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strang3lov3 · 8 months

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GameStop

Summary: Mall Rats 4! (Can be read alone or, catch up with the mallrats in my masterlist) Joel tells you not to fuck with the Nintendo he stole from GameStop. His one rule. You fuck with it. That’s okay, though. Joel makes you play Mario with his fingers knuckle deep inside you.

Warnings: JOEL IS WEARING GRAY SWEATPANTS THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL🚨‼️ fingering, teasing, edging, orgasm denial blowjobs, unprotected piv, creampie, jjoel is so tender and such a dick, arguing, inglewood up to no good, domestic moments, minor injuries, when will these two fucking kiss!?? Idk

W/C: 4.6k

A/N: thank you very much @papipascalispunk i appreciate you taking the time to edit this. I love you so much. did you know that? And everyone else, do you know how much I love y’all for reading and engaging? I do. In case you didn’t know already 🥰

Joel stands in front of your house early afternoon on Saturday, a box of cords and plastic in one hand as he urgently knocks on your door, “Open up,” he barks, “This shit’s heavy.”

“Fuck,” you groan, walking up to your front door wearing nothing but an ill-fitting t-shirt and some old boxers. You can see Joel waiting impatiently through the window. You open the door and squint at Joel, the daylight too bright for your eyes, “What do you want, Joel?”

“Need to use your TV,” he demands, stepping inside your home and placing a hand on your hip to move you aside, “Move.”

“Why?”, you resist.

Joel motions toward his box with an annoyed expression on his face and your eyes light up. “Oh yeah,” you say, leading Joel to your living room where he sits in front of your old and boxy television, flipping up panels and tinkering with buttons before plugging in cords, “Can I play too? Will you show me how?”

“If you listen to me, maybe,” Joel mumbles as he’s setting up the console before turning to you, “Are you gonna be good and listen to me?”

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Figures.”

You didn’t listen yesterday, either. You never do.

Something had caught your eye and you went ahead of Joel, something he absolutely hates. He tells you your place is next to him or behind him. He leads. You follow.

“Would you quit fuckin’ wanderin’, Inglewood?”, Joel hissed at you in the second level of the mall, “I give ya an inch, ya take a mile.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why do you call me that?”

“Cause you’re always up to no good.”

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“I know you don’t,” Joel sighed.

An odd clicking noise startled you both. It wasn’t quite that signature sound of a clicker, but it was enough to set you both off. You turned to Joel with wide eyes, and he reflexively pulled you close, one hand over your mouth and his other arm wrapped around your waist. Behind me, he mouthed.

You nodded and took your place behind Joel, heart pounding in your chest. He walked forward slowly before stopping, pulling out his gun and his flashlight. In front of him was a dark silhouetted figure, something he couldn’t quite make out. It stood in front of a store with a broken sign, white and red glass lettering shattered. As he tiptoed closer with you following close behind, his eyes began to piece more things together. The figure was unmoving, and upon closer inspection it looked to be wearing almost…tactical gear? Was it FEDRA? He wondered what the clicking noise was. Probably just the mall deteriorating. If there were infected in the mall, they would have shown themselves by this point.

The figure stayed still, unmoving. Finally, Joel saw it. On the figure’s chest read, ‘Call of Duty: Out October 29, 2003’. Joel let out a breath of relief and put his gun down, “False alarm,” he said. “Wait.”

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked as he took quick steps toward the unmarked store. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice, “Get your ass over here. Follow me. First good thing in this godforsaken mall. Do you know what this is?”

“You know I don’t know what this is.”

Joel explained that it was a GameStop. They used to sell video games and stuff, had all sorts of fun things. He looked like a kid in a candy shop, stealing consoles and cartridges and gushing about how much he loved these games long ago.

When you and Joel had returned from the mall, he practically sprinted into Ellie’s room, setting up their shared TV with a PlayStation and introducing her to some games. Ellie was ecstatic, and Joel knew she and the TV would be inseparable.

Which leads him here, to your house, in front of your TV.

“So I take it Ellie’s excited about the games and stuff you got her?”, you ask amused.

Joel fumbles with a controller to a Nintendo Entertainment System. “Big time,” he says. “They’re attached at the hip. So I’m commandeering your TV for today.”

“You could’ve asked, you know,” you tease, “I would’ve given it to you, asshole.”

“Don’t need you to give me nothin’. Just here to use your TV for a bit,” as he draws the curtains in your room, turns on your TV and adjusts the input, then sits back on your couch, legs outstretched on your coffee table, “It’s more fun when I take it from ya, anyway.”

You wonder if Joel gets physically ill at the thought of being polite, being kind to you. Nothing’s ever easy with him. He’s always ready to argue, ready to instigate. You roll your eyes, then leave Joel to take a shower and get dressed. You’re not sure what you were planning on doing on this Saturday, but video games with Joel seems to be your fate.

By the time you have showered, Joel has already been playing for nearly 2 hours. You dress yourself in some comfy sweatpants and a hoodie, expecting to hunker down in front of the TV with Joel all day. You can hear the soft music from the video game from your room and Joel’s strings of expletives, or his cheers, depending on what’s happening in the game. You make a couple of sandwiches, some sliced apples, and pour a couple of glasses of water before you greet Joel in the living room. Standing in front of the TV, you watch as Joel tries to continue playing. There’s a little guy wearing a red hat, jumping over blocks and stomping on mushrooms. He makes a cute little ‘boing’ noise when he jumps, and the music playing in the background is playful, melodic.

“Sweetheart, y’make a better door than a window. Get out of the way,” he gruffs. Joel’s got some fucking nerve today. He could have just kindly asked you to move. Tauntingly, you wiggle your ass in front of him, so he reaches over the coffee table and smacks it, “What’d I say about listening? Do you wanna play the game or not?” With Joel’s eyes still transfixed on the TV in front of you, you sit down next to him and place your two plates on the coffee table. “Everyday it’s somethin’ with you. Always tryin’ to get under my skin, always-”, Joel’s voice trails off as he glances at his plate, “Did you make me a sandwich?”

You shrug, “You’re extra cranky today. Figured you could use a snack.”

“I’m not cranky,” Joel argues, “And I don’t need you makin’ me any snacks. Can make my own food.”

“Okay,” you say, eating your own food, “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna shove it down your throat.”

Joel stays focused on his game until he hears the crunch of you biting into a slice of apple. “Wait, are those apple slices?”, he asks in a low tone.

“Mhm.”

“You didn’t happen to cut any up for me, did you?”

“I did. Sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on top,” you smile proudly.

You watch Joel grumble to himself and play the game silently until he beats the level he’s on, then he pauses the game and sets his controller down. He picks up his plate of food and eats a couple of apple slices before inspecting his sandwich, “Did you poison this?”

“No, not the sandwich. The apples, yes. Don’t you taste the rat poison?”

Joel rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his sandwich, “Gonna have to try harder than that, sweetheart. Up the dose next time. Tasty sandwich, though.”

“Noted,” you smile. Joel smiles too, almost imperceptibly, but you see it, the sparkle in his eyes and the way his face lit up when you told him you sliced up some apples for him too.

“Tell me about your game.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, “It’s Mario. You don’t know Mario?”, and you shake your head no. “Jesus…you age me,” Joel takes another bite of his sandwich before continuing, “Mario’s a video game. Super Mario Brothers. He has a brother, Luigi. They’re plumbers and they fight Bowser to save Princess Peach. So that’s what I’m doin’ here,” Joel motions to the TV, “Savin’ Peach. Eventually.”

“Is it hard?”, you ask.

“Kinda. Haven’t played in forever. But Tommy and I’d play all the time. Were always fightin’ over the damn Nintendo,” Joel chuckles, “Drove Mom fuckin’ nuts.”

“Maybe we should invite him over then,” you muse.

“Nah,” Joel says, “Just me and you today.”

You smile, “Just us?”

Joel nods, finishing the last of his sandwich and his apple slices, “Unfortunately.” He stretches his legs and his arms out long, then rubs his soft belly with a groan. “You’re trouble,” he tells you, “Tryna’ make me fat. I’m gonna go home and change into something cozier - jeans are fuckin’ tight.”

“Bet I could make them tighter,” you bite your lip and nudge his thigh.

“That’s a nice offer. You’re a charmer, Inglewood. Maybe later.” You huff as Joel picks up both of your plates and walks them to your kitchen sink, scrubbing and drying each one before pulling on his jacket. He walks back over to where you sit on the couch and points to the TV and his Nintendo, “Do not touch this,�� he says, “It doesn’t have a memory card. So if you fuck with it, my progress is gone. Don’t unplug nothin’, don’t touch the TV, don’t–”.

“What if I–”.

Joel doesn’t let you get another word out, “Nope. Don’t do that either. Just leave it be, sit pretty and behave yourself. I’ll be back soon.”

You scoff and cross your arms as Joel leaves while staring at the paused screen of Joel’s game, then flicker your eyes lower to the controller Joel left on the coffee table. He didn’t say anything about playing the game. What’s the worst that could happen?

You reach for the controller and begin messing with the buttons, playing with the D-pad until the screen changes and you press ‘Start Game’.

The game starts. It catches you off guard. You fumble with the buttons until you figure out how to make Mario move, how to make him jump. A couple times you hit an angry looking mushroom and he dies. You snicker to yourself. Figures. Before you know it, you’ve passed Level 1-1 and you’re onto Level 1-2.

Level 1-2 comes and goes, and then Joel’s back at your door. You pause the game as he lets himself in. You wear a mischievous smile when you see him in his gray sweats and a t-shirt – your weakness. You can see the outline of his dick in those pants, and it sends a pang of arousal to your core. “Well don’t you look handsome,” you purr.

“Pipe down, horndog,” Joel sits down on the couch next to you. Before he can reach for the controller, you slide your hand over one of his thick thighs and palm his bulge, then slip your hand under the waistband of his pants and play with his cock. He sighs as you stroke him, his sweet sounds getting you all hot and bothered. His cock is thick and warm, half hard and growing harder, but he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. “Later,” he reminds you, “C’mon. I know you can wait. I don’t have much of the game left to play.”

“Okay,” you mumble. You scoot closer to Joel as he picks up the controller, wrapping your arm around his and resting your head on his bicep. You squeeze your thighs together tightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure at your core. He tries to shake you off of him, but you don’t budge. “I’m cold, Joel,” you protest.

“So get a blanket. I ain’t your heater,” he complains, but you feel him relax with your touch, snuggling up to you a little closer like maybe he’s cold too, “God, you make me nuts.”

You say nothing as Joel reaches for the controller, presses a couple buttons before the game starts again. He starts playing, then squints and furrows his brows. “Woah, woah, woah,” he says, “This ain’t right. What - why - what happened? Did you touch this? Tell me you didn’t touch this.”

“I didn’t touch it,” you lie.

Joel turns to you and glares, “What. Did. You. Do.”

“I tried out your game,” Joel continues glaring at you and you raise your arms in surrender, “What?”

Joel cups your cheeks in both of his big hands and shakes your head gently, “Why would you do that?”

“You told me not to unplug anything. I didn’t unplug anything.”

“I also told you not to touch anything,” Joel groans, “Do you know how long it took me to beat those levels?”

“Just pick up where you left off, Joel.”

“I told ya, it doesn't work like that. No memory card, no progress. I have to start over now,” Joel whines, “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“Beats me,” you say, “But–”, you take one of Joel’s hands from his controller and suck his fingers before slipping it under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Now we can get down to brass tacks. Hmm?”

“One rule,” Joel hisses as cups your mound, “I gave you one fuckin’ rule.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But now that you’re not playing Mario anymore, you can make me come. And then I’ll make you come. And you’ll forget you were ever mad at me.”

Joel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to you, his eyes now mischievously lit up. “You’re right,” he says, “I’m not playing Mario anymore. You are.” He places the controller in your hands, “I told you I wanted to beat the game, and mayb then I’d fuck ya. So now you’re gonna get me back to where I was so I’ll finish up the game, and maybe, maybe after that, I’ll fuck you. Cause I’m not doin’ all of this again. I’ve got other games I wanna play too.”

“Piece of cake,” you reply confidently. Though really, playing Mario is harder than it looks.

“Oh, really? Is it that easy?”, Joel says, raising his eyebrows in amusement at your confidence as you nod, “If ya say so. I thought you said it’s harder than it looks. Whatever. Go on, then.” Situating yourself next to Joel, you adjust your grip on the controller. Joel’s hand is still beneath your pants, fingers resting against your lips. You look at him, wondering if he’ll pull his hand away. “You put it there,” he says. “It’s stayin’.”

Whatever. You start the game feeling confident in yourself, and then Mario hits a mushroom and he shrinks. And then he hits another mushroom, and he dies. Joel hums in amusement and you shove your elbow into his side. “I didn’t say anything,” he smirks.

It takes you about ten minutes to get the hang of it, but eventually you do. When you start a new level, Joel presses two of his fingers against your pussy and it startles you. Mario hits a turtle and he shrinks again. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”

Dragging his fingers up and down your folds at a leisurely pace, Joel shrugs, “Nothin’.” He’s definitely not doing “nothing”. It’s getting harder to focus now, and you’re making mistakes, getting hit by enemies, missing those little mushroom power ups that come at you every so often. You huff in frustration, and Joel chuckles to himself, “You suck, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, Joel.”

He presses the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, pushes inside before pulling his finger back out and dragging it up to your clit, smirking when your breath hitches in your throat, “Do you need some help? Pointers, maybe?”

“No,” you grit, “Shut up, Joel.”

“Hmm, alright,” he hums, his thick fingers now circling your sensitive bud. You can feel his intense gaze on you as you play the game, squashing Mario’s enemies to the best of your ability, but you were right the first time, it’s harder than it looks. Joel turns his attention back to the TV, “Hit that box with the question mark.” You raise your eyebrow in suspicion. It’s probably a trap. With Joel, it’s always a trap. “Watch what happens,” he instructs, so you hit the box and a flower emerges. Joel tells you to jump on it, so you do. Warily, though. Mario changes outfits. “There you go. Now if you press B,” he taps the other button on the controller, “You can shoot those guys with a fireball. Try it out.”

Mario does in fact shoot fireballs at the enemies. This advantage makes the game come along smoother, so Joel ups the ante, drawing tight circles into your clit. “Joel,” you moan, “Quit it. You’re distracting me.”

“Thought you wanted me to make you come,” Joel taunts.

“I do, but not like thi–fuck–Joel, stop.”

“Tough luck,” Joel responds, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

You do your best to ignore the sensation of Joel touching you, but it’s hard. He knows exactly where to touch you, how to touch you to make you squirm and moan for him. You have to fight yourself to keep your eyes from rolling back when Joel pushes two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out for a moment before abruptly curling them upward, hitting that sweet spot he knows and loves. “Jesus, Joel,” you moan, accidentally pressing the lower end of the D-pad. On the TV, Mario slides down a pipe and is brought to a new area. He’s able to run across the top of the screen, then finds an area with a bunch of pipes called the Warp Zone. This changes the game. You’re able to skip levels, making this whole thing go by even quicker. You’ll be on your way to fuck town in no time.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna figure that out,” Joel rubs his thumb over your clit as he fucks you with his two middle and ring fingers. You’re able to find a couple more pipes that allow you to go to Warp Zones, which doesn’t require quite as much focus on the screen. You allow yourself to savor the way Joel touches you, that warmth building up in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you moan. That familiar edge begins to creep up just as you’re finishing another level. Your breathing quickens, your pussy dripping and gushing with every movement of Joel’s thick fingers. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–”.

“Thanks sweetheart. That was a big help,” Joel yanks the controller from you with his free hand, then pulls the other away from your core. Now that you’ve gotten him to where he left off in the game, he focuses all of his attention on the TV, as if he was never touching you.

“Are you serious?”, you’re in disbelief but Joel doesn’t answer, “Joel, I was about to–”.

“I know.”

You scoff, “Fuck you, man.”

“Yeah, I know you wanna. But I told you, you gotta wait til I’m done. You’re very forgetful, you know that?”

Frustrated, you shove your hand under your sweats and pick up where Joel left off. He clears his throat, “You can play with your pussy, or I can. Pick one but we’re not doin’ both. It’s up to you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. This is bullshit. Joel can take control of your TV, but not your pleasure. You watch him in astonishment, how he pays you no mind as he plays the game. His eyes are glazed over and his lips slightly parted, deep in focus. It’s like you’re not even there. You lower your eyes from his face to his lap where his fingers move deftly, still slick and shiny with your juices. His thumbs dart back and forth over the D-pad and the buttons, and you wish he was still touching you like that. Expertly, with dedication and precision. And then it catches your eye – the tent in his sweatpants, that little spot of dampness where his head rests against the fabric. He’s fucking rock hard from playing with you, leaking precome. You’re impressed with Joel’s ability to ignore his own arousal. Good for him. You, however, won’t ignore it.

In a swift maneuver, too quick for Joel to even process, you pull down his sweats and let his cock spring free, setting the waistband under his heavy balls. You don’t even think, you just do it – lifting up his arm, you dive under and grip the base of his cock. You guide his tip to your mouth, swirling your tongue around his swollen head before letting it part your lips. Joel groans, “Think you can play dirty too, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against him.

“Knock yourself out,” he tells you, “You’re forgettin’ I have something you don’t – self control, my darlin’.”

You don’t care. This is more for you than it is for him, anyway. You haven’t gotten to taste him yet and it’s been on your mind. He tastes heady, salty, and slightly sweaty on your tongue. He’s warm and thick, you like the way his cock feels in your mouth. His smooth skin, how he squirms when you slide his cock to the back of your throat.

Joel groans as you work his shaft, one hand gripping his base, the other fondling his balls. You hum against him, sending vibrations down his shaft. He rests the sides of his hands on your head as he plays with the controller, pushing you further down on his cock. “Last level,” he tells you. You suck him mindlessly as he plays, listening to Joel hissing expletives. You smirk with him in your mouth knowing which of his curses are directed at you and which are directed at the TV.

Joel’s cock stiffens and twitches, he’s getting closer. You know it and so does he. “You know,” he says in a soft, warning tone, “If ya make me come, you’re shit outta luck. Can’t fuck you.”

Oh, shit. You weren’t even thinking about that. You pull your mouth off of him instantaneously, smacking your head against his controller and sending it flying out of his hands. “Fuck,” Joel barks.

