#i'm getting sidetracked in the tags again.

[cappydoodle]

rereading my own fic and yeah I'm a comedic genius I think

[hauntinghyrule]

Prompt 1, from the hurt/comfort list, with Green and Blue?

This was originally almost pure comedy, but I added more to the beginning and it became hurt/comfort / angst-with-a-happy-ending instead ^^;;

-----

Blue sat on a bench outside the infirmary, scowling down at his hands. Blood crusted under his fingernails, and he picked at it. He couldn't tell if it was his, a monster's, or—

(He had been the closest one, when that wizzrobe's spell hit Green square in the forehead and he toppled like a felled tree. Blue had been the one to catch him.)

Red sat next to him on the bench, tear tracks drying on his face. Blue... Blue should probably be comforting him, but he wasn't—  Goddesses, Green was the one who was good at this, but Green was—

(He'd been so limp in Blue's arms. Eyes open and moving but not... present. Staring at Blue like he didn't recognize him.)

Across the room, Shadow wouldn't stop fidgeting. Switching between sitting, pacing, hovering upside-down. He was the reason the healers had kicked the three of them out of the room, Blue thought bitterly. It wasn't like the infirmary didn't have the space, but the constant movement probably annoyed the healers, and Blue couldn't blame them. He wanted to snap for Vio to go calm Shadow down, but Vio was the only one who'd been allowed to stay in there with—

The door opened, and Blue was on his feet before he even registered Vio's voice saying "He's going to make a full recovery."

Vio stood in the doorway, Green at his side. Green was leaning heavily on Vio's shoulder for support, but he was upright. He stared blearily around the room with a crease between his brows, as if the waiting area were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

"It seems he was hit with some variety of confusion spell," Vio continued, "but Blue caught him before he could hit his head, and the spell should wear off on its own within—"

"Blue! Red! Shadow!" Green shouted suddenly, face brightening as if he'd only just noticed they were there. Vio winced at the loud noise right by his ear.

"—within about twenty four hours," Vio finished.

"Blue!" Green repeated. "Could you hold me? Please."

He pushed himself away from Vio without waiting for an answer, swayed for a moment, and once again began to fall. For the second time in as many hours, Blue caught him.

"You give good hugs," Green mumbled into Blue's shoulder as Blue, grumbling, got them both mostly upright again. "You don't like to admit it, but we know—" He poked Blue's chest as if for emphasis. "—we know you're really a big softie."

"Yeah, well." Blue could feel his face burning. "Don't go telling everyone."

"Your secret's safe with me," Green replied, or at least that's probably what the slurred "yr s'rs sfwm" was supposed to be.

A click sound went off.

Blue jerked his head around to glare at Shadow, who was holding a pictobox and grinning. A few sparks of dark magic still drifted in the air around him, indicating he'd just teleported.

"Yeah Blue," he said, as he handed the device to Red. "It's just between the five of us. And anyone who ever looks at Red's scrapbook."

Blue glared at him. But he also wrapped his arms a little more firmly around Green.

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

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

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : reader is pregnant ; still extremely fluffy ; Word Count : 1.7k Request : nope! A/N : 11 work days later and I'm finally off!! YAY!!!

“Lix, baby…” You sweetly said his name, staggering back a little as you both walked through the store. He was going there to simply get new headphones for his computer and of course he wanted you to tag along with him, but you always got sidetracked when passing the baby aisle, and this time you weren’t longingly looking at the booties or the onesies… You had a tiny little plan forming in your head. 

“Hmm? What is it, angel?” He responded back just as sweet, his freckled cheeks lifting and his eyes squinting as he looked at you, his smile wide yet slightly bashful. “What’re ya doin?” He quizzed, eyeing you with full interest now as you held up two different pairs of newborn footie pajamas. 

“Which one do you like more? This one…?” You held up a green pair that was printed with frogs and little lily pads. “Or this one?” The other pair was a pale yellow with a small embroidered duck at the top. “Only three seconds to choose one though, come on!” You chimed, trying to make it more like a game so he wouldn’t get an idea of what was happening just yet. 

“Ahhhh…” His eyes wavered back and forth between the little sets before his finger shot forwards to point at the yellow outfit. “That one’s cuter, and it’s closer to Bokkari so, obviously I’m gonna choose the duck.” He explained, and you nodded along in agreement. “Look at this though, angel.” He said as he started walking again, not straying too far off as you hung the outfits back on the racks, making a mental note to remember where they were for when you came back to get them. 

“What is it?” You asked, walking over to where he stood in front of a nursery set that was duck themed, his eyes sparkling as he looked at it. “Oh… Oh that’s adorable.” You picked up the set, flipping it over to see the price on the back of the box before setting it back down again. “And completely ridiculous. $60 for a blanket and a bib? They’re charging for the packaging.” 

Felix snorted, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you to the electronics section, his mind back on track once more. “It’s cute that you completely forget that I make a ridiculous amount of money doing what I do.” He teased, playfully squeezing your side and making you jump before you leaned into him. “Don’t worry, once we have a baby, they’ll be set for life. They’ll never want for nothing.” 

It was hard to fight back the urge to tell him right then and there, but you bit your lip, looping your arm around his and resting your head against his shoulder. “I love that you’re already planning on spoiling them…” You teasingly murmured, smiling softly up at him. “How will I ever compete with you?” 

He paused for a moment, and you assumed that he was just trying to think of an answer to your question, but his gaze that was laid upon you softened as he turned to stand in front of you. “It’ll never be a competition. Everything we do will be as a team. Whatever I get for them, even if you’re not there when I get it, it’ll be from the both of us.” The short moment of sweetness quickly changed to him teasing once again as he leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose. “What’s with all this baby talk? Hmm? You got something to tell me?” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, and you shook your head fast, hoping that he didn’t pick up on your nervous giggling. 

“I’m having baby fever again. You know how bad it gets when I walk through the baby aisles.” You reasoned, and thankfully, your explanation was good enough for him. He was used to you having the baby talk the whole way home after shopping trips, but your mind would usually trail off into something else as soon as you got home. You’d have to keep up with the pattern if you wanted to keep this a secret, at least long enough to get everything ready for the surprise. 

2 weeks, one secret doctors appointment, and a small shopping trip with Chan later, and you finally had the little gift box prepared to surprise Felix with. It took a lot to keep yourself from telling him before the two weeks was up, but you just kept it in the back of your mind that his reaction would be adorable, of course it would be, everything he did was adorable. 

The camera was set up, under the advice of Hyunjin who wanted so badly to be there to see it, but he also knew that if he was at the house when Felix got home it would raise some questions and might have spoiled the surprise. Everything was being recorded, and truthfully, this would be a moment that you’d love to look back on later on in life. 

“Angel…” Felix called out from the front door, and you heard his shoes tumble onto the floor and the quiet sound of his slippers sliding across the hard wood as he slipped them on. “You okay?” Of course, today was one of those days when the wonderful symptoms of carrying a child kicked in full force and had you leaning over the kitchen sink as you tried to hold back the nausea long enough to give him his surprise. 

“Mmhm…” You hummed, cupping a bit of cold water in your hand and sipping a bit of it before turning around to face him. “Think I just ate a bit too quickly.” You explained, giving him a smile when he came over to you, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “I’m not sick, really. Come… I have something to tell you.” You said, and the sudden bout of sickness had your voice lacking the excitement that you had been hoping to convey. 

“Is… Is it bad?” He stammered, and you could almost see through his chest, visualizing his heart sinking at your words. He truly was too good for this world, he was far too sweet, and you immediately felt bad for even accidentally worrying him. “You’re not leaving me… Are you? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No!” You said, maybe a little too loudly, his eyes widening in shock at the sudden outburst. “Sorry… Sorry. I’m not leaving you. I just… I have a surprise for you and… I really want to show you.” You said the words a little too fast, and you hoped that he was able to catch all of them. He still seemed a little confused, but you were already grabbing his hand and leading him to the living room. “Sit… I have to run to the bedroom to grab something.” You motioned to the couch with your head, and once he was finally seated, you ran to the bedroom and grabbed the little box out of the top of the closet. 

“You’re not… proposing, are you? I wanted to be the one to do that…” He said, watching you with suspicious eyes as you walked back into the living room, your hands behind your back to hide the box from him. “What is that? What are you holding?” He inquired further, craning his neck to try to see behind you. 

“Shh.. Just close your eyes and hold out your hands.” You waited for him to do so before placing the little box in his upturned hands, and then you sat on the little seat across from him. “Open��” You whispered, and your heart was hammering in your chest now as you watched his eyes scan over the little box that had congratulations written across the lid. 

“What is it…?” He asked, and you motioned towards the box with his hand, silently telling him to open it. He carefully set it down on the coffee table before shimmying the lid off, and you heard him gasp softly when he saw the tiny teddy bear and the little note. “Appa…? Me? I’m… You’re… Really?” He questioned, and you hesitantly nodded your head in agreement, not able to fully gauge his reaction just yet. Then he lifted the note and on the backside you had carefully taped the ultrasound photo, it wasn’t much, but the little bean was there, and he could see it clearly. 

“Lix…” You nervously whispered his name as you watched his hand go to his mouth, and you could have sworn you heard a sigh… or maybe it was a sob… But you couldn’t really tell how he was feeling just yet. “Are you… okay? I’m sorry, I just-” 

His head shook, and when he finally looked at you, his hand falling to his lap, you could see he was smiling. “This is amazing…” He choked out, pushing himself up off the couch and striding over to you only to drop down to the floor in front of you, his hands moving to your stomach. “I’m so happy… I… I don’t even have words. This… We’re having a baby… We’re gonna have a family… Us… We are…” 

“We are…” You agreed, your own tears beginning to form and trickle down your cheeks. His hands moved up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs working quickly to wipe the tears before they had the chance to reach your chin, his smile never faltering as he looked up at you with eyes that sparkled and shined. “I love you, Felix…” 

He pushed himself up, kissing you gently, his lips tasted of salt from his tears and a slight hint of coffee. “I love you more, most, mostest, more than anything. Thank you… For giving me this gift, for loving me… For making me happy, for making me the luckiest man in the world.” He sighed, and then he started laughing, a soft laugh, a chuckle that came from his chest that seemed to vibrate through him. Your head tilted to the side questioningly, but he only shook his head. “I’m glad that wasn’t a proposal… Because I have to run to the bedroom real quick and grab something… Just make sure you say yes to my next question.” 

Perm. Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix @felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic

[lilac-5ky]

Hiya! Can you do one when y/n is bratting off to toji while grocery shopping at 3am(they're alone)🤩😍

A/N: Funnily enough I was sent this while grocery shopping myself. Also, I'm aware that another writer also did a request like this recently, but who am I to say no? However, I'll raise you this: Bratty!Reader dragging Toji to the store at 3am with the goal of having fun 'cause he's been neglecting her.

