#instead of accidentally putting it in my drafts for a day

[hecatesbroom]

Another fic?? You bet! I almost finished this about 4 weeks ago, when I got sidetracked by the Dorothy gets dipped fic, so I finally managed to add the finishing touches here :) it's been in the works for about 3 months (off and on; many different projects got in the way) so I'm happy to finally be able to say it's done! (after that final edit at 3 am I posted about last night lol)

Summary

When Blanche announces that she thinks she's pregnant, each of the girls deals with it in her own way. (They find each other in Rose's bedroom in the end, for one reason or another.) // an exploration of S02E01: end of the curse, and what happens in between

[shalotttower]

Fractalize (part 2)

Title: Fractalize Fandom: Hunter x Hunter Summary: "You do this sometimes," he continues, tugging a bit harder. "When I ask a question and it takes you longer to respond. When we watch a movie, and I'm sure you stopped following at least twenty minutes ago." Word count: 2100+ Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female) Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating, morbid pondering, morbid imagery, psychological manipulation, intrusive thoughts, non-con touching, non-con kiss. I start thinking that sad is probably my favourite genre to write at this point. Part 1 Part 3 is in question. I have some drafts, but not sure if it'll become anything.

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Your mother always smelled of fresh linen and something powdery, like her face cream which you tried once in secret. The fragrance held you mesmerized, and when the jar accidentally dropped from your hand, shattering into pieces, it lingered everywhere: on the bathroom tiles, in the cracks and narrow space under the sink. Her silent disappointment was so overpowering that you cleaned the mess three times.

That scent clung to her knitting needles too when she sat with yarn on her lap. It made way into your mind place, waiting for the most inappropriate of moments to resurface: she would show you how to knit, loop after loop, and eventually you were able to create your own tiny scarf.

Hideous, that's what it was.

But also the first thing you ever knitted, so you cherished it, not caring for the holes and loose threads. She called it pretty, mothers do lie like that.

"I was thinking," Chrollo begins. Clean plates are stacked next to a dish rack, ready to be dried. You help him sometimes with this mundane chore out of boredom or a faint allusion to the life you had.

"Mm."

When you stand so close, his shoulder occasionally touches yours, and a lump forms in your throat, a very unimportant physical aspect of your being that you've stopped paying attention to long ago. You swallow it away, like every single morning before putting on the same shirt for the eighth day in a row.

Dry and repeat.

"Is there anything specific you'd like to do today?"

You pick up another plate. How odd. A few months ago this question would've made you ecstatic. Not that there was a real chance to sway Chrollo's plans, but it was a gesture, the pretence that your input mattered, and you took everything from it, until it started tasting stale. A shy kind of feeling, misplaced and fragile, would bloom in your chest, and prompt you say something soft, silly and naive: 'maybe we can have a picnic?', 'I'd like a carrot cake', 'yes, I want to watch that period drama for the hundredth time.'

And he would agree sometimes. Or suggest his alternative instead, which turned out more often than not to be less favorable, but you accepted it because what else was there? In-between the walls decorated with expensive paintings, books you already read three times, between Chrollo who listened intently to every word and a faint buzz of some high-end place, you chose to take whatever you could.

It doesn't bother you anymore, going or not going. Doing nothing or doing something. Being with him in a room or being alone, even though the last one is more compelling. The initial excitement that came with having small choices has passed. You think sometimes that if you took a knitting needle and sunk it deep into your chest, the surface around it would start crumbling and bare a hollow cavity with just ribs and dusty spaces.

Chrollo's suggestions are very thought out. Aimed to convince you that this arrangement isn't that bad after all, but also aimed to bring him something from it, be it sitting uncomfortably close to you on a sofa or holding your hand the entire walk. His presence is stifling in more ways than one, and you've been choking, choking, choking on it for so long, that finally all those cracks running across your insides started to feel liberating.

"No," you say. "Not really. Anything you want is fine."

Chrollo's been asking this more often lately. What you want to eat and what you want to do. Even whether you want to go out sometimes (with him, of course, never alone). Perhaps he's trying to figure any new preference you might have. Or a part of him can sense this deterioration that's slow to set in, but once it does - it stays.

"Dear," there's a tone in his voice. It's not worry per se. Chrollo doesn't worry for you, he worries for that little world of his, made of forced interactions, silk bed sheets and fake domesticity, which you're a part of, an intricate cog he can keep closely tucked to his side. Sheltered, protected, cared for - these words don't fit. So you use other instead, like imprisoned, kept, thing. He likes to have them, from trinkets he steals to human beings - you. Maybe it comes from years of owning nothing at all, having nothing at all, and now the allure of having much and more is like second skin.

You've heard stories about children abandoned to their own devices. Those who were left to roam the streets, scavenge through trash and fight other kids for a half-eaten sandwich or a can of beans. You wonder if he was like that, with messy hair, bony limbs and a desperate need to own something that no one could take.

Bit by bit you slip.

That tone means he's sensing it already, that bit by bit you're trying to leave him behind.

Chrollo always catches up with things easily. From the way he grips your arms, you wonder if that's what he did just now, caught up.

"Yes?"

The dishes are all done, clean and sparkling. The sink shines too, almost mocking you with its perfectness - there's nothing to do anymore. Your mind space of fake wooden floors and wide windows is waiting to be occupied, but it would feel wrong to retreat there so soon. Chrollo will ask questions, and if you're not able to keep up, he'll notice too. He slides both palms down your skin, squeezing a tad harder at the elbows; and so you stare into the sink.

His hands aren't soft at all. They're a little dry from soap, callused around fingertips. How effortless it would be for him to break your bones, one by one, starting from the wrist, but that won't happen; no, all that comes from him is words whispered in your ear, caresses and cruelty wrapped in kindness - it sounds poetic when phrased this way.

Your reflection stares back from the stainless metal. She doesn't look bad. Chrollo takes good care of her, makes sure she eats balanced meals and drinks enough water. She looks alright, with shiny hair and healthy nails.

The eyes is what doesn't match this picture of okay-ness. Not empty. Not vacant. Just frozen in time and very, very still.

Chrollo presses closer until his chest is touching her shoulder blades. You wonder if he considers it a victory, this silent compliance. It's not acceptance really, because that should be accompanied by a sense of peace or fulfillment and none of the two are currently present. It's not even resignation - that requires energy to acknowledge defeat.

If neither of those, what is it then?

"You've been awfully quiet today."

A drop of water falls from the tap and slides down the drain.

"The whole week in fact," his thumb strokes her stomach through the fabric. Slow circles, up and down. Chrollo enjoys physical closeness so much that it should be surprising for someone like him - reserved, calm and collected - to thrive on such things, but you suppose when it comes to her there's an exception.

"Not that I mind it, but if something's bothering you, you know that I'm always ready to listen."

There is something bothering you actually. Many things. You want your cat back. You want him gone, away, to see your mother again and bake with her. Eat fresh pastries while listening to old songs on the radio and talk about silly things or whatever she liked to ponder over before you were swept off your feet like in those old fairy tales. You want your phone and accounts unlocked so you could message friends. You miss your grandmother with her apron, the way she laughed at corny jokes and told stories about her youth. You want many things that Chrollo would never agree on - you're well aware of that, that's why you keep them safely tucked away and rotting.

You also want him to stop pressing against your back, and this is far easier to achieve. Slowly you untuck yourself from between his body and the counter, then turn around. He watches your face calmly like always, with this unblinking gaze full of strange fixation; there are small lines in the corners of his eyes, barely noticeable ones. You count them - six in total, three for each eye.

Then you blink.

"I don't think there is anything."

"Really," Chrollo hums, playing with the hem of your shirt, and you wonder if he knows something you're not aware of him knowing. "You've spoken less than ten sentences in two days, yet there's nothing bothering you. I must say I don't believe that."

So this is how it's going to start. This is how the conversation begins, and it'll flow from here until Chrollo finds what he's searching for.

"I've been paying close attention."

You don't doubt it.

"And what did you notice?"

"Nothing pleasant," his finger finds a loose thread and wraps it around. The pull is light, as if testing whether it'll prompt you to move closer into his space. "Quite concerning things actually."

You don't budge an inch.

"You do this sometimes," he continues. "When I ask a question and it takes you longer to respond. When we watch a movie, and I'm sure you stopped following at least twenty minutes ago. Or when you go over the same page until it's clear that I'm looking."

Chrollo's collarbone is a crisp line with a faint old scar; your attention skims over it to the sharp edges of his jaw. No smile today.

"And I wondered where you have been going."

He tugs a bit harder and the thread snaps.

It should've stunned you how fast everything crumbled - the imaginary wooden floors, Miss Whiskerton on your lap and the lizard, the wide windows - but no, it's surprisingly anti-climactic. Nothing breaks dramatically, just splits the middle, leaving you with cold kitchen tiles underneath your bare feet. You thought about this scenario - Chrollo cornering you, many times, and the words you would choose when he did, yet they fail to manifest and nothing fills the silence except a mute sensation of acknowledgement which settles over your head and shoulders. Your knees don't buckle. Your breath doesn't hitch, there is no shivering, and perhaps that's the most terrifying reaction of all.

So what, you think. And it's such a simple thought, plain and ordinary, so what.

Chrollo has his ways, but you have yours; they are slow and small, and squeeze you very tight. You can't comprehend this new expression on his face, haven't seen it before.

"My dear," he says in a quiet voice, so unlike his usual smooth, charming tone. "Broken thoughts and forlorn dreams can't fix what you want them to."

He taps your forehead, as if to engrave those words into the soft tissue of your brain. They slip away though, like running water.

"Wherever you choose to wander, there's not a single spot where I'm not right behind. Delusions don't suit you and it's simply sad to watch."

The kiss comes without warning; Chrollo doesn't bother to say anything else, just cups your face. It's warm and deep, a full-mouthed kiss that tastes faintly of tea you two drank during breakfast.

It's rot, you realize with a ten minute delay; and this slack mouth he's caressing isn't yours. There's a plant behind his shoulder, some small cactus with white needles sitting on a windowsill. The sunlight creates patterns on the glass, soft yellow circles and lines. They shift every passing second.