The controller lands upside down on the corner of your coffee table, the buttons hitting the edge just so, and Joel watches in horror as Mario disappears from the TV and is replaced by the main menu.

You rub your head where you hit it on the controller, but Joel is no longer staring at the TV in disbelief. Instead, he’s looking at you. “Shit. I’m sorry, Joel,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry.”

You expect Joel to be angry like usual, but he instead pulls your hand away from your scalp, lowers you so he can check the area you hit and give it a kiss, then lifts your chin back up while rubbing your bump. “It was an accident,” he speaks soothingly, “Mario can wait. Are you hurting?”

“Not terribly,” you tell him. And it’s the truth.

“No? You sure?” You shake your head no and Joel nods. He rubs your head for a little bit longer, his big brown eyes are soft and sweet and worrisome. The kindest he’s ever looked at you, kindest he’s ever been to you. And all you had to do was smack your head on his video game. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, then pulls you close and whispers quietly, “Would you still like me to fuck you? We don’t have to if you’re not up for it anymore.”

You grin and nod your head, “Yes, please. I want it.”

“Get your ass over here, then,” Joel says as he lifts your hips and pulls your pants off, then pulls his own further down his thighs. He guides you to straddle his lap, holding his cock loosely between his middle and index fingers and his thumb. He drags his tip through your folds, then notches himself at your entrance before pulling your hips down, burying himself in you all the way to the hilt.

You grip his shoulders and press your forehead to his own, sighing softly as you get adjusted to his girth. “I missed your cock,” you breathe, “Missed it so much.”

“I know you did, sweetheart. I missed you too.”

When you’ve adjusted, you begin to roll your hips, rubbing your clit against that soft patch of hair at the base of his cock, moaning and grunting softly, “Oh, Joel. Feels good.”

“I know it does,” he sighs as he leans forward to lift up your shirt and pulls it off of your body, then takes off his own, “That’s better.” He runs his thumbs over the soft curve of your tummy, then slides his hands up your rib cage before cupping your breasts, twisting and rolling your nipples.

The way he looks at you makes your cheeks feel hot. You lean forward to hide your face, grinding your hips into him. He holds you close to his body with his hands wrapping around your back before gripping your ass and bouncing you up and down on him, stretching and parting your insides. You allow yourself to rest against him, letting him do the work and take care of you. His cock feels incredible. So thick, so hard, hitting against all of your favorite spots. “So good, takin’ me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, “Ya always do.”

Joel squeezes your ass tighter. He can see your reflection in the TV, loving the way your body moves, how you tremble, how you rock your hips, how you whimper his name. It’s all for him. “Wanna, fuck,” he sighs, snaking his hand between your bodies as he finds your clit with his fingertips, rubbing circles around it, “Wanna make you come on my cock. Make those pretty noises for me.”

With Joel’s cock hitting you right where you need him, his fingers playing with your clit, it’s not long before your orgasm approaches. “Right there, Joel. Like that, just like that,” you moan breathlessly, “I’m gonna come for you.”

“Yeah, gimme a good one,” he says. He fucks you expertly, each of his thrusts deep and intentional. It’s all for you. He just wants to watch you come, hear you moan his name, feel you soak his cock. Your breaths quicken and your moans quiet as you near your climax, and you come with loud cries and moans. Joel pulls you close, fucking you through it as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. “Fuck,” he hisses rocking his hips into you once, twice, three more times before he comes with a groan, painting your insides with rope after rope of his hot seed.

You fall forward, resting your face against the couch as you both catch your breath. He rests his head next to you, looking deep into your eyes before flicking his gaze to your lips, then back up to your eyes. You stare at his lips too.

“Your head still okay?” he asks, “Smacked it real good.”

“Think so.”

“Gonna keep an eye on it anyway,” Joel whispers, “What am I gonna do with you, Inglewood, hmm?”, bringing his hand to your face and rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. You’re still staring at his lips. His pink, pouting lips that have never kissed your own.

“I’m not sure,” you murmur, “What do you think?”

Joel runs his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting go, “Haven’t got a clue.”

Joel leaves you to grab a warm wash rag and clean you up, then helps you back into your clothes. He reaches for the controller and starts up Super Mario Brothers one more time, and you snuggle his bicep like before. This time, he doesn’t try to move you.

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diorcities · 1 month

Text

⠀ ⠀ ── zｚＺ nct dream on reader calling them oppa.

nct dream sfw headcanon. *(삼촌 (samchon: uncle) library.

mark. he doesn't pay much attention to honorifics once he's friends with someone. besides, he's used to being called by you and haechan any variation of his name instead of his own, he finds makgeolli, mwork, markeuri funny, he just likes it more when you do it. but, the times you call him oppa he can't help but feel a certain way; somehow, it sounds endearing when you say it, but he wouldn't know how to tell you to do it more often without revealing too much about why. maybe he would joke about it, something like “dude, ah..., why don't you just call me oppa for once?” but hoping you would actually think about it.

jaemin. he wouldn't pay too much attention if you decide to call him by his name one day you realize you two are close, though he would feel like something is missing, he would feel weird until he realizes it's you, so he'd start referring to himself as oppa when you're around. “let oppa take care of it.” “oppa cooked you some meal.” he's the sweetest oppa ever. always taking care of you, making sure you're okay. acts super helpful. it's the way your voice sounds more tender when you refer to him than the rest, it makes him feel special; you make him feel special.

chenle. one time you heard him saying he likes it better when girls say his name... and last name. then you started calling him that way, and he didn't want to correct you at the time, so he went along with it because he doesn't care much if you use oppa or not..., right? when you start calling him by his first and last name, the boy thinks he's dying. he feels physically unwell. maybe he's exaggerated a bit that he doesn't care. constantly waiting for you to magically decide to call him oppa again without him having to intervene; it doesn't work and in the end he has to drop a super casual comment, “actually, i don't like how my name sounds in your mouth. call me oppa again.”

haechan. it's the only way you can get his attention. the guy acts like his name is neither lee haechan, nor lee donghyuck, nor dummy, brat, jerk... eventually you give in and he'd reply to you with the most condescending tone he has, “yes?” “you're unbelievable.” even though he wants to hide it, he actually melts when you use oppa when referring to him. it's a confidence boost for him. he would act overprotective in the future with you, and you would realize that it serves as a way for him to do what you ask.

jeno. it's a simple word that for obvious reasons he's heard it before, but why does he always expect you to call him that? somehow, hearing oppa from your lips is a heartwarming feeling knowing that you only call him that among the dreamies. poor guy, he'd spend all day wondering why him? why only him? “maybe she likes you.” jaemin would suggest after listening to him vent for a solid half hour. maybe, maybe..., his crescent eyes would widen in panic, “what if she's been calling me oppa in a brotherly way?”

renjun. if you are learning korean, then renjun would be the grammar rules policeman. just because what if you are talking to a stranger and you call them oppa? he'd emphasize that you should only call guys you consider close to you, like him, by that name. “what about your friends?” you may ask, “just call them by their full names, i guess,” he'd respond. ok, maybe he has offered to help you with your korean because every time you ask him something you always call him oppa as he takes this very seriously. “thank you, samchon!” uncle? uncle? there would be no way to describe his face other than grumpy. “you, brat!”

jisung. for the love of god, never call him that. nicknames, if you like. somehow, being called oppa makes him feel weird, especially if you do. it makes him nervous, it makes him sweat, it makes his stomach churn. maybe he's getting sick and doesn't know how to react to appear cool and chill. maybe he should tell you? why does he feel like he shouldn't? that it should be a secret what he feels? “hey, do you feel weird when yn calls you oppa?” he asks jeno; he somehow has the answer. “weird how?” “like you could explode if she keeps calling you that?” he looks at jeno in awe when he starts giggling, “doesn't that happen when you like someone?” oh. maybe. maybe that's it.

#nct dream fluff headcanons #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream soft hours #haechan fluff #mark fluff #jisung fluff #jaemin fluff #jeno fluff #renjun fluff #chenle fluff #♡dream

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jinhyun · 8 months

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just saw your post about the drabbles and if you could please write "you know what we are. you just want to hear me say it." with hyunjin i would love you forever (i would even if you didn't write it tho). thank you <3

- 💗

"What are we?"

"You know what we are" you smiled, looking up at him for a moment before your face was buried on his chest again. "You just want to hear me say it".

"Well, yes" Hyunjin pouted, tightening his hold around your waist as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Haven't heard you say it to your family all day".

You chuckled, but ultimately said nothing. Instead, you just took a deep breath and let yourself relax under the warmth of your boyfriend's touch.

It still felt surreal to call him that. Boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Having been friends most of your life, to the point that your family considered him to be another member of it and his family considered you a part of theirs, it surely felt like you were dreaming to get to call him that now, instead of just your best friend.

Then again, your family had been there when you first caught feelings for each other — catching on in the switch from platonic love to romantic feelings even before you did.

They had been there when the two of you finally realised your own feelings and started to faintly act on them.

They were there that night when you came back home squealing, after you went on a date neither of you dared to call as such and he softly kissed you by your doorstep.

They had been there through it all, and therefore, the term 'boyfriend' had become the rule to them when it came to what Hyunjin was to you.

No matter how many times you called them out on it, no matter how many times they almost slipped up in the presence of Hyunjin himself, and no matter how many times you told them you were still just friends, to them, Hwang Hyunjin was your boyfriend.

So, although you had only made it official a day ago, it hadn’t really crossed your mind to introduce him as such when your parents invited him over for lunch that Sunday, like it was usual by now.

"Are you telling them we're a couple now?" He mumbled.

This time, you couldn't help but giggle. "They've been referring to you as my boyfriend for like a month now".

Hyunjin smiled, having to bite his lip not to let out a breathy, incredulous laugh. "It's official now, though. So, you know… maybe…"

"You want to be introduced to them as my boyfriend?" You asked genuinely.

Pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him once more, you were met with his excited eyes before he nodded.

He had been your best friend for years now, and he wanted everyone to acknowledge the fact that he wasn't just that anymore.

He wanted to take pride in being called your boyfriend now, especially in front of your family.

Smiling over how cute he was, you leaned up to press your mouth on his — feeling him smile against your lips before he cupped your face and his thumbs traced the corners of your mouth.

Your lips only detached when you heard an obnoxious cough by the door, being met with your sister's inability to hide her very obvious smirk.

"Mum says to go outside with the rest of us" she quickly let you know before her eyes fixed on Hyunjin. "And our dad wants your help with the barbecue".

Hyunjin nodded, placing his hands on your wrists to undo your hold on him. "Yeah, of cou—"

"Just let me hug my boyfriend for a little longer" you pouted, paying no mind to his previous attempt of walking away to go help your dad, as you rested your cheek on his chest and your arms tightened around his body.

Your heart melted over the way Hyunjin's heartbeat sped up at the sound of your words, feeling it pound heavily against the side of your face; and a small giggle escaped your mouth when one second later you felt his arms wrap around your waist and his lips press a kiss to the crown of your head.

On the other hand, your sister rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Hurry up or I'm telling them you guys are taking too long because you're making out" she threatened as she turned around to walk away. "Not like they'd really care, but…"

Watching her disappear from your view, your eyes locked with Hyunjin's again. He looked just as amused as you were.

"She didn't even bat an eye" you confirmed your prediction.

"And apparently your parents wouldn't mind us making out in here?" He laughed incredulously.

"I told you it'd be no news to them".

Shaking his head in amusement as a soft chuckle escaped his lips, he leaned down to lock them with yours in a tender kiss. "It's okay".

Maybe having your family take him for your boyfriend already was just as good as you introducing him as such to them, if not better.

In the end, what mattered was that they knew you were together and that he wasn't just your best friend anymore, right?

He didn't need you to tell them what you were at all.

"Still want me to call you my boyfriend in front of my parents?" You mumbled against his mouth.

He snorted, pressing his lips to yours once more. "Absolutely".

#skz #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin reactions

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skylarsblue · 1 year

Text

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes✦

(Bros I'm so sorry, I've had the biggest fucking writer's block. I'm hoping some silly lil meme posts will make up for it until I can write something substantial, I'msosorry-)

Y/N: Some of us, I don’t wanna name names, give me a headache when they speak and its- Soap: Is it me?? Y/N: No. Graves: Is it me? Y/N: …it’s not Soap- --

Price: I’m gonna make you a soup. Gaz, delirious with the flu: I don’t wanna be a soup, Captain… Price: …right, how about I give you soup instead? Gaz: That’d be nicer. Price: Right. --

Soap: What the fuck knuckles is this? Valeria: *holding her hyper femme gf in her lap* She’s my girlfriend you intolerant shit. Soap: Whoa! Pump the hate brakes Fox & friends. I’m just surprised anyone would date you. Especially Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony. Y/N, on Valeria’s lap: You know that cartoon? Soap: No comment. Ghost: No, I think you should comment more, Johnny. Soap: NO. COMMENT. Moving on! Gaz: We’re gonna circle back to that. --

Graves: I think the term you’re searching for is ‘current captain’. Ghost: The words I’m searching for, I can’t say. Because there’s a rookie *motions to Soap* present. Soap: No no, say it. I can handle it. Ghost: You sure? Soap: Absolutely, L.T. Ghost: *looks at Graves* Fucking donkey lookin’ muppet bitch. Soap: Brutal blow, sir. Well done. --

Y/N: *comes in* Hey, Gaz, how old is your captain? Gaz: What? Y/N: No not like that…it is, it is like that. How old is he? I came into base, he asked if I needed anything to eat. I said ‘eat what’? Gaz: Okay, first of all, put my plate down and stop hitting on my captain! Y/N: Don’t get mad at me! I don’t even wanna be here. Y’all the ones that want me to be here. --

NPC: Ohhh if I weren’t a lady, I’d deck you! Fem!Y/N: Oh please. Try it and I’d have you on your back so fast you’d think you’re on a date. Ghost: *spits tea* Price, covered in tea: That was so unnecessary- --

Ghost: Mmph. Y/N: Dark room, avoidant, you seem tired despite sleeping for awhile…you wanna try and get out in the sun or do you just need to be in the sadness dungeon? Ghost: *holds up two fingers* Y/N: Would you like some tea for the sadness dungeon? Ghost: …Mhm. Y/N: Tea for the sad dragon coming up! Ghost: Mmph. (Aka “thank you”) Y/N: No problem! --

Y/N: Ya know sometimes there’s times in life where you just have to sit back and go, “ya know what? I’m proud of myself.” Gaz: Is this one of those times? Y/N: No- Soap: *wheeze* --

(Shibari reference)

Price: …alright, when I said we needed to restrain him in a way that ensured he couldn’t get out. This is not- Gaz: These are not military knots. Y/N: No, they aren’t. You all suggested knots that he would know how to get out of. You told me to get rid of that possibility. So, I did. Soap: He is tied…to the ceiling. Ghost: You kinky bitch. Y/N: *shrug* Price: Where did you even learn this? Y/N: That is for me and my daddy issues to know, sir. Don’t worry about it. Just wake him up so we can start interrogating him.

Graves: We can rule the world! Ghost: *turns to leave* Graves:: *watches him pull out something of Y/N’s* Graves: WH-YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FUCK MY WIFE Graves: GHOST. G H O S T Ghost: *leaves* --

Graves: Let me log into Twitter- WAIT, IS THAT GHOST’S DICK!?! Ghost: I fucked your wife. Graves: AGGHHHHHH- --

Medic!Y/N: Don’t torture yourself Ghost. *snips bandage* Medic!Y/N: That’s my job.~ Ghost, internally: Stayfocusedwecannot- --

Price: We’re you listening to me at all? Y/N: No I was fantasizing about beard burn. Price: Pardon? Y/N: Huh? --

Ghost: He died of natural causes. Gaz: You pushed him off the roof. Ghost: Gravity is natural. --

Y/N: Nuh Uh, no. I’m not doing it. I have self respect, and I will not stoop so low as to- Gaz: *brings out 100£.* Y/N: -oooooo*takes money* I’ll have it done in an hour. --

Soap, looking at Konig: That man is a tree. Y/N: Then I'm a fucking squirrel. Soap: On the hunt for nuts then? Y/N: Famished for them. Ghost: Why do I sit with you two...

#call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #konig #cod konig #john price #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #phillip graves #valeria el sin nombre garza #incorrect cod quotes #incorrect quotes #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare

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nrdmssgs · 1 year

Text

Tips to write for König (language)

Masterlist Let's go! But first important disclaimer

I know well, that Konig is from Austria and German language is a bit different from Austrian. The only reason, I'm doing this list for German language instead of Austrian: I know German well enough to personally check every phrase on my list. I live in southern Germany since 2019 and understand written Austrian, but would not venture to make a similar list for phrases in Austrian.

These phrases are not headcanons - just useful helpers for my fellow ficwriters!

I`ve tried to keep this list SFW, so there is no really kinky stuff or any swear words. But if you guys are interested - I can try to bring such a naughty list together as well.

Neither English nor German are my first languages, so there's a possibility of a mistake always.

Thank you to absolutely beautiful soul @konigsblog for encouraging me doing this.

So, you want König to speak German in your story, but don't know how to get him to? There is nothing easier.

(very) Ground rules

All nouns, names (and nicknames) are always capitalized.

Here are a few useful letters, so that you don't search for them on your keyboard: ä, ö, ü, Ä, Ö, Ü.

"my/your + masculine noun" = mein/dein + noun or name (e.g. Mein Horangi)

"my/your + feminine noun" = meine/deine + noun or name (e.g. Meine Josephine)

"chen" is a diminutive suffix (We'll need that with pet names).

A few German pet names

Keywords to google: Kosename (+ für Männer/für Frauen (for men and women))

Genderless (can be used, referring to both men and women, depending on relationship dynamic):

Schatz / Schatzi - the ultimate killer and number one pet name out there. "Treasure". Is very often used in public.

Liebling / Liebe - "Lover, love"

Herz / Herzchen - "Heart"

Süßi - "Sweet one"

Baby / Babe - yep, it's not in German, but it's very popular here among people younger than 50.

Engel / Engelchen - "Angel/angel + diminutive suffix"

Mein Ein und Alles - "My everything" a rather pompous expression, but it can be used when speaking directly to a lover.

Herzblatt - "Darling"

Goldstück - "Jewel. Piece of gold" a bit like treasure.