Tags: public sex gone wrong, unprotected sex, implied car sex, age gap (toji 30's, reader 20's), spanking, bratty reader, soft!dom toji, light degradation, daddy kink, piv, standing sex, name calling (slut, whore), nicknames (baby,sweetheart, kid, etc.), lowkey sugar daddy vibes from toji, talk of masturbation, our man being pussy drunk, theft!?!

Word Count: 3.9k

“Ya seriously gonna wear that?” Your boyfriend’s eyebrow quirks at the sight of you plopping down on the passenger’s seat, the sharp green eye it framed cautiously studying the naked parts of your body; dressing rather than undressing you whole.

“Already am! Why—‘s there something wrong with my clothes?” You bat your eyes sweetly.

This was all part of a bigger plan that was set in motion the second you interrupted his sleep and dragged him out of bed to rev up the car for your nightly excursion to the 24/7 grocery store. Your pink terry-cloth shorts and loose-fitting crop top that barely stretch over your thighs and belly button, respectively—those are your props for the final fact, and you, the star of the show.

“You’re wearing makeup.” Toji accuses as if that’s the root of all evil, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His nose scrunches up. “And perfume.”

“Really?” You feign ignorance with a candied smile. “Must’ve forgotten to take it off. Oopsie.”

“Forgot…sure.” His fingers are still in your hair when he nods, his hand sliding down your neck as he leans closer.

Toji isn’t an idiot. He sees it in the way your pink tongue darts outside your lips a bit too often, wearing off the two layers of gloss you’d carefully applied while he was waiting for you to fetch your precious coupons. He notices how your thighs rub together, your little pussy silently protesting for his neglecting it all night long. And when your cheek willingly tilts into the warmth of his large palm, he knows neither radishes nor toilet paper are what’s in your mind right now.

“My baby doin’ all this for my attention?” His thumb pads across your skin, swiping below you defined eyelash line. “Acting pouty cause I didn’t take care of her needs?”

You find it hard to resist when his other hand dives between your thighs, sidetracking from your own devious plot. He sounds earnest in his efforts, his lips curling into an an apologetic smile they sear on yours. You almost moan from that.

You can’t remember the last time he’d kissed you, even when that was a few days ago, at worst. What you do remember is the reason why you’re doing all this, and you refuse to return it. You let him pointlessly swirl his tongue in your mouth, failing to meet with your folded one.

“C’mon, princess, don’t go cold on me,” he mumbles. “Told ya work was shit today.” You said that the previous day, too. “Couldn’t even keep my eyes open to see how pretty you are. So damn pretty,” he takes his chances again, only this time you have no qualms about backing away toward the window.

His frustration gathers in his grip, his fingers digging crescent moons in the fat of your thighs. He glares, and you chuckle awkwardly before the situation can get out of hand.

“That’s not it! So what if this is the eight night in a row you come home beat after midnight and we haven’t… you know, in nearly two weeks? You think I’m counting? You think I don’t know how hard you work? That I don’t appreciate all the nice things your money’s gotten us?”

You plant a quick peck on his blossoming scowl. “Because I do. I really do, it’s just today’s the last day to cash these coupons out. Don’t want me going off on my own in the middle of the night, do you?”

He keeps quiet, the sole reason he allows himself to be manipulated by such cheap tricks being that up until fifteen minutes ago he was —unbeknownst to him— drooling on your pillow. That and to strip you off your clothes later on; a reason not too dissimilar from your own.

“Let’s go. I promise we’ll be snugglin’ in bed before you realize we were gone.”

“Are those stupid coupons worth that much to ya?” Toji asks.

No, they aren’t. You couldn’t care less about these stupid coupons if you tried, but staying home means spending another night burning your eyes at your phone’s screen by the snoring corpse on the left side of the bed. And you’d tried. You’d gone through every lingerie set in your possession, dabbed a generous amount of that falsely advertised Moroccan oil across your legs and rubbed your silky-smooth cunt all over his crotch like a bitch in heat, only to be turned down with another of his hoarse groans.

You’ve been patient with him. You are grateful that as tired as he was, he chose your bed to pass out on and not some random “coworker’s”. That the flawed man you’ve fallen head over heels for put up effort into straightening up for you. But relationships don’t run on gratitude alone. You miss him. His touch, his kiss, his fuck—even the green color swallowed past his permanently shut eyelids. If a silly idea is what it takes to have your boyfriend back, then you’ll gladly sit through a ten-minute drive of resentment.

“Yes, they are.” You smile, watching his hand relocate to the gear lever.

The clock points to 3:18 AM when Toji pulls over at the vacant parking lot that mirrors the state of the store; no one but a single employee to defend the fortress from the safety of his register. He acknowledges your presence with a nod, his head buried between the pages of the latest Shounen Jump. That’s not very professional of him, but what can you expect from someone who receives his paychecks for acting as a guard dog?

Toji grabs a cart from the stand and lazily pushes it into the first aisle, while you follow after the long-drawn gait of his sandals. You can’t help but pick on his slouch, both elbows balancing against the handlebar. His hair’s still ruffled from sleep, though it’s always kind of messy in a cute, boyish way. His shoulders seem twice as broad, prompting you to loop your arms around his slim waist and nuzzle your cheek against his back. You love how big he looks from this angle, yet not as big as he looks when he’s hunched over you with both your legs on both his shoulders—

“What’s your first coupon for?” He glances at you over his shoulder.

You sort the coupons in your hands, finding the one closest to the aisle you’re strolling.

“Soda. It’s right there,” you point out, and he takes a turn.

He parks the cart on the opposite end of the shelves while you take stock of the different cans and bottles, contemplating whether to start high or low. Your eyes fall on a six-pack bundle of grapefruit soda shoved deep into the highest shelf. You don’t love the flavor, but this will do.

You tiptoe to the shelves and stretch your arms as much as possible, your shirt lifting to reveal your bare back to him while your fingertips barely make contact with the edge of the plastic packaging. Your tits bounce as you jump up and down a few times before you graciously admit defeat.

“Toji? Would you mind getting that for me?” You ask pleadingly.

His jaw falls slack after a minute-long yawn, his eyes tracking your index finger to the bundle it points at. He cocks his head while sizing you up, a hint of a smirk twitching at his scar. He’s finally awake.

“Nah, you do it. Aren’t ya the one who preaches women’s equality and says there’s nothing men can do that women can’t?” Toji sneers. “Go on, kid. ‘m watching.”

A sigh leaves you as you turn around. “Feminism‘s got nothing to do with height.”

You throw yourself over the shelves again and hook a finger under the plastic net that binds the sodas together. The cans shimmy near the brink, and you are certain you will catch them when Toji’s hips suddenly snap against your ass. You yelp as the cans threaten to squash your head, a hand catching them with ease in mid-air while another hikes up your shirt and exposed underboob.

His hot breath tickles the shell of your ear as his lips attach to your lobe. “It’s got everything to do with you dressing like a whore, though, doesn’t it?”

You bite your lip into a straight line as you’re sandwiched between his body and the shelves, his fingers pinching your nipple harshly. You almost whimper—almost give in to him too easily when he starts grinding onto you, the press of his groin becoming more prominent with every languid sway.

“Wanna get fucked like one?” Toji doesn’t mumble so much as groan in your ear. “Promise I’ll be quick; heh, might give ya some more coupons after.”

An automated message informing you of the special discount in the baking aisle allows you to slip away from his clutches, and you’re unable to keep your giggles to yourself. His fists pang against the shelf while he curses under his breath. The sight is pathetic, but not pathetic enough for you to call things even. You want him to suffer like you did.

“On second thought, I’m trying to cut down on soda.” You declare much to his audible dismay. “Let’s check the baking aisle next. We’re out of bread.”

Toji stalks behind you, assuming his previous bored stance while pushing the cart forward with his entire body. You hear him huff every now and then, but don’t pay any mind. At least he’ll be rewarded handsomely for his patience. Yours wasn’t.

You halt in front of the various loaves and pastries, overjoyed to see that the overpriced organic linseed bread you constantly made excuses to not buy is 50% down. This might be a good chance to try it out. You fling it in the cart and continue your search for baked goods on the lower shelves. Jam-filled donuts. You definitely don’t need those, but it’s the only purchase you can justify, considering you have no use for the baking supplies surrounding them.

You make sure his eyes are fixed on you and bend over, exaggerating the arch of your bum. You hum softly, unsuspecting of any danger, and rock your hips while supposedly inspecting the labels. Strawberry jam, cherry jam, apricot jam, and—there it is. Your hair falls over your face as you catch his feet stepping between your own. Soon, his presence is felt rather than sensed.

Toji’s palm spreads over your cheek, his fingers long enough to squeeze a good chunk of flesh between them. “You cunning little slut,” he says in a gravelly voice. “Y’think I don’t know what you’re trynna do?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just checking the fillings; can’t read the letters while standing.” You lie through your teeth.

“Fillings, huh?” He repeats, and the word changes meaning on his tongue, gaining a lewd intonation. “Anyone can fill that sloppy cunt from this angle, sweetheart. That why you insist on doin’ groceries alone? Y’enjoy letting others see my pussy?”

You love how possessive he gets over your body. That’s another thing you’ve missed. You want him to say it again—to stake his claim over every inch of your body like he did before this hellish month began. You chose this store because you knew it would turn into a graveyard at this hour, but you honestly wouldn’t mind if it was packed with people either. You’d want to be filled by him all the same.

In a moment of weakness, you breathe out his name, and he slaps your ass so hard it reverberates across the aisles as an off-beat drum to the chirpy background music.

“Don’t ‘Toji’ me, girl. Y’know what to call me.”

“D-daddy,” you correct.

“There’s my baby,” Toji praises. “Taught her good manners, mhm?

Your cheeks assume a rosy shade. You’ve never used that name on him in public. It feels exhilarating—perhaps even more so than his fingers shoving the fabric of your shorts to the side and slipping right between your dripping folds.

He gasps. It’s a tiny sound that he thinks you missed, but it’s enough for you to gain confidence. Not many things are capable of shocking the Fushiguro Toji. His other hand joins in the action, rolling your shorts until they dig into your skin like a thong, and his suspicions are confirmed; you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

“Such a naughty girl,” Toji says, and his voice reaches deep within your pulsing core. You don’t think you can do this anymore. Correction: You don’t want to do this anymore.

His middle and ring fingers push into your hole a second time, and he slowly pumps them in and out, your clear essence coating his knuckles. Two fingers shouldn’t stretch you this good. You’re scared that in all these days, your pussy forgot the stretch of his cock.

“I oughta punish ya for acting up like a complete brat without my permission, but I’m feeling generous.” He says and you thank the gods, the universe, and whoever else is listening to your prayers for not letting you become the first woman in human history to experience blue balls.

