He makes an attempt to jerk his hips forward, but you assertively tighten your hold. A resigned look crosses his face before he finally capitulates. “Alright, you fucking win. Please, mi sol, please make me cum?” 

At this, you offer a wink of approval and once again take your place kneeling in front of him. “Now was that so hard, Spider-boy?”

[gor3-hound]

TALK TOO MUCH - WELT YANG

ft. welt yang x fem!reader

a/n: was really struggling with this and hate it - want to preface it by saying this is unfinished. it's just a first draft, but people (person) still wanted me to post it, even if i'm not gonna end up fully finishing it :/ the ending is rushed, but it technically does have an end. hope you like it regardless. title from coin song of the same name

cw: 18+ content, welt rambling, hand holding, kissing, just really fluffy smut tbh, welt is a lil subby and shy, age gap, p in v, creampie

word count: 1.4k words

You certainly were a curious thing. Welt had gotten used to those on the Astral Express treating him as their personal encyclopedia, although he hadn't quite expected you to be so adamant to get him to info dump on every little thing once you'd discovered it - not that he didn't like it. He did pride himself on his intelligence, and there were much worse ways to spend his time than having a nice conversation with someone like you, even if you're the only one that can make his heart race when you called him Mr. Yang.

He's not surprised at all when he hears a knock on his door at night. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up and gazes towards the entrance of his room, spotting you slowly opening it, looking all sheepish as you slide your way into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"Ah, good evening. Isn't it a bit late for you to expect me to go on one of my tangents?" He asks, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Sorry, I just couldn't sleep. I thought maybe you could talk to me about something for a while? If you don't mind, of course.” You say softly, offering him a small smile as you take a step further into his room, hoping he agrees.

"Oh, you want me to start blathering, hm?" He replies, meeting your gaze and smiling in return. He pats the spot on the bed next to him, inviting you over to sit. You offer your thanks as you take a seat, leaning back against the headboard. “Well. If you're seeking a calming influence, then I suppose you've come to the right place." 

You smile at his words, tilting your head to look at him as you settle comfortably on the bed. "Your blathering just so happens to be my favorite thing to listen to.”

Welt raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing slightly as you admit that you really do like listening to him ramble on. You always bring a feeling of warmth in his chest that he has not felt in a long while. Your company is certainly becoming one of his favorite things on the express.

"And here I thought you were just humoring me to keep me from being lonely." He says, but a smile curls the corner of his mouth regardless. "You're in luck, though. I'll chat your ear off for as long as you need me to.”

And so he does. He starts talking about any topics that come to mind, getting lost in his thoughts as he does so. He's not sure how long he's talking for, but you haven't stopped him yet, so he can only hope he isn't bothering you.

“The starskiffs of the Cloud Knights would head to planets that went out of contact to seek information, while the Xianzhou Ten-Lords Commission remains-”  Welt trails off as he feels your head loll against his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. The smile hasn't left his face the entire time, but it only grows at the sight of you lying against his shoulders, eyes half-shut. His hand moves to the back of your head to keep you secure, his thumb gently moving back and forth. “I thought you couldn't sleep, dear. Are my words really so boring to you?”

You shake your head softly, peering up at him through your lashes as he speaks. Your expression is soft, lingering on his eyes for a moment before they drop down to his lips, just for a second. “You're not boring. Not at all. You just make me feel comfortable. Relaxed.” 

He nods softly, but he's barely focusing on your words. He can hardly stand being this close to you, and it was impossible to ignore the way your gaze settled on his mouth, even if only for a moment. He wanted you so, so badly.

He's about to open his mouth to say something, anything to distract him enough to stop him from doing anything stupid, until you beat him to it. “I want to kiss you. Please, can I?”

The mere thought of it sends his heart pounding so fast it hurts. He's so old, at least, far older than you. You're still so young, so full of life - how could he expect he'd ever have a chance with you?

Welt nods, his eyes closing momentarily. "Please, be gentle. It... it has been a long time." With his words spoken, he brings his lips to meet yours.

Your lips eagerly meet his once your eyes have fluttered shut, greedily taking in everything he's giving you. His lips are just as soft as you'd imagined, pressing firmly against yours. A small noise escapes him when you cup his cheek, drawing him further towards you.

He leans into the kiss, his hands squeezing you tighter. His lips are warm and gentle, his tongue peeking out gently to prod at your lips until you part them, before it carefully slides into your mouth. His free hand trails down your back to your ass, squeezing it lightly as he deepens the kiss once more, tugging you onto his lap. 

“Welt…” You murmur between kisses, brushing his bangs back with your free hand as you straddle him, pressing your body against his. Welt. Not Mr. Yang. The sound of that has him smiling into the kiss, tugging you a little closer. 

He's still smiling when you pull away from the kiss, the corner of his eyes crinkling as warmth floods his features. Your warm body pressed against his is enough to have him craving more, his heart pounding against his chest. 

“I… I want you. Please.” You breathe out, resting your forehead against his, your thumbs grazing his cheekbones. You slowly roll your hips, rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. You can't help but feel a surge of pride as it instantly fills out, causing Welt to let out an almost pained groan.

"Please, my dear..." He starts, his voice soft and tender, but hoarse with arousal. "Do be patient with me, alright? I... I do not want to disappoint you.”

“You couldn't disappoint me. God, I've wanted you for so long. Wasn't it obvious?” You breathe out, lips pressing against his jaw over and over again.  His body is now trembling in your hands, your lips sending his senses into overload. His groan deepens, and he lets out the subtlest of moans when your hips roll to grind down on his lap.

"I-I didn't know that at all..." His breathing is short and shallow now, every moment feeling like the first time you've kissed him. "Who would've known that I'd be so popular with you?”

“I'll be careful, okay?” You murmur against the skin of his neck, nipping and licking at the skin as you paw desperately at his clothes, tugging them off until you're both laid bare on his bed. His pale skin is marred with scars, his muscles slightly toned but covered by a soft layer of flesh.

You sink down slowly onto his length, taking him inch by inch. Welt lets out an involuntary gasp, his hips twitching towards you instinctively to try and drive himself further into your wet cunt. His hand reaches out to grab yours, squeezing it tightly as you begin to build a steady rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your free hand shifts to thread through his hair, yanking gently on the strands.

“I care for you, ah, very deeply, you know?” He said through gritted teeth, his breath coming out in short pants. It had been far too long, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to stave off his orgasm anymore. “I want… I want to make you feel good, too.”

He does his best to ignore the tightening of his stomach, whimpering softly as he feels the coil snap, flooding you with rope after rope of his cum. His free hand presses against your mound, his thumb hastily swiping back and forth over your clit until you're cumming, clenching around his over-sensitive cock until he's gasping your name.

It takes a moment for him to calm down, to catch his breath - but when he does, he's beaming at you, a shimmer in his eyes that he'd long lost returning. “That was perfect, my dear. You're perfect.”

[reveluving]

if the skirt fits ; andy barber x reader

summary: Andy finds a little secret of yours.

warnings: heavily implied s~mut; costume kink (minors DNI!), familial fluff & mild humour!

a/n: you don't know how happy I am for finally sharing this piece with y'all, considering how it has been collecting dust in my drafts since LAST YEAR, but here it is; one of my earliest ideas for the series! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” ;

"You could dress up as Jason?" You suggested what might’ve been the seventh costume idea since the drive home from dinner at the Thai restaurant nearby. 

"Done that." Jacob replied as he leaned forward from his seat to talk to you and his father.

"Spiderman?" 

"I feel like everyone's dressing up as Spiderman this year." 

"But not everyone's going to dress up as the same one." You had a point, considering how you and his dad were the first victims of his Spiderverse fixation since the second movie was released, so you knew what you were talking about.

"I guess,” Jacob thought for a moment before falling back in his seat, taking your idea into consideration, “I guess I just want something… different." 

"If you want different, then we could get you one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes on the internet." Andy held a playful look even as his eyes remained on the road.

"Very funny, dad." His son grumbled, despite fighting back his own smile.

"Aw, cheer up, Jake. You've got time." You reassured him. 

“Yeah… And I’m not too worried. The store next to Aunt Sarah’s bakery got some cool stuff when I bought last year’s costume,” Jacob mused before asking you, "What about you, mom? Have you thought of a costume yet?" 

Ah, mom. Even after all this time, you and Andy will never get tired of him calling you that.

"Mmm, not yet. But when I do, I'll make sure you're the first to know." You and Jacob shared a smile in the rear-view mirror, only to be interrupted by Andy clearing his throat.

"Uh, you're gonna tell him first and not me?" He cocked his head, feigning disbelief.

"Of course. You lost that privilege when you suggested Jake the dinosaur costume." You and Jacob laughed as Andy dramatically groaned, telling you ‘I didn’t mean it’ in an angsty teenager tone.

"I am not dressing up Ken." Andy answered, removing his watch and leaving it on the vanity table.

"Oh, c'mon, Cowboy Barber has a nice ring to it." You said with a lilt. 

"And where exactly am I going to find a Western shirt in my size?" He quirked an eyebrow at you.

"We could always ask the Flags. Her husband might have one hidden somewhere."

"Just because we've seen him with a cowboy hat last Halloween?" He remembered seeing him wearing one during the community party at the park.

"You'd never know. Barbie and Ken are safer than your recommendation." You opened the closet without taking your accusatory eyes off him.

"What's wrong with a devil and an angel?" 

"Andy." Surely he could tell how ridiculous he sounded. 

"It's… easy…? And you'd look really good in it." He tried to persuade you, standing next to you.

"At a party full of kids?" You weren't sure how the parents that were a little more… conservative would feel about their kids' teacher dressing up like that.

"I didn't say it was for Wilson's party. It's for our afterparty," He wiggled his brows, "Just you and me while Jake stays over at the Wilson's." 

You snorted. How cheesy of him.

"Wilson's party first, then whatever you want after," You turned back to the hanging clothes, "And besides, you should be the devil, not me." 

That wasn't a no.

"You know what," He pursed his lips, already considering your idea—especially with the black suit he knew you'd melt over, plus a red tie before dodging the swat of your hand with a laugh. Just then, he noticed you'd been searching for something for a while, unbuttoning his cuffs and folding his sleeves before asking, “Need some help?”