Sonne / Sonnenschein - "Sun / sunshine"

Himmel - "Heaven"

Stern / Sternchen - "Star"

Kätzchen - "Kitten"

Schneckchen - "Snail". I know, this one sounds strange, but I've heard it here a lot. And this is not even referring to someone slow

Tiger / Babytiger / Tigerchen - "Tiger / tiger cub"

Babylöwe - "Lion cub"

Zimtschnecke - "Cinnamon bun"

Also you all know and use Maus (which is great!!!!!), bit there are also options of Mausi, Babymaus and Mäuschen!

Feminine and masculine versions of pet names

Süße / Süßer - "Sweet one"

Schöne / Schöner - "Beautiful one"

Liebste / Liebster / Angebetete / Angebeteter / Geliebte / Geliebter - "Beloved"

Kleine - "Little one"

Großer - "Big one"

Heldin / Held - "Hero/ heroine"

Hübsche / Hübscher - "Beauty"

Ok, here is the part, where we get him to talk dirty to us.

Before

Ich brauche dich jetzt wirklich - "I really need you right now"

Es macht mich so an, auch nur an dich zu denken - "It turns me on just thinking about you"

Ich kann es nicht erwarten, dich in mir zu spüren/in dir zu sein - "I can't wait to feel you inside me/be inside you"

Ich will dir so einen blasen/dich so lecken, wie du es noch nie erlebt hast - "I want to give you a blowjob/lick you like you've never experienced before"

Ich möchte dich küssen, überall... - "I want to kiss you everywhere"

Du kannst heute Abend mit mir machen, was du willst - "Today you can do anything you want to me."

Ich kann es kaum erwarten, bis wir beide allein sind, damit ich dich ausziehen kann. - "I can't wait until we're both alone so I can undress you."

Ich stelle mir uns gerade nackt zusammen vor - "I'm thinking of us naked right now."

Ich hatte gerade einen eindrucksvollen Flashback von letzter Nacht - "I just had an amazing flashback from last night"

Wollen wir heute früh ins Bett gehen? - "Shall we go to bed early tonight?"

During

Das/du fühlst dich super an - "This/you feel great"

Ich liebe es, wie groß/feucht/weich du dich anfühlst - "I love how big/wet/soft you feel"

Bitte hör nie wieder damit auf - "Please don't stop doing this"

Das ist das beste Gefühl überhaupt - "That's the best feeling ever"

Du machst mich so an - "you turn me on (so hard on)"

Ich will, dass du mich nimmst - "I want you to take me"

Ich will dich schmecken - "I want to taste you"

Ich will, dass du kommst - "I want you to cum"

Ich habe deinen Körper so sehr vermisst - "I've missed your body so badly"

Ich will, dass du mich hier/da leckst/küsst - "I want you to lick/kiss me here/there"

Gutes/Böses Mädchen - "Good/bad girl"

If you want him to be more soft, here are some romantic phrases in German.

The (very) basics

Ich liebe dich - "I love you"

Willst du mein Freund/meine Freundin sein? - "Do you want to be my boyfriend/girlfriend?"

Ich bin bis über beide Ohren verliebt - "I’m head over heels in love"

Ich steh’ auf dich - "I’m into you"

Du bist die Liebe meines Lebens - "You’re the love of my life"

Du hast wunderschöne/schöne Augen - "You have beautiful eyes"

Küss mich - "Kiss me"

If you want something more advanced

Ich vermisse dich noch mehr, als ich jemals gedacht habe. - "I miss you even more than I ever thought it was possible"

Es gibt Freunde, es gibt Feinde und es gibt Menschen wie dich, die man vor lauter Liebe nie vergisst. Ich vermisse dich! - "There are friends, there are enemies and there are people like you who you never forget out of sheer love. I miss you!"

Ich zähle die Tage, Stunden und Minuten bis du wieder bei mir bist. - "I count the days, hours and minutes until you are with me again."

Unsere Sehnsucht wird immer größer, je weniger wir sie befriedigen können. - "Our longing grows ever greater, the less we can satisfy it."

Für mich ist jeder Morgen ein guter Morgen, weil ich weiß, dass ich dich an meiner Seite habe. - "For me every morning is a good morning because I know that I have you by my side."

Ich zähle die Stunden, bis du wieder bei mir bist. - "I'm counting the hours until you're with me again."

Ich weiß, das mit uns beiden ist mehr als nur Freundschaft. - "I know there's more to the two of us than just friendship."

Das nächste Mädchen, das ich lieben werde, wird unsere Tochter sein. - "The next girl I will love will be our daughter."

Ich wünschte, ich wäre der Wind, der sanft durch deine Haare streicht, die Sonne, die dich zärtlich berührt und der Mond, der deinen Schlaf bewacht. - "I wish I were the wind that gently caresses your hair, the sun that caresses you and the moon that watches over your sleep."

Jeden Tag wünsche ich mir, dass das zwischen uns niemals endet. - "Every day I wish that this never ends between us."

Mit dir an meiner Seite kann ich mich der ganzen Welt stellen. - "With you by my side I can face (fight) the whole world."

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mv2 #cod modern warfare #könig #konig mw2 #konig #könig cod #könig mw2 #cod konig #cod könig #konig cod #call of duty mw2 #konig modern warfare #konig fic #könig cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 2022

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months

Note

Yo! Good morning/evening, hope you are fine^^💝. I wanted to ask you a question but I was afraid that it may bother you or something (you know..that feeling when you are scared that you might disturb someone or being an unwelcome person) but yeah I will ask you since i was serious about your answer for some time now so I hope I'm not annoying you or something *feel free to answer only if you wish^^. You seem to know the characters pretty well, you are quite capable and great at reading and understanding them, one of the things I'm serious about is what do you think would make someone qualified enough to be with malleus? Do they have to be of the same species?certain Reputation, stature or traits?(sorry can't help it since I can't rest until I know everything about what interests me and figure it all out😅). Thanks for giving me some of your precious time I really like your blog, you're amazing💜

No worries, you’re not bothering me at all ^^ I love to talk about my hyperfixations www

Now, I know a lot of fans (particularly on the EN side) like to ship Malleus with their OC and especially with Yuu so I want to first make it clear that my response is NOT meant to invalidate those Malleus shippers. Whatever I say here is based on my own interpretation of canon lore (and let’s be real here, TWST won’t ever confirm if anyone is romantically interested in Yuu because it might not work with how some players view their own relationship with that character). In fanon, anyone can be with anyone, but in canon there are very specific in-universe rules and expectations laid out for Malleus so these are what I will be referring to.

I also want to emphasize that the final traits I discuss in this post do NOT reflect Malleus’s personal tastes or views. He has little say in what kind of an individual his spouse would be, so his own preferences are not speculated about or taken into account here. The traits I will be bringing up are based on what I believe the lore implies are the desirable traits for those marrying into the Draconia royal family.

We got it? Good 👍 Read more below the cut!!

Firstly, I’m completely disregarding the ideas of “Malleus can love whoever he wants to love”, “Malleus can scare people into accepting who he loves”, and/or “Malleus can change the law so he can marry who he loves” (a la Sultan from Aladdin or through some other Disney magic or logic). Here’s why:

In general, those solutions for “high stakes issues” are too simple, and that has never been how Twisted Wonderland tackles complicated problems. Just look at every single OB boy’s backstory. They’re so complex that they aren’t totally resolved by the end of their books; these problems persist and are long term things each of them are working on addressing. This is also true of the politics TWST introduces to us; Leona for example explains how there is social pushback and resistance to the idea of infrastructure reform because the culture of the Sunset Savanna stresses harmony with nature. This has made it difficult for them to adopt new technologies because real politicians in their world have to seriously weigh their cultural values with their health and societal progress. The only time there are really easy solutions are in events or vignettes where the emotional stakes are not super high, but who Malleus marries is, in fact, super important since this will entirely change the life of a main character and his country.

With that first bullet point in mind… No, Malleus cannot love whoever he wants to love. Certainly, he may feel affection for another but he can never truly be with them. He is royalty and the only heir to the throne of Briar Valley. It follows that he is expected to marry for political reasons/to better his nation. This is a non-negotiable obligation for him.

Rather than saying, “Malleus cannot scare people into accepting who he loves”, I think it’s more accurate to say Malleus knows he probably shouldn’t. I mean, yes, he may be upset about his S/O not being accepted by his people but I feel that is discrediting a lot of the loyalty he has for his own country. As a kid he may have thrown tantrums when he was upset and potentially harmed staff, but as a 178 year old he has a much better understanding of decorum and maintaining it in spite of his own grudges. For example, even though he personally dislikes Leona he still commands Sebek to apologize to him because, at the end of the day, this could harm Briar Valley’s relationship with the Sunset Savanna. That’s not to say that Malleus can’t be petty (he definitely is)—but implying he would be petty toward basically his entire country just because they would disapprove of the one he loves?? (We know this would likely be true because Sebek’s parents faced similar backlash when they got together.) I feel like his own sense of awareness and responsibility for his country, crown, and people would override that. As an example, Malleus states that he has never been in a car before because the senate would be against it and often kept Malleus in the castle. Someone of his power could easily ignore them and sneak out and do whatever he wanted, yet the dialogue implies Malleus didn’t. He obeyed his political advisors even when he was younger and arguably much more immature. Malleus might not like certain decisions made about his life but it sounds like he ultimately complies with them.

Continuing from the previous point, let’s say for the sake of argument that Malleus does scare everyone into line. What about his public image and the mental health of his S/O? Maybe Malleus can frighten people to not talk out of turn to his face, but he cannot control what people whisper about him behind closed doors or to treat his S/O well or like they actually like them. Not only would they be alienated (away from their own home and forced to adapt to a new one) but they’d be treated oddly by others too. What kind of reputation is that for Malleus? To be a tyrant king who throws a hissy fit anytime someone talks about his partner in a way he doesn’t approve of? With a spouse who is not at their best mentally because of the constant ostracization? (This is similar to what Leona experienced in his childhood.) I don’t think Malleus would want to subject anyone to that kind of life, especially not one he loves. And again, this attitude would be the vast majority of his people. It’s not like it can be avoided or resolved in an easy manner, especially when the people of Briar Valley have proven to be against change.

Lastly, Malleus would not change the law so he can be with whoever he wants to. To begin with, I doubt this is a unilateral position the senate would approve of. But okay, let’s accept that Malleus is royalty so his power overrides the advisors’ power. So he effectively just changed a law for a very selfish and personal reason rather than changing something to actually benefit his people. That doesn’t feel in-character for him, not when Malleus seems to understand that it is the duty of those in higher status to help those below them rather than themselves (see: Riddle’s Suitor Suit vignettes. Malleus has acted selfish before, yes (who remembers Endless Halloween Night? His Dorm Uniform vignettes? I do.)—but never at the cost of changing the status quo of his country. (Book 7 is not included here because he’s in a very distressed emotional state then; this “new law” scenario posits that Malleus is in a normal state of mind.) This is a major change—change which Briar Valley, its people, and most importantly, Malleus, are not ready for. You think there wouldn’t be social pushback against this? From a society that has become complacent with its own way of life and is still isolated from the rest of the world? That Malleus, someone who struggles greatly with accepting life changes himself, could enact such a big change so easily? (On a more technical level, you don’t just pass a law and it instantly becomes tangible or real, there is a process of approval and then implementation.)

Additionally, it’s made clear in Ghost Marriage that “[Malleus] cannot enter into an engagement lightly”, which is why Sebek goes in his place. Eliza, the Ghost Bride, is royalty (er, albeit dead) but it seems that royal status is not enough to qualify as his partner. Maybe this is because she’s dead and doesn’t have anything of value for Briar Valley (no land, no people, no political power), but it could also mean that the partner has to be given the thumbs up by other parties.

All that being said, here are some of the conditions I think would have to be met for Malleus’s future spouse:

Has to be someone of equal or at least high status. This means they also have to be a royal or at least of nobility. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who is referred to as a duke.

Because of how self-contained Briar Valley is + nocturnal fae having beef with diurnal fae, I imagine his partner would have to also be a nocturnal fae. This would also solve the MASSIVE lifespan difference between fae and non-fae because at least fae would be far closer to each other even if their lifespans fluctuate but subspecies.

Someone suited to rule by his side. Being married into any royal family is no joke—it comes with the expectation that you will contribute somehow, and the partner should be fully equipped to enter the world of politics with him.

Piggybacking off the last point, I think mental fortitude is also a prerequisite. This is because being a politician (navigating the social climate both within your country and outside of it, keeping your people and colleagues happy, maintaining public approval, managing laws, dealing with potential attempts on your life, etc.) can be very stressful and can hurt those who are faint of heart or not prepared for the responsibility. Leaders have to make tough calls at the drop of a hat, and they have to be ready for it.

Has a lot to offer in terms of benefits to Briar Valley as a country. This could be in terms of resources, connections, and/or political savvy. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who acted as a diplomat for Briar Valley.

Vetting and formal approval from the senate. lmao good luck with that

Has to be able and willing to have a child. They at least need an heir to the throne to succeed Malleus. (However, knowing how exclusionary and conservative as heck the senators are, I doubt they would accept anything but a biological child 💀)

Preferably someone with powerful magic or is skilled at magic already so as to lessen the chance of “tainting” the bloodline with a weak mage or a non-mage.

I believe that Briar Valley would prefer someone with old fashioned values like them, not someone pushing for massive reform. They have a culture that is resistant to change and a history of fighting for resources with outsiders, so if Malleus’s new spouse tries to introduce a bunch of technology or open its borders to other countries (even if they have good intentions), the people + the senate may oppose them. His father is implied to be open-minded, but he at least understood that such change isn’t reasonable without time and effort dedicated to the endeavor.

All that being said 💦 I think that this topic is actually less about what Malleus as an individual wants and what his country, his people, and, yes, even his asshole senators, want. This is basically an arranged marriage situation so that their country can maintain power and relevance. It’s about the collective and what Malleus must do for their perceived security and prosperity.

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kiame-sama · 2 months

Note

Hello, Can you write more yanChrollo with the newly hijacked and autistic reader? Maybe where the reader is not yet used to Chrollo or the situation, And afraid of him and the rest of the members

I would like to make the reader male but if you prefer to make the reader female then I don't mind at all

I am now in my twenties

Thank you so much

Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, autistic reader, male reader, mention of kidnapping, less than pleased reader, tough situations, ficlet (not a fullblown fic), somewhat hurt/comfort,