“Tell me what ya dragged me here for, and don’t gimme any of that coupon bullcrap, or else you’ll be crawling outta here on all fours.”

Is that a promise or a threat?

His thumb finds your clit and you choke on a moan, the red jam squirting out of the donuts you grip. That’s plenty to answer his question.

“Now tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it for ya,” He rubs a full circle around the nub, the rest of his fingers plunging in so deep your knees go weak. “Got lots of options,” he reads the signs over your heads. “Canned; Deli; Snack; Dairy Aisle might be too cold for ya, hah, unless you’re into some temp play.”

His stalling makes you impatient. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right here, right now I’ll fucking implode.”

The older man chuckles lowly, finding your outburst positively endearing. He fixes your shorts back in place and instead grabs your hand, forcing you to follow him through the empty aisles on a walk that seemingly lasts for hours. He finally lets go when you make it to the Candy aisle, where thousands of colorful gummy bears can bear witness to your sinful act.

Toji flashes a wolfish smile as he corners you between two walls and the door leading to the store’s storage room. He points at the ceiling, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking for until he explains, “It’s a blind spot here. Only place without a working camera.”

He cups your cheek and brings your face to his, licking his lips.

“How do you know that?”

“Great minds think alike. Wanted to bring ya here myself some day. Didn’t think your prude ass would act out first. You’re full of surprises.” His tongue enters your mouth and presses flat against your own. Your fingers lace behind his neck, and his get a firm grip on your hips. He’s much harder than before.

“Speaking of your ass,” and they slide to seize both cheeks, “mind turning ‘round for me?”

His question isn’t a request so much as an order you must obey. “Good girl.” Toji praises you and cages your chest with one arm while the other searches for the zipper in his pants. He lets them ride low around his hips and pulls his cock out of its confinement, stroking it with his fist. You hear his breath grow sharper—or maybe it’s yours. You can’t tell over the sound of your heart; the excitement the same as if it were your first time with him.

Instead of tugging your shorts off, he yanks the fabric to one side and runs his reddened tip between your puffy folds. He hasn’t even pushed it in when you tilt your head to meet his hooded green eyes. “I’ve missed you.” His stare lifts, lustful and adoring as ever. “I’ve missed you so damn much, Toji. You’re always here, but never really here—you know?”

Toji cranes his neck to kiss you, you think, but in reality all he does is swallow the moan that comes out as he drills his cock in your hole. “Missed ya more, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes. He just has to win this too.

Once he bottoms out, he takes a moment to snare his arms appropriately around your body; one holding your shoulders semi-straight and the other spanning over your tummy to grab onto your tit, bulging muscles on both. There’s not much you can do with your hands in this position. You plant them over your mouth to drown out some of your sounds before they can pour out, though most end up slipping anyway as his cock begins to bully your insides.

You were right. It’d been so long that your pussy had reverted to its previous state. It’s more than you can take. More overwhelming and much more pleasurable than you remember.

“Got no idea how much I missed you,” Toji grunts, his voice falling out of tempo while his hips rut at a steady pace. “Got no idea how many times I jerked it to your pictures in the stall. How many—times, I beat my meat to that gorgeous face and spilled my load over your pretty lips.”

Tears well up in your eyes from how fast he’s pounding you; the imagery of his balls tensing up with all that cum he’d wasted fantasizing about you making your pussy sob for him, too.

“You got me running there so often, the guys talk shit behind my back, saying pussy got me whipped. They dunno how perfect this tight little hole is—fuck, baby.” He stutters, his teeth sinking into your neck. “Gonna cum if ya keep grippin’ me like that. So fucking tight cause ya gettin’ fucked in public?”

You whine out loud as he slows down, allowing for your hips to meet his thrusts half-way. Your head is drooping forward and your hand sneaks inside your shorts to play with your clit, flicking the small bundle of nerves while his fat cock continuously brushes against your sweetest spot. You bite at your own palm to keep quiet. It’s always the way he runs his mouth that gets you going the most, clouding your inability to think straight.

“Should I just quit?” Toji asks between heavy pants. “Stay home and fuck every day like we used to?”

You nod furiously without anything of what he’s saying registering. Your legs are turned into jello and your mind into mush while his cock splits you open, and you know that if he retracts his arms you’ll collapse on the floor like a rag-doll.

“C’mon, speak up. No one’s gonna hear us, that nobody doesn’t have the guts to come check.” He rolls your stiffened nipple between his calloused fingers, a palm coming down to slap your ass. “Lemme hear that pretty voice.”

“Y-yes.” You rely on pure perseverance to keep your pitch low as you plant your palms on the wall for support. “Don’t wanna share your cock with anyone, T-Toji.”

His lips print a smile on your neck and another on your cheek. “Don’t you mean me, darling?”

You can’t find your voice to answer him, the coil in your guts continuously tensing up—promising the best climax of your goddamn life until it’s taken away by the rapid stomping of the short-stature employee.

“What are you two doing here?” The man asks, unable to fully take in the scene from the other end of the aisle.

Toji’s large frame covers both you and the point where your bodies connect, his hips still moving on their own in spite of his attention being elsewhere. You pull away half-heartedly and straighten the shorts over your body. He leaves to fix his own clothes, while he does all the talking.

“Huh, this place got no restroom?”

Toji scratches the back of his head, waiting for his zipper to be back up before turning to the man. You mentally cast a curse on the employee, wishing it follows his family down to at least three generations, while your walls still flutter over the absence of Toji’s cock, which by the way, is impossible to hide when it’s throbbing a dark stain in his pants.

To no one’s surprise, the employee doesn’t buy your boyfriend’s excuse and demands you leave before he calls the cops. Seeing as Toji’s had enough trouble with the law as is, you grab his hand and the two of you bolt outside, the linseed bread bidding you a sorrowful goodbye from the cart you abandoned.

You don’t stop running until Toji beeps the car doors open and you fall back into your seats, the first glance you share causing you both to burst into laughter. He leans in your direction and you tilt your head in his, lips stealing a quick kiss that’s soon replaced by a playful punch of his shoulder.

“I liked this grocery store!” You complain as if it’s his fault. “Won’t be able to set foot in here ever again.”

“Plenty of fish in the sea, kid.” He shrugs, twisting the key in the engine. His hand moves to the gear, but when he notices your pout persisting, he turns off the ignition.

“Couldn’t even cash out any of my coupons,” you say in a whiny tone.

“At least we got these.”

Your eyes widen as he reveals a small box of Konpeito candy, having not a single clue when and how he managed to get them. “You stole them?”

“Uh… let’s just say I wasn’t allowed to pay for them.” He answers with an innocent smile.

“Toji!” You yell as if stealing candy is any more severe than any of the multiple felonies he’s committed. It isn’t. “Gimme some.”

Toji holds the box out of reach, extending his arm over his headrest to the backseats. “Nah. You said it’s stolen goods, don’t wanna make my baby into an accomplice. You’re far too cute to have your own mugshot.”

His sweet-talking doesn’t stop you from pouncing at him again, your hands attacking each side of his head while he insists to wiggle them away from you. The second-hand vehicle tips back and forth at your attempts, and eventually honks are fired as you climb on his lap, the fight resulting in another make-out session that reaffirms all of his statements as he tears your clothes off your body and pulls his dick out.

He missed you too.

“I’ll give ya some, but… you gonna let me choose where we do our shopping next.”

A/N: I'm happy this was my first request, had fun writing this!

[kairiscorner]

MILES MORALES 1610 (girlfriend day headcanons !)

he would definitely have set multiple reminders for that day, be it on his alarm or calendar (or both) and even though he'd remind himself of this day multiple times in the past, he still can't get rid of the anxiety and excitement of showing you just how much he appreciates you on that day :D

he'd've made several greetings in advanced, many of which were rejects and deleted, some of which were accidentally deleted and he had to retype all over again 😭

like how he was during your monthsary, he'd have stayed up all night trying to get the right words he wants to say across, but ultimately, he gets sidetracked and releases all his thoughts out through his sketches.

he listens to a playlist you two made together, and i like to think that he took his favorite lines from the songs you like the most and pieced together a message from there :>

weirdly enough, on the day itself, he acted quite low-key. he carried his sketch book with him everywhere you two went, though, and you caught him in the corner of your eye doodling or sketching something but you never got to see what it was.

though when the day was ending, miles wanted to take you out to dinner, with him paying, of course. you were a little confused because his signals were kinda mixed, but of course you went anyway.

you still watched miles draw on his sketch book the whole time, looking up at you every now and then with a big grin on his face and a hint of being flustered in his eyes and smile.

you wanted to know just what exactly your boyfriend's been up to, why he's been acting so quiet and isolated when he promised you he had a big surprise today.

and so, miles hands you his sketch book with a massive smile as you took it, thinking he was just drawing you on a whole page like he did for you before, but it turns out... this whole sketch book was dedicated to you. this was a sketch book miles kept from you for a whole year, you never noticed it was a different one, one he always meant to dedicate to you on this very day.

"i hope you're surprised... if not, well, it's okay. you know, i always find reasons to fall for you and just stop sketching for a second to admire every detail about you." he says as he glances over at you with a shy grin on his face. he chuckles a little to himself and plays around with a stray fry on his plate as he wonders whether this surprise was good enough or would even be memorable to you. "sounds cheesy, a little over the top, but i... i really wanted to show you just how much i pay attention to you, not just because i'm your boyfriend or i'm just naturally observant..." he remarked with a slight laugh as he gently placed his hand on top of yours. "...but it's because i love and want to love every bit of you as if i was falling for you all over again for the first time. will you... will you let me?"

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee

[likedovesinthewindd]

Hobie with an awkward girl…

I just thought it’d be fun cause he’s like chilled out and all that and then the awkward girlie is introducing herself with a handshake

no because he'd be so chilled while she's shitting herself

hobie brown x fem!reader

warning: alcohol consumption

wc: ±680

a/n: none

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

You weren't one to go to parties too often, but your friend had convinced you to join her tonight. You can't say no to free booze she had said and you reluctantly decided to give in and tag along.

But you didn't know where your friend was now. She had ditched you a little while ago to get herself a drink, but you had a hunch that she got a bit sidetracked. It also didn't help that you didn't know anyone at the party anyway, so had resorted to standing in the corner, silently watching as everyone enjoyed themselves.

You had gotten bored and decided to make your way to the kitchen, also in need of a drink. Who knows, you might find your friend passed out in the punch bowl. You had a habit of looking at your feet instead of looking infront of you when walking, and this had led you to bump into a solid chest. Thank goodness your cup was already empty; you probably would have died of embarrassment if you spilled anything on them too.