“I can’t find my panties. The baby blue ones.” You frowned.

“The one with the lace?” He asked, prompting you to nod, “I mean, as much as I love seeing you in those, you know I don’t mind you without any in the first place.”

“Nice try, Barber," You narrowed your eyes at him, gesturing to the drawers in front of him before you rummaged through the pile of folded clothes on the bottom rack, “Help me search the drawers, please.”

He did as he was told, looking through the first stack before moving on to the next.

There was little progress in your searches but your curiosity was only piqued when out of the corner of your eye, Andy was looking closely at something.

“Did you find it?”

He took a quick breath before answering, “No, but I did find something better.” 

You furrowed your brows, standing up to ask what he meant by that until you caught sight of the familiar skirt he held.

Plaid, grey and extremely short.

Uh oh.

You clasped your hands together in front of your tummy as you stared at the microskirt with wide eyes. You were even failing to notice him slowly breaking into a smirk. He didn’t stop there, reaching into the drawer he was looking into with his other hand to take out the matching tie. Your lips parted, darting your eyes between the article of clothing and the smug look on his face.

“I can explain,” You finally spoke up, your voice softer than you hoped for.

“Please, do,” He held the ends of the untied tie with both hands, “Because I’m pretty sure these are too small to be mine.”

Oh, he was going to have some fun with this.

“Well, it’s, y’know,” You moved your hands around, only to silently plea for him to understand without having you say it, “Andy, c’mon. You know what it is.”

It wasn’t enough for him, though, raising his brows and encouraging you to continue. 

He was clearly enjoying this. A whole lot. 

Unbelievable.

“It’s my old costume.”

He hummed, appraising the garment as he immediately imagined what you would look like in it, “So my pretty girl has a dirty secret of her own. Did you break any necks when you pranced around the neighbourhood in this?” 

“In my defence, I only wore that once, when I was in college, so,” You corrected him, recalling the party you attended in your final year. 

“So, you broke college boys’ necks.” 

“I didn’t say that,” You shook your head in amusement, “I just didn’t have the heart to give it away. It was just one of those rare times where I truly enjoyed living in the city.” 

Though the city wasn’t far from Reve Road, and hell, you’ve even thought about moving back once or twice in your earlier days, truthfully, you haven’t been there in ages, and thank goodness, too. What would life be like if you hadn’t stayed, made a name in the peaceful neighbourhood and met the Barbers?

"Do you miss it?" 

"Sometimes," You mustered a small smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes, "But I had my fun. Grew up to be a city girl, earned my degree and let out my ‘wilder’ side a couple of times. But I love it here more, and if I want to keep my job, the last thing my students and my son need to see when they go trick-or-treating is their Literature teacher in this." 

You shared a hearty laugh. Your wonders about who or what you could’ve been if you stayed in the city were nothing more than a mere curiosity, and even then, it hardly mattered to you now.

“Wouldn’t hurt to relive the old days here in our room.” Oh?

"You can't be serious," You chuckled nervously, "It might not even fit." 

You were lying—you barely looked any different from your college years. You just weren’t sure if you were ready to see his reaction over such scandalous attire.

"All the more reason to try it," He replied confidently, closing the gap between the two of you. His voice deepened as he whispered, "C’mon. You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?" 

Like the gentleman he was, he used your weakness against you.

You knew you were done for when you gulped under his intense stare, cocking his head in the bathroom’s direction. 

You snatched the garments out of his grasp, the ‘deathly’ glare on your face contrasted with his conceited one as you obtained the shirt that came with it out of the same drawer. He continued to hold your gaze even as you closed the door.

Once you were alone, you couldn’t help but let out a silent scream.

You were too embarrassed to even face the mirror as you got dressed, not until you slid on the last piece—the skirt before turning around to look at yourself. You could barely acknowledge the coincidence of covering your face with your hands like a bumbling schoolgirl.

Because that was exactly what you looked like.

You remembered washing the set a couple of times after your first and only wear, and even then, you didn’t think the skirt could shrink that little. Your ass was hanging out of the hem, offering an ample peek at the black bikini brief you had taken with you. 

You came out of the bathroom, ignoring the warmth spreading through your body as you were met with Andy sitting at his side of the bed, shamelessly displaying the prominent tent bulging in his pants.

He hummed in approval before beckoning you to his lap, "Come here." 

You kept your gaze on the ground as you walked over to him, standing in between his legs.

"Come here." He repeated, this time, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he tapped his knee.

You let out the softest whimper, your arms encircling his neck before straddling one of his thick thighs. He rested his hands on your hips, only to run them up and down your body, watching your face already contorting between bashfulness and desire.

“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” 

He pulled you closer, bouncing his knee to rub against your clothed sex. Electricity coursed through your body over the not-so-innocent move, your breathing growing heavier by the second as he teased you further.

“But you haven’t answered my question yet. Did they or did they not stare at you when you wore this?”

He rendered you speechless. You were beginning to think your heart might burst out of your chest at any point. 

“I’m sure they did,” A part of him wanted to be annoyed but miffed was a better way to put it. Not at you, though, he could never. You were just trying to have fun and make the most out of what life had to offer. But if he was there to see you in this the first time you had it, likely showing your wilder side, oh, he couldn’t lie and say you wouldn’t catch his eye either. 

“But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” His hands slid past the hem, lifting it for him to drink in the sight of your curves, “It’s just you and me now.”

You dropped your head on his shoulder, hoping to stifle the moan that threatened to slip past your lips.

“Just imagine me bending you over the bed so I can get a peak of what’s mine underneath,” He sighed dreamily, smiling when your ass jiggled as he grabbed at and squeezed them, “Or should I throw you on the bed and have you on your knees?”

You didn’t answer, too focused on the way he groped your body until you jumped at the resounding crack and the sting that came with it on your left cheek.

"Does it come with thigh highs?" He asked ever so casually as if he wasn’t straining to have you just as much as you were him.

"I-It did, but… I kinda lost it." 

"That's fine. I can always get you a new one," He nosed your jaw, "In fact, I'll buy you more than just a pair. Maybe match some with your panties." 

You mewled, raising your head and granting him access to your neck. 

“You'd do everything your favourite professor tells you to do, wouldn’t you?” 

Fuck.

“Andy, I–” You nearly called him Professor Barber when the sounds of knocking on your door caused you and your husband to freeze up.

"Mom, dad,” It was Jacob, “I think Beemo's been collecting… socks under the couch?" 

Like a fish out of water, your mind was too blank to respond or even acknowledge the question. Thankfully, Andy was able to do it for you, “We’ll be right there!”

The two of you waited until his footsteps receded before you were able to let out a sigh of relief. Andy, on the other hand, had the audacity to chuckle at you. There was no reason for you to worry about scarring Jacob since Andy had already locked the door.

“Very funny.” You murmured sarcastically, moving off him and loosening the tie, hoping to ignore the ache in between your legs for the time being.

“Hilarious,” He cockily added, standing up with an almost pained groan. He stood behind you before wrapping his arms around your waist, “But this isn’t over.”

You stopped.

“I meant what I said about buying you thigh highs with it. Or better yet, some fishnets because my wife’s not so innocent after all.”

Despite getting cockblocked, he was immensely satisfied to see you shiver.

‘Beemo, are you collecting underwear too?’ You heard Jacob ask the cat incredulously, only for a ‘wait!’, followed by his footsteps going down the stairs, probably chasing the feline with whoever’s briefs or undies he had in his mouth. You could only hope it wasn’t yours.

“And, that’s our cue,” His shoulders slumped, only to growl in your ear, “Wear this for me tomorrow after dinner.” 

He then released you with a big smooch on your cheek, exiting the room to find his son, but not before winking at you.

Leaving you to wonder on your own if he’d throw you on the bed or have you on his lap tomorrow.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: now is a good time to say; no, I have yet to come back to the series, but I was too stoked about this event and thought 'hey, this should be the best time!'

» consider it as a mini compensation! but I do want to thank you for still sticking around, just know 'future mrs barber' is nowhere near discontinuing! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[smokesandsonatas]

beelzebub as a dad please!

-Hello! I accidentally deleted the other request like this, when I was trying to combine this and the other one. It's a Papa Beelzebub ask too and his daughter would be like Kanao from Demon Slayer. I'm sorry, and I do want to recover the deleted draft but I don't think Tumblr allows that. Sad. I also tried to imagine Beelzebub's daughter. I created the image. Her name is up to interpretation. -

+++

The first time he had seen the girl, she was staring into nothingness. Her clothes are torn, she's covered in grime, and her bones are peeking through her skin. Blank, big eyes slowly turned to him when Beelzebub walked to her side.

The demon lord raked his eyes to the ravaged town in from of him. Smoke from the house fire is high up in the air. Bodies lay on the floor, and the smell of blood circles the destroyed town.

Oddly enough, Beelzebub felt...pity for the poor girl. And then he said-

"Come with me."

And the little girl did.

+++

The Lord of the Flies, and the Young Lady of the Flies.

The name itself sounds scary. Sending fear to whoever hears it.

Everyone said his daughter's existence is a supernatural feat in itself. When Beelzebub's love reaches its peak, he would destroy all he loves. Would that mean that Beelzebub does not love his daughter? No, his love for his daughter remains there. It's just Beelzebub has to monitor himself to not go overboard.

Buddha stares at the girl in front of him. Long dark hair covers half of her face. She wears a dress in the color of black. Gothic, it reminds him of the Western people mourning, from one of his travels.

"Definitely got that from Beelzebub," Buddha mumbled to himself. The little girl is an enigma and the only one who has lived, oddly enough, to stay by the demon god's side.

Although unnerved, Buddha smiled, "Hello, I'm Buddha. Little girl, is your dad not here? I need to talk to him about matters involving the underworld."

The little girl just stared at him. Buddha frowned, just how on earth is Beelzebub raising a child?

+++

"Papa..."

Buddha's eyes doubled their size, goodness did the child just speak?

"...is busy in his office," was all she said.