(Despite being a male reader, still using my own autism as a reference)

~~~~~~~~

"Why are we just letting him-"

"Don't question Boss. His soulmate, his rules."

"But why the hell is he just letting his soul mate sit in the corner like that?"

You watched them closely as you sat and stared, trying to keep to yourself as best you could. It had been days but you still couldn't bring yourself to relax among the group of people that had so readily grabbed you off the street. They were much more openly curious than Chrollo- the man they had grabbed you for- and clearly did not care if you could hear them or not.

Chrollo, the man that claimed you as his soulmate, had been rather keen on letting you acclimate to him but also keeping you in his sight. Luckily, he did give you some privacy, but he was never too far away from you even when you were out of his sight. Even when you slept you knew he was somewhere nearby and it only made your stress levels rise.

"No sense in upsetting him more than getting him to me had," Chrollo, spoke with a vague grin on his lips, "clearly I just have to learn how to best interact with him, that is all."

"I can hear you."

"I know you can, my darling (Y/n). However, you are not keen on talking, so there is no point in making you talk."

"... But there is a point in taking me from my home?"

Chrollo turned to you now, intentionally blinking in an attempt to come across as less threatening despite how it obviously didn't fool you. Still, he was learning what unsettled you and what was going to keep you calm. Any progress in relaxing you around him was good progress in Chrollo's eyes.

"Yes. As I explained earlier, we are soulmates. You can distrust me as much as you wish, you will eventually never want to leave my side. Soulmates are connected for a reason, Dear."

You just let out a soft humming sound in response to his words, drumming your fingers against your arm idly. Chrollo continued to smile at you despite your lack of response before returning to his book. The other members of the group didn't seem to feel the same way as they continued to glance at you suspiciously from time to time.

The sounds from the outside wre muffled but absolutely enough to occupy you. Not many cars went by, but there were still the various barks of dogs as others passed the abandoned building you were held captive inside of. Despite the sounds, your eyes stayed fixed on the relaxed figure of Chrollo.

The more you stared, the more your situation began to weigh on you. A very faint sting of salty tears burned your eyes as your throat seemed to tighten with distress. When you finally dropped your gaze, you had to hide your face against your arms and you pulled your knees to your chest. The first few tears fell quickly but you tried your best to remain as quiet as possible to not draw attention to your now sensitive state.

It was while you choked back any sounds from escaping that you felt something drape over your shoulders. Whatever it was almost seemed like a blanket and you quickly took to wrapping yourself in the material. The faint brush of fur against your arms brought to mind thoughts of the coat Chrollo always wore and you gathered just what the item was.

A soft sound of movement next to you made you peak one eye past your arms where you hid your face, seeing Chrollo settle an arm's length away from you. He leaned against the wall as he sat- completely topless- and opened his book back to whatever page he had been on. He didn't even glance at you as you stared at him, trying to gauge what he was doing. Without missing a beat, Chrollo spoke in a soft tone to you, the low rumble of his voice somewhat soothing your anxious heart.

"I know it is a frightening time for you. You're somewhere new. Somewhere you don't know very well. It all is so sudden and confusing for you. I understand. Even if you don't trust me now, I still don't wish to bear the thought of you hurting all by yourself."

Chrollo had that grin again, the one where he seemed to be both bemused and patiently waiting. You couldn't tell if you liked that look on him or not.

"You will warm to me eventually. For now, take comfort in the fact I have quite the patience. I can wait as long as I need to until you begin to trust me."

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #hxh yandere #yandere chrollo #tw autism #tw kidnap mention

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shiorimakibawrites · 5 months

Text

The Accident (Part I of Happy Little Accident)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Word Count: 7, 368 Summary: You tripped in the elevator and covered your neighbor in paint. Your ridiculously hot neighbor that you have an enormous crush on. Warning(s): Anxiety, Female Gaze, Referenced Sex, Referenced Character Death, Reference to assumed Attempted Murder, Thoughts about sex Happy Little Accident Masterlist My Masterlist Tag List: @loves0phelia

Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

The Accident

You were painting in Central Park when your phone rang. You let out an irritated huff as you fished your phone out of your apron’s pocket and looked at the caller ID. Abby, your boss at the Daily Grind. It was tempting to ignore the call, pretend like you had forgotten your phone. Very tempting. It was a lovely spring day, one you would much rather spend painting than working. But in the end the knowledge that Abby wasn’t prone to bothering her employees during their off hours without a good reason had you accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Abby said, sounding apologetic. “Can you cover for the afternoon shift today? Peter is in the hospital.”

“The hospital?!” you repeated, feeling immediately concerned. “What happened? Is he okay?”

Peter was one of the cafe’s newer employees. You didn’t know him very well yet but he seemed like a nice kid. If a little absentminded, given how often he arrived for his shift at a rush. And possibly even more clumsy than you are since you had often seen him with bruises which he claimed were the results of tripping over things.

Assuming he wasn’t lying about how he had gotten hurt. Which you thought that he was . . . some of those injuries didn’t look like they had came from a fall . . . It worried you. It worried others at the cafe too. Abby wasn’t usually so forgiving of such frequent tardiness and absences.

“He got hit by a car. Claims that he’s only got minor injuries but the hospital doesn’t want to discharge him without running some tests first. So can you come in today?”

You suppressed the urge to sigh. You didn’t want to sent the wrong message. Because you weren’t actually annoyed with Abby or Peter but the situation. These things happen. Sometimes people got hurt or got sick. And when they did, someone didn’t get their day off. Today was simply your turn.

And well . . . it wasn’t like you couldn’t use the money.

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver!”

You ended the call and slipped your phone back into your apron before starting to gather up your things. Your newly acquired shift started at three. It was only a little after noon, plenty of time to get back to your apartment and get ready, but you didn’t like rush. Rushing tended to make you even more of a klutz.

You swirled the used brushes in the water jar, trying to get as much paint off of your brushes before rolling them in a small towel. A second towel, already stained with old paint, was used to wrap up your palette. The paint was thrown back into their carrying box. Which was technically a small tackle box but you had repurposed it for art supplies. The box went into the bottom of your tote bag along with the water jar, double checking that lid was screwed on tightly. You didn’t need to ruin another sketchbook. You squeezed your current sketchbook behind the tackle box. Next went your pencil case, followed by the towels and their respective cargo. Now the only thing left was your painting and the portable easel.

You removed the painting from the easel, careful to avoid the spots where the paint had spilled over onto the tacking edge. Your fingers already had enough paint on them. The painting was propped against a tree, fingers crossed for two things. One that the wind wouldn’t pick up and send your painting flying. And two, a police officer wouldn’t start yelling at you for it. You didn’t think using the tree as a momentary support while you packed up violated any park rules but you weren’t entirely sure. You had read the park rules but they were written like a legal document . . . which it probably was . . . but that made you feel like you probably weren’t understanding it right. After all, you weren’t a lawyer.

Luck seemed to be with you. You were able to get easel broken down and put away without incident. You swung your bag into your shoulder before picking up your painting. After making sure you had a good grip on the stretcher and the tacking edge, you took a quick look around to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything. Then you started making your way home.

Your lucky streak continued. You didn’t drop anything. No one dumped into the wet canvas or you while you were walking. The subway was busy as usual but not packed to the gills. Your feet resisted the urge to get tangled up in some random piece of debris. Or your own feet. Or the absolutely nothing that you somehow managed to trip over sometimes . . .

In hindsight, you should have realized that it was too good to last.

Things began to go awry when you were waiting for the elevator to arrive. You looked down and saw a tube of paint in your aprons’ pockets instead of the tackle box where it belonged. Normally, you’d shrug and try to remember to put it away later but it looked like the cap hadn’t been screwed back on correctly. Your frown deepened after you transferred your painting to one hand and realized that the cap was loose. Loose enough that it was a minor miracle that it hadn’t fallen off somewhere between the park and here . . . you hoped the paint hadn’t gotten dried out . . .

You heard the elevator dings its arrival as you pulled the paint out of your pocket. Trying to one-handedly shift the tube so its cap could be gripped between your fingers and twisted close, you didn’t look when you heard the elevator door slide open. You just moved forward. And immediately tripped over . . . something . . . you had no idea what.

You just knew that you were falling, that you had lost your grip on your painting as your hands instinctively rose to protect your head from the oncoming impact. An impact that never came. Someone caught you before you could hit the floor. Unfortunately the hand holding the paint had squeezed down, spraying paint on yourself and the chest of your rescuer.

It was like a train wreck. You didn’t want to look but you always couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You stared in horror the giant splash in the middle, the magenta color of the paint shockingly bright against the light gray suit, white dress shirt, and blue tie . . . Your eyes darted to the array of smaller droplets that radiated outward like shrapnel . . . you raised your eyes with the growing dread. Because you recognized that suit and tie, that broad chest . . .

Sure enough, when you looked up, you were greeted with the very surprised face of Matt Murdock. You felt your heart sink. Of course it was Matt. It couldn’t have been someone else. Anyone else. Preferably a random stranger that you would never see again. But no . . . it had to be your neighbor. It had to the man you had developed an enormous crush on.

Your face felt like it was on fire. You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you. You wanted to cry. Matt returning your feelings had always been a long shot . . . but now? There was no chance. You had turned out of his nice suits into a terrible Jackson Pollock . . . you were going to be lucky if he ever talked to you again . . .

You don’t know when you started apologizing. One minute, you were frozen in humiliated shock, the next increasingly frantic words started spilling out of your mouth. What words you couldn’t say. You couldn’t hear anything past your heart pounding in your ears . . .

A hand cupping your cheek was so startling that it immediately pierced the panic clouding your mind. Big, warm hand . . . you blinked and realized that someone was speaking to you. A familiar deep, soft-spoken voice . . .

“. . . shh, shh, sweetheart, it’s okay . . .”

Sweetheart?! You would hardly believe your own ears. But that was definitely Matt’s voice, his face that you were looking at, and those oh-so-kissable lips were moving . . .

This wasn’t the first time that Matt had called you sweetheart. He had been doing that since the first time you meet. If literally running into someone counts as meeting them. You would like to say no but it wasn’t like your second encounter with your then new neighbor had gone much better. You weren’t always a klutz around him but your bouts of clumsiness did occurred around him with embarrassing regularity.

And provided he was nearby when it happened, Matt always caught you when you started falling . . . so finding yourself in his arms also happened on a regular basis.

This had some upsides. For one, it gave you an appreciation for how much muscle must be hiding under those suits of his. Because he never had any trouble catching you or helping you get back onto your own feet. There was something very hot about the way he could lift you up like you weighted nothing. For another, he is very warm. Which had been especially nice during the recent autumn and winter months. And he smelled good. Like plain soap, ink, paper, and something woodsy like sandalwood with fainter notes of leather, cooper, and something else familiar but that you couldn’t quite remember what it was or where you had smelled it.

On the downside, you were never in his arms for very long. Certainly not long enough to really enjoy being held by those strong arms. He’d catch you, make sure you were steady on your feet again, then his arms would slide away and he stepped back. Taking all of his warmth and good smells with him. Which was always a little disappointing even if you did appreciated that he didn’t assume that he had permission to hold you longer than was absolutely necessary. And that he didn’t use those moments as an excuse to get handsy. Which you knew some people would have.

Further on the downside, being in his arms for any length of time made it very hard to pretend that he didn’t get you all hot and bothered. That having his warm breath brush against your neck and ear when he said something like ‘Careful, sweetheart’ didn’t make the skin there prickle and the rest of you shudder. Or, last week, when your shirt had gotten ridden up, that feeling those callused fingers against your bare skin didn’t make you shiver. Or the absolute worst, when you had to act like you hadn’t just been touching yourself while fantasizing about him, that you hadn’t just been moaning his name, that being in his arms hadn’t renewed the heat between your legs . . .

Those moments, it was really difficult to stop yourself from doing something crazy. Like ask him if you can find out if those pouty lips are soft as they looked . . . or if how much of that beautiful ass you could fit in your hands . . .

You suppressed the urge to groan. Serena, your best friend in the world, was right. You needed to get laid. Because even at the most embarrassing moments of your life, when you were half-considering changing your name and moving somewhere far away, you still couldn’t keep your mind out of the gutter.

Your imagination was out of control. It kept trying to convince you of the wildest things. Like that there was something more to the way his fingers had rubbed that little sliver of bare skin last week than just some mild curiosity when his hands didn’t encounter the expected shirt material. Or those tightening grips on your waist was anything other than making sure he wasn’t about to drop you. Those moments when his voice went deeper and huskier weren’t due to attraction but Matt was obviously coming down with a cold or something.

You ignored the grumbling inner voice that pointed out, aside from when he had the misfortune to get stuck in the elevator with that guy from the third floor who smelled like he bathed in cheap cologne, you had yet to see Matt so much as sneeze. Or that none of those moments had overlapped with the times Matt had looked ill – tired and moving like his body ached.

You weren’t going to get your hopes up. Matt was way out of your league. So far out that you weren’t even playing the same sport. He was incredibly good-looking, easily one of the most handsome men you had ever meet. You were the textbook definition of Plain Jane. Not ugly but not beautiful either. He was confident, outgoing, and charming. You were anxious, shy, and awkward. He was a lawyer with a successful law firm. You were an artist whose work didn’t sell well enough to make a living off of it. Hence the waitress/barista job at the Daily Grind.

Maybe not the most sensible job choice for a shy klutz but there were only so many options for someone with an art degree. Plus you had been working there since college and Abby had displayed remarkable patience for your clumsiness (and the periodic broken dishes that went with it). Mostly because you were otherwise reliable. And while you would never enjoy making small talk with strangers, you could do with a smile. It helped the majority of the regulars were nice . . .

“Sweetheart?”

Any blood that managed to drain out of your cheeks immediately flooded back. You were really batting a thousand today. First you spray him with paint, then you babble incoherently at him, then you stand there like a moron ignoring him for god only knew how long. If Matt didn’t already think you were awkward and weird, he certainly did now.

“Sorry,” you said, not sure of what to say.

He smiled at you. That sweet one that seemed . . . .dare you say it? . . . fond? Which did nothing to diminish the flush in your face. Neither did the little circles his thumb was rubbing into your right cheek or the reassuring squeeze from the hand at your waist.

He’s just trying to keep me calm, you told yourself sternly. It didn’t mean anything. He just didn’t need you panicking again. Lawyers were busy people. He had probably had things to do and didn’t want to waste anymore time on you.

“And to answer your earlier question, no, I’m not going to sue you.”

You had actually said that? Out loud? You closed your eyes and let out a low groan. Everytime you think this situation couldn’t get more embarrassing . . . that idea of moving some remote mountain which hopefully had no insanely hot lawyers living on it was sounding better and better. The only thing thing that would have been worse was if your word-vomit had decided to detail just how attractive you found him. Then, in addition to everything else today, you’d have to listen to him say ‘I’m flattered but . . .’ while your heart shattered into a million pieces . . .

“Sorry,” you repeated. Because what else you could you say to something like that?

“No need to apologize again, sweetheart,” he said as his hand slide off of your face before joining its fellow in helping you get back on your own feet. Then, as usual, his arms pulled away entirely and he took a small step back. As usual, you told yourself that you weren’t disappointed or felt colder. Both were a lie.

“It was an accident,” he continued. “You said you were sorry. No harm done.”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from flickering around his suit. The mess hadn’t miraculously disappeared. It was still here.

“No harm?” you repeated. “You’ve got magenta splattered all over your suit!”

“Which one is magenta?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I remember what magenta looks like,” Matt said, sounding thoughtful. “Can you describe it for me?”

“Er . . . pink?” you said, trying to think of how to describe it. “This particular shade is darker than bubblegum, more purplish-red? Like some plums just under the skin or a pomegranate?”

“Sounds pretty,” he said. “Foggy has been telling me that I need to wear more color.”

“I think he probably meant new clothes that were different colors, not paint splattered on your existing clothes,” you said slowly, unsure of what to make of this conversation. It was not turning out at all like you would have expected it to.

He grinned. “Most likely but he never actually said clothes. Just more color. He knows better than to leave the terms of a contract that vague.”

While you didn’t know Foggy Nelson very well, you had the feeling he would not be impressed. You had also seem him and Matt needling each other at Josie’s often enough to picture the irritated look he would level at his partner if he returned to work looking like this and tried to make that argument. The image was so absurd that you had to giggle.

“Not sure that is a winning argument, Mr. Murdock,” you said,

“Sure it is,” he said. “Any ambiguity in a contract favors the party that didn’t write it. Foggy wrote the contract without defining his terms. So I am free to interpret those terms as anyone might reasonably expect them to mean.”

Which only made you giggle even harder. He was being so silly. “It’s not very professional?”

“Regretfully, I have to agree,” he said, sounding almost like he genuinely disappointed about that. Provided you couldn’t see the cheeky grin on his face. “Will I need anything special to remove the paint?”

“No,” you said, silently thanking Past You for choosing to work with acrylics today instead of oils. The faded spots the turpentine would leave would be less noticeable than magenta but still probably not something he wanted. Also even the low-odor version didn’t smell good. You didn’t know if there was any truth to that whole ‘blind people’s other senses get stronger’ thing but real or not, Matt seemed to have a pretty sensitive nose. “Acrylics are water-based. As long as it is still wet, warm water and soap is enough.”

“See? No harm done,” he said, giving that flirty smile that always made your heart go pitter-patter. Even when you tried to tell yourself that it didn’t mean anything. Matt was a charming guy who flirted a little with everyone. You had seem him get a little flirty with Mrs. Gonzales, the third resident of the sixth floor. Who was, as she pointedly reminded him, old enough to be his grandmother and scolded him for shameless flattery. She had rolled her eyes a little when he retorted the truth wasn’t flattery but did seem pleased. Pleased enough to make him tamales. Which honestly made you a little jealous. The tamales you had bought from her at during the holidays had been really good . . .