He's going to do this now, isn't he. Kiss you when you slip too deep as a way to break the pattern and remind that this is where you're supposed to be - with him. In the kitchen wearing a thin shirt above the knee, with cracks that spread across your insides, seeking for every small space they can fill. You'll grow older by his side, he'll bring you material pleasures to compensate for the lack of mental ones - books, clothes, jewelry, a pet if you decide to ask (you won't). Chrollo is going to kiss you often until age creeps onto your faces, and you'll watch each other turn old together.

The plant on the windowsill looks so dry.

"Dear."

He pulls back a few inches. You meet his eyes.

"Mm?"

You will let the rot dig under your nails and wait for it to eat away until his hands eventually become empty; rot is something to grab onto. It's slow to set, but spreads fast once does and never runs out of supply.

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— his colours —

Warnings: angst, fluff, sad!bucky, liquor consumption

Summary: Bucky might be too late to tell you how he feels.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: ~5.2k

A/N: An idea that popped up in my head and finally broke through the struggle I've been having while writing. Enjoy and feast upon this! Also add yourself to the taglist(s) >here<

Steve narrowed his eyes at the brooding figure in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what exactly was itching in his brain. 

Bucky had always been a charmer, and a damn good one at that. From when he first met Steve’s mother, Sarah, sporting a few bruises and a busted lip, to when he was getting drafted in the war. 

Sarah was a kind woman, but that didn’t mean she trusted easily. With Steve’s father and a few relatives that turned away in their time of need, Sarah fell apart with her own friends and family. Her trust dwindled and started to dim until Steve showed up with Bucky in tow after school. She was weary at first, perhaps thinking that Bucky was no good news, but as the days progressed along with their friendship, she started viewing him as a son. He was around every few days for dinner, bringing a few things that he passed along as extra food the maid had conveniently accidentally brought with her. 

It didn’t take too long for Sarah to put two and two together, but she never said anything to him. Never scolded him for bringing food to their dinner. She knew he did it out of love, not pity or sympathy. He loved Steve as a brother and looked up at Sarah with a boyish grin that made it impossible for her to be mad. 

Steve watched Bucky now, remembering the days when Bucky would simply grab any shirt and pants to wear, grinning as he told Steve about this new dame that had moved into town. He was confident and struck with features that had any woman falling into his arms with just one lopsided smile. A few more grins and some dances later, the woman would offer to leave. Sometimes Bucky would agree with dimples, other times he would politely refuse and say he wanted to do things right. 

Bucky lacked that confidence now, Steve realised, eyebrows rising slightly on his face. It wasn’t evident at first glance. Bucky was steady and graceful, not once faltering in his movements as he knotted his tie. Nor as he shrugged on his blazer. It was when his eyes would flicker over the mirror in front of him. It was obvious when his hand brushed over a spot on his shoulder a few times and fixed his tie to sit straight. Even more so when he fixed the collar of his shirt and then his blazer, only to find his hair sitting slightly off and fixing that instead. 

“You’re nervous,” Steve breathed out, breaking the comfortable silence that they had been in for a few minutes. Bucky paused his actions for a second before seemingly deciding to ignore his comment. Steve watched him pull his shirt sleeves under his blazer, jaw ticking when he caught Steve’s eyes through the mirror. 

“I’m not,” he said simply, as if that ended the conversation. Steve was curious though. Never in his life had he seen Bucky nervous for a social gathering, much less a party that Tony was throwing. After the whole debacle in DC, Bucky had recovered well and fast, thanks to T’Challa’s favour and Shuri’s brains. His memories were hazy at times and he had nightmares—sometimes he had to be restrained by Steve—but that was four years ago. 

Over the past two years, Bucky was able to sleep throughout the night at least four nights in a week. Those night terrors had decreased to about five in the past year or so and his memories had been recovered. He remembered the diner that had been down the block from Steve’s house, the smell of his mother’s cinnamon buns, and the wretched taste of mud and blood in his mouth during the war. His social etiquette returned and Tony started inviting him to parties that Bucky had no problem attending. He was more than happy to indulge women and men in his charms once again. 

“Yes, you are,” Steve deadpanned, sitting up straighter when Bucky shook his head and sighed. His hands came down from his tie that he was adjusting again. He looked at Steve through the mirror before turning around to face him and dropped the hand that had come up to check his hair. 

“What makes you think that?” Bucky asked instead. Steve knew he was deflecting the question, but gave in and nodded at his form. 

“That.” Steve nodded at him again. Bucky frowned and looked down at his clothes, arms going up at his sides. Just as Bucky was about to speak again, Steve cut in. “You’ve been looking at yourself over and over again.” Steve watched Bucky carefully before realization dawned on him. 

“You’re nervous ‘cause she’s going to be there,” he voiced out in a breathless manner. Steve hadn’t even thought of that and he inwardly cursed at himself for not seeing it sooner. Of course, the reason Bucky was nervous was because of the one person who seemed to be able to throw Bucky off his charms. 

Bucky opened his mouth to retaliate, but stopped short when Steve raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. He closed his mouth and averted his eyes as if his eyes would give away the feeling that was smothering him slowly. He licked his lips, turning his attention to a lint that had stuck onto his pants. His hands were sweaty, but he kept them steady as he picked at the lint and smoothed out the wrinkle at his chest. His nerves were acting up today, for this party, simply because you were coming back from Greece. 

“She hasn’t been here in two years,” Bucky finally said, sighing as he brought his eyes back up to meet Steve’s gentle gaze. His shoulders fell with an exhale, trying to calm his thudding heart and roaring ears. “She hasn’t seen me since—since I was still recovering.” When Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, Bucky knew he didn’t understand what he meant. 

“But you guys kept in contact the entire time,” Steve mumbled, grabbing his shoes to put them on and keeping his head down. It gave Bucky a chance to turn around without the annoying glare Steve would send his way for trying to cut the conversation off. 

Bucky did keep in contact with you when he could. He had texted you everyday for the first three months and sent daily reminders to eat because he knew you would forget while working. The texts had abruptly stopped from his end when he was called away on a SHIELD stealth mission. That meant he had called you the second he was able to, throwing off his shoes and tossing his duffel bag away, he called you. You didn’t pick up. He called again and again, but then registered that you were probably asleep. 

He went through your texts, ranging from the top ones of concern to the bottom ones of realization to the last few that varied from your daily tasks. His heart had never felt heavier. The suffocating feeling lingered on his shoulders as he forced himself to lay down. He just couldn’t let go of his phone or turn his head off. He kept his phone on his chest, hair dampening the pillow as he laid awake staring at the ceiling. He kept wishing you called back, but you didn’t. He texted you in the morning with heavy eyes, drooping shut every now and then. 

You responded and he started texting like usual, only this time it was rare for you to reply in the same day. His social battery lowered and he usually found himself in the corner with a drink or leaving early with a quick excuse. He never asked why the texts had been reduced. He was too scared of getting an answer his heart couldn’t handle. His heart already ached with each passing day you two spent apart, not knowing how you were doing. He wouldn’t be able to text you if you told him that you had met someone and were busy with them. 

He was a coward. A coward for not telling how he felt when you left. 

You were the only one that didn’t tip-toe around him and treat him like he was made of porcelain. You were gentle, but that didn’t stop you from telling him exactly what you thought. You respected his boundaries that had been set quietly. You didn’t touch him before telling him and asking if it was okay, but you also told him that he should get used to people not asking before touching as well. You kept your distance from his left side if you two walked together, knowing very well he still wasn’t over the murder and torture it had executed.

It was easy to fall for you. You made it so easy for him to stumble, trip, and fall in. 

“Buck?” Steve’s voice was tinged with concern and worry, a small crack seeping through the vowel. Bucky’s eyes flickered up, hands unconsciously sliding down his front to smoothen out his shirt again. 

Bucky swallowed. “Yeah, we did.” His throat burned with the white lie. You two had stopped texting each other three weeks ago with a simple ‘goodnight’ from the both of you. 

Steve stood up, his light blue blazer and pants with the white shirt made the green flecks in his eyes pop and the blue seem darker. Steve looked over at him once, eyebrows furrowing in deep thought as his eyes swiped over his outfit. From the black loafers to the midnight blue pants to the matching blazer and black shirt to the silver tie he had worn. In a few seconds, Bucky watched Steve’s confused face morph into one of amusement. 

“You wore her colours,” he declared with an annoyingly smug grin. He fixed his cuffs as he stared at Bucky who cleared his throat at the accusation. 

Bucky felt his cheeks warm with the obvious choice. It was unintentional at first, picking out the silver tie and blue blazer, but Bucky had realized soon enough that they were your signature colours. He was looking for your colours when he shopped. He had stopped and picked out a few blazers in different styles and some with patterns, but they had all been a dark blue colour. His ties at the last few events had some incoherent swirls of silver. His hair had been swept to the side since you had complimented it styles like that. 

Bucky ignored Steve’s expression and gruffed out, “We should go.” Steve somehow agreed and started for the door, but stopped short with his hand on the knob. 

“You should tell her how you feel tonight,” Steve said gently before twisting the knob and stepping into the hallway. Bucky could hear the loud metal music blasting through the Compound then, his door wide open as Steve made his way down the hall towards what Tony liked to call the party room. Bucky swallowed thickly, the burning feeling back in his throat, and followed Steve down the hall. 

Steve stopped in front of the doors with a wicked grin. “Thor brought his Asgardian liquor,” he told him, emitting an easy grin from Bucky. That was a good thing, Bucky thought. If he had to face you tonight, talk to you maybe, he wouldn’t be able to do it sober. 

Steve pushed open the doors and spread out his arms to announce his arrival. Bucky rolled his eyes and pushed past him, straight to the bar where Natasha was standing with Clint while Thor made drinks. With the heavy music now over, a pop song that he had heard once or twice before playing, he could hear the clinks of glasses and chatters humming in the air. The dance floor was bustling with SHIELD agents that had been invited as per Tony’s request. He didn’t know all of them, but he could recognise a few as he walked by. 