You were about to apologize profusely for your clumsiness, when you noticed the figure in front of you. The first thing you noticed, was how freakishly tall he was. You weren't necessarily short, but this guy towered over you, and you had to crane your neck just to meet his eyes.

You also noticed the abundance of piercings and crazy jewelry that adorned him, along with his amazing hair.

"You alright?" he asked, and you realized that you had just been staring at him, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. "Yeah I'm fine I'm just— I'm sorry for bumping into you," you said and he gave you a small smile. "No problem," he said and you breathed a sigh of relief at his calm reaction. You really weren't looking forward to getting shit.

"Haven't seen you around here," he said as his eyes quietly scanned your figure. "Oh uhm—" you wiped your hand on your pants and outstretched it, offering him a handshake as you introduced yourself. His brows furrowed at your formality, but he humored you, taking his hand from his jacket's pocket and placing it in yours. He couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous gesture.

"Can't tell you the last time I shook someone's hand," he smiled as he retracted his hand, once again placing it into his pocket. That was a stupid thing to do. He probably thinks I'm so weird now, you thought to yourself, mentally giving yourself a face palm.

"I'm sorry," was all you could think of saying. "It's all good. I'll see you around yeah?" he said before maneuvering his way around you. You turned around to see where he was off to, and it was when you noticed he had also turned around, facing you again. You felt like a creep who got caught, and had to stop yourself from turning around again and walking away.

"I like your shirt, by the way," he added and you looked down at said item as if you hadn't been wearing it all night. "Thanks, printed it myself," you said, still looking down at the design on the front of your shirt. "Yeah? That's wicked," he said and you saw how his eyes lit up at your admission.

"That's a compliment I'll gladly accept coming from you," you said, and you saw him furrowing his brows. "Because you're so cool," you elaborated, "with the cool hair and jewelry and everything. Like you just ooze so much confidence, it's crazy actually." You hadn't even realized you were rambling. "Well, I'm glad you think I'm cool," he said with a smirk, "you're not to bad yourself." and before you had time to reply he had dissappeared between the sea of people.

You felt someone touching your shoulder and turned around to find your friend. She was already pleasantly buzzed. "Meet anyone interesting?" she asked handing you a drink, and you then realized you didn't even know the guy's name. You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "Yeah, actually."

★ part 2

[dean-a-mean-tae]

Coconut Head | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

It's time to meet the rest of 3racha.

WARNINGS: Predebut!Jisung, Predebut!Changbin, Predebut!Chan, Predebut!Nicholas, flinching?, Predebut!Jisung (iykyk)

@cafekitsune made the dividers | Nicholas Ross Master List

Bad idea.

Chan told him it was time to meet new members, but this was a terrible idea. He could say something came up, so he needed to back out. His leg was hurting, so he couldn't get up. They'd have to try some other time. But he promised he'd show up if he could.

Technically, he can. He did.

He's already next to the door. A kind lady brought him there after finding him looking around like a lost puppy. He's wearing all black again. Black sweats with a black hoodie. He's most likely matching with Chan. That man doesn't have color in his wardrobe. Maybe he could take him shopping for more clothes.

He really needs to stop getting sidetracked.

He knocked, and after a while, a loud 'come in' responded. Upon entering, three heads turned to Nicholas. He was right. Black clothes cover Chan in his chair. He had a black hoodie, a beanie, sweatpants, and black shoes.

Chan and two boys were sitting on the couch. Chan smiled in greeting, waving toward the seat for Nicholas to sit down.

"Cheeks," Nicholas said, pointing at one of the boys as he sat. His eyes flickered to Chan when he and the other boy began laughing.

"What?" The boy grumbled, glaring at Nicholas.

"Nothing, you're just pretty," He said, looking at his lap. Nicholas looked over when the boy laughed.

"My name is Jisung, but you can call me Cheeks if you want," Jisung said, smiling as he held his hand out.

"I'm Nicholas," He hummed, shaking Jisung's hand. He looked over at the remaining boy.

"Changbin," He nodded as he waved before looking back at his work.

"Oh, you're Nick!" Jisung shouted, smiling at the other boy. He frowned a little when Nicholas flinched but ignored it, instead turning to Changbin.

"He's the last member!" He turned back to Nicholas, shifting forward to get closer. Jisung giggled when Nicholas began squirming in his seat. It almost looked like he was vibrating in place.

"You're like a little bee," Jisung chuckled as he tilted his head.

Chan laughed as he threw his head back. He turned around and pointed to Nicholas. "I've been telling him he wiggles like one, but he won't believe me."

"Yeah, he's a little bumble bee," Jisung teased, poking Nicholas' leg.

"Is that my new nickname?" Nicholas asked, looking between the two.

"I was thinking Coconut," Changbin chimed as he looked up from his laptop. He paused at the looks they were giving him.

"Look at his hair! It's curly, but it goes around his head like a coconut," Changbin explained, cupping his hands around his head like a helmet.

"You have no room to talk," Chan laughed as he pointed at Changbin's hair. Jisung and Nicholas laughed, latching onto each other to prevent them from falling.

Nicholas Ross Master List

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily

[lowkeyrobin]

Think you could write about quacks and his s/o bonding over qsmp? Like they start as friends and then as their characters bond they realize not only the avatars are catching feelings but themselves too? So when qsmp meets up irl it’s all tense because of their obvious crush

ooooo yes of course!! ; thank you for the req !! ; present/future robin here I failed the mission I got totally sidetracked w this I'm so sorry LMFAO

QUACKITY ; platonic romantic partners

summary ; you and Alex meet on the QSMP and develop weird feelings just before the Brazil meetup

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 1.2k

masterlist

You'd been invited to the QSMP a few months ago, joining with Tubbo, Niki, and some other content creators you didn't know. You were a fairly small streamer, having a few thousand Twitch followers and a couple hundred subs.

Quackity decided to allow you on the server because some of the eggs were begging him to add you because Charlie Slimecicle had made you canon in lore. They wanted to meet the God by the name of Y/n terribly, so he sighed and reached out to you asap. He'd been planning the prison lore and had been working hard, and did a lot of research on you.

You'd been friends with Tubbo and Niki for a long while, and streamed with them here and now. You often did trio streams on Minecraft or did method acting streams for the laughs. Once they heard Alex might let you in to the SMP with them, they were jumping with joy.

But, thankfully, you were allowed in.

You'd started working on a weird star-crossed lovers / slowburn romance storyline with Alex, corny and cheesey, but thankfully contrasting to many of the other romance storylines on the SMP so far.

As your character arcs grew and progressed, so did you as people. You both began to realize that there was very undeniable romantic tension in the room and at the perfect timing, considering the Brazil meetup was right around the corner. You noticed not long after both Niki and Tubbo called you out on the "symptoms of loving Quackity" that Twitter and Tumblr had created the y/s/n tag. You were opened to a whole new world of fanfiction and fanart, which was no doubt adorable.

But, again, that meetup was right around the corner. You couldn't wait to meet your new friends, yes, but you were scared and worried that you'd make everything awkward with Alex. But, hopefully, it'd be a fun ride meeting up with your platonic boyfriend for the first time, and you'd make some amazing memories with all these people you'd met on the way here.

Quackity posted a tweet!

You quickly click on the notification, revealing the post already gathering hundreds of likes.

"Meeting my partner in Brazil soon ❤️"

You smile, quickly typing a response.

"what partner? 🤨🤨🤨"

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You wrap Quackity in a tight, warm hug, both of you bouncing off the walls at the mere sight of each other.

"Hi, platonic partner!" He giggles, jumping up and down as you two bounce in circles.

"Hi, platonic boyfriend!"

After that, the meetup was totally awkward. You both were obviously crushing on each other, but in an oh-so-typical fashion, didn't realize the others' feelings.

Tubbo stares down at you, trying to either catch your attention or intimidate you as you sit on the couch with Jaiden and Niki. You look up, seeing the brunette boy staring into your soul.

"Hello, Tubbo"

"Y/n. Go flirt with Quackity. I'm delivering a message"

"What?" You blink, glancing over at Alex standing with Roier, Cellbit, Etoiles, Foolish, and Tina across the room. "Why?"

"Because you've both been very awkward this whole time and it's obvious there's lingering sexual tension and it's annoying everyone that he won't make a move so I'm trying to get you to do so" He quickly speaks, hands heald behind his back.

You slowly look over at Niki and Jaiden, looking to you with wide smiles, like they were begging you to do it. You roll your eyes and groan, standing up with the help of Tubbo's outstretched hand, accepting the challenge.

"Hell am I even saying to him?" You question, running a hand through your hair due to the nerves.

"Ask him out." The three speak in unision.

"Oh, yeah, it's as easy as that," You sarcastically remarks.

You catch his gaze across the room, his sunglasses resting on top of his hat. You lightly wave with an awkward smile, which he sends right back, a little bit of red dusting his face. You feel your face warm up as you quickly look away, staring daggers into Tubbo's eyes.

"Nevermind, pal" You speak, sitting your ass right back down as you were to embarrassed after that interaction.

"Shit!"

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The following day, you were out on a walk near the beach with Alex, Cellbit, Tina, Niki, and Roier. Tina and Roier were picking up damn near any seashell they could find, hosting a contest of who could find the better shells for Cellbit. Both of them were basically racing down the sand, yards ahead of the rest of you.

Niki and Cellbit chatter with Quackity about God knows what. Meanwhile, you were taking pictures of them and the beautiful scenery around you. You select about four or five to post to your Instagram, and title it 'platonic boyfriend made it awkward /hj. I don't wanna leave this beautiful place'. You click post and go to the QSMP Brazil Meetup Discord, and send the pictures to the photos channel for anyone in the pictures who wanted to save them.

You put your phone away for a while, drifting behind the trio as you slow your pace, having found a crab and wanting to look for some buried shells in the sand. You feel your phone buzz a few times, either being Instagram or Discord notifications. You ignore it, wanting to soak in the fresh, salty ocean air and the feeling of sand sticking to your hands and falling into the crevices of your shoes and socks.

While you catch up to the others about a football field away at this point, you take your phone out, wanting to check what those buzzes were. Instagram, not so surprisingly. But what was surprising was them being comments from Quackity.

'what if I didn't want you to only be my platonic partner 🤨 what then???'

'y/n please catch up to us they're bullying me now'

You read Niki and Roier's replies, smiling as you do so.

'y/n/n he's crying because he wants to be with you so bad'

'make the suffering end already, y/n'

You shove your phone back in your pocket and begin to jog down the shoreline, attempting to catch up to the five as the sun begins to slowly set over the water.

Once you reach them, you notice Alex's clammy hands on your shoulders and how fast he was speaking, cheeks red as ever. The other four stand off to the side, not directly watching but definitely listening as they look over the shells that Roier and Tina had gathered.