Serena thought Matt wasn’t flirting with you just to flirt. That he actually liked you. But she was your best friend. It was her job to believe that you were wonderful and agree that the hot guy you had a crush on was into you. And if it turned out that he wasn’t . . . well, then he was an idiot wasn’t worth your time. You wanted to believe her . . . you wanted that to true so badly . . .

But you had seen the women Matt used to bring home. And the ones who flirted with him at Josie’s. Beautiful, self-assured women with successful careers. They were everything that you weren’t. Granted, you hadn’t seen one of his paramours leaving or arriving at the building for a while. And the only ones you had seen him leaving Josie’s with lately were his friends.

Or you. Which you refused to read anything into either. Matt just didn’t think you walking home alone at night was safe. And it wasn’t. The Kitchen might have Daredevil, its guardian in red leather, but he couldn’t be everywhere. Couldn’t save everyone through if the rumors were to be believed, it certainly seemed like he tried.

Regardless of his reason, you always ended up agreeing because you were too weak to say no to spending just a little more time with him. And it wasn’t like you were making him go out of his way since you both lived in the same building . . .

The point was that Matt would the same thing for anyone. Even someone who really didn’t need it. Like Jessica Jones. Through he claimed that was just to save himself or Foggy from needing to make another late-night trip to the police station because she had punched some creep into a wall. While he agreed that yes, they deserved it for treating someone like that but the police didn’t see that way, Jessica . . .

“As long as it’s still wet,” you repeated. “It’s harder to remove once its’ dry.”

“How does that take?”

“About half an hour.”

“Good thing I’m so close to home then.” Then he seemed to hesitate. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Absolutely,” you said, cringing a little at how eager you sounded. But you had gotten paint all over him. A favor was the least you could do.

“Can you help me get this cleaned up?” he said, gesturing toward the paint. He gave you a self-deprecating smile. “Otherwise I might miss a spot.”

“I can do that,” you said. You had been intending to offer help anyway. You had made the mess. You should help clean it up.

He frowned suddenly, his head tilting to one side. “Are you sure? I’m not keeping you from anything?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t need to be at work until three and it’s . . .”

You tried to check the time on your watch but it had a smear of paint across the face. Unfortunately the hands were hidden by said smear of paint. “Probably not three.”

Matt’s lips twitched. “Problem with your watch?”

“Paint is hiding the hands.”

He gave an amused grin as he ran his fingers around the edge of his watch. “The downside of wearing non-tactile watches. It’s a quarter til one.”

“Plenty of time,” you said. And even if it wasn’t . . . Abby was a reasonable person. She would completely understand not leaving any neighbor, let alone your blind neighbor, to clean this up.

He smiled before reaching down to pick up his fallen cane. You felt your face get warm again. Both because you just realized what you had gotten tripped over (which made you feel like a jerk) and because that action had pulled those trousers taut over his ass (which made you feel . . . other things). But you couldn’t stop yourself from looking. Not when you had a front row seat to one of the best asses in America. Possibly the world.

Matt couldn’t possibly know that you were checking out his ass but that smug little smirk that he flashed in your direction made you feel like he did. You averted your eyes and tried to find a distraction. Before thinking about his ass (or other body parts) got you worked up. More worked up. Which not only would be awkward but make you nervous and prone to say something embarrassing.

Then you remembered your painting. You had dropped it earlier. Where was . . . you let out a distressed groan as you picked it up. The good news was that your painting hadn’t landed paint-side down. Which had saved the mostly dried paint from smearing or chipping. The bad news that hadn’t escaped The Magenta. It didn’t get hit as nearly badly as Matt but there was still a giant splat right in the middle of the lake . . .

“What’s wrong?”

“There is a giant glob of magenta in the middle of the lake,” you said.

“The lake?”

“In my painting,” you said. “I was doing one of the Bow Bridge in Central Park.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Maybe,” you said, looking at the mess and trying to think of how to incorporate the random splatters into the image. You could remove some of it without taking off the underlying layers but not all of it. That would have to be incorporated somehow . . . Maybe a boat? Or a float . . . some of the smaller ones could be turned into leaves if you switched the setting to autumn just as the leaves were turning . . . or a flowering tree with pink blossoms . . .

“We don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents,” you reminded your inner perfectionist.

“That sounds familiar.”

“It’s something Bob Ross said a lot,” you said. “He was–”

“That guy on PBS who painted the landscapes?” Matt said. “Soft-spoken, sometimes had a squirrel in his pocket and talked about happy trees?”

“That’s the one,” you said. “The Joy of Painting. I watched it religiously as a kid. How about you?”

An odd little smile spread across Matt’s face. “Not often enough to qualify as religious but you could call us regular watchers. My dad wasn’t much of an art guy but he found the show relaxing . . . and it was quiet. I could turn it on in the morning without waking him up after he had worked late.”

He sounded nostalgic, like these were fond memories but also deeply sad. Then you remembered that Matt’s father was dead. Killed when he was a little boy. Which you only knew about because you had once given into temptation and googled Matt Murdock. Most of the search results had been about his law firm and the Castle trial but further down the page, articles about the accident that blinded him and his father’s death had also appeared. But by then, you had felt guilty enough about snooping into his life that you hadn’t read any those of articles beyond their headlines.

“Did you ever try to follow along?” you asked softly.

“A few times with the watercolors from my school supplies,” he said. “I was terrible at it but my dad hung up every picture on the fridge like it was the Mona Lisa.”

“Mine did that too,” you said. “My mom might still have a few of them tucked away with the baby pictures, waiting to embarrass me with them.”

He chuckled. “Did you ever fall asleep watching the show?”

You laughed. “Yes. Usually after I had stayed up too late reading.”

“Same,” he said, then gestured to the control panel. “Shall we go up?”

“Yes, we shall,” you said, a little amazed at how well this was going, despite the mishap. And that the elevator had remained here at the ground floor for this long. Probably it was the middle of the day and therefore most of the other tenants were either at work or school right now. As the elevator rose, you tried to think of something to talk about. You didn’t mind quiet but your earlier anxiety about his reaction had been replaced by your more usual nerves at being around the man you had spent almost half a year pining over.

Nervous You tended to be a chatterbox with chronic foot-in-mouth disease. Nervous You might blurt out that you liked him. Might detail how you wanted to go on dates, snuggle on the couch, hold hands while you took long walks, call each other by cliché nicknames like honey or dear. Basically be one of those disgustingly adorable couples . . . And behind closed doors, mind-blowing sex. The kind of sex that would leave you walking funny with a big smile on your face . . .

That thought alone made your cheeks warm. Among other places. Maybe work? Work should be a safe enough topic. Nothing naughty about work . . .

“What brings you home this early?” you asked, injecting as much cheer as possible in your voice to disguise your nerves. “Does no one need lawyering today?”

He chuckled. “No, we still have plenty of people who needed lawyering. I just forget my phone this morning and this was the first chance I’ve had to retrieve it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as the elevator dinged your arrival to the sixth floor. The doors slide open and you walked out. Or rather you tried. But apparently you just had no luck with elevators today because you managed to slip on nothing. For the second time today, you started to fall. Only backwards this time.

And despite what happened the last time, Matt still caught you.

“Sorry,” you said, feeling the earlier flush to your cheeks deepen.

“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” he said. “I like having a beautiful girl in my arms.”

Which only made the warmth in your face start to spread down your neck. Even if he didn’t meant it, it was nice to be told that you were beautiful. You couldn’t help liking it. You did your best to ignore the nasty voice in your head – the one that sounded a lot like those awful girls in high school who had bullied you – saying how would Matt even know that you were beautiful or not . . . he was blind . . .

Your more optimistic side – which sounded like Serena – pointed out that for obvious reasons, that Matt was unlikely to find someone attractive based solely on their appearance . . . so maybe he really did find you beautiful . . .

You blamed those pernicious thoughts for making you feel like there was hint of hesitation, of reluctance, in Matt’s hands as they slide back off of your waist once you were standing upright again. But not matter how many times you told yourself that it was just your overactive imagination . . . part of you couldn’t help but hope.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Matt said as you followed him into his apartment. While he disappeared down a hallway, you propped your unfinished painting against a wall before slipping your tote off your shoulder with a sigh of relief. It wasn’t very heavy but those almost falls had jerked it and its contains around, making the straps dig into your shoulder. After sitting down the tote, you prodded the area. It was a little sore but it lacked the tenderness you associated with oncoming bruises.

You walked toward the kitchen and looked around, curious. In some respects, his apartment was a lot like yours. Both displayed the buildings’ previous life as factory in the exposed brick, scuffed hardwood floors, and visible HVAC and pipes. Both had large windows that let in a lot of natural light if even the old glass was a little wavy or different colored. Both had galley-style kitchens and generally open floor plan. Both of you seemed to have opted for a mismatched collection of secondhand furniture in either earth tones or neutral colors. But that was where the similarities ended.

The first and most noticeable difference was size. His was a lot bigger than yours. Which honestly you had expected, knowing very well that your side of the sixth floor had been turned into two units whereas his was left as one. Yours didn’t have access to the roof but in all honesty, you were fine with that. You weren’t afraid of high places in and of themselves but you were afraid of falling from high places. The outside of your windows wasn’t dominated by The Billboard. Which even during the day looked rather bright.

Matt’s apartment struck you as unfinished, like there was something missing but it took you a moment to figure out what. There was nothing decorative. The walls were bare and furniture were bare. It was sharp contrast to your place where the walls had been turned into a gallery for your unsold paintings and the furniture was festooned with the efforts of Serena’s knitting or your embroidery. You wondered if this was due to preference (Matt was simply a minimalist who considered decorative items to be annoying clutter) or to circumstance (Matt hadn’t found anything that he liked yet).

Another difference was the level of tidiness. You weren’t outright messy. You cleaned up after yourself. But there was always a certain amount of controlled chaos. For example, you were just as likely to find your pincushion and scissors on the kitchen table as in the sewing bag where they belonged. Or how your books often ended up stacked on the floor by your reading chair instead of being put back on the bookshelf.

Matt’s place, by contrast, looked very well organized. Everything obviously had a place and was always returned to its spot when not in use. Which made sense when you thought about it. No one wanted to go on a scavenger hunt every time they needed something. And given how busy Matt was, he also didn’t have time to be doing that.

Plus there were things that no one would want to get mixed up. Like grabbing the shampoo bottle when you wanted the mouthwash. Yes, there were other things that would clue him in before he inadvertently washed out his own mouth with soap. But, as your grandmother liked to say, an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure.

“Will any soap work?”

You jumped at a little at Matt’s voice. He sounded close. Much closer than you would have thought he could get to you without you noticing. Especially on these old hardwood floors which had so many places that creaked or groaned when stepped on.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s . . .” you started as you turned toward the sound of his voice. And promptly felt your intended words get tangled up in your throat. Your heart began to race as blood rushed back to your cheeks at the sight before you.

Your eyes greedily took in his broad shoulders, then down arms so thick that you doubted that you would be able to fully wrap your hand around it. Back up and across to the well-defined pectorals, then down through to sculpted abdominals until they disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. All covered in a skin that looked like it was as soft as satin.

You swallowed hard. You had known for a while that Matt had some muscle. He had saved you from your own clumsiness too often for you not to know that. But this . . . you had no idea he was hiding all this under those fancy suits of his . . . It was like someone had brought the statue of a Greek god or Michelangelo’s David to life . . . and then someone had apparently convinced him to put on pants. Whoever that idiot was should be fired . . . because if the rest of him looked this good . . .

“Sweetheart?”

Once again, you jumped at his voice. You raised your eyes up to his face. Your breath caught for the second time. Because Matt wasn’t wearing his dark glasses. You had never seen him without those glasses. Predictably, his eyes were just as pretty as the rest of him. Big, brown eyes sparkling with amusement and confidence. It matched that cocky little smirk he was sporting. The same one he had given you earlier. Only this time, you were positive that he knew that you were staring.

But it was so hard not to . . . he was so beautiful . . . it filled with you competing urges. The artist longed for your drawing pencils and a couple of hours to sketch. You weren’t sure you had the talent to fully capture his beauty but you would love to try. The woman, however, wanted him to fuck you. For him be inside you. Cock, fingers, tongue . . . your cunt didn’t care which. Any or all of them would do.

Watching that pink tongue dart out from between those oh-so-kissable lips before disappearing back inside his mouth did nothing to quell your arousal. Nor did the almost hungry look in his eyes. All it did was make you think about all things a man could do with his tongue if he was so inclined . . .

You dug your hands into your jeans to keep them to yourself. Silently you reminded yourself why you had to control the later impulse. First – Matt wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your neighbor and maybe a friend. Second – even if you were his lover and consented to having sex, neither of you had time today. He needed to go back to his office and you had to be the cafe at three. Abby would understand you being late because you were helping Matt clean up The Magenta. She would be far less sympathetic toward hanky-panky induced tardiness. So as much as you would like him to bend you over his kitchen table, you had to ignore that particular desire.

As for the artistic urge . . . since he didn’t seem to hate you for The Magenta, maybe he would agree to model for you? And you were friends of a sort. Friends could ask friends to model for them, right?

“L-liquid soap,” you said, doing your best to sound normal instead of incredibly turned on. “I-I found it easier to work with when cleaning up paint.”

Matt didn’t look like he was convinced by your non-existent acting skills. But he went along with the change of subject. Then gave you another heart attack by revealing that his shirt and tie were silk while his jacket was wool with a silk lining. You had no idea how to clean paint off of those without damaging them . . . isn’t stuff like that dry clean only?

The answer was yes and no. The shirt was made of a type of washable silk that he could launder at home – on the gentle cycle with mild soap. The suit and the tie, however, were both dry clean only. But Matt knew how to prevent stains from getting set in his fancy clothes and you knew how to handle paint. Between the two of you, you worked a plan that should get the paint off while preventing damage to his clothes.

Using an old gift card that you used as a painting tool as a scrapper, you removed the bulk of the paint from the tie and jacket while Matt used his bottle of liquid dish-soap and water to wash his shirt in the sink. Then, you dampened a white washcloth with lukewarm water, added a tiny amount of the soap, before dabbing the affected areas. Before dabbing again with a separate cloth that was just dampened with water, then carefully blotting with another washcloth that was completely dry.

You tried to keep your mind on the task in front of you but kept getting distracted. By his . . . everything. You wanted to trace every muscle with your fingers. Or your tongue. Either would be enjoyable. Or both. Both was good . . . the only thing that wasn’t making you press your thighs together in an effort to relieve the ache in your cunt were the scars.

Not because you thought his scars were ugly. The scars were like kintsugi. The healed but visible damage made the person more beautiful, not less. But because the scars worried you. It looked like someone had tried very hard to kill Matt.

You hadn’t realized that being a lawyer was so dangerous . . . but then, Nelson & Murdock had gone up against some powerful people. People like Fisk. Had Fisk or someone like him sent someone after Matt? You glanced at his hands. He had the same calluses on his knuckles as your ex who was a boxer. Did Matt know how to box? Was that how he had survived the obvious attempt on his life?

You were curious but realized that some of the answers you wanted might require a lengthy conversation. Which you didn’t have time for. Assuming Matt was even willing to answer those questions. He might not be. Which was fine. Trauma was rather personal and you didn’t really know each other.

You returned to your task. Despite your frequent distraction, soon the clothes were cleaned to the best of your ability. All three items were hung on hangers to dry in the case of the shirt or await a trip to the dry cleaners for the other two. Something that you offered to pay for.

“No need for you to do that, sweetheart. It’s about time for that suit to go to the cleaners anyway.”

“But it’s my mess,” you protested.

You didn’t win the argument. But it wasn’t a fair fight. First, he was a lawyer. He argued with people for a living. You painted or served food and drinks. Second, he still hadn’t put on a shirt. It was very distracting. And he knew it. His opposition in court was so lucky that he had to keep all his clothes on in the courtroom. Otherwise, they’d might never win.

“Stupid, sexy Murdock,” you muttered quietly under your breath as you washed your brushes and palette. Not quietly enough because he laughed.

“I’m sexy?” Matt asked. Warmth flooded your face. Judging by that cocky smirk, he knew the answer to that question. Yes, absolutely yes. But you were absolutely not going to say that.

“I plead the Fifth,” you said. Which only made him laugh harder.

He opened his mouth, probably to tease you some more, when his phone started ringing out, “Foggy, Foggy, Foggy.”

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” he said.

“Go ahead,” you said quickly.

He flashed you a smile before answering his phone with a “What’s up, Fogs?”

You put away your things while Matt talked to his partner. From the sound of it, he was explaining why retrieving his phone was taking so long. A check on your watch – now cleaned of paint – warned you that you really needed to leave now if you wanted to be ready for work on time. You swung your tote up onto your shoulder.

Then found yourself in a quandary. It was rude to interrupt someone while they were on the phone but it was also rude to leave without saying good-bye. But it wasn’t like you could go just wave good-bye.

“Matt?” you called out.

“Hang on Foggy,” he said, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’ve got to go,” you said. “I’ll see you later?”

“You’ll have to. I can’t.”

For a moment, that answer confused you. But only for a moment. Blind joke. Not the first one he had made around you. It wouldn’t be the last. He seemed rather fond of them. Well, it was his disability. It certainly wasn’t your place to tell him that he couldn’t make jokes about it if he wanted to.

Besides sometimes the looks on people’s faces when he made them were very funny.

“Left myself wide open for that one, didn’t I?” you said.

“Yep,” he said. He looked very pleased with himself. “But yes, I’ll see you later.”

That made you smile. “Bye, Matt.”

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said before returning to his phone call. You closed the door to his apartment as quietly as you could, then made you way across the hall toward your own apartment. Time get for work.

Step one – a cold shower.

Notes

There are portable easels that are designed to be collapsed down and easily carried. I have one. Some of them come with an attached box that is meant to carry paint, brushes, and whatever else you need but that type is more expensive (about 70 dollars on the cheaper end) than one that is just the easel (which is about 20). Reader has a limited art budget and those fifty bucks she didn’t spent on an easel can buy a lot of paint and canvas.