Buddha let out an "Oh, all right." He smiled at her, baring his fangs, "I'll just wait here, tell your dad he-"

"Daughter there you are."

Beelzebub walks to the little girl, gently touching her hair as he looks at her fondly.

Buddha crunched his eyebrows. From the way they dress, they're similar. Their attitudes were almost similar. He narrowed his eyes, observing their faces.

They even look the same!

Is Beelzebub sure this girl is not his biological child?

"Don't hang out with dangerous gods, you might get yourself hurt."

Buddha raised his eyebrow, ready to retaliate.

"I'm not a dangerous god-"

"Don't hang out with gods like Buddha either. You never know what they will do to you. Always be on guard. If you need help, my daughter, call me."

Before Buddha can even reply to Beelzebub's unwanted opinions, both he and his child are gone. Beelzebub did not even give him a courtesy greeting.

"Huh," Buddha scratched his chin, "why does this feel familiar."

+++

Beelzebub is working in his lab as his daughter read books. The silence is enough to let him work in comfort.

Besides they've always been like this, basking silently in each other's presence. Ah, Beelzebub must control his love lest he kill the young lady of the flies.

"Papa," the little girl said. "Look," she held up the book, The Adventures of Mr. B! Then pointed to the protagonist smiling triumphantly, "This character looks like Mr. Buddha."

Beelzebub blinked and went to his daughter's side. Hmmm, the character resembles him. It does look like Buddha, the bright, shining, and happy-go-lucky god.

For some reason, the lord of the Flies doesn't like the feeling of uneasiness bubbling through him. He doesn't like how Buddha is being all his happy self around his daughter, doesn't like his presence, and he doesn't like the way the book his daughter is reading is about heroes based on Buddha's image.

Beelzebub frowned.

He needs to throw the book out.

[sleepyboywrites]

@justkeepscrollingscrolling

Hey all! In case you missed my last post Tumblr updates ruined my life and asks no longer allow you to save as drafts and then update them. Since I normally don't write all in one session I have quite a few in my drafts currently that I have to get creative in actually answering so that you all still get notified when I get around to your asks. Moving forward I'll just answer in one go but for older asks (ones before I noticed/before the update) will be answered like this! Also I haven't written in a while so I apologize if it's shit.

Save a horse ride a cowboy

Masky knew you were raised on a farm. His favorite, albeit slightly teasing pet name for you was 'Cowboy' or 'Farm hand'. He's seen you carry corpses of fully grown men in one arm since joining the proxies. He had confronted you on multiple occasions how and why and you had replied. "I've hauled hay when our tractor broke and carried a newborn filly to the truck to rush to the vet after she wasn't walkin'. I can hold my own Darlin'." And he had been oh so kind to remind you who you belonged to for your lip and sweet farm boy ways. Yet he still sometimes underestimates your strength and in all honesty it's your own fault.

Play fighting and rough housing was nothing at all new. Mostly because Masky suffers from cuteness aggression and you, farm boy, are sturdy enough to handle it as well as dish it out. You two did it so often that if you didn't people assumed you were fighting fighting. On top of this you had a bad habit of letting Masky win because he's just so cute all smug on victory and everyone likes to be shoved into the couch face first by their partner sometimes cause being manhandled is just as fun as manhandling.

That is until one day, a really busy one, you didn't really have the time nor energy to let him win.

Masky had been extra annoying today. Poking and proding and shoving and basically all over you. Normally no complaints whatsoever but you had a shit ton you needed to get done. The list of cleanup tasks you were assigned today was two pages long and with your boyfriend attacking you at every turn in some form of cuteness aggression taking over and possessing him the second he saw your face, you getting fuck all done. Cleanup from the cannibals of the mansion plus the targets of the main proxies (because apparently scrubbing the remains of EJ's lunch off of the kitchen walls for three hours wasn't enough to deal with) had made for an unusually large amount of work for the sole cleanup crew member, you, and you were over it. So as Masky tried to tackle you in greeting for the fifth time today hoping to instigate you to wrestle him and to in turn win and coerce you to get a little 'closer', you just held your ground picked up the corpse in one arm, pried his arms off with a "Hold on Darlin' I have work to finish and I'm running behind. Later." And walked away.

Masky had stood there for a moment with a confused look on his face before the realization struck and he remembered his view of you and your 'softness' was heavily skewed. But once the shock disappears he became determined to genuinely tackle you. Stalking, lurking, and hunting you as you attempted to finish your work as Cleanup. He had proven himself to be quite the pain in your ass as you avoided his attacks and eventually lost him all together getting to finish the long list of tasks you had been assigned. You took a shower changed clothes and were scrolling on your phone on the couch when you finally sensed him again.

His vaguely pissed off and irked in general aura slowly approaching you from behind. You pretended not to notice that he's approaching and place your arms over his as he hugs you, clearly mopey, from behind. "Hm... So we're doing angry cuddles now, are we love?"

Masky didn't reply shoving his face into your neck, you could feel his intrusive thoughts to bite you, his hesitation to do so. Masky begins walking away from you and into the kitchen.

Without warning you chase after him and pick him up as he shouts and squirms playfully trying to escape your grasp and flip the script, "Look, I'm sorry I was avoidin' you, 'm not angry at you darlin, I was just overbooked on what needed done. Now quit your moping." You explained as you threw and pinned him to the couch. Masky going fully silent and still as you pin him down, giving you an odd territorial and excited look. "What?" You ask as he stares up at you, an eyebrow raised.

"Save a horse..." He replied looking you up and down. As it slowly processes in your head what he's referring to and you scoff and chuckle as you shake your head.

[sempsimps]

cheslock / reader with a crush

little idea i had a while ago, where you struggle with playing piano, and cheslock comes and helps before leaving again, and you get quite confused, i guess.

it was drudge time, i always finished my work beforehand, so i spent my time practising this song that i was finding difficult, but once fully played, it sounded amazing. so i sat in the music room, the annoying piece of scripture in front of me as i awkwardly stretched my fingers, trying to figure out this one note. It never sounded quite right. in frustration, i slammed my hands down on the keys and let out a small sigh, lowering my head onto the instrument, which it let out a sad strangled cry from my face being on it.

"oi get off of 'er"

my head shot up, and so did the keys as i looked towards the voice in fear. i instantly noticed that it was the purple house prefect, and i panicked in my reply.

"i am so sorry! im just getting really frustrated...."

"Well, that's great and all, but don't take it out on Estie."

"Estie? t-the piano you named it?"

"so what if i did?"

"Sorry, uh, just surprised"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, what do you need help on anyway?"

"Oh, uhhh, just this one note I'm struggling with, I don't get how my hands could possibly move over to play this at the same time, and it sounds funky"

"Oh, thays easy"

Chelock walked over swiftly and moved to lean over my shoulder, letting a small hum out while reading the sheet music, giving another hum before his hand moved above mine the remaining one shifted my hand over one key. It was so simple, and he was only doing a small favour, but his body felt too hot against mine, I felt my face flush in heat at the closeness. 'no no no don't think like that he is a prefect, and he probably doesn't even have time for this, let alone anymore.' his voice snapped me out of my trance.

"See if you just move that over here, and it's immediately better"

I was slightly frozen, so my hand movement was still stiff, but yeah, it was way easier to play. a smile made its way across my face, but it dipped as I felt the prefect move.

"Alright, well, I'm glade I helped and all that. but don't hurt Estie, or I'll give ya a Y got it?"

"Right, got it, sorry, again"

And just like that, he left. my words fell on deaf ears at that point. the lingering touches on my hands stayed for what felt like an eternity, and my face was warm. but I shake it off and start to play this song again with the advice, which sounds a lot better. 'god, he's good with his hands. Wait, hold on-' I shake my head to clear the thoughts. But my mind did wander to him at lunch later that day 'I wonder if he would - no, never mind, it's stupid'.

Aaaaaaaaaa I don't know how to end shit so here I guess anyway hope that was okay a little short but it gets me back into the swing of writing and I need to get more emo twink content out I have a lot in drafts almost ready to go so this is just that start i promise and i have lots of Gregory becuse i am a simp for that man

[helloalycia]

watching TV [one] // kate bishop

summary: everything seems like it's going perfectly in your life – your girlfriend, your best friend, your job – until it's not. After your girlfriend breaks up with you so suddenly, you're left trying to understand what the problem was, but Kate is there to make it all better.

warning/s: mention of a breakup, mild violence and injury.

author’s note: i’ve literally had this in my drafts for so long and finally managed to finish it. It’s based off/inspired by the song ‘Watching TV’ by Sara Kays – feel free to listen to it whilst you read (I’ve popped the song below). Hope you enjoy!

two / three / masterlist / wattpad

"Are you really just going to sit here and keep buying coffee, Kate?" I ask my very determined best friend with amusement.

"Well, I got told off last time for staying all day and not buying more than one drink, so yeah," she replies like it's obvious. "And I don't want you to get fired because of it, so duh. I'd buy the whole menu if it meant we could hang out, Y/N."

I roll my eyes, feeling my smile widen at how cute she could be sometimes. I worked in a coffee shop and, since graduating, I'd been increasing my hours to pay rent which meant I was spending less time with Kate than usual. So, naturally, her solution was to hang out with me at work.

"You're cute, I'll give you that," I say, shooting her an appreciative look, before setting her third cup of coffee down before her. "Please don't have a caffeine overdose for my sake though."

She grabs my hand and puts it on her chest. "You feel that? It's a little too late."

I laugh when I feel the faint thrumming of her heart in her chest, faster than it should be. "Wow. I'm definitely cutting you off now."

"The things we do for love." She flashes me a grin and I shake my head with dismay.

Before I can think to say anything else, I glance behind her and my smile widens when I spot my girlfriend entering through the front door. She looks around, mirroring my smile when she spots me, too.

"Hannah, what are you doing here?" I ask with surprise.

She leans forward to kiss my cheek, making me grow warm at the contact. "I was running some errands and thought I'd stop by. Also just wanted to double check we were still on for tonight."

"Of course we are. I'm looking forward to it. Already got the snacks in and the films ready to go," I answer excitedly, meeting her brown eyes.

We'd planned for her to stay over at mine tonight and have a movie night just because, and to say I was looking forward to it was an understatement.