“Ah, Bucky!” Clint greeted, patting him on the back and drawing him nearer. His hand was wrapped around a bottle of vodka that Bucky was sure was Natasha’s favourite. It was the strongest stuff in the bar—other than the Asgardian liquor, of course. “Settle a debate for us, will ya?” Bucky inwardly grimaced at the smell of vodka on his breath and slightly pulled back. 

“What’s it?” Bucky asked, looking between the three of them with a grin. He leaned against the bar island just as Thor came over with Asgardian liquor. He dropped a small pail of ice near him and nodded at it. Bucky nodded back his thanks. 

“How long that guy’ll last here,” Clint said with a loopy grin. He took a swing out of the bottle, looking over at Natasha with a wag of his eyebrows. “I say two weeks before he runs.” Bucky took a sip of his drink, eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting to Natasha for answers. Clint was clearly teetering on the brink of tipsy and drunk, slurring his words together. Natasha was perched on the stool with a sober expression on her face while her eyes were fixed on Bucky. 

“Wait,” Bucky breathed out with a light chuckle, “who are we talkin’ about?” He pushed off the island and looked at Natasha expectantly. The pop music had turned into slow, smooth jazz-type of music that was almost sensual. Natasha leaned forward, towards Bucky as if she was going to share a secret. To his surprise and confusion, Natasha’s eyes softened with something close to pity. 

“Y/N’s boyfriend, Sohan,” she whispered, her emerald eyes flickering towards the dance floor. 

Bucky’s eyes followed her eyesight, painfully slowly, to the dance floor where you danced with Sohan. He was a dark-haired and dark-eyed man with lightly tanned skin. The blood rushed to his ears, heart thudding violently in his ears as he watched Sohan lean in towards you. He looked away before your lips made contact. He felt as if someone had dumped that pail of ice down his back. A shiver licked up his spine and he downed his drink, eyes and throat burning with the harsh liquor. 

“So, what d’you think, Buckaroo?” Clint asked and leaned forward to lay on the island, oblivious to the feelings coursing through Bucky. 

Bucky slammed his glass down loudly enough to grab Thor’s attention. “Get me the whole bottle, please,” he gritted out angrily. Thor looked uncomfortable with the glance Natasha sent him, but he gave over one of the few bottles he had brought with the scowl setting onto Bucky’s face.

 Bucky swiped the bottle off the table and popped open the cork. He put it to his mouth and looked over his shoulder to see you speaking into Sohan’s ear. His eyes quickly drank you in. The black dress you wore had a corset that clung to your torso and accentuated your curves. The tulle flared out slightly and the fabric underneath it was decorated with delicate gold accents. 

They were his colours. 

He spun around and chugged faster, ignoring the look Thor was giving Natasha. 

“Two hours,” Bucky muttered out and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His throat felt like it was on fire. Somewhere, in the more logical side of his brain, he knew he shouldn’t drink so fast. Thor’s eyebrows pinched in concern when he saw the half empty bottle. 

“Bucky, I think that—” Thor cut himself off at the withering glare Bucky sent his way. Before Bucky had a chance to feel guilty about his behaviour, Thor turned away with a small smile to attend to another attendee. 

Bucky bitterly reminded himself that he had no reason to be angry at anyone, but himself. The slow songs changed into heavy rock again, Tony’s enthusiastic voice echoing amongst the drums and guitars. He brought up his hand to run it through his hair, shaking with emotions he couldn’t place. It wasn’t pure anger or jealousy. Heartbreak perhaps. He took another large gulp and felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder. 

He looked over, a scowl on his face and intentions to tell the person to fuck off, but the words died on his lips when he saw your face. 

Your lips were painted a deep red and stretched out into a gentle smile. Your hair tumbled down in soft curls that made him want to hide his face in it. A smither of glitter on your nose and peaks of your cheekbones highlight your face, contrasting it from the smokey eyeshadow and black eyeliner coating your eyes. He hadn’t noticed the sheer fabric that covered your stomach, showing off skin when the light hit it just right.The urge to spin you around, kiss your cheeks, lips, neck, was strong. He held back. 

He could tell you put effort into your makeup so he grinned through his heartbreak and said, “Don’t you look like something outta a fairytale?” He wasn’t sure if you would fall into the category of pretty princesses or of attractive villains. His thoughts were muddled, even more so with the liquor starting to take effect. He would regret drinking so much in the morning. If he made it through the night, at least. 

“Thank you, Buck,” you said with a grin. He couldn’t just call it a grin though, not when it set every fiber of his body on fire. His head spun when you let your eyes glide over his body through hooded lids. “You look handsome, too.” 

Your fingers delicately pressed into his shoulder before sliding towards his neck to adjust his collar and then his ties. He could feel your hand burn through his shirt, branding his skin with your print, resting it just over his heart. He could have sworn he felt an electric shock course through his veins when you patted his chest. When you grinned, the teasing one that you sent him during boring meetings, he felt his shoulders relax from their tense state. He grinned back automatically, forgetting about his breaking heart and the man you were here with when you were looking at him just like you looked at him before. 

“How are you?” You asked, pulling away and waving to Thor. You acted as if nothing was wrong. As if he was the only one who felt the heat of tension and urges of desire, laced with sweetness. He still tasted the bitter remnants of the Asgardian liquor on his tongue, hoping you wouldn’t be able to smell it. 

“Good,” he replied simply. There was no need to tell you how much he had changed. You didn’t need to know that his sleep was nonexistent when you didn’t text back. His attitude, his recovery, his emotions that had grown, those were all hidden on the tip of his lying tongue. He was not okay, but you didn’t need to know that. 

“I’m glad, Bucky.” Your hand landed on his forearm to squeeze it lightly. Thor placed two drinks in front of you with a wink, glasses clinking on the marble as he slid them towards you. You smiled at him, a little dimmer than the one you sent Bucky right after. “Wanna meet Sohan? He’s really sweet.” 

He wanted to say no. “Sure, darlin’.” There was no way he could say no to you when you looked so endearingly adorable. Lips pulling wider a bit and eyes lighting up with relief, you looked around the crowd. You gestured to Sohan to come over when you saw him. He excused himself from Tony and sauntered over to you with a grin Bucky knew meant he was cocky. 

Bucky’s gut dropped. 

“Hey, princess,” Sohan started and patted your lower back in greeting. He nodded his head at Bucky with a slightly smaller smile, one that held a linger of smirk. “You must be the famous Bucky Barnes.” He extended a hand towards him. 

Bucky refrained from cringing and gripped his hand. It was a little tighter than he usually would have held someone’s hand, but he was sure it wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t notice that it was his metal hand until Sohan’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck!” Sohan whipped his hand back with a howl, holding it to his chest. You were by his side immediately, hands on his bicep and face, gently prying his hand away from his chest to inspect it. No marks or bruises appeared, no broken bones were heard cracked. Yet your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, seeking out any hurting places with the tips of your finger pressing in. 

Bucky watched with a stoic face, knowing that he hadn’t pressed in too hard. It was for show. He could see the way Sohan’s eyes quickly darted over you in admiration, brown eyes twinkling. He could feel Natasha’s eyes on him and, out of the corner of his eye, saw her exchange a glance with Thor. Steve had appeared sometime before for a drink, now standing beside Bucky with his chest puffed out and ready to defend, no doubt. Once you were done checking his hand, you pulled away with a small smile on your lips, looking at Bucky. 

“He’s all good,” you said simply, grabbing your drink and taking a sip. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat, tongue darting out to lick his dry lips. His hand gripped the neck of his bottle a little tighter when Sohan opened his mouth. 

“Could be more careful with that death trap,” he muttered bitterly, sending a glance over Bucky’s shoulder and looking at Steve once. Bucky scowled at Sohan. Before Steve or Natasha could say anything to defend Bucky, you turned to Sohan with a glare. 

“Say anything to him and you’re done interning for me,” you bit out through gritted teeth. Bucky’s eyes flickered to you in surprise. 

Interning. He was a fucking intern. Not your goddamn boyfriend. 

He slammed his bottle once on the counter and turned to Natasha with a newly found emotion of betrayal and anger, ignoring the other four pairs of eyes on him. Those glances she gave Thor when he heard her tell Bucky that Sohan was your boyfriend suddenly made sense. It clicked in his head that it was her plan. Natasha fucking Romanoff wanted him to feel his heart break. He didn’t know why just yet, but he was going to find out sooner or later. Whether it be a calm conversation on comfortable sofas or a quick spar on the mat to beat it out of her—she never took the easy way out anyway. 

Your hand wrapped around his hand on the bottle, gently pulling his fingers off of its neck and intertwining your hands together. Your other hand came to cup his chin, tenderly pressing your palm into his cheek and forcing him to face you. When he didn’t budge, glowering at Natasha with a murderous fire in his eyes, he felt your body heat envelop him in its embrace. Your lips brushed over his earlobe, a shudder running through his body at the contact and a shaky exhale making its escape from his lips. 

“Let’s go to our spot, yeah?” You whispered into his ear. Your breath was hot and cool at the same time. He absentmindedly nodded and let your hand guide him out of his chair and out of the room, leaving behind a gaping Sohan. He would beat the reasons out of Natasha tomorrow or the day after, depending on what happens with you. 

You reached the doors to the balcony and pushed them open to be hit with the cool night air, the smell of summer in the air. You sighed lovingly and dragged him along to the edge of it, looking over the trees and the landscape of the city in the distance. The crescent moon and stars twinkled overhead, disappearing the closer they got to the city lighting. He watched you close your eyes and breath in the scent of leaves and plants before looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. 

He shook his head and muttered out, “Nothing.” Your face pinched in pain at his response. You let go of his hand and gripped the railing, turning your face away from him. He felt a stab under his rib. “Y/N?” He placed his hand—his metal hand—over yours, inflicting a mild squeeze in hopes of providing some solace. He wasn’t ready for you to turn back to him with unshed tears in your eyes. Another stab-like feeling ensued in his chest.

“Who is she?” You raised a hand to wipe your tears away, carefully so you didn’t smudge eyeliner and mascara, before they fell. You averted your eyes once again, looking down below at the parking lot. His blazer crinkled and his loafers skid as he turned to lean his side on the railing. He tilted his head down, placing his warm hand under your chin and tipped your head back slightly so that he could meet your gaze. 