I’ve found that tackle boxes and tool boxes make great carrying cases for arts and crafts supplies. The divided trays are very useful if the creative thing you are doing involves a lot of little pieces or tools like beading or jewelry making.

Reader took the subway for part of her journey because, according to what I could find, getting from Hell’s Kitchen to Central Park via subway takes about 14 minutes while walking that same distance would take about 40 minutes. So the subway it was.

Magenta is, generally speaking, purplish red color. The shades vary between more pink, more red, or more purple. Even paint doesn’t always agree. I have one set on acrylic paints that labels a color as ‘light magenta’ while a different set calls the same color ‘magenta’ and third just says ‘pink.’

Jackson Pollock (1912 – 1956) was an American artist who was part of the abstract expressionist movement. He is best known for his ‘drip’ technique where he would pour or splash liquid house-paint with frenetic movement onto the canvas which was laying flat on the floor. In some ways, his work reminds me of acrylic pouring which looks very cool but also very messy.

I mean no disrespect to those with an art degree. I started off majoring in fine arts and part of me wishes that I had stuck with it despite the challenges. One of my professors recommended getting your masters if you were going to major in art simply because then you could get teaching jobs in many places.

That contract thing is true but I’m not a lawyer and have never taken Contracts 101. Always get your legal advice from actual lawyers.

Turpentine is used to clean paint brushes and other tools when using oil paint. A low odor version is highly recommended but remember to only use it in a well-ventilated place as the fumes are toxic. It is also very flammable. You can use it to get oil paint off of your skin but it is very drying and probably isn’t be safe to use on places like your face. The skin there easily absorbs things (which is the primary reason that make-up has go through FDA approval).

For the record, blind people don’t have better senses than everyone else. They just pay more attention to the information from their other senses provide, things that us sighted people tend to ignore. And arguably have more practice identifying different sounds, smells, etc than someone who largely ignores that input.

While I cannot say that this happens in NYC, as I have never lived there, where I grew up (American southwest) and where I live now (Florida), the grandmas and aunties in the Latin community make and sell tamales during the winter holiday season. Maybe for some extra spending money for said holidays. In my experience, they are always excellent. I almost don’t consider it Christmas without some tamales.

The reason Reader feels like a jerk for tripping over Matt’s cane is that messing with someone’s mobility aid and/or not giving them enough space to use it is a dick move.

The Bow Bridge is a bridge in Central Park. You have probably seen it before since it is pretty popular for movies and television. Probably because it looks perfect for your sappy romantic moments, dramatic love confession, meet-cutes, etc. It also helps that it looks just as nice surrounded by leafy trees as it does covered in snow.

Bob Ross (1942 – 1995) was an American painter who was the host of an instructional art show called The Joy of Painting, which aired from 1983 until 1994, on PBS (public broadcasting station) in the US but also in similar public stations around the world. You can find the episodes on YouTube.

According to the internet, you can spot clean wool, silk, and other such fabrics like how Reader does without damaging the fabric. But it was the internet so take that with a generous portion of salt.

Yes, I do use an old gift card when I paint. To make smallish straight lines, very handy for fences and rain effects. I cannot speak for every artist but my painting tools aren’t limited to brushes and painting knives.

Kintsugi (“golden joinery”) is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer that has been dusted or mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. The point is not to hide the damage but highlight it, to treat the breakage and repair as simply part of the object’s history. And that having such a history makes it more valuable, not less.

#fan fic #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem! reader #matt murdock x you #happy little accident series

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space-owl · 5 days

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Stolas is incredibly classist!

And probably doesn’t realise it.

I already made a short post about it here but I want to go more into detail with all of this.

First I want to show how he is acting with demons that aren’t Goetia and then how his classism even bleeds into the relationship with Blitzø.

Disclaimer: I love Stolas, he is one of my favourite characters of the show! Doesnt mean though I wont critic him for some of the bullshit he is pulling

Stolas is constantly dismissing other demons and looking at all of them from a high angle. We can clearly see it when he interacts with Millie and Moxxie

Just look at his uninterested face too while Moxxie is talking to him

Not to forget he keeps referring to Imps as "little ones“ etc

Of course he is aware of his status sometimes and does use it to get into Ozzies. But he also does it while presenting himself on a higher angle than the poor bouncer in front of the club would’ve needed

Like Stolas you’re already one of the princes of hell, the guy KNOWS who you are! Why are you giving him this look??

He doesn't see any imp or even any demon who is ranked below him as equal. It shows again when he is directly attacked by Striker. Stolas was mostly chill about the situation and not even fully aware he was in danger!

Yes, he brings it up but he isn’t fully convinced of it himself. The first time he REALLY understands he is in big trouble is when he realises that his glare doesn’t work!

I don’t think Stolas doesn’t know what holy rope is. But I do believe that he himself didn’t think an IMP could possess such dangerous equipment!

And what shows it to me the MOST that he really doesnt seem to hold any respect to Imps that aren't Blitzø is this:

How he handles Pringles, the butler of the family!

He literally squeezes him so tightly the poor guy cant get any air anymore!

Just holding him and handling him as if he was an object! Dude is already getting dizzy and Stolas wont let go of him!

Yes I know I suppose this is mostly a visual gag to make the scene more entertaining. We just cant forget that animation is a long process to do. Anything, any action a character does is there for a reason! If Stolas WASN'T a person who wouldnt handle an Imp butler like this, it would'nt be in the scene!

This is already enough proof for me that Stolas is very classist. Its so casual for him and normal that he doesnt even seem to realise it! Why do I think that? Because it bleeds into the relationship with Blitzø!

All the things Stolas keeps saying about Imps, he also says directly to Blitzø.

Calling Blitzø "his little Imp", again just saying Imps are little and "things" to be posessed

Dismissing Blitzø when he tries to get serious, just saying he is cute even though Blitzø is trying to complain

Also the constant cheek pinching, something youd mostly do to a child.

And dont forget the most posessive thing of all of them to say in "Truth Seekers"

"Who dares to threaten my impish little plaything?" (youtube didnt pick up the audio here so no automatic subtitles appeared (holy shit im so thankful season 2 finally has proper subtitles!))

Stolas literally called Blitzø HIS "plaything", also pointing out the Imp part again.

Id say something like "oh but that was probably just before he got feelings for Blitzø! And then it changed!" I mean even if that was the case it wouldnt make it any better. But no, Stolas literally had a crush on Blitzø the first time he SAW him! Look, this is his literal first reaction:

Stolas always had feelings for Blitzø, but still he keeps downplaying Blitzøs feelings and totally ignores the class thing. Because he himself is already in a higher class! So he can just pick and choose which Imp he respects and which he doesnt.

Worst of all of this is that as a child Stolas was a LOT more open about those things!

Until his father "corrects" him

And Stolas rememberd this statement until his aduldhood. The only exeption he makes to this rule is Blitzø.

And Blitzø of course notices those things. Of course he notices the constant dismiss of Stolas! Being called a "Plaything" and a "little imp!" He is already self conscious enough. And that makes him even more vunerable and hyper aware of those things.

Even though Stolas showed general intersted in him someties, Blitzø already accepted himself as his little tool.

Moxxie even brings it up to Blitzø, obviously playing to Stolas feelings for him.

But Blitzø immediately thinks its still just about something sexual. And nothing else.

Because he cant see himself being anything else to Stolas than just a plaything. It doesnt matter how often Stolas was honest with him and showed interest. His constant belitteling and downplaying on him and also any other Imp that happens to be present while Blitzø is with him is enough.

With ALL of that context, its totally clear why Blitzø lashed out at Stolas in Full Moon. For him this confession came out of nowhere. He didnt have time to breathe or understand what was really going on there. And Stolas himself keeps ignoring their class difference and has 0 self reflection on that part so far, not getting why this is so upsetting to Blitzø.

"Blitzø, I think so very highly of you. I didnt realize you think so low of me!"

GEE STOLAS! I WONDER WHY BLITZØ DOES SO!

#okay time to go to bed #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #Stolas goetia #Blitzø #Blitzø helluva boss #blitz #Stolas #Stolitz #Full Moon #personal post

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doodlebeeberry · 7 months

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It's that time of year folks!!!

Very very excited to host the gift exchange once again! Past two years have been a ton of fun, so lets hope the third is even better!

if you wanna join, just reblog/reply to this post or dm me with what you'd like. full rules, dates, and details are under the cut, please read those fully first before joining!!! :]

Entries close midnight (est) November 27th!!

For the uninitiated, the osc gift exchange is exactly what it sounds like! you let me know via reblog/reply/dm what you'd like as part of your gift--whether that's a certain show, character, ship, oc, anything! Then, you'll be randomly assigned a giftee and will make a gift based on their request. Finally, once the day comes, you post your gift and @ the person its for!

the timeline looks like this:

Nov. 11-27: enter by letting me know what you'd like! as with previous years, I ask that you keep your gift requests sfw, and to please send me references for any ocs you may want as part of your gift. As well, if there's anything you cant do (ie, a character or paring that makes you uncomfortable) please let me know when you join!

Dec. 1: I'll let you know who you've been assigned! please be sure you have dms (or at the very least asks) open for this bit!

Dec. 1-30: Make your gift! this can be anything from art to writing to music to needlepoint--so long as you include the giftee's request, the possibilities are endless!

Dec. 31: post your gift, and be sure to @ who its for in the post! Please do not post your gift before this date!!! if for whatever reason this date does not work for you please let me know and we'll work something out!!

Assorted other things to note:

please make sure your gift requests are osc/ object show related! if you dont know what that is then this likely isnt the gift exchange for you lol

you dont have to do everything your giftee requests if you dont wanna. If they give you a list of 20 characters, you can pick 1, 5, 10, all 20, the choice is up to you!

if you need to drop out for any reason please let me know as soon as possible so I can reassign your giftee

not a hard and fast rule but if you could shoot me a message when you get your giftee letting me know you saw the message, itd be much appreciated!!!

you can not join anonymously! It wouldnt be fair to your giftee, in my mind, if you did :]

on a related note, while i try to make the exchange as open to everyone as possible, if i deem it necessary i can and will bar you from participating if your inclusion would be detrimental to other giftees. while i dont anticipate needing to do so (so there isnt really a reason for you to worry about it) this was an issue last year. In the very unlikely event that I dont let you join, please dont yell at me about it. just accept it and move on.

as per usual, ill be using the tag #osc gift exchange for the event, so feel free to tag your posts so i can find them! :D

And that's it! if youve got any other questions or comments, feel free to ask and ill do my best to answer them! Thank you! ^-^

#didnt wind up going with the form cause i dont have it in me to make one rn (i appreciate the input on the matter tho!)#and now for the tag spam. yay!#osc #object show community #ii #bfdi #tpot #bfb #bfdia #inanimate insanity #battle for dream island #hfjone #onehfj #osc gift exchange #object oc #gonna have to reblog this in the morning cause 9 pm is NOT a good posting time lmao

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yexthiccxa · 8 months

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The Angel with Horns Pt. 3

summary: things get a little steamy when your new love interest, geto, walks in on you messing around with gojo. one is lonely, two is a party, but is three really a crowd?

this part is pure smut & minimal plot so feel free to read it as a one shot. but there are some references to the other parts, so if you're interested in a little bit of plot, i'll link parts 1 & 2 below!

wordcount: 4.9k (this one is 3 chapters with an epilogue!)

c/w: gojo/fem!reader, geto/fem!reader, gojo/oc, geto/oc, modern!au, smut, fluff & smut, some plot, plot what plot, rough!sex, asshole!gojo, flirty!gojo, cocky!gojo, dom!geto, sub!gojo, soft!geto, rough!geto, threesome, spitroasting, anal play, anal, double penetration, mutual pining, confessing, teasing, flirting, playful banter, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, sensual tension, sexual tension, pet names, fingering, oral, fantasizing, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, inappropriate use of cursed energy, inappropriate use of cursed techniques

a/n: thanks for all the love on the last two parts! I wanted to try something a little different for this last part soooo i tried out multiple povs! let me know how you like it 👀

Read Part 1 Here | Read Part 2 Here

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

Chapter 9: Rules

SUGURU GETO

I walk into the apartment and find you settling yourself onto the table. Your chest rises and falls as you inhale deep breaths. From the side I get a glimpse of liquid dripping down your pussy. I can tell you’ve been fucked—fucked real good.

My gaze shifts to Satoru, and I’m nowhere near surprised. We’ve talked about the idea of sharing partners, but I didn’t expect him to act so soon—and especially with you. I’ve only had you in my bed for one night, but of course the little troublemaker couldn’t wait. When I told him I wanted to date you, I thought he’d have the decency to let me ask about sharing first. He’ll pay for that later.

I can’t blame him though, I mean look at you. The radiance in your face, the perkiness of your tits, the smoothness of your thighs—all of it ignites me every time I see you. It’d be insulting if he didn’t feel the same way too.

As you lay out in front of him, I notice how your body still trembles with pleasure. Knowing you were pleased by another man doesn’t bother me—not when I know I can do it ten times better. Nevertheless, I put on a scene for entertainment. “Satoru, you cheeky little bastard. When I said take care of her while I’m gone, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Satoru turns to me, like he’s searching for forgiveness. In my head, I laugh because I know it’s just for show. “Hey, I—” he stammers.

Your eyes snap towards me. I can tell you’re nervous, scared, confused. But don’t worry baby girl, let me take care of you…just like I always do. I lift my brow and form a soft smile to let you know I’m here to play. “Well, are you going to let me join, or am I just gonna sit here and watch?”

Satoru turns back towards you and I can tell his mouth is curling into that stupid smirk, “See angel, I told you he wouldn’t mind sharing.” He’s right, I don’t mind sharing. A pretty pussy like yours deserves to be filled to your heart’s desire.

It takes a moment, but your gaze becomes curious and your lips gently part. “Excuse me?” you ask softly as your eyes lock with mine.

“If you’re okay with it, of course,” I add.

The way you slowly rise from the table has me hard in an instant. You sit yourself up and I think back to this morning when I had you to myself. The taste of your lips still lingers on my tongue, the feeling of your clit still rests on my fingers. As the blood rushes through me I feel my hunger draw me closer to you.

“I’m okay with it. If you two are.”

I check in with Satoru and he returns a nod. His brow perks up and the look on his face says, I told you so.

I brush it off as I toss my clothes on the floor and make my way towards you. When I’m inches away, I feel your breath hit my chest. The sunlight from the window begins to fade and an overcast of red haze fills the room. We haven’t even touched and I’m already slipping into the beast you once knew.

I angle your head up and lean down to touch my lips onto yours. My kisses start off tender, but slowly become more desperate. I hear you purr in desire, but nothing can rival my growls of hunger. I grab your waist and pull you to the edge of the table until my cock teases your entrance. My grip gets tighter when I hear a yelp from your lips.

In the distance, Satoru clears his throat. I can tell he wants some, but he’s had you to himself for the last two hours. Such a greedy little fucker—it’s my turn now.

The noise causes you to hesitate, but I tilt your chin back towards me. “Let him watch.”

I continue to shower you with kisses down your throat as my hands move down to lift your thighs. I slip my tip inside your folds and edge you until you begin to moan. You’re wet, warm, and the ridges of your walls hook on to me, leaving me breathless. I keep it nice and slow, knowing how tight you are around me.

The feeling of your pussy around my cock makes me groan. It takes every bit of strength to stop myself from drilling into you. As you wrap your arms around me and drop your head back to release your cries, I feel the tension build up around my groin. When I finally drive myself inside, your grip on my neck activates and your moans bounce towards the ceiling.

I feel Satoru’s glare burn into my head as he lets out another cough. “Shut up, Satoru.” Fucking needy. “If you’re gonna use your mouth, at least put it to good use.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he huffs.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, so do it. Now,” I scowl back.

“Yes, sir.”

People may think Satoru is the strongest, but he’s got a weakness for authority—something no one else dares to give him.

I pick you up from the table so that your legs wrap around me and your fingers tangle into my hair. Without breaking your kiss, I turn you towards Satoru so he can make his way behind you and glide his hands around your waist. He kisses your neck for a moment, before slowly falling to his knees. His lips trail down your back until his hands and his mouth land on your ass.

His tongue gently grazes your center as he licks up the liquid from your pussy, and guides it to your rear. The feeling must make you tremble because all you can whisper is, “Fuck.”

The sound is wet, sloppy, but oh so wonderful. I continue to thrust myself into you, making sure each motion is filled with desire and intention. Seeing you writhe with pleasure on my dick sends goosebumps across my skin. I’m panting just to catch my breath, but the sound you make keeps sending me into a wild frenzy.

Your tone radiates through us, making our movements become more feral. I switch my grip to your backside so I can start pounding into you. Satoru leaves his tongue sprawled out against your ass, licking your hole every time you grind into him. Each stroke has you cursing under your breath.

Every time I slide out, my hold around you gets tighter, spreading you wide for Satoru to get his fill. I hear him moan until he works his mouth back up your spine, returning his face just inches from your ear. “Are you feeling good, angel?” he whispers.

You hum back in return.

I tilt my head to the side and shoot daggers back at Satoru. “I didn’t say you could get up.”

His brow rises with a hint of surprise.

A devious smirk tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Get back down.”

Satoru’s hands roam your body, but his gaze doesn’t break mine. “Make me.”

I set you down, and immediately catch you when your knees begin to wobble. I hope I didn’t break you just yet, we still have so much more to go. I glance over and see you longing for more. My god, you’re so beautiful—it pains me that I had to stop.

“Sorry baby girl.” I lean over to give you a kiss before I turn my focus to Satoru. “Looks like I have a brat to tame.”

I click my teeth to get his attention and point towards the living room. “You, couch.” To my surprise, Satoru actually listens.

Before we follow, I get down to your ear to make sure you’re alright. “Do you want to continue?” I whisper, making the hairs on your neck stand up.

“Yes.” My heart races when I see an eager smile dance across your lips.

I pull up one of the chairs from the table and position myself directly in front of the couch. As I relax into my seat, I gesture over to you. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s see how well you ride him.”

I see your cheeks flush and the space between your thighs tighten. When the room goes silent I can’t tell if the heartbeat I hear is mine or yours. As you walk your way over, I see the way the red light hugs your curves. Your body is a dream, I struggle to stay in control. Fuck, the rush of desire makes my dick pulsate, I can’t help but jack myself off.

When you reach Satoru, you begin to straddle him, but I stop you before you go all the way. Did you think I’d be able to get off without seeing that pretty little pussy of yours? “Nope. Remember, love. Eyes on me. The whole time.”