"Y/n I am so hopelessly in love with you and I wanna be your romantic boyfriend, not just your platonic boyfriend, because it's been driving me crazy for months. And everyone keeps telling me you feel the same way, so if I did this for nothing I might actually cry"

"You literally just asked me out on a beach, I don't even know if I'm dreaming-"

Quackity cuts you off by lightly pinching you. "You're awake! Sorry, fuck. I'm just, shit, if you need time, it's fine. This is just really embarrassing"

"How do you think I feel?" You joke, lightly smiling.

"You're a dick" He laughs

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"I changed my Instagram bio to 'quackitys platonic romantic partner"

"Wait, hold on, lemme match yours!"

"Wow, stealing my heart, and now my ideas?"

"Shut up!"

[aaaaafro]

Soft Japanese Pillows - IVE - Rei x M! Reader (+18)

tw: pussy-eating, squirting

This is a crime, I'm still just halfway through my wattpad update and yet I got sidetracked by Rei but who cares? It's for my baby. Enjoy yall, part 2 maybe?

"... Here are other selections; all of these are manufactured in Japan with 100% authentic Japanese materials and I can guarantee you that you'll be getting the greatest good night sleep when using these." The young lady enthusiastically presents the products before you.

You honestly have no idea on how you've managed to get here and browse pillows. All you know is that, you just came out of work, your neck is killing you and the thought of having a good rest at home isn't really that good.

Stumbling upon a still open bedroom furniture store at this late in the hour, you just told yourself, fuck it might as well upgrade your sleep for a while you're at it.

"What makes them so great again?" You asked and the lady once more beamed with a smile due to your interest.

"Well, like we were talking about earlier, this is made from authentic Japanese materials. It's versatile, comfortable and long lasting." She smiled throughout the presentation.

"It does feel nice in hand." You complimented and that just made Rei even happier.

"These pillows also come in different sizes, so you can have them in small or large." She added before winking subtly at you.

"Alright... Rei." You called by the name displayed on her name tag after doing a bit more inspection of the pillow.

You're currently on the verge of actually purchasing it and Rei knows this but she wasn't just satisfied with verbal promotion. She suddenly took your hand and led you to a more secluded section of the store. It was surprisingly nerve-wracking as she just fixed the test bed and you stood there with the pillow in hand.

"There's actually another quality that I forgot to mention..." She paused for a bit as her eyes stared intently at yours.

"Sir, remember earlier when I said that it's long lasting? I wasn't only talking about the material. I'm talking about the feel of them." A devilish smile from Rei sends shivers down your spine as she then sits on the test bed.

"W-what d-do you mean?" You're currently a stuttering mess.

"The feel of it will remain with you forever." She smiled.

You can clearly see how her thighs got squished flat on the soft surface. Rei knows where your eyes are and she intends to keep it there, she slowly raises her one leg and places it on top of the other.

Swallowing a great amount of saliva as she gives you that adorable chuckle she had from earlier when you entered the store asking for some assistance.

"Why don't I give you a demo sir~?" said Rei ever so innocently yet the way she ended that question had a little bit of starch to it.

She patted the empty space right beside her and for some reason you're quick at your feet and took a seat right next to her. Again Rei hits you with her infectious smile as the proximity between the two of you closed.

"Right..." Rei then takes the sample product from your hand and shakes it for a bit.

"Now! To experience it first-hand..." She then placed the pillow on her lap before gently patting it as if she was pertaining to something.

"Come on sir... I don't bite." Rei's tone was so confusing adding a little hint at the end of her sentence paired with her sly smile.

You just can't help it, you surrendered yourself trusting that she means well. Laying your head on her lap with the pillow and geez! If it isn't one of the most comfortable feeling you've ever felt. Or is it?

"Mhmmm." You didn't mean to but you accidentally let out a moan as your tension was being let out.

"Does it feel good, sir?" She asked before brushing a bit of your hair away and caressing your cheek.

"Y-... yes?!" You were honestly about to stand up but it was such a calming feeling not just from the pillow but also Rei's touch.

"You can feel it, right sir? The strain on your neck is no longer there."

She wasn't wrong so you just agreed; "Right." Before closing your eyes.

"Mmmhhuwaaa." And that was something.

You jolted up like a deer hearing a gunshot, you can see the shock in Rei's face, taking a feel of your forehead with your hand, you feel a damped spot on it and once you look at your fingertips you can see a hint of red tint on it.

"W-wha–." You think about questioning what the hell is going on but you couldn't even get to the half of your thought seeing Rei's pout.

"I'm sorry sir. I was looking at your face and you seemed really relaxed and I thought I'd help you to relax even more."

Hearing the guilt in her tone, sends knife stabs to your heart. Rei has been nothing but helpful to you this whole evening yet you're here snapping on her for something so trivial.

"I'm sorry– I was... I was just shocked." You pleaded and gladly the sadness in her eyes disappears.

"I'm sorry as well sir, let me make it up to you."  Rei suddenly reaches for your hand pulling you closer.

"I'll give you another sample of a very special product and this time I'm positively sure it's 100% authentic Japanese."

Rei yanks away the quality pillow before pulling your face down towards her soft and supple thighs. Oh boy aren't you so wrong with even considering the pillow earlier as a 'good quality' product. As your face rests on top of Rei's thighs

Despite the slightest difficulty in breathing, you honestly don't mind it at all, especially when given the chance of taking in Rei's scent. It was warm and cozy, as she added the feeling of brushing her delicate fingers on your hair.

"How is it sir?" Rei asked with her soothing voice.

"iffhm gooffhmm." She chuckled at your response and the fact that you didn't even bother taking your face off of her thighs.

"But no need to be satisfied yet with that because I still have more to offer." You hear her whisper.

That ticks off something in you but with your body finally succumbing to its fatigue you have no fight left for what's about to happen. As Rei starts to move your head towards her body.

Absolutely no way in your mind you'd even think that you'll have your face buried on an gorgeous Japanese woman's pelvis on a random weekend night.

"How is it sir?"

You're honestly lost of words as you just take in the whole experience. The softness of her thighs, the heat radiating from her core that's inches, literally a hair strand away from you, the way her breathing starts to become erratic, the eagerness of her hand pushing your head in even more to her clothed core.

"Can you feel it?" You could only nod as you take all of it in.

"As I was telling you sir... the Japanese pillows come in different sizes." Rei suddenly grabs a hold of your hand that's close to her body.

And to that she suddenly guides it up towards her torso. Not even a second after your hand landed on something exquisitely tender. You gave it a good squeeze only to hear a moan right after.

Your head regretfully detached from Rei's thighs and the moment you looked up, the first thing you saw is your hand on top of her breasts, in which Rei didn't really mind.

"Didn't I told you sir? Different sizes." That proud smile on her face really gives you goosebumps.

Rei then placed her hand on top of yours before giving it a little squeeze. Biting her lip to suppress her moans. A few more squeezes in and the next thing you know, your hand just had a life of its know and is now kneeding Rei's orb.

After Rei's hand has served its purpose it was finally able to move on to its next task. That task is to push your head back onto her thighs or perhaps even deeper.

Just as then Rei got sick of the position you two are currently in and decided to finally lay down on the test bed more comfortably. You honestly couldn't give a single damn about how open the space is, or how easy it is for someone to walk up on the section you two are on, as you followed Rei's lead.

With her back flat on the cushion you followed along sitting right in front of her folded healthy legs. Now. you're not a religious guy but you're now thanking whoever higher being is responsible for providing you with this kind of opportunity.

"Sir, it seems like our promotion isn't that convincing enough for you. How about we give you a little taste test?" A devilish smile came from Rei, as she raises both of her legs up giving you a good look at her guarded but visibly aroused core.

You tried telling yourself that 'it's not magnetised' and yet you're being pulled in like a dog on a leash. With her dainty fingers slipping into the hem of her underwear, you braced yourself as to what amazing sight it will be but it's torture now as Rei takes her time.

Seeing how her thighs hugs the fabric on her underwear. You'd like to offer some help but seeing the enthusiasm in Rei's face, you just sat there and respect her little foreplay.

"Are you ready sir?" It's the innocence in her tone that sends you to another dimension tonight.

Alluring white fabric, her red moist lips both up and down. The comfort of the cushion right under you. You're salivating at the sight of the alluring Japanese woman in front of you and there nothing stopping you now from diving in.

Your mouth went straight in, no peppering needed as you try and get a taste of every crevice of her lower regions, while your head is being sandwiched in between the soft Japanese pillows, that is Rei's thighs.

"Mmhmm! Yes! R–right there, sir." Her song of siren's just motivating you to do better, with you pushing your tongue even deeper inside her.

She was squirming a lot but gladly you have a hold on her thighs preventing her from accidentally detaching herself from you and that proved to be more beneficial, when all of a sudden her hands intertwined with yours before gliding it up her tone stomach and up her healthy chest.

"F–fuck~"

It didn't even need any more motivation as you just start massaging, kneeding, molding it to your liking. All the while Rei's on an all time high as she enjoys the double sensation you're currently delivering.

Like a kid handed his first candy, your tongue explored the foreign taste of each section of Rei's snatch. From the outside to the inside there's not a spot left untasted. A playful bite on her clit. A lick in between the lips, peppery kisses on her thighs. Even a probe into her puckered hole and the next thing you know;

"Ah h-holy sh–!"

Her toned-yet-soft thighs suddenly got tensed, as she bucks her hips and you just went to town in her snatch with your mouth.

"S–sir! Ah! F–fu... Ah! Shiii~." She pulls away right on time as her juice starts spraying all over your face meanwhile Rei's just quivering right in front of you.

After a few more tremors, a minute went by and you can see the spent Japanese laying there crossed legged trying to catch her breath. To your idea, you just decide to call it a day and rest your head on her soft thighs.

"H–how were they s-sir?" still panting Rei asks.

"I'll take two of these pillows, please?" You replied.

The two of you made eye contact before smiling at each other.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Part 2 or nah?

[oepionie]

Hi! I'm not sure if this request is odd, but could I request Jamil with an s/o that's skilled at pharmacology and cooking?

CHARMING THE SNAKE. jamil viper

Character/s: Jamil Viper x GN! Reader

Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst if you squint really hard

WordCount: 700+ |💌 Masterlist

> If you were skilled in pharmacology, I can see him being interested in the research work you do. He enjoys spending time with you in your lab while you work, however occasionally he gets sidetracked and ends up staring at you instead.

Jamil watched you move around the lab efficiently, grabbing papers and test tubes as you went. He sat in the far back, leaning against the wall as he watched you in your element. His half-finished homework was scattered on the desk in front of him. Homework that he had abandoned in favour of staring at you instead.