Eyebrows furrowing, he asked, “What?” He had had half a bottle of Asgardian liquor in under five minutes and he was starting to feel it start to hit him, but he was sure it hadn’t muddled his mind that much. Not to the point where he forgot someone. 

“The woman you’re in love with,” you mumbled out slowly. Bucky blinked once and then again, eyebrows now furrowing further in together. His lips curled down in a frown, hands coming down and seizing yours. You shifted to mimic his position, letting him lace your fingers together. 

“Come again?” His voice was low and rough, more puzzle pieces joining together the more he racked his gears. He stepped closer to you, the skirt of your dress brushing his pants. His hands itched to touch your waist, your hips, and feel your skin through the opaque fabric covering you. He wanted to pull you close, wrap his arms around you, kiss your neck, but he could control those urges right now. 

“Natasha said you were in love with someone,” you mumbled, eyes dropping to his tie. Of course, Natasha was involved somehow. “Steve said you had been for a while when I asked him.” Bucky wanted to groan in frustration. Steve probably told you that because he had been in love with you for years now. A long while. Bucky had loved you for a long time, but never had he had the courage to say it out loud. 

You slid your hands out of his grasp and fixed his tie. He gave in to one of his urges and placed his hands on your hips, being respectful of where his hands were placed. He didn’t want to read this wrong. Your tears and the questions you asked, even the way you ghosted him three weeks ago, made sense. His senses were working well enough for him to know what you were feeling. He felt his lips tug into a smirk, a little mischief seeking through his demeanor and into the sober moment you two were having. 

“I do love her,” he whispered and gripped your hips a bit tighter each time he spoke. “I’ve loved her for a while. A long time. Ever since I met her. She’s so incredible and kind and gentle, but she doesn’t take any shit from me.” 

He thought back to the few times you broke the news of his past, affirming that those things weren't and were never going to be his fault. He took a step closer to you, loafers disappearing into your tulle skirt. Your heels bumped his shoes, breath hitching at the closing proximity. One of his hands slipped behind to your lower back, index finger drawing slow and deliberate swirls on you. Your hands shook as you raised them to his face, thumb caressing his cheekbones and fingers lightly tracing his jaw. 

“She’ll tell me it exactly how it is and she knows exactly what I need. She’s funny and her laugh makes me want to keep making her laugh.”

His eyes darted down to your lips, remembering the giggles that had left your lips for every sarcastic comment he had passed during any boring meetings. How he had mourned the loss of your laughter when you had left for Greece. His tongue licked his lips as he watched your lips curl upwards. He raised his eyes to meet your teary gaze. This time he knew it was a good thing. His heart soared into his throat. 

“She loves my friends like her family, she saves people with her talents, and she cares for me.” His hands cupped your face and he leaned down closer to you. “Her name is Y/N and I love her with every breath I take.” 

“You do?” You choked out, an airy chuckle escaping your lips. 

Bucky nodded and whispered, “Yeah, I love you, Y/N. I love you, darlin’, so much.” His lips landed on your forehead, mumbling promises and some more declarations of love against your skin. 

You pulled away from him, eyes twinkling with tears and happiness. “I love you, too, Bucky.” Bucky’s shoulders fell with his next deep exhale, thumbs swiping over your cheeks and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He saw your eyes flicker down to his lips twice and he absentmindedly ran his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“You’re drunk,” you managed to whisper against the pad of his thumb. He pulled back a little, letting go of your face and placing his hands on your hips. He knew you weren’t rejecting him—just conscious of the fact that he had had a bottle in his hand, halfway empty. He spun you two around a bit to have your back against the railing. 

“Doesn’t matter. ‘A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts’,” he mumbled, shrugging. He let go of your hips. He was giving you a way out of this if you wanted it, taking half a step back. You took a second to think about it. 

He was about to tell you that it was okay if you wanted to go back in and talk about this tomorrow—after he beat Natasha in a spar—when you moved. Your hands brought his head down and your lips connected with his. He groaned at the contact, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close and leave no inch of space between your bodies. He heard the little noises you let out, moaning and whimpering into the kiss. Those little sounds of his made his head spin and his body heat with desire. He picked you up, arms wrapped just under your ass. Tilting back and stepping backwards, his back hit the wall near the door. 

Only then did you two pull away, chests heaving and breaths mingling together. 

“You wore my colours,” you breathed out. 

“You wore mine,” he said huskily, two fingers tracing the ribbons that tied your corset together.

———

Taglist: @pinkposttragedy @gen-genevieve

[moon-like-u]

the butterfly effect

pairing: jeon wonwoo/reader

genre: sci-fi i think, time travel au! kinda angst

word count: 1,794

warnings: may be confusing because it jumps from previous and present timelines

synopsis: wonwoo can time travel and will do everything just to make you happy

a/n: hello omg it has been two years since my last post! i accidentally stumbled on my draft for this au and decided to finish it. i didn't proofread this anymore so hopefully it still makes sense by the end and that it's not too rushed ^___^ also i hope the narrative is not confusing with all the reminisces lol this felt long but apparently both junhui and joshua aus are still longer ahaha

You had warned him. 

You already warned him that this would happen, but he was too stubborn to follow. Wonwoo feels the early afternoon air against his face as he walks the streets of the city with one destination in mind: the coffee shop, Hanabira. 

He knows these streets all too well; the few apartment buildings among different restaurants and small businesses that seemingly fall together, the trees and light posts lining up the streets, the idle chatter of people, a string familiar of faces, even the cracks in the gravel full of perennial plants – all of these fell into place fitting like a puzzle, just like you and him, he thought.

It was also in these streets that he discovered his ability to time travel many years ago. Ever since then, he felt as if a huge responsibility rested upon his shoulders and at the same time, felt like nothing mattered, everything and anything was temporary – well, until he met you. You who drink coffee as if it were water, you who choose to walk with him on this very same street every time he asks you to, you who remember every single detail of your (and his) favorite books, plays, and songs and still manage to become forgetful. You who became the permanent fixture in his life among those that faded away. 

He thinks back to when he asked what would you do if you had the ability to time travel. You had said that it would be a big responsibility to have, after all, you can change a lot of things that can alter human history. In terms of your personal life, you told Wonwoo that you would leave it exactly as it is. 

The afternoon light was streaming through the blinds of his room, creatively lighting up the room as the both of you lounge on his bed. Wonwoo grabbed your hand as you sat up on your elbows.

“I’d rather not change anything in the past. Everything felt circumstantial, you know?” you pondered. “The day I met you, I wouldn’t change a thing. I love you and I want to meet you the very second we did.”

The bell on the door of Hanabira jingles as he walks in, the smell of coffee and vanilla greeting him. He remembers the day you met as if it were just yesterday. He smiles lightly as he recalls it. 

During the middle of the day, Hanabira was booming with customers in line to get their cup of coffee and baked pastries. It was not a surprise that there was a long line that almost reached the entrance door. However, the peak hour was not the only reason why the line is long— you were there, holding up the line because you were short 10 won. 

Wonwoo sees the panic in your eyes as you dig up your wallet, bag, and pockets to find nothing but a few paper receipts. He can’t help but notice how you already had a large coffee stain on your torso, coffee you probably spilled hours before. “Here,” he said as he gave the cashier 10 won, realizing he must put you out of your misery. 

“Thank you,” you breathed out. “I’m not usually unprepared like this, if you don’t mind to keep in contact so I can pay you back.”

Wonwoo was surprised to see you look like you’re about to cry, wearing a coffee-stained long-sleeved shirt, and yet, you had this determined look on your face as if he just paid 1,000 won instead of 10. 

“Sure,” he replies, speechless. 

The rest was history. Wonwoo was glad he had 10 won to spare that day, for he felt like he was the luckiest man to have met you. He still does. Wonwoo would do everything just to see you happy. Wonwoo walked into Hanabira, taking in the place. It gives him a little comfort seeing how everything is still the same—it still looks like the same favorite place you ever so loved.

He looked over to the corner where the both of you sat and when you had poured your heart out to him. He remembered how you opened up to him that day in this very coffee shop, thinking that a heart-wrenching conversation with a random (cute) stranger that you would probably never meet again would help ease the pain.  Wonwoo recalled how you explained to him that the reason you were tense and bought coffee with not enough money was that you missed an interview for a screenwriter position, your dream job. He found it ridiculous that you would not even change this part of your past if given the ability to time travel.

“But that interview was your dream, wouldn’t you at least try to change the past and attend the interview like you always wanted?” Wonwoo asks.

“Well, yeah. It is my dream. But still, I know I can do my best even without that interview. Even if I have to do other positions first before being promoted to a screenwriter. I know I’ll get there,” you said wistfully. “Besides, if I made it to that interview, I wouldn’t have met you, you know. And I couldn’t have that!” you said teasingly.

Wonwoo had laughed along with you then, but it got him thinking. It has been your dream since you were a kid. He remembers how you passionately defended the beauty of being a screenwriter when he expressed that being a director sounded more appealing, just to tease you. 

“Screenwriters bring the magic directors can show. One is not above the other—both are staples to create something so beautiful in harmony through plays, movies and the like!” you attested.

It took you a while to realize that he was just messing with you, a feat that was rewarded with a slap in the arm. But it was then that he knew how much this meant to you. And Wonwoo, well, he wanted to give everything to you—even the world, if he can.

If there was one thing that Wonwoo learned and proved with his time travel abilities, it was the chaos theory, specifically the butterfly effect. It amused him how little changes really do cause big changes in a course of events, which is why he had to be careful and think about the repercussions of changing anything as little as moving the position of a park bench. It was how he just changed the batteries of a certain bus driver’s alarm clock that caused you to ride a bus that did not have reckless driving skills, which meant that you did not spill your coffee all over yourself and your resume. Which means that you had successfully entered the interview of your dream job, prepared, polished, and caffeinated. 

“Sir? Excuse me, sir? I said that would be 4,400 won,” the cashier calls out. 