You turn around and the look across your face tells me you’re pleading for forgiveness. But it’s okay, you’re still our good girl. As you settle onto Satoru, he takes your thighs into his hands. I watch your folds stretch as you ease yourself onto him. Your effortless glide means I’ve done my job to lube you up—the thought sends a jolt through my body. As you slide yourself up and down his dick, I hear your breath begin to falter. You like this, don’t you?

Your tempo picks up and I hear you moan in delight. “F-fuck.”

My gaze trails from your eyes, to your mouth, and it continues to drop lower. With the way your hands are positioned on the edge of the couch, I can’t help but admire the way it accentuates your tits. God, these are all the places I want to kiss, but a wise man knows how to show restraint.

You continue to push yourself into Satoru, taking in every last inch of his dick. Every time you pick yourself up, I hear you hiss between your teeth as you thrust your way back down. The way you move shows me you’re approaching your peak.

When Satoru notices how much you’re enjoying yourself, he leans in close to whisper something in your ear. “He might be calling the shots, but remember whose dick you’re riding, angel.”

His comment seems to rip through you. I see a rush of desire ignite your soul as you pick up your pace. While I love seeing you pleasure yourself, it seems like the brat still hasn’t learned his lesson.

I glance at Satoru and arch my brow. “You know, I was going to be nice and let you come when she does. But just for that, don’t even think about doing so until I tell you to. How does that sound?”

He tries to speak, but the words barely come out. “Li–like a challenge, and I accept.”

Just as I thought, always a winner.

I rise from the chair and kneel in front of you, until my mouth is inches away from yours. I plant a soft kiss on your lips while my thumb gently plays with your clit. “Ride him and ride him well, beautiful.”

You let out a cry that sends a shock through the entire room. After that, the sound of your ass smacking Satoru’s hips is the only thing I hear. I look down to see how wet your pussy is—it’s absolutely soaked. As you drip down his shaft your head rolls back and you let out a cry. “Yes, good girl. Just like that.”

You drive yourself onto him and I’m impressed at how well you’re taking him. Each thrust becomes more passionate than the one before. You’re so close, so fucking close. I can see it in your eyes, feel it on your skin, and taste it on your lips. Come for us.

Satoru strains from behind. “Fuck, Suguru— I can’t.”

Wanting to come before our girl does? How rude. “I don’t care, hold it. Use limitless if you have to.”

“Suguru—”

My voice is cool and resolute. “No.”

Satoru struggles, but maintains control as you do one final push to find release. The glass inside your core has shattered and now you’re falling into pieces. Goosebumps form throughout your body and your skin heats up. Satoru must’ve used limitless because I feel the vibrations from his barrier tremble through your skin. As you try to steady your breathing I take my fingers and curl them under your chin, allowing you to shift your gaze to me.

“Good job, beautiful.” I take one last look into your eyes before sealing your orgasm with a kiss. “How are you? Do you feel good?”

You relax your body onto Satoru’s chest and look up towards the ceiling, “I feel fantastic.”

“Good. And you, Satoru?”

He looks at me through the sweaty strands of hair that graze his face. “You are a fucking sadist.”

I let out a soft laugh and pat him on the shoulder. “Looks like the little troublemaker has settled his debt.”

As I go to grab tissues to help clean yourself off, I hear your sweet voice call out to me. My ears perk up and I turn around to see your face. Everything about you, about this, about us is perfect. I take one more moment to savor you before I respond to your call.

“Suguru, I want to feel you too,” you say.

That’s my girl. My smile goes wide as I hand you the tissues and nudge Satoru with my elbow. “Hear that, Satoru? I guess someone wasn't good enough for our girl.”

He playfully shoves me back, letting out a soft chuckle.

“No—I…” you start.

Before you can finish wiping yourself down, I scoop you up and carry you over to my room. My head turns back to Satoru. “Let me show you how it’s really done.”

Chapter 10: Reverse

SATORU GOJO

I roll my eyes at the comment and follow you two into the room. Suguru lays you on the bed and rests at your side. I watch as you remain completely absorbed in his eyes. Tsk. Show off. He may know how to take control, but I’ve felt you enough times to know just how you like it.

I make my way over and lower myself onto the bed. As I steady myself with one hand, the other hand grazes your thigh. “Did you mean that, angel?”

You break eye contact with Suguru as you turn towards me. Your look shows defiance, but the curve of your lips show desire. Ever since we’ve reunited, your aura has been assertive, bold—just the way I like it. On the outside, you claim to hate my advances, but seeing your energy has told me quite the opposite. Every time you let your thirst take over, my craving for you intensifies.

Suguru places his hand across your waist for reassurance. “It’s okay, you can answer,” he says to you.

My eyes snap up and pierce right through him. “I didn’t ask you.”

His brow perks up in amusement. “Oh? Okay, I’ll bite.” Suguru eases off and gestures to me. “Please, continue.”

I turn back to you and check if you’re alright. The last thing I’d want to do is scare you away. Suguru and I can go at each other’s throats all we like—but right now, you are my priority. “May I continue?”

Your smile is sultry as your eyes lock on to mine. “Yes.” Your reply fans the flames within my core.

We hold our gaze as my hand wanders around your body. Your skin is smooth as porcelain. Your breasts feel supple and tender. The way you quiver from my touch has me instantly aroused. I can’t help but be mesmerized by your beauty.

I nuzzle my mouth into your neck while the pads of my fingers find their way to your clit. They’re met with the warm liquid between your thighs. You start to tremble as I rub circles around your center. “Tell me, angel. Did I not make you feel good earlier? Because I can stop touching you at any time.”

Your eyes close shut while a soft moan escapes your lips. Goosebumps form all over your body. “P-please, don’t stop.” Your voice is hushed, but desperate.

My eyes shift over to Suguru and I can tell he’s restless, waiting to pounce. I give him a nod before focusing my attention back to you. One by one, I shower you with kisses—up your neck, under your chin, I don’t ease up until my lips are met with yours. Suguru follows suit and uses his tongue to lick your nipple, his mouth handling you with the utmost care.

He trails his hand down your body until we both meet near your folds. I continue to pleasure your clit while he gently pushes his fingers inside you. The motion steals the air from your lungs. You do your best to steady your breath, but it gets countered by your moans. Everything about you at this moment is beautiful. The way you look, the way you taste, the way you sound—all of it makes me want to please you even more.

We continue our motions until our hands move in sync. The rhythm causes you to squirm. I can tell the tension is building up inside you, but unlike Suguru, I can give you what you want. I break our kiss to whisper in your ear. “Do you want us, angel?” The sound of my voice echoes through you.

You look up and nod your head to agree.

I adjust myself onto my knees, taking my length in hand. As your eyes follow me, my other hand threads into your hair. I angle you towards my cock and say, “Show me.”

You’re taken aback, but ultimately challenge me with a devilish smile.

What can I say? I may not be a sadist, but I’ll admit I’m still a tease.

As you crawl up to me, you wrap your lips around my tip. The warmth of your mouth resurrects my pent up pleasure from before. Your tongue swirls around my head while your hand moves up and down my shaft. You take me in with ease, but I fight the urge to erupt. God, angel. You feel so good.

As you continue to work my cock, Suguru picks himself up and positions himself behind you. He continues to plant his lips all around your body, carefully restraining the rest of his movements. I’m surprised he doesn’t jump at the opportunity to consume you, but his nod tells me he’s relinquished all control.

I decide to throw him a bone. After all, dogs need to eat too. “Suguru, our little angel is doing so well. Want to give her a reward?”

He listens intently, but his movements remain slow to keep the mood. When he kisses his way down your spine, he finally grabs a hold of your ass and rises to his knees. He teases your slit, wiping your liquid all around you. “Oh baby girl, you are still dripping.”

When he finally glides his way inside, I feel your whimper vibrate against my dick. Fuck. Once you fully adjust to his size, we coordinate our movements until our tempos match. I continue to slide my length into your mouth, watching you enjoy every last inch. I ask if you’re doing alright, but your response is a hum of desire. Oh, yes. Do you like it when we fill you like this? Your moans only get louder from there.

On the other end, Suguru’s thrusts start to speed up. The sound of his hips smack into you, each beat makes your throat pulsate around me. When your cries get louder, he grabs a handful of your ass before planting a firm slap on your cheeks. I admire the way you take us so well, a perfect mold made to fit us both.

As you savor the pleasure, Suguru and I buck our hips in unison, making you feel entirely whole. The sound of your pussy, the hum of your lips—it sends a rush of ecstasy through my soul. I look down to catch the bliss in your eyes. My heart flutters at your beauty.

I slow down my movements and ease my grip off your hair. I guide myself out of you and immediately pull you up until your face is inches away from mine. My lips completely devour you, but nothing can convey how grateful I am for this moment. I deepen our kiss before pulling away. “You’re doing so well, angel. You are truly perfect.”

Suguru’s smile tells me he agrees. He closes in on you until you’re sandwiched in between us, resting his hands at your waist. He whispers in your ear while I lower myself down and drag my tongue around your tits. “Can you handle more?”

You nod before letting your words tumble from your lips. “I need you two to come for me.”

“Where?” he asks, his tone is curious, but he already knows the answer.

You turn towards me with complete resolve. “Inside.”

A grin sweeps across my face as I instantly grab your hips and pull you down to straddle me. I let you grind your hips against me, spreading all of your liquid on the base of my dick.

When you finally have me coated, you lift yourself up and settle back down onto my cock. Your mouth was great, but your pussy feels divine. As you gently bounce yourself on top of me, the tension within me intensifies. “Fucking hell, angel. You’ve been getting railed all day and your pussy is still so tight. How do you keep up?”

You glance at me, with a smug look before getting down to whisper in my ear. “I had a great teacher.” You end your statement with a playful wink and it drives me absolutely feral. Your words alone have me on the brink of release, but I would never finish before satisfying you—that would just be rude.

As you arch your back to give Suguru a better view of your ass, he uses his fingers to tease the hole between your cheeks. “Baby girl, are you sure?” he asks.

You turn your head to speak to him directly. “Yes, sir.”

Suguru’s face lights up and becomes absolutely ravenous. His tight grip takes a hold of your waist and pushes his way inside, still being careful not to hurt you. His length stretches your asshole while mine stretches your pussy, making you scream in pleasure as your head drops to my chest. My movements remain shallow while Suguru’s rhythm takes the lead.

After the initial drive, he lets you mold to his size—gently letting the cream from your pussy lubricate your hole. As Suguru’s movements gradually get faster, I feel your heart rate increase. Your whimpers become unsteady and I can feel the way his thrusts vibrate through you. Every push has your walls tense around me.

“F-fuck. That feels—” you struggle to get out.

“Use your words, angel. Let us hear it.” My gaze locks onto you with conviction. You can take it.

“That feels so good. Don’t—” Your breaths are heavy, but your voice emerges with determination. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

There’s my feisty little angel.

Although my drives are stifled, there’s still enough room for me to thrust and work towards pleasure. Every time we move in sync the feeling leaves you gasping for air. Your whimpers turn to moans, and your moans turn to cries. The rhythm of our drives break you apart.

“Fuck–I’m…” You’re on the edge. The movements go faster.

“Don’t stop.” Your walls clench. The pressure gets harder.

“I’m comi—” You reach your peak. It’s okay because we’re there too.

“I’m coming.” You cry as you finally burst and your body relaxes around us. Ripples of euphoria cascade throughout the room. In the distance, I hear Suguru’s groan complement yours. He’s reached his limit too.

As your body writhes I can feel your pussy throb around me. It’s enough to jumpstart my climax, but I need just a bit more. When Suguru finally releases, I grip you tight to get in one last push. My tip drives into the edge of your cervix and it’s enough to send me over.

I feel my come shoot into you and a rush of bliss fills my body. I begin to tremble as it heats up against the warmth of your pussy. My blood runs hot, but my skin turns cold.

While I savor this peak, the sight of you replays through my head. I see your beautiful face, I feel your soft hair, I grip your luscious thighs. All of it intensifies the pleasure running through me. I wish this sensation would never end.

My breath begins to slow as the waves of my climax slowly subside. Feeling completely relaxed, I rest my eyes and I see visions—memories of us. We’re meeting in the hallway, kissing on the desk, laughing together and enjoying a meal. Even through all the quips and jabs, all I see is the way you smile. I bask in this moment for as long as I can. When I open my eyes, I’m happy to see that you’re not just a dream. Your gaze latches onto mine and I can’t help but smile.

You are truly a gift sent from above. Forget everything you used to know, this is why I call you angel.

Chapter 11: Release

I shift onto my back and my head sinks into a pillow. My eyes close shut as I regain my control. I can’t even wrap my mind around what just happened. There’s no way this is real, right?

Suguru and Satoru cuddle up against me and I realize that this is, in fact, reality. Satoru graces me with kisses on my neck while Suguru grabs a tissue to clean me up. I’m still high on their touch and drunk from their taste. If every day was like this, I truly wouldn’t mind.

“Still with us?” Suguru purrs. His voice is smooth as it echoes through me.

“Huh?” I open my eyes to see his face. His hair is swept up and tied, but his signature strand still falls.

Satoru jumps in. “We thought we lost you there, angel. How are you feeling?” As I turn to him, I get lost in the endless pools of blue that stare into my soul.

I let out a sigh of relaxation. “Never been better.”

“So…” Satoru pauses. “Does this mean I still get glowing reviews for being your mentor? Because I feel lik—”

Suguru cuts him off, ruffling his hair. “Shut the hell up.”

“Yes, sir.” Satoru’s tone is firm, but his eyes present a challenge. He turns away to mutter under his breath. “It’s a fair question though.”

I sneer and playfully nudge him off the bed.

“Hey!” Satoru yelps.

Suguru chuckles as he caresses my cheek. His face lights up with a teasing grin. “Come on love, no need for violence. I already have one brat to deal with, and I don’t need two.”

My eyes soften as I smile. “Yes, sir.” I gladly oblige.

There’s a moment of silence before we all break into laughter. Maybe this is what heaven feels like.

Epilogue

The morning rolls around, but this time we find ourselves in Satoru’s room instead. I’m still half asleep but I can feel Suguru kiss my forehead before he gets out of bed. As he heads over to his room, I realize that it’s Monday which means Suguru has to leave for his mission. It also means Satoru and I have to head to work. Damn. When he finishes getting ready, Suguru returns to the room to say goodbye.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” I say to him as I lift myself up to rest on my elbows.

Suguru lowers himself down to give me a kiss. “I’ll be back in a few days, but I promise you’re in good hands.” He tilts his head to wink at Satoru.

I look back to see that Satoru is awake. He stretches and yawns before wrapping his arm across my body. His body radiates against my cold skin. There’s a comforting presence to his embrace that I would’ve never expected. Once again I’m reminded that this is nice—this Satoru is nice.

“Have fun,” Suguru chuckles as he leaves the room.

When Suguru is out of sight, Satoru runs his hand up my waist. He trails my curves and looks up to me with a suggestive smile. A silent dialogue unfolds between us.

I shrug in agreement. What can I say? His touch is electric.

He pauses, and turns to grab an item off his nightstand, lifting his brow to gauge my interest.

Before I reply, I look at my phone to check the time. We have time. The corners of my mouth curve as I nod. I lay back down and raise my arms until my hands meet the headboard.

His pupils widen in surprise. Not what you were expecting? Though his eyes are blue, I can feel them turn into fire.

In the distance, I hear Suguru call out to us as he leaves. “I’ll be out for a little bit. So Satoru, I’m leaving it to you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of our girl.” Satoru calls back. We only have an hour before work starts, but he wraps his blindfold around my wrists anyways. “Isn’t that right, angel?”

a/n: thank you for reading!!! this was such a fun story to write. it's also my first fic so if you have any feedback, i'm happy to hear it (: also shout out to @0nyes for posting about Geto being a brat tamer, because that inspired a good bulk of this threesome hahaha.

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shimmeringweeds · 7 months

Text

For those interested in a sing-along: here is an English translation of the encore song from the Link Click Musical. (you know, the one one with the hug.)

The tentative title, supplied by a weibo user, is 追光者 "Zhuīguāng zhě" <- Recent lyrics call this 《追光的人》

Edit: It didn't hold up lol. Big thank you @chocolatexiaoshi for teaching me! 追光的人 means People who Pursue Light/ Chase Light/ or Seek Light . Some lyrics have been and will continue to be modified as we work on this!

追光 translates to “spotlight” in my dictionary. Literally, it means "to chase light" In this song, 追光 is personified as either 追光者 or 追光的人. Pretty cool term to use in a stage play! Google translates this as “light chaser.” I’ve chosen to go with “guiding light.” We will see how poorly that holds up to official translation ^^;

Each line punches the gut harder that the last. This song basically references the s2 ending, then ties it into the earthquake ark. It's brilliant. It hurts. Listen to the video while you read. Please enjoy :)

Disclaimer: As always, I am a novice translating for fun, because I want to sing-along and know what I'm saying. I can’t speak or read this language. If you've checked google translate, this doesn't add much extra, but! this post conveniently includes Hanzi, Pinyin, and English for you to reference + a few notes. I've primarily used Pleco, inputting word by word, with mdgb.net/google for extra clarification. I'm learning, but fairly confident that this is reliable, though not fluent. Please reach out about any mistakes you find!

link to video

link to origin lyrics: one, two , and a thank you to @sgdlr-asdfghjkl for providing them!

---

-追光者-

LG:

城市一隅寂静角落

Chéngshì yīyú jìjìng jiǎoluò

A quiet nook in the corner of the city

破旧相馆串眹你我

Pòjiù xiàng guǎn chuàn zhèn nǐ wǒ

Our shabby photo studio ties us together

目睹命运莫测

Mùdǔ mìngyùn mò cè

Witnessing unpredictable fate

难逃重蹈覆辙

Nán táo chóngdǎofùzhé <- idom follow the track of the overturned cart.

It's hard to escape the same mistakes

照片窥探他的时空

Zhàopiàn kuīchēn tā de shíkōng

Peaking at his timeline in the photograph

无人知晓真实的我

Wú rén zhīxiǎo zhēnshí de wǒ

No one understands the real me

相遇还是重逢, 他不知, 我也不能说

Xiāngyù háishì lànghuā, Tā bùzhī, Wǒ yě bùnéng shuō

Whether this is our first encounter or our reunion, he doesn't know and I also cannot say.

CXS:

善于洒脱遮掩脆弱

Shànyú sǎtuō zhēyǎn cuìruò

I'm good at being at ease to hide weakness

他的出现如光降落

Tā de chūxiàn rú guāng jiàngluò

He emerges like light descending

学会渥手言和

Xuéhuì wò shǒu yán hé

Learning to shake hands and make peace

释怀亲情的枷锁

Shìhuái qīnqíng de jiāsuǒ

I'll let go of the chains of familial affection.

谁都有难圆的梦不止是我

Shéi dōu yǒu nán yuán de mèng bùzhǐ shì wǒ

Everyone has unfulfilled dreams, not just me.

LG:

遗憾指引着赶路的我

Yíhàn zhǐyǐnzhe gǎnlù de wǒ

Regret guides me in my pursuit

CXS:

回忆温暖着迷路的我

Huíyì wēn nuǎn zháo mílù de wǒ

Memories warm me when I’m lost

Both CXS/LG:

绕过岁月错落, 不问值不值得,

Ràoguò suìyuè cuòluò, bù wèn zhí bù zhídé

Detouring through time scattered around, don’t ask if it’s worth it or not

打破轮回的规则

Dǎpò lúnhuí de guīzé

Break through the rules of the the time loop

Refrain:

我一次又一次全力以赴, 跨越时间的沟壑

Wǒ yīcìyòuyīcì quánlìyǐfù, kuàyuè shíjiān de gōuhè

Again and again I’ll give my all, leaping across the ravine of time

无视黑夜白昼的界限, 试图换一个结果.

Wúshì hēiyè báizhòu de jièxiàn, shìtú huàn yī gè jiéguǒ

Ignore the boundary between night and day, and attempt to exchange one outcome

经历过, 才看破

Jīnglìguò, Cái kànpò

With experience, the ability to perceive

人生剧情总独特又重合

Rénshēng jùqíng zǒng dútè yòu chónghé,

The unique sums of life’s play will coincide again <- (arithmetic language. each timeline = a sum and you add timelines together to find a solution.)

却依旧不妥协不退缩, 让难题被弥合

Què yījiù bù tuǒxié bù tuìsuō ràng nántí bèi míhé

But still, don't compromise, don't cower and the problem twill be solved

每一次击掌后踏上旅途重返分岔的路口

Měi yīcì jí zhǎng hòu tà shàng lǚtú chóng fǎn fēn chà de lùkǒu

Every high five sets us back on the journey, we return to the branching crossroads

逆转時空的代价需要感性和理性拉扯

Nìzhuǎn shíkōng de dàijià xūyào gǎnxìng hé lǐxìng lāchě

The price of reversing time requires perception and reason's pull

追光者, 平凡者

Zhuī guāng zhě, píngfán zhě

People pursuing light, Ordinary people

不能插手为何感同身受

Bùnéng chāshǒu wéihé gǎntóngshēnshòu <- idiom: "to feel indebted as if the favor were received in person", meaning: "to feel as if it happened to oneself."