Your hair was pinned back with two golden snake clips, ones he gifted you himself. You had a focused expression on your face, tongue occasionally darting out to wet your lips. He let his gaze move to the soft line of your cheeks before finally looking into your eyes. They were like sparkling gold coins, pieces of pale, polished emerald, dazzling amber, and intricately carved jade, similar to the gems and jewels he'd seen at the bazaars back in the Scalding Sands. Your eyes shone under the lab's overhead lighting like hidden gems in rich dirt. Jamil wished to stare at them for hours, had stared at them for hours.

"That essay Sir Trein assigned isn't going to finish itself, Jamil." You mused, not looking up from your papers as he stared at you from across the table. He blinked before hastily looking down.

"Ah. Yes of course."

> Cooking dates? Cooking dates. Jamil would put both your culinary abilities to use and convince you to join him in the kitchen. After all, isn't cooking so much better with your beloved?

Placing a sheet of phyllo dough into the pan, you quickly grabbed a pastry brush, brushing the sheet with melted butter. Jamil was, unsurprisingly, placed in charge of food preparations after Kalim announced yet another weekend party at Scarabia. You had promised to help, and now here you were, wearing a frilly apron while preparing Baklava in Scarabia's kitchen.

"How is it?" Jamil placed a hand on your hip, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. You jumped, cheeks burning up from the close proximity between his body and yours.

"Make sure the mixture is layered properly." He spoke in a low and deep whisper, eyeing the pan. He clasped his hands over your own, guiding the pastry brush along the pan.

"J-Jamil! I know that! Shoo! I'm trying to concentrate here." As you turned to face him, he gave you a sly smirk and stepped back. His charcoal grey eyes swept over your body before settling on the apron you were wearing.

"Kiss the chef, huh?"

"It was the only apron they had left!"

> Despite the teasing, he would actually melt if you cooked for him, though he'd feel a bit guilty about it. Being the vice dorm leader and Kalim's babysitter retainer leaves him with little free time, thus he hardly ever finds the opportunity to take care of himself. He is incredibly appreciative of your love and generosity, it might just take him some time to get used to it.

"Jewel? What are you doing here? Jamil stared at you bewildered. He was on his way to history class, running a bit late since he had to rush back to the dorm when Kalim once again forgot his homework. That's when you unexpectedly arrived, looking a little unkempt and holding a lunch box in one hand.

"Jamil! I've brought you lunch!" you say brightly, your one free arm raised up to beckon him in for a hug. Jamil closes the distance in less than a second, pulling you in. You pressed a kiss on his cheek, chuckling when you felt his skin burn up.

"Thank you but you really didn't have to." He steps back and coughs into his palm, attempting to maintain his composure. Jamil knew that cooking for him every day was no easy fit, especially when you're practically swamped with all the work that Crowley dumped onto you. Still, as with anything thrown your way, you somehow always go out of your way to make time for him.

"I wanted to! Here, take it!" Ignoring the pang of guilt in his chest, Jamil plucks the lunch box from your hands. He's careful with the meal, lifting the cover to catch a glimpse of what you've made for him today. The meal featured a bed of creamy milky rice which was topped with a butter-coated roast chicken.

"Saleeg? I was just craving this earlier, how did you know?"

"It was just a hunch~"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and motivating on my end !

[anonauthorsworkshop]

helloo, i stumbled upon ur mha x scp au and AHDSIHDSGISDGJ UR WRITING??? IS SO GOOD?? (also im new here hi, can i be 🎭 anon) more mha x scp au pls /nf tho

hii 🎭 anon :) i get a lot of requests for this au haha, sure!

previous part here

AU where MC is transported into the MHA universe with a SCP-summoning quirk. essentially a MHA and SCP crossover. you can read the rest of the parts under the tag #pp mha au

(note: i have never watched or read mha in my life and all of my knowledge is from fanfics and lazily googled questions! sorry in advance for any mischaracterizations or anything that just... doesn't make any sense? lol)

-

You lean forward, nearly falling off of your chair in the process. Squinting your eyes into narrow lines, you focus on one, crucial objective:

Trying to figure out what the hell is sitting right in front of you.

He looks like a cat, sort of. He reminds you of Josie, or, well, 529, with his feline-esque features and all.

Oh, you really should summon Josie here again sometime. It's been quite a while since you last have. That cat makes a good cuddle buddy. Even if she's missing the entire other half of her body.

You hum in thought, continuing to careen forward from your chair. No! This thing across from you is nothing like Josie. His ears look more like a bear, like 1048. Or could he be a dog? No, no... You've got it! He's definitely a rat!

Leaning back, you return to a proper sitting position and internally applaud yourself for finding the solution to your own ridiculous question. A rat, you think to yourself, face smug. Reminds me of a certain mask that drips black snot.

Wait a minute. The satisfied expression you adorn falters as you inspect the rat closer. What if it's not a rat, but a mouse?!

No, you're getting sidetracked! You take another bite of the banana you have graciously been given by your... captors? Do they count as captors if you willingly went with them?

The clearing of a throat. "Excuse me. If you could please answer the question..."

Oh, right. They're not really your 'captors,' just your interrogators, (that provide you with free food, might you add).

"What was the question again?" you ask, before not-so-elegantly stuffing the rest of the banana down your throat. You couldn't help but cave into your stomach's hunger; you haven't tasted this quality of fresh food in years! No more scavenging for meals or rummaging through garbage bins!

The man in uniform raises an inquiring eyebrow. You examine the badge attached to his right breast pocket: 'Detective Tsukauchi.'

He gestures to his side. "He asked you for your name."

Your eyes follow his hand's movements, and you find yourself gazing at the rat once more. "Oh, I wasn't paying attention." You admit shamelessly, grabbing another banana from the bowl placed before you. "I'm Y/N."

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N." The rat smiles. You absentmindedly nod in response. "I'm Nezu, the principal of U.A. High. The man beside me is Detective Tsukauchi," you glance at the final stranger, "and this is Aizawa, a teacher at this school. He is also the one who found you. We would like to ask you some questions, as you are already aware."

"Sure," you comply, shoving another banana into your mouth. "I don't mind."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen, I think."

"Who are your parents?"

You shrug, nonchalantly reaching for another banana. "Don't have any."

Nezu's grin widens slightly, and you watch him place a paw below his jaw. "Would you be comfortable telling us about what happened in that alley?"

Cocking your head to the side, you carefully peel off the banana's skin. "Which one?"

The detective speaks up. "The one you were found in."

Chewing another bite of your food, you tap a finger to your chin in thought. "Well, I was asleep until I heard a bunch of noise." Slowly, you turn to Nezu, replicating his ear-to-ear smile as you dramatically retell your experience.

"I looked up from my home, my beloved alleyway cardboard box, and saw two groups of people fighting. I decided to hide in my box until it was all over, but then one of them crashed into my home. They crumpled my box, and my hiding spot was revealed! The two groups started arguing about 'gang territory,' or whatever, and one of them decided to use me as a hostage and pointed a gun to my head."

You sink your teeth into your banana once more, oblivious to the horrified looks from every adult in the room.

"Oh, but it was fine," you casually continue, mouth half-full, "since, you know, I took care of it and all."

"When you say that you 'took care of it,'" the detective asks cautiously, "do you mean that you used your quirk?"

"My... quirk?" You scratch the back of your neck. "I guess it's my quirk? Don't know too much about 'quirks,' to be honest. I've never been to a doctor, or whatever specialist you go to for checking those out."

"Could you describe to us what it was that you exactly did?"

You gulp down the rest of your banana before replying. "You mean, in that alley? I summoned, or, like, conjured up one of those, uh." You pause, replacing 'SCPs' with another word to prevent further confusion. "Creatures? One of those creatures."

Tsukauchi looks you in the eye. "These creatures that you summon." You glance at the detective's hands, and you notice that they're trembling. "What do they do? What do they look like?"

"Usually I summon them to help and protect me." You explain with a shrug, "Oftentimes I encounter people who want to hurt me for some reason. There's a bunch of, er, 'creatures,' that I can summon, and they don't typically look like your perception of what's 'normal.'"

You continue, "There are endless possibilities, really. One looks like a teddy bear, just covered in human ears." Tsukauchi's eyes widen, as if his suspicions have been confirmed. "There's some that are long and bony. Some of them have these gigantic claws and razor-sharp mouths. Some of them are all gooey and acidic-"

"I believe that's enough." You turn to the side, taking a brief glimpse at Aizawa, who is standing beside you. Those were the only words he's spoken this entire time.

Turning back to the other two, you're about to grab another banana when you catch sight of the detective. You stare awkwardly, your hand paused mid-air. He seems to have completely spun on his heel to face away from you, hands clutching the wall as he gags and dry heaves. You scoot back in your chair uncomfortably.

"...And you do not have a home, correct?" Nezu stands up from his seat, approaching yours.

"Well, I did, but like I said, my cardboard box was destroyed because of those two rival gangs, or whoever they were."

"I see." He raises a paw so as to pet the top of your head. You clumsily bend down in your chair, allowing the two-foot-tall principal to reach your height. "We can arrange something for you. You may stay in a personal dorm here for free, if you would like." He smiles, "So long as you attend this school, the police force has also gladly agreed to erase your criminal record!"

You gawk at him. "C-criminal record?" Well, you guess you usually do end up leaving a mess of dead bodies behind, but it's always in self-defense!

"You should know it is illegal to use your quirk unlicensed and in public, Y/N."

Surveying the room, you dart your eyes from person to person. In the corner of the room, the detective, who is on the verge of vomiting up his insides. The man beside you, Aizawa, who refuses to look at you. The one standing in front of you, Nezu, who is blackmailing you, but is also offering you free shelter and free food...

You huff, grabbing Nezu's paw and shaking it wildly. "It's a deal, then."

[liminalmemories21]

Fuck It Friday

tagged by @paperstorm. Thank you! Cheating a little because this is an outtake, not a snippet.

This is an outtake from Knave 4 that got cut really early when I moved the action in this story from New Orleans to Dallas (mostly for logistical reasons - you can drive between Austin and Dallas fairly easily, but NOLA is an 8 hour drive and that was too far for my purposes. Also, I love NOLA, but I do not know enough about it to make it a character in my story). But, that being said, I really really loved this scene because it was fun and flirty and hinted at TK knowing the Leverage crew (all heist stories exist in this universe). That bit about TK and glasses is going into Knave 4 somewhere though.

"You want to weigh in on this maybe?"  Matt says with mild exasperation.

TK doesn't look up from where he's squinting at his computer and taking rapid notes on a pad of paper.  "Not my turf."

"What does that mean?"

That gets TK to turn away from the screen and look at Matt over the rim of the reading glasses he's started wearing when he needs to work at night.  He's been fretting about it, and Carlos has so far been too amused by his vanity to tell him how unbearably sexy he finds them.  He's saving it for a night when TK needs an ego boost.

"New Orleans has a crew."