Wonwoo snapped out of his reverie and handed the cashier his bills, “Sorry, I spaced out. Thank you.”

It has been three years in the timeline where you made it to the interview. You made it, Y/N, Wonwoo thinks as he sees your name is becoming known in the film industry. He wanted to celebrate with you, but in this timeline, he would just be another stranger to you. He knew this would happen, but he still went on and change the past despite you refuting the idea before.

“What if we still meet afterwards, in another day? Would you change the past this time?” he asks you.

You hummed, “It’s a risk, I still wouldn’t do it if I don’t have the reassurance that we’ll meet again.”

“I’m sure we’ll meet again in this scenario.”

“How sure are you? I think it was because of our decisions that day that we met, so, I still wouldn’t change a thing even though it would get me to that interview,” you said while tracing circles on his arm.

“No, I think it’s because of fate that we met,” he replied.

You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes, “I didn’t take you for a sappy romantic.”

He chuckled, you felt the reverberations on his chest, “No, I just think we’re fated together, Y/N. I think that even if you were a popular, in-demand screenwriter, we’d still find our way to each other.”

“So in this scenario I'm popular and in-demand you say? What if I turn into a snob and refuse to meet you with all that fueling my ego?” you laughed.

“All the more why I should be there to pull you back down!” Wonwoo responded, suddenly attempting to tickle you. You laughed at the unexpected attack and responded with the same action. Both of you were lost in a series of laughs and tangled limbs.

Wonwoo recalled the memory with a bittersweet feeling. Of course, he considered looking for you and introducing himself, but he couldn’t think of a way that would not make him look like a madman. Hi, I’m Wonwoo. You were the love of my life in another timeline? He had not even told you of his time travel abilities before. He went to all the previous places you used to live in, but you never resided there in the present timeline. You had warned him that this would be a big change, that it would come with the risks of not meeting each other—and yet, he went ahead and did it. Still, he does not regret he did it. He just wishes he could be there to see you happy to have achieved your lifelong dream.

Back in the coffee shop, Wonwoo decided to take a walk outside with a sigh. We’ll meet again, I’m sure of it, he thinks. As soon as he went out Hanabira, he collided with someone and spilled the remainder of his now cold coffee onto the floor. Wonwoo noticed the dog first, and looked at the person. It was you.

“I am so sorry! My dog suddenly dragged me and ran all the way here, I swear he doesn’t usually get like this!” you said apologetically. 

“It’s okay, he was probably just excited,” Wonwoo chuckled, as he kneeled down and petted the dog. Well, aren’t you a good boy, he thinks as he continues to pet the dog.

“Yeah, he loves walking in this part of the city!” you said, relieved. “I’m sorry I spilled your coffee though, how can I make it up to you?”

Wonwoo looks up at you with a smile, “What about a coffee for a coffee?” I told you it’s fate Y/N, we are just destined together in every timeline, he thinks. He stood up, reached out his hand, and said “Wonwoo, by the way.”

You smiled, “Y/N.”

[alexanderwales]

Pitchposting: Generation Ship

(Pitchposting is a way of giving away ideas that threaten to grow in my mind until they become draft documents. They are free to a good home, though there's no guarantee that I won't try to write them at some point.)

Alright, hear me out: it's a generation ship, one expected to reach its destination with an entirely new generation of people who never knew the homeland, except instead of being a scifi concept, we're doing it as mundane as possible.

I think this is one of those ideas that only appeals to me because I immediately start thinking about the logistics of it all, and there's something in the mundane, gritty realism that really appeals to me. Mostly I'm worldbuilding and problem solving, trying to get at what it would actually be like for people to have been at sea their entire lives, to have a ship that either needs to endure the waves or be rebuilt as it goes.

I was going to say that this needs to be fantasy, but I guess technically it can be an Alderson Disk or something. An Alderson Disk has a habitable circumference of approximately a billion kilometers, a sailing ship can go maybe eighty miles a day, that's a ballpark of 12.5 million days to circumnavigate the disk, which is 34,000 years. That's a hell of a lot of generations, twice as long as we've had agriculture. (But you could also just have it be a fantasy world that's larger than our own, with a generation ship that was only trying to flee to greener pastures that are a hundred years away.)

The purest version of this story is a world that's just water, to match the void of space. The ship sails, repairs are made from flotsam and jetsam and driftwood from unspecified places, rainwater is caught and put into barrels, pitch is used for patching, fish and kelp are hauled up from the ocean, birds are captured from the sky, and the ship must necessarily endure storms and swells.

I've always felt there was something compelling about constrained living situations, places where everyone knows everyone and you have to make it work because there's absolutely no way out — where you're on a knife's edge because there's only so much preparation you can do. A generation ship needs to think about absolutely all of its needs and how it will deal with the deterioration of all things over time, along with problems that might only crop up once every hundred years, or problems that won't become apparent until long after the ship has left the dock.

Let's say you have a sailing ship the size of one of the largest sailing vessels of the 19th century, a thousand people all told. The families are carefully braided to prevent accidental incest, everyone has their position in life, every master has at least one apprentice but probably more so gout or cancer don't eliminate the last person who knew how to make more pitch.

This is clearly an Idea story, one that starts with a ridiculous premise and then explores it, but one of my favorite things about idea stories is finding the characters and the conflicts within them. For a generation ship, the biggest, most obvious conflict is the conflict between generations: the old people who once knew dry land, the middle generation who will likely die before the destination is reached, and the children who will be the beneficiaries of all this travel.

We have a woman who was born to the sea, who loves the sea, who loves the travel and takes great joy in knowing that she's probably not going to see the end of it until she's ancient. We have the grizzled sailor who's nearly risen to the rank of captain and sees the whole mission as utter foolishness. A boy of thirteen who is obsessed with writing stories about the land they've set off toward and keeps his telescope on the horizon, hoping that the predictions were off, that they're somehow two decades early. A girl of sixteen who doesn't feel suited to the marriage that's planned for her, who is secretly in love with her best friend. A scientist who has been quietly advancing the state of knowledge with every new fish brought up from the deeps.

And then there's the plot, which there are so, so many options for. I would start the novel with simple sailing, a few chapters of the daily routine, the personalities, their petty fights with each other, and the stress of being in the middle of unfathomably deep waters whose depths are only glimpsed when the nets bring up something new. Then ... an island, another ship, sea creatures that have a glimmer of intelligence, a storm that makes the ship limp, spoilage that threatens starvation unless drastic action is taken, a political squabble that might bring all the plans crashing down.

Maybe it's a book about being trapped by the past, or about hanging on by what feels like a delicate thread, or about how systems are fragile and careful thinking and brave leadership are the only things that will get us through.

Mostly I think I want to be a geek about a ship that needs to survive in the ocean for a hundred years, and I do not have the time to write this novel, not when there are so many other novels to write.

[sheep-from-rad]

Spicy Imagines (ft. Alhaitham and Kaveh) Genshin x Reader 

Note: I had these ideas as separate fanfics but it was too short so I just made them into one. I would have published it earlier this week but I have fallen down the Alhaitham/Kaveh angst rabbit hole and wasn’t able to get up from it until this afternoon. Anyway, enjoy!~ Extra note (please read): I will be entering the big city soon meaning I will be leaving some of things here at home. I might not be able to go publish a fanfic for weeks and weeks because it will be a clinical internship. Still, I will try my hardest to make content!~ Warnings: spicy, mentions of bondage and toys XD <Masterlist 1> ------- <Masterlist 2>

Kaveh 

Being an architect and being named as the Light of Kshahrewar, being meticulous and having an eye for detail is something that Kaveh is very talented with. 

Whenever Alhaitham is out, he makes his merry way to make the shared house more ‘homey’. He’ll decorate it with paintings, with flowers, and with furniture, which sometimes lead to petty fights whenever the scribe is home. 

Having an eye for detail is probably one of the things why after one magnum opus, he found himself down in debt and still drowning in it. Well, it’s not like he can just make a building and that’s it right? 

He takes the habits of looking out for detail everywhere especially inside his room once the doors have closed and his roommate is out. 

Kaveh will take his time typing you up with the ribbons that he soaked in warm water beforehand, making sure that it won’t leave a mark on your skin. That after all is his job to do and not the ribbon’s job. 

He’ll fix the lights inside his room, making sure that it will show the awaiting flower fastened with ribbons on his bed. 

Kaveh is taking longer than usual. His eyes already darkened by the dim lit room looked like predatory glances at the corner of the room. His hands skillfully erased and redraw the lines in his sketchbook, taking notes of every detail present in front of him. It’s fascinating how he never seemed to miss any detail at all. From the ribbons that tie your thighs apart, to the sweat that drips from your neck down to your chest, to the way your eyes roll from every thrust the hand operated toy gives you, and to the wetness that pools and is slowly staining the sheets beneath you. 

It’s a shame that the paper and charcoal can’t capture your whines and pitiful whimpers but that’s for him to savor once he puts his sketchbook down. 

Alhaitham 

Theoretical and then practical. It is one unwritten law that every scholar learns once they enter the Akademiya. A lesson that became a practice to Alhaitham even after his days as a scholar. 

While it is a standard, it is not really something that should be done in everything. If it wasn’t for Kaveh noticing his attempts for courting and then for sure Alhaitham would still be spending his nights wide awake reading books about courting and planning the best possible scenario to make you say yes. 

Alhaitham was very vanilla behind closed doors. He’ll make sure that both of you are satisfied and properly cleaned every night you lay together. If he makes a mark that sure will bruise, he’ll look at the ice crates and make sure you’re treated properly before he can go to sleep so you won’t worry about covering anything when morning comes. 

It all comes to a stop when a tired student accidentally passes a folder with an erotic book instead of his thesis proposal. This man hates novels, he just reads them for the sake of reading and then forgets they exist afterwards. 

He’ll rather stick with boring and nonsensical drafts made by students than read a romance book but here he is spending his whole night trying to make sense of the book and a mind full of thoughts on how he could make use of the book. 

You wondered what happened. The best guess that he’s stressed out from the ‘junk’ that the scholars are passing on his desk. There was never a time where his office was clean and lucky for him the ceilings are high or else the room will really be flooded with papers by now. One particular harsh thrust pulled you out of your head evoking  a loud moan at the same time and knocking you off your hands and knees. 