"Kate, hey, how are you?" Hannah asks politely, noticing her presence before us.

Kate's smile fades slightly and I can tell she's trying to remain civil. "Hey, Hannah... I'm good. And you?"

Hannah gives her a smile. "Doing great..."

It gets awkwardly quiet and I hate that it has to be like this. Hannah and I have been dating for about a year now, but her and Kate have never really gotten along. Or rather, there's just an awkwardness between them that never disappeared with time like I wanted. They both meant a lot to me and so made the effort with one another for my sake, but it's clear they wouldn't choose to converse if they could. I've tried talking to Kate about it, but she claims everything is fine. Same with Hannah. So, I just got used to it.

"Right, well I should get back to work," I break the silence with a small smile, looking between them. "Hannah, c'mon, I'll take your order. And Kate." I give her a warning look. "Last coffee. I mean it."

Her sincerity returns as she challenges my stare. "We'll see."

I scoff gently, leaving her to it as I return to my position at the till. Kate never listens, what can I say? But I won't lie – I love having her around.

As planned, Hannah stays over that same evening, watching films with me and eating way too much junk food to be considered healthy. But it's fun and I have never felt more relaxed, not unless I'm by myself or with Kate.

She stays overnight, sharing bed with me and cuddling to no ends, before I make us both a hearty breakfast and we reside on the couch to watch some midday TV together. Maybe the normalcy of it all is what throws me off – bad things shouldn't happen when everything feels normal. That's the whole point of something being normal, it's not bad. And yet...

"Y/N, I need to tell you something."

I hum in response, not really paying attention as I watch the telly. "Go for it."

Hannah hesitates. "I'm serious."

I furrow my brows slightly, glancing over at her at the change of her voice. "What is it?" When I notice the guilt in her expression, I straighten up and mute the TV, giving her all of my attention. Clearly something is bothering her. "Hey, Hannah, what is it? What's wrong?"

When I grab her hand, hoping to provide some comfort for whatever is bothering her, she pulls hers away.

"I'm breaking up with you."

I blink, taken aback by her bluntness. "You're– you– what?"

It doesn't seem plausible, what she said. Is this a stupid joke? Because it's not funny.

She chews on the inside of her cheek, eyes avoiding mine, and the longer she's quiet, the more my fear builds up that she's being serious.

"I didn't know how else to say it," she says quietly. "But I'm breaking up with you."

It's as if her words aren't quite sinking in because they just don't make sense. Breaking up? We're literally watching TV – how can she be breaking up with me?

"I don't understand," I say slowly, before attempting to reach over for her hand. A strike of hurt passes through me when she yanks her hand away further. "I need you to explain. To talk to me. I'm– what?"

She shakes her head slowly, standing up. I follow her with my eyes, trying to hide the way my breathing is becoming quicker, panicked, worried.

"I can't do this anymore," she says awkwardly, running a hand through her hair. "That's all."

Standing up, I try to step closer to her, unable to acknowledge the truth of the matter which is that she doesn't want to be near me. But how? Why? We were cuddling last night and now she suddenly can't stand me? What?

"Hannah, please give me more than that," I say with a teary smile, confused. "How can you suddenly want to break up? What's going on?"

She clenches her jaw, finally risking a glance my way, and it's like I'm staring at a completely different person. Her eyes are void of love or adoration or anything I feel for her. Has it been like that for a while? Have I never noticed?

"I'm sorry, Y/N," she says, and she sounds anything but, making my heart ache. "I should go."

There are no words to describe the utter disbelief I feel at watching grab her shoes, pulling them onto her feet. She's leaving? That's it? What?

"Wait a minute, Hannah," I say quickly, snapping back into action and following after her. "You're breaking up with me? Just like that? How can you–? I don't understand–"

"I don't love you anymore!" she snaps, making me jump. She swallows hard, exhaling and looking my way with guilty eyes. "I've been trying to tell you for a while now. It just never felt like the right time."

My throat closes up as she stares at me with pity. Shameful warmth creeps onto my cheeks. She doesn't love me anymore?

"That's all," she finishes softly, like it's not a big deal, like my heart isn't shattering at every word she speaks.

"You don't... why would... you..." I swallow thickly, trying to stop my voice from shaking so much. It doesn't help that she's staring at me with pitiful eyes. "What did I do?"

She sighs, rubbing her forehead with her forefinger and thumb. "Nothing. I just... I don't love you anymore."

My vision blurs with tears as I look to the floor, trying to figure out what that means. How can she not love me anymore? We've been fine. Nothing has gotten between us, we literally just hung out all evening. I'm still in love with her – she's my girlfriend. How can she decide she wants to leave all of a sudden?

"I'm sorry," she says once more, but it's mere background noise to my jumbled thoughts. Her hand ghosts my wrist, an apologetic squeeze, before I hear her leaving my apartment.

So, that's it? She leaves? And I'm alone? No explanation, no reason, just that she isn't in love with me anymore?

What?

Before the initial hurt can take over, I'm still very much confused. I try to call her, needing more of an explanation then a mere 'I don't love you anymore'. We've been together for a year – how can she just want to throw that all away? Doesn't she owe me more than a blunt breakup?

When she ignores my calls and texts, merely sending a 'l have nothing more to say, Y/N' text with finality, I realise she's dead serious. This isn't an elaborate prank, nor did she care enough to give me more than what she did. It's over. And I'm just supposed to accept that.

I've had breakups before. One where I've been the dumper, and another where I've been the dumped. Neither have hurt as much as this. I expected those, there were signs there. Lack of communication, the feeling like we were drifting apart, the bickering... it was obvious when my previous relationships were coming to an end. But this one came out of nowhere. I had no chance to prepare, to tell myself to stop loving her back.

I shouldn't spend my time wondering why, but it's all that's on my mind. If I'm not crying in my room, missing someone who doesn't want me anymore, then I'm wondering: why? What was the reason? She doesn't love me anymore, but there has to be a reason why.

Something about me isn't good enough for her. Something about me is so undesirable that she stopped loving me. What? Was it that time I showed up late to dinner and left her waiting fifteen minutes? Was it that time I disagreed with the way she spoke to her mum and we argued briefly about it afterwards?

It's so easy to reflect on every disagreement, every minor argument, every time I could have pissed her off... one of those times must have been it for her. The reason she called it quits.

What is it?

As if getting broken up with isn't embarrassing enough, it had to be by the girl my best friend never approved of. Such a cliché, right? That should have been an instant red flag, the girlfriend not being approved by the best friend. And yet I still went for it.

The last thing I want is for Kate to find out, for her to think that she was right. She'd never say it, but just her thinking it would be enough to make me feel even shittier. She'll have to find out eventually, but for now, it's better to keep to myself. Besides, I'm definitely not in the mood to face anybody at the moment, so I try to stick to myself.

Whenever she asks to hang out, I give her some lame excuse why I can't. Half the time it's because I'm actually working, but she'd never know the difference. If I'm not doing that, I spend my time applying for better jobs that actually utilise my degree whilst questioning every aspect of my relationship. How hadn't I seen it coming? Hannah had just woken up one day, looked at me and decided she couldn't love me anymore.

Yeah, it's safe to say I've never felt worse.

Of course, soaking in self-pity doesn't go down so easily when your best friend is as persistent as she is.

I don't know why I expect anything less from Kate, who is the definition of a hyperactive puppy, but I'm still surprised when she visits me at work one afternoon.

"Kate? What are you–? What are you doing here?"

She quirks a brow as she shoots me an amused smile. "Don't act too surprised."

I clear my throat, straightening up. "Sorry, I– sorry, just, what's up? How did you know I was working?"

"We'll, you've only been saying you're busy with work every time I want to hang out with you, so I thought I'd stop by," she says dramatically and with an easygoing smile. "That okay?"

I nod, looking down at the till. "Yeah, of course. Sorry."

She pauses, so I look up to see her humour is gone, replaced with concern. "Hey, are you okay? You seem preoccupied."

I force a smile, not wanting to get into this now and definitely not ready to tell her about the breakup when it's still so fresh. "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry. Just tired from all the shifts, sorry."

She dips her head to find my eyes, her blue ones flickering between mine worriedly. With a low voice, she says, "What's with all the extra shifts? Do you need money? Because you know I'll always help you, Y/N."

I shake my head, widening my smile and hoping it looks genuine. "Kate, I'm fine, don't worry. Now, come on. What can I get you?"

She chews on her lip, no doubt about to retort, but thankfully she decides not to and instead orders her drink. After moving to go get it ready, I sigh inwardly, knowing I need to make more effort with her. She'll definitely suspect something if I keep avoiding her.

It's hard to focus on applying for jobs when you're definitely not in the mood to, but I still force myself to at least dedicate a few hours a day to searching and starting some applications. After all, I don't want to be working at a coffee shop forever.

I'm at home doing just that when Kate messages me, asking if I'm at home. After telling her I am, she invites herself over and I can't exactly stop her, even though I'd rather just be alone, so I tell her okay and throw on a more presentable outfit (AKA putting on pants).

When there's a knock at the door, I roll off my bed and answer it, unable to stop the small smile appearing on my face at the sight of Kate. Even though I haven't been myself lately, she always manages to make everything a little better without even realising.

"Hey," I say, stepping to the side to let her in. "How you doing?"

I notice she's wearing her Avengers sweatshirt and joggers which is just a black outfit with the Avengers logo printed on the corner.

"You been at the Compound?" I ask, closing the door after she steps in.

"Hey, yeah," she starts, sounding a little distracted.

"Oh, cool." I lead her to the couch as I ask, "So, how was training or whatever it is that Avengers do?"

It's supposed to be lighthearted but she doesn't fall into it like she usually does, leaving me curious.

"What?" I ask when she begins to frown at me.

She hesitates, eyes flickering to the spot behind me briefly, before saying, "I bumped into Hannah on the way back to my place before."

And as if somebody flicks a switch, any comfort I feel is immediately gone at the mention of my ex's name. Judging by Kate's face, she knows. And I don't know what's worse – the look she's giving me or the possible thoughts running through her head about me.