Carlos and Matt both look at TK.  Matt's the one who bites the bullet and asks.  "What?"

TK huffs a breath.  "It's rude to poach on someone else's turf.  New Orleans has a crew.  We can't go."

Carlos and Matt exchange a look.  Matt clears his throat.  "Can you say more?"

TK looks baffled.  "How would you feel if someone came into your house and started rummaging around in the drawers uninvited?"

Carlos and Matt exchange another look, and Matt raises his eyebrows like 'do you want to tell him, or should I?'.  TK catches the exchange and flushes.  "Okay, bad example.  But my point stands.  New Orleans has a crew that lives there.  I'm not gonna barge in and start investigating something there."  He waves a hand.  "I'll let them know they've got a fox in their henhouse and they'll take care of it."

Matt opens his mouth, presumably to point out that this is not how investigations work, but Carlos has a more pressing question.  "Wait, does this go both ways?  Like do you get a courtesy phone call if someone's planning a job in Austin?"

TK frowns.  "Huh.  I've never really thought about it.  I mean, I'm out of the game, but technically yeah, probably someone would give me a head's up."  He shrugs.  "Honestly, it hasn't come up so far.  All our thieves have been local home grown idiots."

"Belyaev?"  Matt asks like he can't help himself.

TK makes a face. "The Russian mob does not, generally speaking, do polite.  I'm talking grifters with class."  He points a finger at Matt.  "Cassel definitely doesn't count as classy."

Matt looks like he has so many questions, but Carlos is sidetracked.  "So, you're our what?  Superman?  Protecting the city?"  He gives TK a serious look.  "Baby, do you wear spandex under your work clothes?"

TK gives him a dirty look.  "You know what I wear under my clothes, and some days it doesn't include - "

Matt holds up a hand.  "Nope.  I'm calling TMI.  I don't need to know.  Can we go back to the New Orleans has a crew thing?"

TK slants him a look.  "If you seriously want me to believe that the FBI doesn't know who's working out of Nola, I'm gonna have to tell you to pull the other one, because it's got bells on.  Look, I'll give them a call, let them know and they'll handle it."

"They'll handle it?"  Matt says faintly.  "What does that mean?"

TK shrugs and goes back to his email. "It means they'll take care of it, clean house."  He glances up again at Matt's loud silence and rolls his eyes. "omg, they're not gonna kill the guy, just you know, scam him back a bit, hack his email and sign him up for Cat Fanciers magazine.  I don't know, they're creative."

TK apparently believes that's the end of it, because he turns back to his computer, and studying for the final he's worried about and Carlos isn't at all, and Carlos can tell from the way his eyes narrow and he starts typing that TK has entirely dismissed the conversation from his attention.  Matt gives him a look, and Carlos shrugs helplessly and smiles.  "What do you want?  He said he'll give them a call."

okay, I'm tagging for outtakes - @welcometololaland, you have to have outtakes, and @rmd-writes, and @strandnreyes, and @three-drink-amy

[tired-reader-writer]

Smth smth a fan of a story abt literature lacking any respect for literature smth smth—

No, actually, you misunderstand.

AoB is not a story about literature. It's about books. Making books. The contents of said books has never mattered. Not to Myne, not to any of the characters, not to the author.

We never get to hear any of Effa's stories despite it being the first thing Myne makes into a book. Not even a summary. It's as though the narrative doesn't care about the actual story, only that Myne has material for book-making!

Nevermind that storytelling is a rich art that has existed for as long as we've been human, nevermind that stories have been a companion to humanity since the dawn of time, nevermind that oral history has been dismissed and looked down upon by scholars but is so so so rich with information and value and—

Nevermind, of course. It doesn't matter. It's never mattered to Kazuki.

The titles of the books published and distributed also have like. Generic-ass titles. Royal Academy Love Stories. A Ditter Story. Nothing is said of their contents, except that Boys Like Ditter Books and Girls Swoon Over Romance. Nobody in the fandom ever talks about any of the books in the story because there's nothing to talk about. What can you gush about in A Ditter Story? It doesn't matter. Doesn't matter at all. Never has, never will.

Tell me again how this is a story about literature? Nay, nay, the art of writing and storytelling is given no significance or weight in this damn story and trying to pretend otherwise to give it more credit is... disingenuous, in my opinion.

For all that fucking Pandora Hearts isn't a story about literature, it's about so many things (a story about a story a story about love a story about imposter's syndrome a story about realness and the human about a story about so many things but about literature it is not— even if it was based on Alice In Wonderland wait I'm getting sidetracked), anyways it has an in-universe novel series that's published by the volume, Holy Knight, and we get little glimpses into what goes on in the story! One of the characters, Edgar the valet dies in an act of self-sacrifice for his lord Edwin who cuts his hair in mourning after losing Edgar in the end.

Now, why does this matter? Because the novel was actually narratively relevant to the story of Pandora Hearts— Mochizuki Jun is a meticulous writer whom I really look up to— Holy Knight became the connecting common ground that let Oz, the protagonist, befriend Elliot and Leo (master and valet duo) when they first met as they are avid fans of the series (well, two of them were, Leo wasn't to my memory but I digress). It is not only a nifty little tool to give these characters a common ground but it also becomes relevant to their characters in other ways— it sheds light on their characters, Oz who has the self-sacrificing Edgar as his favorite character values his own life so little, is suicidal to some degree, and views himself as expendable. Elliot on the flipside is the opposite— he very notably said “People who think so lightly of their own lives do not have the right to protect anyone!” (which is also a major theme in Pandora Hearts but shush, me, shush, I'm not here to proselytize about an actually well-crafted story here, fuck). Normally I'd avoid spoilers for this kind of series (full of mystery and plot twists and everything good) because it's so good you should experience it yourself but I know that nobody in the AoB tag will give a shit about checking out a well-crafted story (if they think AoB is the height of literature, do you blame me for thinking so?), I'm gonna spoil it. Elliot dies! In an act of self-sacrifice! His last words were directed to his valet: “I'm sorry, Leo.” HOW FUCKING IRONIC IS THAT? And Leo cuts his hair in the aftermath/fallout of Elliot's death— where his grief leads him down a self-destructive spiral. A role reversal between Edgar and Edwin.

From this example provided, you can very clearly see the singular in-universe novel Holy Knight fulfilled multiple narrative functions: reinforcing/establishing the manga's themes, establishing characters, and foreshadowing.

Have I mentioned I love Pandora Hearts to death?

And it's not even! A story! About literature! As many claim AoB is!

How fucking cool would it have been to have something similar with AoB's in-universe novels, something to foreshadow events, stories bringing characters together (no, the library committee only half-counts bc it's books that brought these ppl to gather, not a love of literature and storytelling specifically), stories affecting characters and giving them hope or solace or whatever, stories being used as a narrative device by Kazuki to push certain themes and such?

I could go insane over the utilization of Holy Knight in Pandora Hearts but there's just cricket noises for the novels in AoB bc. I'm. Given. Absolutely fucking nothing! Nada! None! And I'm someone who's like a bloodhound that hunts for symbolism and symbolism only! I have a whole tag dedicated to my character design sheets where I cram in symbolic shit in the designs and over-explain every aspect! (Here's the tag if anyone's interested, probably not but hey, shameless self-plug) If someone like me can't find anything to go insane over about an in-universe novel or story, that's dire! That's so fucking dire! I'm someone who looks at smth ppl say “isn't that deep” and grabs a shovel to make it That Deep. Do you fucking realize. How bad it is that I can't find any narrative significance for stories and storytelling. In a series about making books. Do you understand. Do you fucking understand.

On the note of grabbing a shovel to make things That Deep, yeah let's talk about that. People wish I was actually talking about the themes of the story, engage with them, instead of throwing it all in the trash. Which, yeah, fair!

Except it's not because that's literally what I'm trying to do.

What the everloving fuck did you people think I was doing when I published that post? I was trying to talk about it, from the perspective of someone whose country was colonized by Japan, trying to engage with it from my perspective, trying to get people to critically think about and engage with it too instead of blindly accepting the story's biases, trying to offer my perspective which is of someone who doesn't worship AoB and doesn't immediately shut down criticism of the stories I like because I can't pretend people ever disliking it for legitimate reasons. What is this if not me talking about it? Also, to tell one critic to not just chug the entire thing into the trash and to tell another critic to just stop reading... Pick a lane, y'all. Pick a fucking lane. (In the first place you could've chosen to not read the anti-FerMyne post, yeah it wasn't tagged but there's a summary above the cut that said “IT'S BAD” like what did you think the content under the cut was gonna be. What the fuck did you think it was gonna be.

In the first place people kinda seem self-admitting that they care about nothing outside of the romance-not-romance in AoB, as it doesn't occur to them that someone could be continuing to read the series for other characters they liked, other plot points, anything at all outside of the main romance— The romance only became explicit in the last two volumes, before that it's completely possible to think that the series is not going to end with them getting together if you have an entire fandom gaslighting you into thinking Myne is aro.)

(But then again maybe it's not so out of left field that these people cannot fathom anyone staying for anything outside of FerMyne— people have loudly admitted to hating the version of Myne that existed before she met Ferdinand— since there really isn't much to sink your teeth into except if you like ranting your tongue off about the characters canon either neglects or retcons or tries so hard to make hateable)

(Like I said, not a speck of respect for stories in “a story about literature”)

Anyways, I have never once seen a fandom so resistance to criticism, critical discussion, and anything of the sort like AoB fandom is. Well, except for Moriarty the Patriot but being compared to that fandom isn't a favor because they would aggressively try to chase dissenters out. I would know. I was one of the targets for a mass Twitter campaign. AoB fandom... is shaping up to look like that.

Like, my Naruto mutuals and I have been talking about financial abuse holding supplies hostage dehumanization sexual exploitation misogyny in the narrative etc and the FMA poc community is in a corner discussing narrative framings of Scar and the importance of named characters and individual wrath vs justified anger at the system and how the series mishandled Ishvalans and AoB is just here incapable of understanding that any of it is bigoted, or that AoB has racist/classist/xenophobic themes going on. Beyond a token acknowledgement of there being a “sprinkle” of racist/classist themes in AoB, nobody here ever openly talks about those themes, never criticizes them profusely like there exists thriving critics communities in other fandoms— probably for fear of being ostracized, lol.

To that, I borrow some quotes from the ever lovely Dr. Bret C. Devereaux, an ancient and military historian who currently teaches as a Teaching Assistant Professor at North Carolina State University:

George R. R. Martin: The Dothraki were actually fashioned as an amalgam of a number of steppe and plains cultures… Mongols and Huns, certainly, but also Alans, Sioux, Cheyenne, and various other Amerindian tribes… seasoned with a dash of pure fantasy.