“Oh god !” 

The said man only let out a miniscule smile as he continued the rough pace. “There is no god here darling, you’re calling the wrong being”, he said, emphasizing each word with a thrust. HE snaked his hands underneath your form, scooping you up from the sheets, before resting it on your throat. 

“You know my name right? Why don’t you call it that?” As he felt your heartbeat tripled in pace, Alhaitham mentally thanked the student that accidentally passed the book. Maybe he should consider their thesis proposal.

Taglist: @uchihaeirin @eccedentesiast-sapphic @tinandabin @chihawari

[purityonice]

💚🎤VELVET X FEM! POPSTAR! EX! READER! 🎤💚

Requested? yeah :)

GUYS accidentally posted my draft for another VELVET X FEM! POPSTAR! READER! 😭 OOPS i was wondering why it wasn’t in my drafts…

(Y/N) used for popstar name or real name depends on which you would loike.

You let out a bone chilling screech as you watched your spot on the charts being taken over by Velvet and her brother. Your assistant cowered in fear as you shoved the tablet into her arms getting up and stomping around you studio.

"She can't even sing!? I know her better than ANYONE and she sounds horrible!" Gripping your hair kicking your dressing chair out of your way walking into the recording booth. Your assistant Satin looked at you confused as you placed your headphones on and fixing your mic.

"Uhh what are you doing?" Satin spoke up looking at you through the glass, rolling your eyes in annoyance tapping on the glass signaling that you couldn't hear her. "oh right. Pressing a button her voice coming through the speakers as she asked her question again.

"What does it look like Stain!? i'm going to make a another album so that EVERYONE and i mean EVERY knows who should be hitting number one on the charts!!” You groaned in frustration as Satin looked at you unimpressed.

“It’s Satin not Stain and you just released an album! How can you release another one? let alone you didn’t even write any songs, come back in here.” She deadpanned at your insane thought process as you knew that she was right. Spinning around in your chair as Satins voice spoke through the speakers.

“You also have that interview with Kid Ritz for the Bop On Top at 3:30, it’s currently 2:44 you should come back in so we can help you get prepared.” Jumping off of your chair and walking out of the recording booth. “FINE!” grumbling while you began to get pampered by your makeup crew.

It was now 3:25 and you have five minutes left to prepare yourself, A crew member powered your face as another held your cup while you sipped on it. Satin was behind you talking about your schedule.

“No that won’t work I want to have a chill sort of day can you rearrange it for me?” You were calm now after Satin managed to stop you from your fit earlier. Opening the door to the interview room your eyes widened as you saw your ex and her brother sitting chatting away. Snatching the cup from the crew members hand chugging the rest of it before throwing it into the bin making sure to be as obnoxious as possible. Satin looked just as bewildered as you as you turned to face her.

“Satin? I thought this was a SOLO interview?? ifitsasolointerviewthanwhyisSHEhere?” You stammered angerly waving your arms around. Satin stared at her scedule again scanning it frantically before stopping and showing it to you pointing.

“I don’t know?? I specifically put solo interview with Kid Ritz? and I was constantly informed it was going to be a solo interview?” She said scratching her head as Velvet’s voice spoke up from behind you.

“Oh my godd is that-“ She said sarcastically before hopping up from her seat and strutting towards your confused frame. “So nice to meet you again.” sugar laced sarcastism was forced in her voice as your heart began to race. Your back turned to her as you could feel her eyes boaring into your body. Quickly turning to face her not realising how close she was.

Your faces were practically a few inches away from eachother, You could hear the beat of your heart in your ears and the way she breathed as you felt your stomach begin ti flutter. Ignoring that feeling as you stared deeply into her eyes tilting your head to the side a smirk crawling onto your face.

“Wow really? I can see that since you manged to take my solo interview AND spot on the charts you leech.” You spat out as Vevets face dropped into a scowl her eyes darking as she took a step closer towards you.

“You know if you wanted me back so badly all you have to do is apologise instead of autotunneing the FUCK out of your voice to steal my spotlight just for me to notice you again.” You cackled out as Velvet was about to open her mouth to speak the director ushered us away towards the chairs as the show was about to start.

“HEY GUYS and welcome back to the Bop On Top and today we have Velvet and Veneer with only two months on the scene have surpassed everyone for the number one spot!” Ouch this hurt your ego seeing in your peripheral vision Velvet smirking as she made a fake shocked face before posing for the camrea with Veneer.

“But we ALSO have a starring guest joining these two on the stage today DRUM ROLL PLEASE.” You closed your eyes rolling them internally as the drum roll began to play getting your camrea smile ready. “(Y/N)!” Kid Ritz spoke excitedly as almost all of the cameras were now on you. A fake sweet smile was plastered on your face as you waved and blew kisses towards the camreas for the TV as you opened you mouth to speak.

“oh my gosh! thank you for inviting me on the air tonight Kid Ritz but I was just wondering… I thought this was going to be a solo interview?” You spoke trying your best not to chew him out right then and there. He didn’t even flinch before speaking about something involving the three most famous people on mount ragous.

Velvet spoke up crossing her legs and stretching out her arms laying them on the headrest of her seat. “I am quite upset about this too (Y/N) I didn’t want to make you feel bad on air due to me taking your number one spot on the charts.” Her voice was low and sarcastic as her face turned to you. Your eyebrow twitched as your gripped the sides of your chair shaking it off before playing it cool.

“Well I dont feel very threatened especially since your last live preformance.” You spat out venom as she gave you a disgusted look cocking your head to the side a small smirk on your face mouthing.

“Bite me.” Velvet stood up from her seat stomping infront of you placing her arms on each side of your chair her eyes peirced thought you as she leaned over you.

“Maybe I will? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She said leaning close to your face feeling your face heat up. ‘God I miss her stupid pretty face’ you thought before Veneer let out a cough.

“We are live, you know?” We both stared unphased before she moved back to her seat her eyes ligering on me before she sat now next to her brother.

The interview went on like normal with me and Velvet going at eachothers throats for the majority of it but when it was our time to sing Velvet blasted out her voice. My eyes widened as she flipped her hair looking smug as I sat there in awe.

‘H-How?’ I thought, It felt like waves were coming off of her as she sang, her brother took the spotlight over when it was his turn.

Ignoring what Kid Ritz was saying as I side eyed Velvet licking my lips as I felt my throat run dry.

‘Maybe she did change?’

[marsmarbles]

I hope you guys don’t mind more writing ‘cause I want to do it more often. This was meant to be a request for Gem and Skizz interacting, but I accidentally posted my work in progress instead of saving it as a draft lol. So uhhh sorry. Imma try something new and sprinkle in some art to go along with the story(since I’m assuming you guys wanna see that more than writing)

What Makes Me So Special?

Word count: 900

It was late morning when Skizz entered the detective’s base living room looking down in the dumps. Gem was sitting on the couch to Skizz’s left, which was more of a wooden bench. There wasn’t a lot of options for furniture. It was either a rock couch or a wooden couch, and Skizz knew Grian and Gem wouldn’t let a rock couch in their living room slide.

Gem was wiping down her brand new diamond sword with a white cloth(which won’t ever be white again, probably), which she had just taken for a test drive overnight. It was stained with monster guts and dark, almost brownish purple zombie blood. It was truly disgusting, but Gem seemed unbothered, letting it seep into her long, pleated skirt as she held her cyan blade on her lap.

Gem didn’t even have to look up to examine Skizz’s expression, she knew something was wrong. No way in the whole Minecraft multiverse would Skizz walk into a room without so much as a hi.

Skizz plopped down next to her on the couch with a long winded sigh and a grunt as his bottom made impact with the thick wood of the couch. He continued to sigh and readjust his sitting position like he had forgotten how to sit correctly, bobbing his eyes back in forth, trying to catch Gem’s eye. He wanted to talk about something that was bothering him, but for some reason he wanted Gem to strike up the conversation. Then, he began whistling, which could be seen as a death sentence. As skilled as a fighter Gem was, she’s wasn’t afraid to give her friends a good whack if they annoyed her.

Instead, Gem compacted herself like a shrimp to put her face closer to her sword, pointlessly scrubbing more violently in one spot, which was very much clean by now. Her eye twitched in annoyance to the sound of Skizz’s airy, ear piercing whistle. Don’t get her wrong, she loved Skizz, but she had just pulled an all nighter fighting monsters and really didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone right now. She had the eye bags and unkept hair to show for it.

After tolerating Skizz for a good long while(and being on the verge of stabbing him), Gem finally gave in. “What’s wrong, Skizz?” Gem groaned.

“GEMSTONE!!” Skizz shouted a little too loud. He had been holding in his words for what felt like forever. He most definitely looked constipated. “Y’know how I really like Impulse??”

“Yeah…?” Gem replied, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘and?’. What was new? She’s heard this story a bagillion times. Skizz really likes Impulse. Skizz pretty much told her every second of every day. Or at least he’s brought it up enough for Gem to give up on counting.

“Well….” Skizz hesitated. He actually seemed serious for once. Or was it sad? Maybe it was the tone in his voice. “I guess I feel kinda lame ‘round him, y’know. He’s just so smart and cool and I genuinely love to be around the guy. He’s special y’know….Special to me…..I just don’t feel special….I can’t build a house without it looking ugly. I can’t make a red stone thingy-ma-jig and have it work. And I can’t even fight good. I can’t even muster up the courage to tell him how I feel about him…” Skizz took a shaky breath. He sniffled, tilted his head up, and blinked a lot, trying to suck back the tears attempting to escape his eyes.

He continued. “How can I possibly believe that he loves me too…..what makes me so special?…..I guess….I’m just scared he’s faking cuz he pities me.” He huffed and gripped his pant legs, trying to fight back the tears. It would usually kill a ‘real’ man to be this open.