"Y/N...," she says gently, stepping forward. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrug indifferently, avoiding her sympathetic stare. "It didn't come up."

Kate raises her brows with slight disbelief. "Y/N."

I put my hands behind my back nonchalantly, trying to hide my fidgeting. "What did she say?" I ask.

She bites her lip, eyes studying me in a concerned way but one that only leaves me embarrassed.

"I was saying hello to her to be polite," she answers reluctantly. "And then I asked about you, if you were okay because you've been distracted lately and I thought she might know more than I do. But then she got all awkward and said she wouldn't know. So, obviously, I said what? And she–" She frowns. "She said she broke up with you like three weeks ago."

I close my eyes, wincing with embarrassment. She said that? If there was any way I wanted Kate to find out, this was the last.

"Y/N, what the hell?" Kate says, making me open my eyes to see her confusion. "What happened?"

I push my hair from my eyes and try to remain calm, but the feelings are bubbling away on the surface again and I begin to feel uncomfortable. "It's not a big deal. It was just a breakup. I should have known it wouldn't work out."

Should I have?

"What was the reason?" she asks carefully, and I hate that I can't answer that because I don't know. That's what hurts the most.

How do I explain to Kate that something about me wasn't enough for Hannah to love so she left me instead?

"Please can we just forget about it?" I plead quietly, risking a glance in Kate's direction. "I know this is the part where you say 'I told you so', but I'm–"

"Hey, no, stop it," she cuts me off, resting her hand on my shoulder and dipping her head to meet my gaze. "That's not even a thought of mine right now. I'm just worried about you... how are you?"

I flash her a forced smile, nodding. "I'm fine, Kate, see?"

It's a terrible attempt to convince her, but it's easier than telling her exactly how I'm feeling. I hope she doesn't push it, but she does one better and pulls me in for a hug. I didn't realise how much I needed it until she's wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me tight and providing a warmth I so dearly missed. I relax at the feeling, tucking my head into her shoulder and revelling in her care.

"Seriously, what happened?" she asks softly.

I don't let go of her, not yet. But she deserves an answer. And maybe I'm sick of bottling it all up.

"I don't know," I admit quietly, voice breaking embarrassingly enough.

She's patient, letting me hold her for a moment longer as I gather the courage to face her. It's not about her – Kate and I are close enough for me to tell her my deepest, darkest secrets. It's more about how embarrassing it is to be in this situation in the first place.

"She just broke up with me," I finally speak once I pull away from Kate's embrace. Her blue eyes watch me, hanging onto my every word, and it feels good to say it aloud even though my heart still breaks reliving it. "There wasn't any warning. And when I asked her why, she said– she said she didn't love me anymore. Just like that."

Okay, so saying it aloud doesn't feel good. I take it back.

"Sorry," I say when I realise tears are rolling down my face and my nose is all stuffy. Backing up, I look away and wipe my face with my sleeves. "I don't mean to be all gross. It's embarrassing, I know–"

"No it's not," she says quickly, shaking her head and watching me with a softened stare. "Is that why you didn't tell me? Because you were embarrassed?"

I exhale deeply, not knowing what to say because, funnily enough, I'm still embarrassed.

"Y/N," she urges, grabbing my hand, but I pull back gently, ashamed of the pity.

"Yes, that's why I didn't tell you," I tell her with a frown, meeting her gaze through blurred vision. "How isn't it completely and utterly humiliating, Kate? She broke up with me because she suddenly woke up one day, looked at me and thought 'nope, don't love her!' Something about me is unloveable, clearly. How isn't that embarrassing?"

Kate steps forward, grabbing my hand and squeezing it before I can let go. "Are you insane, Y/N? That's not true at all, not one bit!"

I scoff quietly, looking away from her. She only tugs me closer by my hand, forcing me to look at her.

"Who the hell in their right mind would fall out of love with you?!" she exclaims, throwing a hand up in the air. "There's clearly something wrong with her! You're amazing!"

I roll my eyes, finding it difficult to believe her. Besides, she's biased. As a best friend, she's not exactly going to put me down, is she?

"This isn't an 'I told you so' moment," she says adamantly, before pulling me into another hug, holding me so tight that I'm surprised she cares this much at all. "I'm here for you. I care about you and I wish you'd told me so you didn't have to go through it alone... please, don't push me away."

It's impossible not to love her right now, not when she's reminding me exactly how lucky I am to have her in my life.

"Thanks," I mutter into her shoulder. "I just... I don't want to talk about it."

I feel her nod in response before she pulls away and holds me at arm's length. I can't read her expression, surprisingly enough, but then she offers me a comforting smile and I almost regret not telling her in the first place.

That's Kate Bishop for you.

Since Kate discovered the truth, it's easier to just be me... the distant, moody, sulking version that is. I don't expect to feel better straight away, but it sucks being sad and I hate that I can't do much about it. I don't want it to consume me though, so I try not to distance myself from the people in my life, people like Kate. I try to keep my promise of letting her in and not pushing her away, but it's too easy to sulk.

"Did you see that, Y/N?! Clint taught me that one!"

I look up when I realise Kate is talking to me, jumping up and down with excitement, bow and arrow in hand. She invited me to hang out with her at the Avengers Compound whilst she gets some archery training in. She knows how much I love messing around with her whenever she invites me, but today I'm just not feeling it and I may or may not have been zoning out a little.

"I... sorry, Kate, I must have missed it," I admit with an apologetic smile. "Bet it was great though."

Her smile fades as she tilts her head, studying me. I know what she's thinking and look away, deciding that maybe I should leave if I'm just bringing the mood down. But then she skips over to me lightheartedly, taking a seat beside me.

"Hey," she says softly, tapping my knee with her forefinger.

I look over at her and she's already smiling my way, eyes looking up at me as she's leaned down, trying to catch my attention. Admittedly, my lips curl upwards.

"I want to take you to the fair that's happening in Central Park," she continues, straightening up in her seat, never looking away from me.

I exhale sharply, trying not to laugh. "I don't think I'd be very good company."

She lifts a brow hopefully. "Please?"

As much as I don't want to attend a fair, Kate's cute pout is very convincing, and I find myself sighing quietly, giving in with a nod. Her smile widens shamelessly before she pulls me in for a hug.

"Gross, Kate, c'mon," I whine petulantly, attempting to shove her away because she's all sweaty from training.

She only laughs and hugs me even tighter, winning against my useless attempts to fight her. I roll my eyes, pouting, but I'd be lying if said I didn't love it.

A few nights later is when the fair takes place and I realise what I've agreed to. The only reason I bother getting ready and not completely bailing is Kate's texts all day telling me how excited she is. For her sake, I try my best to push away my grumpiness as of late so we can actually have a good time.

I'm waiting for her outside my apartment building so we can go together when I spot her approaching.

"Somebody took their time," I joke when I see her.

"My bad," she chuckles nervously, stopping before me, and my eyes widen when I spot the cuts sprinkled over her face, covered by little bandages.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Raising my hand instinctively, I have to stop myself from touching her cuts, fingers hovering over them.

"For God's sake, Kate, can't you stay out of trouble ever?" I say with annoyance, though the worry I'm trying to disguise is still very much present.

"Nope...?" she says when I lower my hand, grinning sheepishly.

I settle with an eye roll, scoffing quietly. She's always been careless like this, gaining bruise after cut, even before she joined the Avengers. It always worried me, now more so than ever, but she's also unsurprisingly good at staying alive so I can't really say anything. Plus, I'm not too sure she'd listen to me if I tried to stop her from being stupid anyway.

"Come on, let's go!" she changes the subject, tugging at my hand. "I've already got my heart set on a corn dog."

"Yeah, yeah..."

When we reach Central Park, the fair is in full swing, bustling with people, vendors, rides and music playing loudly. It's the most perfect sight, instantly brightening my mood, to my surprise. Kate immediately drags me to the first thing she sees – a corn dog stand – before taking charge the whole evening. We play countless fairground games, hop on a few definitely unsafe rides, hit each other in the bumper cars and eat way too much junk food. I don't think I've enjoyed myself this much since the breakup.

By the time I'm pretty sure we've done everything the fair has to offer, twice over, we find ourselves sat on a bench to get off our feet. Kate is eating from a bag of popcorn whilst I take another look at our winnings from the night – a stuffed toy, some key rings, snacks... pointless stuff, but I can't love it any more than I do.

"You look happy," Kate says, and it takes me a moment to tear my attention away from one of the keyrings I'm studying. She's smiling at me, blue eyes twinkling with the neon lights.

"I am," I say, shrugging.

She purses her lips, looking down. "I missed seeing it."

I look away, unsure what to say but imagining what it must be like for her lately. I haven't exactly been the greatest company, but she's still stuck by me.

"It's not true, y'know," she adds carefully.

"What?"

A pause, and then: "You're not unloveable. I wouldn't be here if you were."

At the mention of my words to her once she'd discovered the truth – my fear, deep down – I close my eyes and sigh quietly. A retort is at the tip of my tongue because no matter how convinced she sounds, I know it's not entirely true. Why else would Hannah simply fall out of love with me? Get bored of me so easily?

But before I can say anything, Kate's hand slips into mine, making me open my eyes with surprise. She takes my other hand, too, forcing me to face her slightly as she watches me with a seriousness she rarely showed.

"It hurts now, but it will get better," she says with complete and utter sincerity, her eyes boring through mine. "What Hannah did was horrible. The way she went about it..." She pauses, looking up with a suppressed scowl. "God, if I could see her again just to give her a taste of her own medicine." Shaking the thought away, she looks to me once more. "But that's besides the point. Don't let it ruin you, Y/N. You're the best. And you deserve the world and every good thing in it, and you'll get it someday. For now... well," she cracks a smile, jokingly, "you'll just have to settle with me.

A small smile tugs at my lips, heart warming at her words.

"You're the last thing from unloveable," she adds, giving me a knowing look.

I'm not sure if I believe her words, but I believe that she believes it, and that's enough for me for now.

"Thank you, Kate," I finally speak, surprised at way my voice breaks. Her words have more of an effect on me than I thought. Embarrassed but smiling nonetheless, I avoid her eyes and pull her in for a hug. "I love you, you know that?"