Dr. Bret C. Devereaux: But at the same time, a ‘dash’ only goes so far; if I ask you to add a ‘dash’ of pepper to a recipe and the end product comes back 51% pepper by mass, we need not debate semantics to understand that something has gone really rather wrong.

Dr. Bret C. Devereaux: It seems that our ‘dash of pure fantasy’ has turned from a little bit of salt to flavor the meal into a barrel of salted fish with with all the fish removed.

Dr. Bret C. Devereaux: We might say he has added ‘dashes’ of pure fantasy until the ‘dash’ is the entire soup, but the truth is clearly the reverse: Martin has sprinkled a little bit of water on a barrel of salt and called it just a dash of salt.

To read this wonderfully graceful and eloquent episode of this historian shredding GRRM: here ya go, tis the link.

I wish I could be as eloquent as him. Oh, well, one day.

Forgive me if I seem condescending or haughty by dragging in other better-written stories or a historian but AoB fans have been condescending to us in the first place— equating us to children, sweeping over our words and cultural backgrounds and experiences with “well yeah I need to check what the Experts say first” and trying to de-legitimize any of our arguments with “well clearly you're just not paying attention because Japan is culturally different and you're just ignorant on How Things Are Over There” well newsflash asshole the only two critics in this entire fandom tag are both Asian too! Japan wrecked our countries! I brought up something Japan did, something that it continues to deny to this day and something that many Asian countries are still affected from, shouldn't that count at least on some level as paying attention to whatever mystical “cultural differences” y'all insist we're willfully ignoring? Aren't y'all the ones consistently ignoring and trying to shut up our voices and criticisms? “Is it racist to have your only prominent foreign country be a mishmash of Asian-coded brown people whose only traits are being violent killer rapists and who your white protagonists kill all of before sealing off the border from the foreign invaders” is absolutely entry-level “Can you recognize xenophobic sentiments in media” critical thinking! I can't believe I'm having to say this! What Japan did isn't even some niche distant mystical “Asian history”, it's World War II history. The fact that people are so willing to excuse ableism and xenophobia and anything like that with “b-b-but cultural differences!” is xenophobic in of itself. Is Japan a fucking alien planet? What makes you so vehemently defend the idea of Japan while trying to kill the voices of other Asians? Are we not Pale Enough for you or something?

What in this god damn novel series is so good, so worthy of these people stooping so low?

[amethystfairy1]

Ttsbc glamor, I have a few different questions about it because it's something very cool

What is the weakest type of species that has glamor? I know it changes depending on the person, like Tango glamor being weaker compared to the average blazeborn, but on average, who has the weakest glamor?

Can you change the speed at how fast you can shoot glamor out of your hands? We know it can be shot as fast lighting bullets to play tag, and they can be normal bullets.

Can you change the size of the bullet of glamor you shoot (I'm going to assume you can but still)

Can you slowly release glamor, so it's like a trail? Kinda like when Disney Channel will take the magic wand and draw micky mouses head, then it will show up ?? (Or like produce fireworks type of design in the air using glamor?

Can you shoot glamor using other body parts besides your hands? (For example, your eyes or your toes?)

When glamor releases from the hand outwards, does that glamor slowly fade as it goes through the air, or does it stay the same strength until it hits impact with something? Also, what happens once the bolt of glamor hits something? Does it hit the object and splat, then fade, or does it hit like a bullet, and the impact will slow it down, then it fades out?

Does glamor leave marks? Like, I think you said it can leave bruises and stuff, but do the bruises look a little different than normal? (If your glamor malfunctions and you try and shoot it out, can you bruise your fingers?)

When you use glamor to hide body parts that don't want to be seen does it fade from top to bottem, bottem to top, fades everything at the same time or does it not fade at all and it just disappears like it was never there?

Why does the under city only have glamor and the over city doesn't? I know that the under city finds it important but what did they do for it to happen??

One last question about glamor (hopefully) if a human is holding a hybrid/mutant hand, can that human use their glamor?

I hope these questions made sense (I tend to get sidetracked while writing asks this long), but I wish you well, and I hope you have an amazing day/night/eve!

(One last extra question!)

Did the old main lab scientist from the under city work with the over city? Like the under city does the experiments to keep over city out of trouble and the over city gives them the stuff they need to do the bio technology and they trade out information??

Questions questions questions...

I took awhile to answer this because I wanted to think about it and make sure the answers all lined up and made sense! If I'm vague anywhere keep in mind I do still plan to expand on some of these worldbuildy bits in the stories themselves so I don't wanna spoil everything! 😆

There isn't just one specific subspecies that's much weaker than others, it's more that there's certain subspecies who are particularly good with glamor (blaze-borns, voidwalkers, mushroom mutants) and everyone else hangs around an average. Some subspecies have special skills to do with glamor that are unique to them though! Blaze-borns manipulated fire, avians and butterfly hybrids manipulating weight, that sort of thing...also keep in mind because glamor can't pass through inorganic material people like Doc or Cleo who have large parts of their bodies replaced with augmentations can't use glamor very well!

I mean, I'm sure they could change the density of the glamor bullet and therefore change the speed!

Yes, if you're skilled enough with glamor (like Grian) you can most certainly manipulate the size/affect/color of your glamor! But that's a skill that's on the upper end of glamor ability, Grian is uniquely very very talented with the stuff!

Again, if you're talented enough, have enough glamor, and you've practiced that particular skill, sure you could!

Yes! Once more, it's a talent + practice scenario! It's easiest to use glamor with your hands or fingertips because...I mean, that's where you'd be the most coordinated, but if you wanted to fire from another part of your body you could if you had enough glamor and practiced that specific skill!

Depends on the shooter and what they were trying to do! Grian's bullets as Cute Guy make impact like paintballs! Again though it's the talent + skill + practice scenario, glamor is very versatile and malleable if you've got enough of it and practice a lot!

If a glamor bullet strikes someone it'll leave a bruise like a paintball would! It's the same as any old bruise, the size and how bad it is depends on how powerful the glamor bullet!

It's like heat haze on tarmac! That's my favorite way of describing it in the stories anyway. I also often say that it's like fog growing denser and then turning clear. So basically the haze of glamor, which is tinted the persons natural glamor color, fogs over whatever they want to hide and then fades away, and the thing they wanted to hide won't be visible anymore!

They just have it! They didn't do anything, they've just always had it as long as anyone can remember! It's a trait unique to hybrids/mutants!

Nope! Humans can't use glamor! Hybrids can use their glamor to affect humans, see Jimmy concealing Scott when they went to the under-city together or Grian shooting human criminals with glamor bullets to knock them out, but humans cannot use glamor, no matter what!

No problem! It's neat to try and pick apart the power system a bit, and I want to make it clear that glamor is also something of a catch-all term for powers in the under-city. Tango being able to light things on fire is considered glamor. Shelby's glowing mushroom cap is considered glamor. Voidwalkers purple particles are considered glamor. It's not something that has a super solid set of rules because everyone learns to manipulate it in their own way to suit their needs!

The example I've given before is athletics...if you train super super super hard at a sport, you're going to get quite skilled at it, but you'll always be held back by your physical capabilities. By talent + practice + skill I mean that you need to be born with the capacity for highly skilled glamor usage, you need to practice those particular things to get good at them, and then you need to hone the skills over time! Grian's glamor bullets are a great example. He can manipulate them to kill or stun, he can change their size, density, and color, and he can fire them off in pretty quick succession. He needed to start out with having the glamor capacity to do that, but he also needed to practice and hone that skill!

As for that little bonus questions, I don't wanna confirm or deny anything to do with any relationships between the over-city and under-city in any capacity beyond what we've already seen, it's all spoiler territory and I promise we'll get into that as the AU continues to grow! I've got big plans! 😉

[rookfeatherrambles]

PART 2 OF THE ENDKISSED AU!!!

Since y'all wanted more :D

Soooo here ya go! Also there was like one person who wanted to be tagged??? @cool-person-yey

Martin delivers Jon his groceries whenever he calls, whatever he needs, rain or shine. He seems to have made it his personal goal to get to know the stranger on the cliff side lighthouse home.

And he does, little by little, that wariness in Jon's eyes disappears when he sees Martin at his door, and then he smiles, and Martin thinks its like the sun, warm and soft and bright. Eventually, he starts wearing his hair down as well, and Martin's daydreams seamlessly add in brushing its salt and pepper length with his fingers or a comb. Martin learns that Jon is an aspiring writer, that he likes his tea different every time and because he has no real expertise in making it, Jon has drunk some truly bizarre concoctions. Jon invites him inside and sits with him on the sofa, and at some point while the man talks animatedly about something or other while dressed in an oversized sweater (Martin wishes it was his own) and a long lace trimmed skirt, he comes to the conclusion he's falling for Jon. There's just one problem. Jon is clearly running from something. Martin never pushes, but Jon gets ... Uncomfortable any time his past gets brought up.

And then, on a day of Jon's usual grocery delivery, the call Martin expects to get doesn't come at its normal time. Thinking perhaps Jon just got sidetracked with his writing, Martin loads up his truck with all of Jon's usual sundries, plus a few new teas and snacks he had specially ordered for Jon to try out, free of charge. When he drives up the rocky road, he sees a sleek grey sedan parked outside Jon's house, and a man, and Jon, having what appears to be a heated argument in the doorway. Alarm bells go off in Martin's head when the stranger, an older man in a style of clothes that reeks of money, grabs Jon's forearm to pull him close and say something to him. Martin slams the door shut as he makes himself known, and Jon's eyes flick up at the sound. He looks scared.

"Hey Jon, is everything alright?" Martin asks, striding up with a big smile on his face. He's well aware of his size compared to the stranger, and knows that if anything happens, he'll come out on top. Hauling and stacking boxes of goods has lent him muscle as well as fat.

The man speaks for Jon though, affecting a very insincere smile of his own. "Everything is just fine. I was just catching up with my wife, whom I have not seen in quite some time."

Everything about the man screams red flags to Martin, and he opens his mouth, but Jon beats him to it. "Ex-wife," he replies archly, and pulls his wrist from the man's grip. "Everything's fine, Martin. He was just leaving."

Jon's ex-husband's eyes are cold. "I'm so happy you've found a cozy little town to hide away in, Jon. This place is just like you. I will have to call again soon." And then, he leaves.

Martin brings up Jon's groceries, and when he's finished, he opens his mouth to ask. But Jon just sinks into a chair and shakes his head. "Please, Martin... Don't?" Martin takes Jon's hands and holds them in his, and they just sit there, for the longest time.

Then Jon gets up, and kisses Martin, who holds him and kisses back Jon lets out a sound and pulls away, anguished tears in his eyes. "I thought I could do this. I can't. Martin, please leave. I'm sorry."

Martin doesn't get another call for four weeks.

To be continueeeeeed??????~