If you can’t lend a hand, why do you sympathize

任往事一幕幕重演着

Rèn wǎngshì yīmù mù chóngyǎnzhe

Allow past events to play out, reenactor

却只能铭记职责

Què zhǐ néng míngjì zhízé

But we must bear responsibility

Chen Xiao and his Mom:

追光的人穿梭不同时空撕开时间的裂缝

Zhuīguāng de rén chuānsuō bùtóng shíkōng sī kāi shíjiān de lièfèng

The people who pursue light go back and forth between different times and space, ripping open cracks in time

尘埃落定的回忆激活过去与现实交错

Chén'āiluòdìng de huíyì jīhuó guòqù yǔ xiànshí jiāocuò

The memory’s dust has settled, causing the past to intertwine with present <-(激活- lit. chemical activation)

翻越着, 感受过

Fānyuè zhe, gǎnshòu guò

To climb over, to experience

不能重来的也还有更多

Bùnéng chóng lái de yěxǔ hái yǒu gèngduō

There are probably many things we cannot do over

却偏要去折叠去缝合让心结被愈合

Què piān yào qù zhédié qù fénghé ràng xīn jié bèi yùhe

But I must go fold, go suture, so this knot in my heart can heal

——

All:

追光的人圆满他们的梦抚平自己的伤口

Zhuīguāng de rén yuánmǎn tāmen de mèng fǔ píng zìjǐ de shāngkǒu

People who pursue light will satisfy their dreams and smooth their own wounds

逆转时针的能力操控宿命与现实相逢

Nìzhuǎn shízhēn de nénglì cāokòng sùmìng yǔ xiànshí xiāngféng

The ability to reverse the hands of the clock manipulates fate to meet reality.

追光者, 旁观者

Zhuīguāng zhě, pángguān zhě

People pursuing light, A bystander

轨迹从不许人失而复得

Guǐjī cóng bùxǔ rén shī'érfùdé

The trajectory will never allow a person to lose and regain

决不能任遗憾摆弄着, 让悔恨成为执着

Jué bùnéng rèn yíhàn bǎinòngzhe, ràng huǐhèn chéngwéi zhízhuó

Never can regrets be fiddled with, remorse will become attachment

LG:

追光者守护你救赎我

Zhuīguāng zhě shǒuhù nǐ jiùshú wǒ

People pursuing light will defend you and redeem me

让遗憾告别生活

Ràng yíhàn gàobié shēnghuó

To make regret depart from life

#link click musical #lyrics #people who pursue light #shiguang dailiren #时光代理人 #link click

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inferencesarchives · 9 months

Note

Hey can I Request a headcannon of the ancient Heroes (and dark enchantress I guess) reactions and Feelings towards a new hero in town with the powers of Spider-Man.

Bonus points if you add references towards the villains.

The Fantastic Spider-Cookie!

dark cacao, golden cheese, hollyberry, pure vanilla, white lily (not really x reader but uh you can think of it like that if u wanna this is mostly just a random au tho)

summary: how do the ancients react to the new superhero in town?

warningns: mentions of fighting, possibly ooc golden cheese/white lily? (written before their release), also not proofread sorry im tired

confused at first. also very suspicious of the new hero. just who is this cookie, and what are their intentions?

he tries to uncover the identity of this strange hero, but to no avail.

after a few months, he eventually gets used to the presence of the hero. as long as they aren't causing too much trouble, he doesn't have a problem with them.

he does find it a bit annoying whenever spider-cookie gets slammed into the side of the citadel by doctor octopus cookie during a battle though.

as soon as the new superhero shows up, she's interested.

she really wants to know who spider-cookie really is, but of course, she can't find any solid evidence that could lead to their identity, which leaves her a little frustrated.

sometimes she can't help but wonder why exactly spider-cookie decided to use their powers to help the city, but she's not complaining, soooo....

cheers (rather loudly) whenever spider-cookie ends up triumphant after a long and fierce battle against the spot. also gives the hero a high-five if she has time after the battle.

she's surprised when the hero shows up for the first time, but she certainly welcomes them with open arms.

she tries to ask spider-cookie directly who they really are, but, obviously, the hero keeps their identity secret. she doesn't really mind, through, as long as they continue to keep the city safe.

she tries to get to know the cookie. she's curious as to what they're like and why they decided to use their power for good (and if they'll be her drinking buddy).

after spider-cookie wins an arduous battle, she can't help but have a feast in their honor to celebrate.

very confused when spider-cookie first shows up. like who?? are you??? why?? do you have spider powers??? h U H????????

he is happy that the new superhero is helping take care of criminals though. it makes him less stressed while he's working.

he does get a bit curious about who the mysterious hero really is, but he knows not to butt into other cookies' business.

he does get a bit worried whenever spider-cookie has to fight a villain, but he knows the hero is plenty capable of defeating them.

confused and surprised when the hero shows up for the first time. also a bit concerned, since she's not really sure what spider-cookie's intentions are.

she tries to figure out the identity of spider-cookie of course, but obviously she can't find any leads.

after a little over a year since the hero showed up, she eventually gets used to the hero being around the city. of course, she's still a bit suspicious of them, but she figures that if they wanted to do something bad, they would have done it by now.

she's always happy whenever the hero defeats a villain though. it makes the city safer and makes her work easier.

a/n: anon im so so sorry for the delay,, writer's block has been absolutely kicking me in the ASS,, but i finally finished this request after like forever- now that this is done, ill officially be starting to revamp my blog!! yay yippee okay byE

thanks for stopping by!

wanna submit a request? see my requesting rules here.

taglist:

wanna be tagged? let me know!

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eschergirls · 3 months

Text

March 2024 Escher Girls Update and Patreon Thank You!

Hi everybody!

It's a new month, so it's time for a site update and to thank our awesome Patreon subscribers!

First, I've restored more posts that were broken in the move from Tumblr due to being animated gifs or posts/users being deleted/leaving Tumblr before the export, etc... I also reformat all the posts to be easier to read and add image descriptions to all the images. This month, one of the posts I restored was this great breakdown and redraw by LessTitsNAss of the Superman vol. 3 #9 cover featuring Anguish/Masochist punching Superman while in a boobs and butt pose. At the time the preview of the cover came out, the character was named Masochist, but I believe she was renamed to Anguish when the comic was actually published, hence why some of the posts still refer to her as Masochist. I put a combined image of the redraw and breakdown as the image for this post, but if you want to see larger versions of each part, go check out the post!

And I'm continuing to work my way through the Tumblr inbox backlog so old submissions might be showing up. Due to the way Tumblr piles up everything in descending order of newest first, a lot of the older stuff got buried since I get a lot of submissions, and it takes a while for me to get to it. I'm really sorry if it's taken this long for your submission to show up.

I've also been continuing to appeal mistakenly flagged posts by Tumblr's algorithm which can't tell the difference between stuff like a solid coloured body suit and actual nudity (it flagged Johnny Storm as being naked, for instance because he was on fire). The algorithmic flagging, sudden rule changes, and other controversies, are the reason I host Escher Girls independently as well as cross-posting on Tumblr because then there's an archive of the posts that aren't affected by posts being flagged or removed on Tumblr or if Tumblr goes down or something.

And it's also why I really appreciate everybody who supposed us on Patreon and Ko-Fi. <3 It helps me pay for server costs, upgrades, domain hosting, and other things that help to keep the site going. :)

So I want to thank everybody who supported Escher Girls on Patreon in February!

Thank you so so much to:

Anne Adler Cat Mara CheerfulOptimistic Chris McKenzie Em Bardon First Time Trek Greg Sepelak Ian Cameron Ken Trosaurus Kevin Carson Kim Wincen Kristoffer Illern Holmén Leak Manuel Dalton Mary Kuhner Max Schwarz Michael Mazur Miriam Pody Morgan McEvoy randomisedmongoose Rebecca Breu Ringoko Ryan Gerber Sam Mikes Sean Sea SpecialRandomCast Thomas

And a special thank you to PJ Evans for donating on Ko-Fi!!! I really appreciate it. :)

Also a huge thank you to everybody for reading, submitting, and generally commenting and engaging with Escher Girls! It makes running the site so worth it. :)

For those who want to follow us without using Tumblr, we have an RSS feed. (For newbies, RSS stands for Really Simple Syndication and is basically a feed you can read using an RSS reader. Simply copy and paste https://eschergirls.com/rss.xml into an RSS reader and it will keep you up to date on Escher Girls!)

Thank you all so much,

Ami

If you have any issues with the site or suggestions to improve it, please do not hesitate to contact me and let me know!

If you wish to support Escher Girls, you can subscribe to our Patreon at: https://www.patreon.com/ami_angelwings or donate through Ko-Fi at: https://ko-fi.com/amiangelwings.

#patreon #update #note

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dyns33 · 1 year

Text

Split

A little silly Morpheus x female reader

No one knew how or why this happened at the time. Those who knew said nothing, and did not come to help.

But one day the Dreaming split in two. It happened so fast that the inhabitants didn't immediately understand what had just happened, only noticing that one side of the kingdom had blue skies, while the other was stormy.

The castle also had changed. One side white, one side black.

"The boss is making changes ? He's pissed off ?" Matthew asked Lucienne, whose library had also been cut in half.

"I don't know. Yesterday it was still raining, but I didn't notice any change in our lord's mood."

"Still sad because of Y/N ? He's the one who left her, right ? I don't understand why he's sad, and now this."

"You'll have to ask him. If we can find him."

Outside it was no longer raining, and the balcony where Morpheus had stayed for days was empty.

The throne room was out of place. Neither did his private room.

It was as if he was no longer there. Or not totally. Not fully.

"Hello, dear Lucienne. Loyal Matthew. It's good to see you."

The voice was calmer, softer, but it was Morpheus' voice. Except he wore white clothes, his hair was white too, he was totally white. Only his starry eyes remained, staring at them as he smiled.

Smiled !

"... My Lord, are you all right? The palace...have you made any changes?"

"There have indeed been some changes, Lucienne. Sorry to have worried you. We didn't think before we acted. From now on, I, Lord Dream, would rule over this part of the castle, while Lord Nightmare will be in charge of the other half. You will have to see with him what he wants to do, that's not my problem."

"Lord... Nightmare ?"

"Yes. Excuse me, I have to go check on the dreamers."

Dreamers obviously meant those who had sweet dreams. Those visited by bad dreams were the domain of the other half, Lord Nightmare, who remained untraceable, hidden in the shadows of the palace.

Among the "good" dreamers, Matthew noticed that there was Y/N.

A lot.

Whenever he had time, Dream watched her with a smile, making sure she was fine and that her nights weren't restless. Since the big change, she hadn't had a single nightmare.

Maybe the raven wasn't wrong when he said it had to do with her and their breakup.

He needed to know more.

First, he asked the new boss. Because even though he had changed, he knew the old boss didn't like things being done behind his back.

Dream didn't seem upset by his request. He no longer seemed able to feel any negative emotion, still smiling and thanking Matthew for his concern.

"I miss my sweet Y/N, I admit it. I was stupid to let her go, when she had done nothing wrong. I would like to see her again, but I don't know if she would be happy. She has every good reason in the world to be mad at us."

Matthew had noted that the white boss sometimes talked about him saying "I", then saying "we". He often said "we" to refer to actions he was not proud of, in reference to when he was a single entity ruling over dreams and nightmares.

The little raven tried to talk to the master of bad dreams, but he did not come out of his hiding place.

So he went to ask Lucienne if it was a good idea to talk to Y/N. She wasn't sure, so Matthew decided on his own that it was a good idea.

Calm, patient, kind, Y/N let him into her home, offering him a small bowl of water and agreeing to listen to what he had to say.

She would have had every right not to open the door to him, yelling at him to leave her alone, after the horrible breakup with Morpheus.

"Why did you break up, if I may ask ?"

"You'll have to ask him. Everything was fine and one day he told me he didn't think we were meant to be together."

"Ouch. Not cool, boss. Not cool, and weird, because he's been very sad for weeks, and now this. You... Could you talk to him ? Talk to them? I don't know about Nightmare, but Dream seems to want it."

"I'll think about it."

Since she was calm, patient, and very kind, Y/N didn't think long and the same evening, she found herself in the Dreaming, following Matthew in the strange new corridors of the palace.

As the raven had said, Dream seemed happy to see her. He smiled, even more than he had since he appeared, the stars in his eyes dancing and twinkling as he walked towards her.

"Y/N... My love... I cannot express the joy that embraces me to welcome you here again. Aren't you angry with me ? With us ? I will kneel before you and kiss your feet until you forgive me if you have to."

"That won't be necessary."

"Noble heart. You are so kind to me, I..."

"What is she doing here ?!"

The walls shook and Matthew really tried not to be afraid as he saw the creature coming out of the shadows, its eyes blank, its face cruel, its long hooked fingers hanging down its scrawny body, covered in dark clothes.

A real Nightmare, without a doubt, which stared at Y/N with a look full of hatred.

"She's not welcome here ! Not after what she did ! She hates us."

"No, you are the only culprit, and the only one concerned." Dream replies by standing in front of Y/N. "So go back to your lair, and leave us in peace."

Nightmare stopped short, grimacing as it showed its sharp teeth, but there was a sadness in the back of its eyes, pain. He groaned but said nothing, stepping back into the darkness that seemed to move.

This dissuaded Matthew from following him, too frightened, and the little raven stood in front of Y/N when she moved in the direction of the dark corridor.

"Nope, nope. Bad idea, kid. Better leave him alone, he'll probably calm down."

"Matthew is right, dear heart." Dream said taking her hand. "Nightmare doesn't deserve your attention anyway, nor does he want it. We could walk in the gardens, or visit the two brothers."

Maybe it was because the sun was rising in the waking world, or because she was confused because he had just happened, or because she didn't feel like spending time with him, but Y/N didn't have time to answer, disappearing from the Dreaming and opening her eyes in her bed.

Almost immediately, Matthew visited her, to see if she was okay.

"I mean, I was worried, Nightmare is really scary and he seems to be really mad at you. Dream is worried too, he was glad I came to see you. He promised you wouldn't have any bad dreams, they have some sort of arrangement, I didn't understand everything. Anyway, are you alright ?"

"Yes. Nightmare has returned ?"

"No sign of him, but I'm scared as soon as I see a dark spot. He might be hiding in there."

"Why is he mad at me ?"

"No idea, Dream says it's his fault and we should just ignore him. Oh, he wanted to know if you wanted to feed the pigeons with him."

"... Not today."

Neither that day nor the following days obviously, Y/N avoiding Dream like the plague and asking lots of questions about Nightmare.

This ended up hurting the master of sweet dreams who continued to smile anyway, but displaying a sad smile and remaining alone under a fine rain, just like Morpheus before the change.

This greatly annoyed the Master of Nightmares, who again came out of hiding to yell at Lucienne and Matthew, ordering them to banish Y/N and not let her near Dream again.

"That idiot is fragile and innocent. He thinks she loves him, and hates me, but he's wrong. She doesn't love us. She proved it, again."

"Boss... Well, second boss... Well... It's nonsense! "

"Obey, Matthew ! Don't let her come back here !"

Matthew obeyed, and he didn't bring Y/N back, but he went back to see her to tell her what had happened.

Dream's words and Nightmare's words intrigued her even more, as she couldn't understand why one was so furious saying she didn't love him, and the other replied that he deserved it.

Because Y/N had loved Morpheus deeply, she still had a lot of affection for him despite their breakup, and she worried about this split in two.

That was why she wasn't interested in Dream, who wasn't totally him, and she wanted to understand what was happening to Nightmare.

To find a way to bring Morpheus back.

"Oh ? Maybe we should tell him. The boss wasn't good with people, so the two bosses ? They must be even worse !"

"I don't think Nightmare will want to listen to me. And Dream... I didn't mean to hurt him, really. It's just weird, I can't explain."

"Nah, I understand. I'm going to ask him if he accepts an audience."

Dream gladly accepted, although he seemed disappointed that she wasn't coming just for him and only him. He listened to what she had to say, sighing sadly when she was done.

"It's not your fault, my love. We should have warned you, asked your permission. We understood your fear and your disgust. We tried to accept it, but it was too hard. To know that you couldn't love us entirely. But we couldn't live without you either, so we came up with this idea. Nightmare won't terrorize you anymore, I promise, and I'll love you in a conventional mortal way."

"... What ?" was Y/N's only response.

“Don't you remember ? That night, that tragic night. We wanted to love you, totally. Like an Endless can love. You found yourself in us, and we in you. only one. But you were scared. You panicked, you begged, you woke up... You were crying in your bed. Oh, my love, I'm so sorry."

"That dream... I was floating naked in a dark void. There was a voice, and I felt... I felt so many things. Was it you ? I mean, Morpheus? I thought it was a kind of nightmare."

"In a sense, yes, since our primary essence is partly made up of nightmares. We should have known you wouldn't like that."

"I didn't say I didn't like that."

"You were scared." Dream noted, smiling slightly. "You cried."

"I told you, I felt a lot. Too much. It was intense. Scary, yes, but also exciting. I felt full, and empty, and good, and lost. And when I I woke up, there was nothing left, and I didn't know if it was worse or not. I suddenly had a feeling of lack. I couldn't wait to see you. You left me the next day. "

"… My love ? You… don't hate us ?"

"Of course not, I love Morpheus. I didn't know it was him, otherwise I would have been less scared. I know he spoke to me, but everything is a blur. There was so much . Matthew is right, he's really not good, I wish he'd talked to me."

"And you're not happy with the changes ? I need to find Nightmare."

It was not so easy to find Nightmare. You couldn't find a nightmare, it was the nightmares that found you, and obviously their master didn't want to be located.

Lucienne asked all the dreams present in the castle to help them, while Matthew flew over the surrounding gardens and plains.

Y/N was the only one to go further, to the caves.

There, deep in a dark cave where whispers and moans echoed, she found Nightmare, lurking in a corner, her back to him.

"... What do you want ?"

"Morpheus thought I didn't fully accept him. That I didn't accept you, and that's why we're in this situation. But that's not true."

"... How could that be wrong ? No one loves me. I am a monster. All creatures fear me and only wish to have sweet dreams. Dream is the lord of all, stories, cats, hope. He doesn't need me, and you'll be happy with him. I belong here."

"Even though Dream is very nice, he's...too nice. I love Morpheus, and Morpheus is partly nightmarish, torturous and difficult. I love his smiles, his poems and his starry eyes, but I also love his fury, his impatience and his emptiness. That night... It was him, totally him, and I didn't see that. But I loved that moment. I loved you. Now, I miss him. Will you let me have him again, dear Nightmare, or do you hate me too much ?"

The Nightmare slowly turned towards her, growing until it engulfed the entire cave, leaning towards her with an indescribable expression.

"I don't hate you. I never hated you. I would torment you until the end of time if I could, and if you wanted to. But since you don't just want Dream, you don't just want of me."

"No, I want Morpheus, my beautiful, my tender, my dangerous and stupid Morpheus."

"Very well then."

The earth shook slightly, the clouds swirled in the sky and the inhabitants of Dreaming were very afraid when they saw their kingdom split in two, reforming to form one, as before.

Y/N returned to the castle, where she found Lucienne and Matthew, unsure whether to enter the throne room.

Indeed, Lord Morpheus was there, reading a book, as if everything was perfectly normal.

So Y/N came in, approached him and greeted him, kissing him on the cheek, like she did before, before they broke up, before all of this.

"Hello Morpheus."

"Good morning, my love." he replied, continuing to read.

"I had a weird dream where you were split in two."

"I had a weird dream where you said I was stupid."

"Oh, I didn't say that !" laughed Y/N while shaking head. "I have said many things, and so have your parts. Your parts I love, as I love the whole, in whatever form. And the next time you visit me in your most pure on, please tell me, so I could prepare myself. I am only a mortal, my little heart is fragile and I have a hard time with emotions. Kind of like you, but differently."

"... I see. I'll let you know, love."

"Thank you, my stupid darling."

He said nothing, let her sit beside him on the throne, and observed what he read. Absolutely as if nothing had happened, except for a moment of bewilderment on the part of the king of dreams and nightmares, too little self-confident to believe that we could totally love him, and too proud to talk about it with his dear lover.

Luckily he was wrong and she loved him.

And luckily Matthew rarely obeyed orders.

#sandman #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless fanfiction

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