“Skizz….” Gem’s expression shifted to concern. Now she felt horrible for trying to ignore him. No wonder Skizz was so abnormally hesitant to speak with her, he was trying to talk about feelings of inadequacy. She stared at the floor in contemplation, then drew a long breath, readying her advice. “Well, if I know Impulse(which I do) he loves you just as much.” Gem gave Skizz a small but comforting smile. “And if I know Impulse(which, again, I do) he thinks you’re special….very special.” Gem gave Skizz a nudge in the shoulder.

“But how do you know-“ Skizz attempted to retort.

“Impulse is smart, right?” Gem finished.

Skizz felt his face heat up. His halo, which floated just above his head, began to rotate slowly. He broke eye contact with Gem out of embarrassment, who continued to smile at him.

Gem shoved Skizz off the wooden couch bench, trying to break the awkward silence. “NOW GO GET THAT MAN! He’s waiting for you, Skizz! I assure you !” She projected reassuringly. Skizz was just able to catch himself. “Uhhh- YEAH!!” Skizz shuffled out of his awkward landing position and struck a triumphant pose. He turned back to Gem. “Thanks, Gemstone!! This little chat really helped me out! And it was kinda neat to let my feelings out. Imma go find Impulse!!! Seeya!!” Skizz ran off and out the door with his confidence restored. Gem let herself fall back into her seat on the couch, smiling proudly to herself for a job well done. She shed a tear of joy at the thought:

I’m going to have two dads!

[extremelyexh4usted]

scenario reversal based my previous shiggy fic (what if the reader was playing a game instead of shiggy?)

NSFW, chubby!reader coded, no race implied? reader has a vag but other than saying good girl and princess once, gendered terms aren’t used, praise kink, fingering, previous mentions of sex, getting hickies, unrealistic fingering since no lube will be used, reader already provided more than enough lubricant, squirting implied

correct me if i’m wrong/missed anything in the above description 🙏☺️

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dont read if under 17

if y’all saw my accidental posting of an earlier draft, no you didn’t🤠 and sorry if this is ass😬

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you just wanted to take your mind off the ache from yesterday. tenko had a long day and took it out on you, which you thoroughly enjoyed but the both of you did t realize that aftercare should’ve been a little bit more gently handled. it had been a good 7 hours of restless sleep

you were playing animal crossing for a good 30 min already before your favorite person woke up and crawled on the couch, still yawning. you sat up when he scooted over and put his head on your lap. his eyes were shut, exhausted too. a whimper was heard “morning handsome,” you shot him a soft smile. “mmmmgh..how you feel?,” his face still in between your legs, voice muffled. he flipped over to see your face smiling warmly down at him. even after spending so much time with him you never got sick of how good you felt around him.

the faintest whimper emerged out of your mouth. you held your breath, hoping he didn’t hear it; after all, you were still achy from the night before.

“hey lover?” “yeah babe?,” you replied on edge he knew the state you were in.

he started kissing your neck, leaving kitten licks and bites wherever he could, causing your whimpers to go to full on moaning.

“fuck baby you’re soaking your pants,” you mewled at the feel of his fingers prodding at your overstimmed cunt over your clothes.

he pulled down your pants, and went back to kissing your neck while teasing your hole. “no panties? you were so ready for this weren’t ‘cha? my good girl,” he purred softly.

you preened at the praise, you loved when shiggy made you feel like this. you tried to put down the switch to give tomura some relief but his hand on your wrist gave you a pause. “keep playing, and if i see you pause before you cum, you have no idea how much more sore you’ll be.”

the way your back arched at that was crazy. “tomuraaaa,” you moaned out.

he started to actually touch you instead of the previous ghosting of you like before. you started off to timmy and tommy to sell your peaches and dragonflies, trying to focus on the game instead of the sensations downstairs.

by the time you exited the shop, shigaraki already had 2 fingers inside with another on your clit and your focus wavering.

you started off to water your garden when you felt your orgasm coming. “sh-shit tomuraaa,” “i know baby, i can feel it too, just hold on a little longer yeah? go to blathers and give him your fossils then i’ll let you.”

you don’t think you’ve wished your villager had the ability to sprint more than you did then. after a good minute of running, your orgasm was getting harder to hold back “shiggyyyyyy.. please baby please please can i cum?,” you begged. “just a little longer alright? you’re almost there,” his tone sounded so sweet but you knew he probably had the smile of the cheshire cat if you looked up at him.

as soon as you ran into the museum, you moaned out “please baby i don’t know if i can hold it anymore.” “alright princess let it out. cum for me.”

the single finger on your clit kept stroking as you mewled, coaxing you through your orgasm.

“shit baby you made a mess of the couch. you okay?” “yeah, yeah.. it just felt really good,” you giggled out.

“soooo.. back to bed?” “nah, let’s just stay here for a sec, i gotta plug the switch in.” “clean it off first alright, gotta make sure none of your juices ended up in it.”

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(a/n; tysm for reading🫶 i’ve been going through it with school and being sick but i’m trying to get back into posting again. thanks for the love)

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[image found on rule 34, pretty sure it’s lewdfroggo’s work]

[naturesapphic]

Hello, there! Do you write for victorious, please? Can you write some fluff? Reader (who is new to California) is a smooth-talking, charming "county bumpkin" who wins over Jade's heart on the first day. The other students don't take to R as lightly and a few start to bullying R. One day, a few do what is known as "country crusin'' (in which they would pin R down, beat R up, and take R's money). Reader shows up to school with bruises all over her face, and Jade takes them to the office to clean her up. Fluff ensues.

New partner in town

Jade west x country!fem!reader

Warnings: bullying, Jade being sweetheart

Today was another day where it seemed like everyone around you ignored you or bullied you. You were new to this school and have been coming here for about two weeks now and you barley had made any friends. Besides Tori and her friends but It was mainly you and Tori who hung out.

On this particular day you had a bad feeling that something bad was gonna happen and sadly you were right. These group of kids who have been bullying you since you came here, crowded around you near your locker. Then they started the country bumpkin on you where pin someone down, beat them up, and take their money.

Which is what exactly happened to you outside in the parking lot. You walked in the school with your head hung low until you accidentally bumped into someone. “Hey watch where you-“ someone said loudly until they got a good look at you and they gasped quietly. “Y/n? Oh my goodness what happened to you!” They said as they took you by your arm and takes you to the office.

You look up to see Jade west dragging you by your arm to take you to the office and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. “Some people did the country bumpkin on me. Thankfully they didn’t steal a lot of money from me since I only use my card but I did get a extra beating to my face.” You winced as you tell Jade what happened and her face grew angrier at the information you told her. You two went inside the office and Jade began to clean your face and any sort of other wounds.

“Thank you jade…” you reply quietly and she looked up at you and gives you a small smile that you knew was genuine. “Why don’t we skip school and I take you out?” Jade asked instead of demanded, she’s been trying to work on herself. “I’d love to Jade!” You say happily, your accent showing through which made jades heart melt. After cleaning you up she took your hand and y’all went inside her car and drove off from the school.

Throughout the day y’all hung out until it got too dark and everything was closed, but before you left she told you how she felt about you. Jade said that when you first got introduced to her that she felt herself melt at your accent and just you in general. You felt giddy to know that someone as scary as Jade likes you, especially a country girl like yourself. But Jade likes you for you and that like would turn into love in the future.

A/n: sorry this was short but I didn’t exactly know how to write this entire thing but I hope you enjoyed it anyway @rocknroll90 . And I hope the rest of y’all enjoyed too! The next one I’m putting out is a lady dimitrescu fic and that’s my last draft which means I still have some old request I have to put out but besides that everything will be newer and I’m so excited. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[fishhawish]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.From the House of Hearth

Lyney x Reader Angst

Requested but I accidentally posted the draft instead of saving it D:

★

Warnings: depression mention, cheating, kinda self harm

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Requested by @sailorstar9 I'm so sorry for deleting the original on accident. The Gorou one should hopefully be out by tomorrow if I don't need to go back to the hospital.

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Request: Lyney watches reader walk down the isle with their new husband after He tossed their relationship aside to have a 2 week fling with Lumine.

.

I love this request so much I might write a part 2 / two way ending like a fluff and angst yk

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

｡･ﾟﾟ･　　 ･ﾟﾟ･｡

.

.

.

He who gave her rainbow roses. He who left his siblings to be with her. He who put her on the VIP list of every show. He who only wanted to be with Her. He who loved her popularity and fame. He who tossed aside everything, even You just for the almighty traveler. And Yet he has never given You a rainbow rose. He has never left Lynette or Freminet to spend time with you. He replaced you on the VIP list.

You thought you could trust him, I until the night of his performance at the Opera House. Swinging open the door, excited with a gift for him and ready to give him a good luck kiss. But it wasn't meant to happen. There the two where, in each others embrace kissing each other's cheeks and laughing happily together. Just as You and him once did.

Upon him noticing you, he did not even bat an eye. He simply did not care. He started at You, not smiling, no interest or loving expression that he used to hold when he looked at You. You could see it when he looked back at her, how his eyes lit up, how he smiled and came alive. But his next words are what truly broke You. The words that broke him too.

"My sincerest apologies, but I'm afraid it doesn't matter now does it?"

"oh please don't cry now, I don't want to deal with you. He said confidently. Lumine looking at him with confusion and guilt on her expression. He turns back to her "do not pay mind to my mistake." Lumine looking at You in an apologetic way before she pushed Lyney away and walks out of the room instantly. You did not see a face expression on him before you too turned around and left the room.

It's such a shame he threw away years of his relationship to be with her for only two weeks.

Years of healing, trying to trust again, was a very difficult process. But eventually it happens, when You meet your now significant other. The true man of your dreams. Better than any of your exes could ever hope to achieve. And now here You are walking down the isle, most beautiful and elegant clothing on. Flowers decorating the beautiful isle that You will walk down.

You and Lyney are still friends, yes. But he can only think why You would even consider torturing him so much by inviting him. Surely you know this pains him in the worst way possible right? His every regret flooding back to him, the way he misses you. The way he misses your affection, your voice, your scent, your quirks even your flaws.

Ever since his mistake that day, his fling with Lumine. The worst day of his life, his reason for his loss of motivation, his loss of happiness, his loss of light. He is completely dull, like a burn out lightbulb. He's tried so hard to win you back over, but he knows he's failed. He knows he's failed you, failed his siblings, failed himself.