She snickers, returning my hug. "I know, Y/N. I think you know I love you, too."

I sigh contently, tightening my hold when she tries to pull away. She chuckles quietly, staying put, and I'm grateful because I don't want to let go just yet. She's been here for me when I haven't been myself and I've never felt more gratitude for her than I have right now. What I have here with Kate, this friendship... it's definitely unconditional. It always has been.

[yujeong]

for the smut prompts: body worship—your pick who is worshipping whose body 👀

Hiii! First of all, I'm so sorry for being so late to answer this. I focused on the bunch of fics I posted and let my poor asks gather dust in my inbox. But xoxoxo, what a prompt. I've already made some posts about this, but I have a body worship idea for VP already; it's Tattoo Worship to be more precise, because as I've already said, it's a disgrace we never had it in the show. That tattoo deserves *all* the attention, thank you. I intend for it to be part of To Consume and Be Consumed, but a little later; VP can't have a successful sexual encounter quite yet, they have to struggle a little bit more first 😌 I won't hide the snippet this time, since it doesn't really have anything *too* explicit in it (though the word cock is mentioned once or twice lol). Please keep in mind it's veeeeeeeery first draft-y. Hopefully, I'll manage to make it hot one day. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I'm going to tie your hands above your head," Vegas informs Pete, whose eyes have remained glued on Vegas' face. He offers his wrists for Vegas to put the handcuffs on with parted lips. Vegas feels the effect of it on his cock, arousal slowly building up below his stomach. He will never get used to this. He will never get used to Pete offering himself up to Vegas so easily, like it's something normal. Like it's natural. Vegas places Pete's hands on the headboard, but not before kissing them, his lips brushing over every knuckle, making sure to thank him for it. Then, he grabs the black piece of cloth resting on the bedside table and affectionately caresses Pete's cheek. "I'm going to cover your eyes now," he says. The surprise is evident on Pete's face. He fidgets a little. Vegas places his free palm on Pete's chest and feels the thundering heartbeat beneath it.  "Do you trust me?” he asks. "Always," Pete replies.  "Close your eyes," Vegas says and Pete does. He wraps the cloth around Pete's head, covering his eyes. His movements are methodical and careful, making sure to not hurt Pete in any way. Pete himself has completely relaxed his body, letting Vegas maneuver him as he pleases. A new wave of arousal courses through him.  Pete is so beautiful. He intended to do this later but he can't resist; Vegas kisses him slowly, sensually, with all the love and affection Pete deserves. Pete returns those kisses in the same way, following the pace Vegas has set, even though Vegas can tell he is hungry for more. It becomes clear when Pete lets a whining sound escape his mouth once they break it off. It makes Vegas smile, one of those genuine ones that make his facial muscles hurt after a while. He ignores it. “You are so sexy, Pete” he continues, placing kisses on his neck, his shoulders, moving lower to his chest. It feels like electricity, wherever on Pete he puts his lips. He will never get enough of it. Pete gasps as Vegas’ lips pass through his nipple. Vegas grins, satisfied at discovering another sensitive spot on Pete’s body. He didn't have the chance before, not with the bandages being there. He can feel the vibrations on Pete’s skin as they connect, flesh on flesh, like they were meant to. They really were meant to.

[ceescedasticity]

fic: not titled yet but it's another absence of evidence thing, part 1 out of probably 3?

At Narvi's usual greeting question at their monthly meetings — "And what are you working on today, my friend?" — Celebrimbor made a face.

"Something that does not agree with me at all," he said. "I have been writing."

"But you draw runes so beautifully!" Narvi replied, mock-shocked.

"Very funny." Celebrimbor slumped back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "It has occurred to me that if I am going to put my grandfather's star on my city, I should make sure our history has a better account of his descendants than Loremaster Pengolodh has thus far written. Perhaps my father and uncles do not deserve it, but my cousins and my sister do."

Narvi blinked. "I… did not know you had a sister?"

"It seems most people do not. You would think they would deduce I had a mother, but for some reason people seem surprised when I mention her, too. Never mind— Actually, would you mind reading some of my drafts?"

"Not at all."

"I mean to show the finished work to Lady Galadriel, but not… this." Celebrimbor opened a desk drawer — one of the ones with a puzzle-lock — and drew out a sheaf of messy papers. "Here, here's what I have for my mother and sister—"

Curufin wed the jeweler Maltarainë Maltataniel Maltraen Maltheniel Maltwegiel.

"I forgot for a moment that that grandfather did live long enough to take a Sindarin name… We did see him occasionally in Beleriand, but he fell out with Atya — I think Atya made some insensitive remarks about my maternal uncles — and went to follow my uncle Caranthir instead, so we were not close."

Narvi raised his eyebrows. "If I recall the history correctly, the Lord of Thargelion was, ah, not particularly known for sensitivity himself…"

"No. I can only assume my maternal uncles never came up in Caranthir's presence."

As one might expect of the woman Curufin wed, she was a skilled artisan and entirely loyal to Fëanor, as were all her nearest family. Maltraen carried the feud where Nerdanel was unwilling to, among the noblewomen of Tirion. She was as disrespectful to Indis and Anairë as she could get away with, and actively pursued rivalries with Edhellos and Elenwë. Even when there was friendship between Curufin and Angrod, Maltraen and Edhellos remained at odds, though some said there was a kinship buried under the rivalry. And when distance grew between Fëanor and Nerdanel, Maltraen turned against Nerdanel as well.

The paragraph had been written out and struck through twice. "I gather you're not sure about this part?"

"It seems… sordid, I suppose. Like something that would be included to make people think worse of her. It's just so… foundational to how I remember Amil that I don't want to cut it out completely." Celebrimbor sighed. "I don't think Atya even knew how she got about Grandmother in Formenos. She never did it in hearing of him or my uncles — or my grandfather. That would have gone over poorly. Grandfather didn't always speak well of Grandmother, either, but he was the only one permitted to do that."

Narvi would have liked to attribute all this to elvish dysfunctionality, but it strict honesty there were dwarven houses nearly as bad. (Nearly.) Instead of trying to unpack any of it, he asked, "Were Angrod and Edhellos married? I'm not recalling those names."

"What? Oh, yes. Angrod was one of Lady Galadriel's brothers — not Felagund, she had two others — and Edhellos was his wife. They were also Gil-galad's grandparents." Celebrimbor reached for a pen. "I'll at least put in the rivalry with Edhellos. And I should mention Indis and Anairë."

Maltraen carried the feud where Nerdanel was unwilling to, among the noblewomen of Tirion. Her rivalry with Edhellos wife of Angrod was a regular fixture of Finwe's court. Even when there was friendship between Curufin and Angrod, Maltraen and Edhellos remained at odds, though some said there was a kinship buried under the rivalry. Nor was Maltraen a friend to Indis or to the wives of the house of Fingolfin.

"How's that?"

"Easier to understand," Narvi agreed. "Only the wives?"

"She wasn't trying to pick fights with Lady Galadriel or Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, no."

Curufin and Maltraen had a son Celebrimbor; much has already been written of him and he dwells yet in Middle-earth. But they also had a daughter, Heledhwen. She was the delight of everyone in Formenos.

"Not a position I envied her."

All who knew Maltraen wife of Curufin would have predicted she would be among the first to follow Fëanor on his quest, but she was not. Like many of Fëanor's followers, Maltraen was in Formenos when Morgoth came; like all others in Formenos save Finwë himself, she fled from Morgoth's approach. After Morgoth left with the Silmarils, those who had fled dispersed in various ways. Some went to inform Fëanor; some went to seek help; some set up temporary camp. Maltraen was one of those who ventured into the holdfast to see what had happened there. They confirmed Finwë's death and the ransacking of the treasury.

"Where were you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all. I was wasting everyone's time trying to convince my uncle Amras that I was old enough to be part of the perimeter they were setting up."

"How old were you?"

"Old enough, but Amras was the baby of the family and took being older than me very seriously, so he would never admit that. Hence it being a waste of time."

While more messengers went forth, Maltraen remained inside Formenos, to tend to Finwë's body. She was aided by others, some of whom had dealt with bodies before in Cuiviénen or in the aftermath of accidents, but she was there the entire time until Fëanor returned, in near-darkness, in the wreckage.

"I'm not sure I'm… conveying properly, the bravery it took to do that, under those circumstances. The Darkening— Well, I'm not the only one who struggles with that."

Fëanor arrived and screamed wailed howled keened already in the deepest grief and the heights of rage. All heard his cries, but his words He spoke It has not been reported what he said then, to his sons or his law-daughter or the Valar to anyone else.

"…Another difficult paragraph here?"

"Everyone knows he was — very, very affected. I don't want to go on about it unnecessarily, but it was significant… I'm not sure I should use that exact wording, either, because I'm not certain it was never reported. I haven't seen any record of it and no one would report it to me. There were arguments among my uncles over whether he had meant whatever it is that he said, but no one ever told me what that was."

…Ominous.

What is known is that when the Noldor were regrouping in Tirion, Maltraen was overcome with horror: of Morgoth, of the Darkness, and of Fëanor. She could not bring herself to go nearer to any of them.

Celebrimbor's eyes were haunted. "What I was most struck by even then was that my father did not try to argue with or reproach her. I think he knew that if something had happened sufficient to rattle her faith, there would be no mending it with words. Her brothers tried. It went badly."

"These would be the same brothers who your father made insensitive remarks about later?"

"Oh yes."

Maltraen proposed that Heledhwen should remain with her. Curufin might have agreed, save that he felt that darkened, near-abandoned Tirion under the dubious protection of the Valar was surely no safer than the heart of the Noldorin host.

"She didn't ask about you?" Narvi asked. "I suppose being older, and a man…"

"I think she would have wanted me to stay if I had been as young as my sister. As it is… I do not believe anyone ever questioned whether I would go, not even I."

So Curufin brought both his children as the host marched, and after the fighting died down they were called forward to ride through the charnel-house made of Alqualondë's piers to the bloodied swan-ships. Celebrimbor bade Heledhwen close her eyes, but she saw enough to be frightened.

"This leaves out the part where my uncles Amras and Amrod continued to treat me like a child, so I sat with Heledhwen outside the city the whole night instead of finding out whether I had it in me to slay kin."

Narvi didn't think there was anything to say to that, so he patted Celebrimbor's hand and read on.

Maltraen's brothers Maltaparmo and Maltayondo were slain by the defenders of Alqualondë, and their father Maltweg was very wroth.

"The brothers, I see."

"Maltatan was angry about them dying, angry that neither they nor Atya had gotten Amil to leave Tirion, and very angry that Atya said they were asses who'd had one job and botched it."

"What did they do?"

"I never had the nerve to ask."

[residentdormouse]

Find the Words...

... (and the theme)!

Dangerous game you're playing @mrsmungus, tagging me in this. I can hear the train whistles in the distance, and feel the vibration in the tracks... Gotta get my ticket ready, I suppose.

The rules are simple - find a sentence, or excerpt, that includes the words you're given and paste it in, and include a link to the finished story of you want. But honestly, guidelines at best - do what you want.

My words to find: honey, calm, trust, shimmer, darkness, fall, crime, portable, stain, crisp.

(It's not a slam, but I heard honey crisp apples shimmering in the darkness of a calm fall night, and I'm stubbornly sticking with the Autumn theme.)

No Pressure Tags: @imagine-you @cxttlefishcxller @asirensrage @athenswrites (don't feel the need to join in if you don't want, but saw your writblr post, and figured I'd send you one) And of course, sending this right back at you, @mrsmungus. Tag, you're it.

As always - OPEN TAG - if you'd like to join in!

Your words are: White, Cold, Snow, Frost, Ice, Gloves, Hat, Cocoa (or Tea), Blanket, Snuggle/cuddle (or any variation of this)

Excerpts below the cut...

I only have a small amount written ahead for my original story WIP 'Close to the Vale', so most of this will probably still be from the 'Wonderland' fanfiction series ('Something Like a Spiral' and 'Just Keep Diving Down'. I'll give Close first priority though.

Honey: (I was worried about this, but apparently my 'Diving' OC Lauffey has a proclivity for using this word. That said, I also found it in a section that allows me to post 'Fuck off, Flagg' and I can't resist.)

While outwardly charming, maliciousness shown through in the minute details on his face. She should have known this was going to be a big game to him. Cat and mouse, it was his favorite. Fortunately, it seemed like the typical roles were reversed at the moment. "Fuck off, Flagg." "Always so rude. You catch more bees with honey, you know…" If she could have kept all her other memories and just erased him, took away everything about this nightmare of a man, well it would have been a tempting offer. The bubbling anger building up inside her was now a known response to interactions with him. Fear was somewhere close behind, though she wasn’t looking to give him that satisfaction anymore.

Calm: (Two chapters down in 'Close' - Not used in connection with who I thought it would be though...)

"You know him?" The reply was calm and level headed. The same could not be said of the more visible distressed man to his right. "Please. If– If you know anything that could, I mean, anything that help us find—" The picture of another younger man was thrust at her. Same raven hair, same chocolate eyes. Slight differences, but clear relation. Brother most like. He had a striking smile, and she would have been charmed if not for the small tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. Plain as day, just as Paul had said. She may not know this particular man, but she knew where he’d be.

Trust: (found in a short section I wrote for farther ahead in 'Close'. This could potentially change a fair deal. First drafts and all.)

“And you were just going to politely ask me to leave everything. My life? My home?! We were only there to look for you, you know.” “Yeah, I know. Trust me, I fucking know.”

Shimmer: (wow... it's a Flagg day I suppose - pulled this from 'Spiral')

He moved close enough that only inches remained between them, and a chill emanated from his presence. Conflicting to the nature of their conversation, he gently brushed a stray lock of her hair back behind her ear. "I don't need to be your enemy." Despite the chill, his breath was hot against her face, and she braced herself for any attack that followed. But it never came. In a shimmer of smoke, he was gone. Nothing. Emptiness. She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "But I have no problem filling the role if that's how you want to play the game."

Darkness: (Might as well let him run with it... Another Flagg burst from 'Diving')

She didn't know where it came from, certainly didn't call for it, but sympathy for the man in front of her shook her resolve momentarily. For somebody with a positive nature, lighter memories are going to pull first. Bright memories to shine through. And there was most likely a larger abundance of them. It's what makes them who they are. Flagg was an embodiment of darkness. What must have happened to turn somebody into this? How does one make a monster such as him? What memories haunted him most? This paired with Rayna’s lack of delicacy. Ruthlessness. "I'm sorry."

Fall: (Not the fall I was imagining, but its all 'Close' has so far.)

Once outside the stuffy office, she found herself easily falling in step next to him. Silence dominated the first few feet. To say she didn’t know where to begin was an understatement. When she came here, she hoped to be leaving with these papers, but not under these circumstances. Not through this exact chain of events. That said, she certainly wasn’t complaining about the change in course. Damsel in distress was not her M.O., but if it led her here, it couldn’t be all bad.

Crime: (Not going to lie - very first draft and not even a completed chapter of 'Close' - has the potential to change a LOT. But I did say I was giving this first crack.)

Why wasn't the general public angry? The security cameras picked up a tattoo on the man leaving the building at the estimated time of the crime. A tattoo known to be a mark of the downtown gangbanger shitheads that were a thorn in many sides. A menace in their own backyard. Shouldn't they want a resolution? A safer community?

Portable: (From 'Spiral' again. Flagg is really showing up today...)

Food, drink, frivolity. Everything was planned out thoroughly. The pavilion was decked out with small lights. A portable generator Glen had found was fired up.  But her mind was on her task: Ad Hoc Committee welcome and rundown on the darker agenda. Find out what Larry knew about Flagg, and fill in what blanks she could.

Stain: (Yup, just letting him take it over I suppose... From later in 'Diving' Also snagged a bonus 'shimmer'.)

“It's over now. Do you think anybody here cares about…" her hands waved quickly about him, highlighting his new appearance. "Nobody cares here. Not about that. But that?" Another movement to indicate at her wounds. To the new red stains on her clothing. "That behavior we do care about, and will not be tolerating, do you understand? This is a place of acceptance. All kinds. And we do not fight our own here." A shimmer of bright red flashed over his eyes before it fell to the duller shade. The rigidity in his stance faded away. All outward appearances were reverting back to the carefree persona he usually adopted, as if he were unaffected by the actions surrounding him. Actions from those he surely considered beneath him. But he had shown his cards. He cared. And he hurt.

Crisp: (Well now it just feels weird not having Flagg. Pulled from the last section of 'Diving'.)

Her duster was hanging on the coat rack, and she grabbed it before heading back out. So much for taking a breather from it all, not that she had breath to take. The show must go on; best get back to it before somebody started ad-libbing something she wouldn’t be prepared to say yes to. The night air was crisp on her skin, and she welcomed the cold for a moment. Feeling it on her face was a welcome change from the mornings. Layers upon layers to protect from the hazards of being her. Daytime hours were meant to be her reprieve; she wasn’t built for this nonstop push, but there was little option. Protection was what mattered now. Moving people away, stopping the internal fighting, trying to find what weakness that could be exploited. The thoughts swirled in her head as she walked the dirt path towards the outskirts, but they didn’t have long to sink in. Rumination ended with an explosion, and a burst of light.

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

Snippet from my Lancewain (Gawain- The Green Knight / Lancelot - The Weeping Monk, Cursed on Netflix) fic because its a slow burn and I'm impatient and I can't get the first chapter right bfhsbbsnajjshjjsba

Unedited first draft but I wanted to get it ouuutttt;

Gawain, speaking alone to Lancelot

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

"I'll be here to fight with you, no matter what, Lance."

"I don't understand."

"There's nothing to understand. You have my aid whether you like it or not."

"Aiding me is folly. I..." Lancelot paused, sighing before wrinkling his lip to quietly continue, "It's a burden you sho-"

Gawain cut him off abruptly.

"Not to me." He knew well enough that Lancelot had nearly said 'I'm', and too did he know that the warrior definitely FELT like a burden. How, why... Gawain could kid himself that he didn't know, but if he was being completely honest... ever since his spine had been broken he had also felt the deep pain of feeling this way. By Arawn, he'd do all in his power to stop Lancelot suffering this too. Gawain pulled the Ash Fey's balled fists into his own hands, coaxing them open gently. Lancelot looked up at him then, a mournful, sorrowful look in his grey blue eyes. It was a look Gawain remembered well, the same one he'd given oh so long ago when they had first really spoken back in Brother Salt's torture tent.

"Never to me, Lancelot. Not if it's you." Gawain said, softly, tilting his head in what he hoped was a kind way, flashing him a returning look with as much warmth and care as he could muster. Lancelot's eyes flicked away almost nervously. The sorrow seemed to have tempered to sadness now though, and he seemed distracted by some internal conflict again raging in his mind.

"You show me such kindness, Gawain, why?"

"Why show you kindness?"

"And aid, and help. And care, you've fought for me, Hell, Gawain, you've nearly died for me more times than I can count, I need to- I need to know, Why?"

"Because you're worth all of that and far more to me." Gawain replied, carefully.

"Why."

"Does it astound you to know you have friends, Lancelot? People who care about you? People who don't want to see you hurt?"

From the look on his face- yes, yes it absolutely did.

"We care for you, Lancelot. That is why."

"How can you care for someone so damned?"

"Because you're not damned, and you never bloody were!" Gawain hissed, he just couldn't help the anger that hardened his tone, and he only partially regretted it when Lancelot immediately flinched, fists balling again. The man's reaction jarred him to his core, but he recognised the thoughts swimming behind his azure eyes were not from fear of his anger, but the voices of his past, tormenting him.

"It's their lies again, swarming through your mind like... like biting ants!" He continued, and Lancelot's gaze flicked up to his own for just a second. Gawain's anger seeped from him almost as quickly as it had come, and he softened his voice just a little when he spoke again.

"By the Gods, they never leave you alone, do they?"

Lancelot didn't reply, but the troubled expression didn't waver, the eyes looked away once more. Gawain gently unballed his fists again, held his hand firmly. He could feel the Ash Man's pulse near his wrist, fast, but strong. It likely matched his own.

"You are worthy of being cared for."

Lancelot scoffed.

"You are worthy of being loved."

He did not scoff that time, but Gawain feared if the man clenched his jaw any harder he might actually break it, or at least be spitting out teeth next he spoke. If he spoke again today, anyway... In the time since the Red Paladin's encampment Lancelot had been speaking more openly, albeit reluctantly, gradually, and with no small effort on Gawain's part. The distinct possibility still remained that the Ash Man had already used up his daily quota of words. Gawain realised quickly that he found this fact disheartening. He honestly enjoyed speaking with Lancelot, treasured the conversations he had managed to wrangle from the Ash Man, and his quietly observant, intelligent outlook was interesting to hear. More than that, he just... liked hearing the man speak. He had noticed too that Lancelot's voice often betrayed what his words and carefully masked expressions did not.

Now, Lancelot appeared to have shut down entirely, expression blank, body rigid and alert, eyes averted lest they leak any of the emotion the man had been brutally conditioned to hide. Gawain felt his own pang of emotion- something almost akin to greif- at the idea that even now, Lancelot was hiding, retreating from him. He wanted to clasp his hands over his jaw and force him to look at him, to trust him, beg him to accept his statements but the stubborn ox would never allow it... or worse, Lancelot would accept his statements just to appease Gawain, without meaning a single thing he'd said...

"You don't get to decide either way." Gawain told him, softly. Lancelot's eyes did not move from where they bored holes into the ground near their feet.

"It's for the people around you to do that." Gawain stated with a heavy sigh. It was a long, quick breath, clearing his lungs like he could breathe out the tangled mess of emotions that was his own mind at present. Slowly he got to his feet, careful to let go of Lancelot's hands softly before he grimaced for just a moment at the familiar stabbing pain in his back.

He opened his eyes to see that the moment he had winced had the ex-Monk immediately leaned up, hands outstretched like he was ready to catch him if he fell. Lancelot seemed to grow embarrassed, he coughed and looked away again, lowering his arms hesitantly.

Gawain couldn't help the smile, or the blossom of warmth in his chest. He trusted Lancelot to catch him every time he fell, and Gods, if he wasn't tempted to let himself fall just so the man would hold him... Stop it. Focus. Pull Lancelot out of his funk and stop getting bogged down in your fantasies...

"Now. Up you get. We can mope out here all we like, or, we can go and hunt dinner," Gawain flashed him a smile, offered him a hand "I know which I'd prefer. You coming?"

It was almost comical how many expressions managed to cross Lancelot's face in such a short succession. He shrugged a single shoulder and stood, dipping his head in acceptance without another word.

The two headed into the evening forest in a calm, companionable silence.

-Or "Gawain admits he's in love with Lancelot and Lancelot refuses to believe it".

[countlessrealities]

IMPORTANT - BLOG UPDATES 2024 !

I should have made this post at the start of the year, but between the holidays first and working double shifts later (and now), I never got around to doing it till tonight.

I made sure to include everything in this post, so you guys won't have to jump around to check my pages, so please, make sure to read it.

RULES CHANGES

Interactions: Be interested in at least TWO of my muses, or at least be open to try and interact with a couple of the others, outside your chosen one. This way I'll be able to keep interacting with you, even if I were to lose inspiration for one of the characters you have chosen.

Matching effort: I've said this a few times, but this year I've started to apply this rule. I match the energy and the interest I receive. This goes for sending memes and asks (IC and OOC), offering ideas for plots, carrying on the scene in a thread, and so on. I will also try and reach out first more (even if it might take a while because I'm socially super awkward). However, if the effort remains completely one-sided for weeks, I'm here because I want to interact with people, but I'm tired of spending my time and energy on people who don't want to interact with me, even if they say they want to.

MUSES ROASTER CHANGES

Millie and Stan have been removed from my muse list.

Rick Prime has been added as a test muse.

Muses are now listed and grouped in primary, secondary, tertiary and test muses / request only.

Primary muses: Rick, Morty, Summer, Evil Morty, A-991 Rick.

Secondary muses: Evil Rick, S-314 Rick, Bill Cipher, Mabel, Adrien / Cat Noir.

Tertiary muses: Mercenary Rick, Blitzo, Poison Ivy.

Test muses / request only: Félix / Argos, Rick Prime, B-001 Rick (request only).

GENERAL POLICY CHANGES

I won't be answering drafts so strictly in chronological order as I've tried to do so far. I'll follow my inspiration more, which means that primary muses will get slightly faster replies compared to the others.

For my mental sanity, I'll space out the replies from people who tend to answer me quickly. It's nothing personal, I need to do it not to get overwhelmed.

On the other hand, I'll be more open to brief shenanigans, dash commentary and events-related threads.

Also, if we're mains, we can discuss having a "back and forth" thread (which means a thread with short replies that I'll reply to without queueing it every 3-4 days)

I'll be more selective with who I follow (back), and more liberal when it comes to softblocking people. However, if I softblock you, you can come and talk to me about it (as long as you're ready to be civil).

If you have read this post, please leave a like / comment !

[lostusagis]

Aaaaah! Is it Shower Dee With Love Day?! Well it IS Munday heheh! *Taps on mic* Ahem. Is this thing on? Can you hear me? Ok so first I'd like to say...

YOU'RE AMAZING!!! 🎤😊

I'm so happy to have met you. I still think about it so tenderly to this day. I'm really really happy to have you not only as my rp partner but also as my precious friend ❤️ You're my favorite person to see on the dash! Anytime you reblog or post something, I can't help but send you my support by giving a like or a comment or both~! You're so fun to write with and super sweet and funny and talented and smart and considerate and patient and supportive and kind and caring and- *BREATHES* I just think ur neat :) SUPER NEAT!!!

You put so many wonderful writing ingredients into all your muses and I want to eat all of them in one big pot of soup... Yes I want to eat them wyd about it? JNHBYUGTCFRTFYVUBHINJ LIKE I REALLY LOVE LEARNING ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT YOUR MUSES! It's why I always like to send headcanon asks. Your answers are always so good and interesting and I can't get enough!

You deserve all the support and love and recognition like fr people are MISSING OOOOOOUUUUUUUUT!!! I absolutely adore you and our interactions and I'll never stop expressing that. ALSO PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE POST THOSE DRABBLES I KNOW YOU HAVE THOSE GEMS DRAFTED I KNOW YOU DO DON'T HIDE THEM FROM ME THEY'RE CARRYING DUST OVER THERE THOSE FUCKING GEMS NEED TO BE SEEN I TELL YOU SEEN!!! Haha sorry I just love reading your drabbles like seriously I'm your #1 fan! I love your writing and your ideas a lot! Always the best stuff aaaahhhhh. Ok but srsly no pressure about posting those drabbles if ur not ready, but just letting you know that if you have doubts on them just know that they always come out great in the end ♡ I can tell you put so much thought and detail into writing them. It really does shine through. Actually, it's because of you that I ever wrote drabbles here for the first time! I've done a lot of first times here on this blog because of you, in fact. You inspire me in many ways, Dee! 😊

Haha sorry this got long wow. I could go on and on tbh, but basically you're the best and ily so so so so so soooooooooooo much ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

( its 5am and im fucking skdjdjs gonna cry. you really know how to make me emotional huh? I really needed this though thanks. since as of late I've been hating my writing a lot. But man, you're honestly my favorite to see on the dash too. All those feelings are mutual. I LOVE seeing your reactions to my replies or asks, i always look forward to seeing that hahaha. And i definitely always wanna show my support to you too. I like seeing the stuff you rb related to Namida's character, helps me get a better understanding of her y'know? I adore her so much. I want to kiss her on the forehead and hug her tightly and tell her how amazing she is.

You're also super fun to write with, MAN. I still go through old threads and reread. That's how much every interaction was soooo great for me. But you're literally so sweet... So so kind. You're one of the few people I'm confident is interested in my writing & muses. Never had any doubts about that literally. I know I'd literally die for yours. Hmu if you ever write a book I'd buy that shit quick. Every reply, every ask, it's like a dessert. You've truly given me the best rp experience ever. And i wanna do my best to give you a good experience as well because im as invested in your content as you are in mine. You're awesome, amazing, so, so talented and creative. You're also such a great friend, thanks especially for sending me messages currently since it's just been rough haha. Just... Thanks for everything. I've had tough moments on this blog but having you as a mutual is why it still remains :))

But AAAA the ones i havent posted are unfinished, since i keep getting stuck or lose confidence in what I'm writing. I know i started the one i mentioned where the siblings talk about namida recently I'll try focusing on that next. You remain the only reason i still consider posting drabbles ajdjdjsksjd thanks i know i always look forward to your comments on them. But DUDE I'd love to read any other drabbles you'll write. I think so far you wrote the one where Namida got really upset and made a mess in her room & the really smutty one. I really wanna reread the first one so if you have a link pls send i read the most recent one a couple times already jesus. So good. Top tier stuff. Also if i forgot any others you posted please lmk 😩 but also just for u I'll make sure to try finishing more drabbles.

Thanks so much for being such a good friend / rp partner. Sending good vibes to you as well. You made me really happy by sending this sorry if its a jumbled mess ily )

[crashingheavens]

Hiatus; Ending Soon

Hello all, it is I, you're friendly neighborhood Digi again!

I know it has been a while, since I've been active (roughly a year I think) but, that will be changing soon! I've been fortunate enough to have a number of things taken off my plate now so I'm finally able to get my life back in order.

I'm still working roughly 60/hrs a week at my current job but I have devised a schedule of sorts that'll allow me enough freetime to actually have and enjoy my hobbies again, one of those, of course, being writing and roleplaying. I won't be active everyday, but at least 2-3 times a week I should be able to crack out some replies and threads.

That said; as much as I do want to reply to all my drafts and remaining asks, I don't want to feel bogged down or burned out just catching up. So, I will, instead, be deleting all of my current drafts and emptying my asks for all my blogs. If you have a particular thread that you really want to see through, feel free to message me here or on discord and i'll keep it around.

Other than that, I'm happy to be returning and releasing my muses to be menaces of (soul) society again.