Every night to ensure he can get away from his emotions he picks up a bottle. Ruining his health too.

Lumine in her dress, elegant and sweet, after the incident he lost her too. Lumine, who left Lyney after she realized her mistake. Lumine who apologized to You and became close to You. Lumine who did the right thing compared to Lyney. She's a bridesmaid.

He stares as You as You walk down the isle, ready to call yourself officially married with your significant other. Lyney's chest aching, he can feel his heart beat in his chest. Sounds being lost to him as he tears up. Aching stomach and the inability to stop himself from acting out.

"Does anyone have any objections?"

"WAIT! Please.. I object." Was all that could be heard.

★

Finished

Thinking about writing a part 2 like mentioned earlier

REQS OPEN AS USUAL SLOW RESPONSE DUE TO HEALTH ISSUES

[sleepanonymous]

In light of recent events (that I fully missed and only caught the resolution of), I figured maybe I should drag this post out of my drafts instead of sitting on it like a coward.

TLDR: It’s important to respect the band, but it’s equally as important to respect your fellow fan’s wishes to not know Sleep Token’s identities.

(These two asks are from the previous drama, not what happened yesterday.)

I’ve had those 2 anon asks sitting in my inbox from that drama last month with a Tumblr user revealing Sleep Token’s names in a rant post because the guys did not unmask during/after the Wembley ritual. I hate to bring this back up but I feel guilty because I pretty much tossed a barrel of toxic waste onto that existing dumpster fire and walked away as everything exploded. I’d gotten back to everyone who DMd me and sent non-anon asks, but couldn’t answer these two. I didn’t want to publicly put that tumblr blog on blast because I did not want it to look like I was trying to instigate a witch hunt.

I had planned on ignoring these two asks since I had no way to DM the anon users, but figured I may as well use this as an opportunity to talk about something else: Sleep Token’s identities and respecting the band member’s wishes to stay anonymous.

Nowadays it’s nearly impossible to simply look up “Sleep Token” and not have the guy’s names and/or faces spoiled. It’s not your fault if this has happened to you, and you aren’t a bad person or disrespecting the band. Even if you looked up the information on purpose, that doesn’t make you disrespectful. It’s human nature to be curious, especially in regards to things that you love.

It’s okay if you know the names and faces of the member’s of Sleep Token. It is not okay to pass this information along in Sleep Token fan spaces, even if you disagree with the anonymity aspect or believe it’s just a gimmick. It is okay to be curious about the members and search for information about them online (such as old projects, public accounts, etc). It is not okay to harass them or their friends/family online (and yes, commenting “Worship” is harassment outside of Sleep Token’s official accounts). It is okay if you don’t find Sleep Token attractive after seeing their faces. It is not okay to hate on them or bodyshame them, especially in Sleep Token fan spaces. It is okay if you recognize the guys out in public, such as outside a venue. It is not okay to draw attention to them, take unsolicited photos of them, or approach them with anything other than respect.

The point I’m trying to make is that you can only be responsible for yourself. I am in a space where I regularly use Sleep Token’s first names, and relentlessly censor myself outside of that space to make sure I don’t accidentally namedrop. If I, an adult with ADHD and a 50 second attention span, can do this, so can you. Know that if you are refraining from openly sharing/spreading information about the band’s identities, you are not only respecting the Sleep Token’s wishes to remain anonymous, but you are also respecting countless other fans that are trying to avoid that same information for their own reasons.

It’s also important to remember there are people on the other side of the screen before sending hate. It’s easy to forget that a living, thinking, feeling, human reading what you’re saying. The best way to deal with people online who give you strong negative emotions is to block them and forget they exist.

If you’ve read this far then I just want to say that you’re amazing and I love you (especially if you’re my mutual or follower). You’re all truly the best community in this fandom. I hope you’re having/had a fantastic day. Forehead kisses and Large Mug Morning Espressos™ for all of you.

[ampheenix]

If we stayed connected, would I be forced to change?

TAGS: mizuena, getting together, flirting, texting, fluff and angst, 5k

SUMMARY:

Wait a second. Ena froze.

There was… there was no way she had accidentally posted that sketch of Mizuki on her social media account, was there? That was insane, she would never make such a stupid mistake, so matter how sleep-addled her brain was.

Please let it be posted to the art account, please let it be posted to the art account, Ena begged to herself. That she could deal with - hardly anyone would see it anyway, she thought bitterly.

Terrified thoughts roaring in her mind, she opened the app, frantically wishing that her internet would load faster, fuck!

And then… it loaded… and Ena sat there, aghast.

---

Or, Ena accidentally uploads an incredibly detailed sketch of Mizuki to her public social media, instead of the Nightcord server.

…and it’s not nearly as disastrous as she’d expected.

Mizuki had been acting… different, lately.

Ena chewed on the end of her pencil, brows furrowed in suspicion.

She had always been the teasing type, but she seemed to have upped the ante as of late. A little wink here, a little smirk there, just a touch more flirty than the usual. And especially with Ena.

The most irritating thing about it was that no one in Nightcord had even noticed the subtle changes in her behaviour – or if they had, they hadn’t said anything, which was even worse!

Maybe she was just being paranoid, or overthinking it… but agh, it was so obvious!! Why wasn’t anyone pointing it out, raising an eyebrow, anything?!

Hell, the other day… all of them were in voice chat and in response to Ena making a comment about how tired her hands were from sketching, and how she wished they would cramp up less, Mizuki had been all “and here I thought you were good with your hands!”

That playful tone, commented with a flirty wink as she rested her chin on her hand, had made Ena’s mouth drop open immediately.

Then, after a brief factory reset, she had complained with a hint of pink in her cheeks, being all “ha ha, very funny!! My hands are actually so sore, the least you could do is appreciate my efforts… and at least I’m meeting my deadlines, unlike you!”

And sure, Mizuki said stuff like that all the time, but – argh!

Ena buried her head in her hands, flushing madly. It was different now, for some reason!! And she just couldn’t put her finger on why exactly!

Well, whatever, Ena huffed to herself.

There was no use thinking so hard about it, and stress was bad for the skin, so unless she wanted to break out she needed her thoughts to shut up.

With a tired sigh, Ena ran a hand through her hair, mussing up the silky brown strands. She attempted to turn her train of thought back to the drawing she was supposed to be working on.

Right, so she had a basic head-and-torso draft here… But, hmmm, maybe she could try using this perspective instead, to highlight the silhouette and make it stand out more…

She erased guidelines and pencilled in soft features, bright eyes and a head tilted just so, a hand raised in the beginnings of a wave, fingers delicately posed.

Ena lost herself in the sketch, pencil strokes filling the page. Absent mindedly, she added a touch of lace there on the skirt, soft lips raised in a hint of a smile, long legs, a cute bow and long-lashed eyes…

A black fineliner captured the details, the way light pink strands cascaded in a ponytail over her shoulder, creamy skin and soft cheekbones, a freckle on her elbow and chipped nail polish on her ring finger…

Before she knew it, the birds outside her window were singing, the sky was starting to lighten outside, and the subject of her thoughts was staring out at her from the page.

Ena nibbled on her lip, frustrated now. Well… at the very least, it had turned out an excellent piece. Considering she saw Mizuki so often, it wasn’t a surprise Ena had captured her essence so perfectly.

Maybe… Eugh, it would no doubt be embarrassing, but it really was such a great sketch…

Before Ena could think too hard about it (her spur-of-the-moment decision likely influenced by the bags under her eyes and lack of sleep in her brain) she was pulling up the camera app on her phone and snapping a photo.

Within a moment, it was uploaded to the Nightcord server.

“Practice sketch!” Ena hurriedly typed after. She couldn’t let Mizuki get a big head, after all. She had just happened to draw her by mistake, it’s not like she had put a lot of effort in or anything!

And with those comforting lies, Ena was out for the count – she hadn’t had caffeine at all in the past six hours, it was a wonder she’d lasted so long really… and she could already feel her eyes starting to droop.

Stretching her arms back and letting out a huge yawn, she stumbled into her bed, barely managing to yank the covers over her head before plummeting into dreamland.

When she awoke, hours later, it was to the sound of loud dinging.

Head still heavy on the pillow and eyes sealed shut with exhaustion, Ena raised an arm and slapped the snooze button on her clock – so sue her, she wanted some more sleep after an all-nighter.

But for some reason, the dinging didn’t stop. Already irritated, Ena managed to sit up in her bed, rubbing at her sandy eyes. God, why wouldn’t it shut up? She was so tired, shit… maybe this was her karma for her terrible sleep schedule…

Blinking bleary eyes, Ena’s vision slowly came into focus, enough for her to recognize her phone vibrating on her desk. She didn’t remember setting an alarm on there… was someone calling her?

Suddenly, Ena felt wide awake, shoving back her covers as she jumped to her feet. Because that dinging… that was her social media notification tone, wasn’t it?

Oh god… was Mizuki annoyed that she had tried drawing her? Did they all hate her sketch or something? Ena didn’t think she’d said anything weird, all she’d done was send the image on the group chat.

Ena grabbed her phone and collapsed into her desk chair, sinking into the soft cushions  with a sense of dread as it unlocked. Huh, it was noon already? Wait- wait a minute, 99+ notifications on her home screen, what the hell?!

All of them read the same way, pretty much. So-and-so liked and commented on her post, which would be fine, except she hadn’t posted on her social media last night.

Wait a second.

Ena’s mind froze, going into overdrive.

There was… there was no way she had accidentally posted that sketch of Mizuki on her social media account, was there? That was insane, out of the damn question, she would never make such a stupid mistake no matter how sleep-addled her brain was!

Please let it be posted to the art account, please let it be posted to the art account, Ena begged to herself. That she could deal with - hardly anyone would see it anyway, she thought bitterly.

Terrified thoughts roaring in her mind, she opened the app, frantically wishing that her internet would load faster, dammit!

And then… it loaded… and Ena sat there, aghast.

Because of all the horrible nightmare scenarios that had been rocketing around her mind, this- this hadn’t even been on the list, it made no sense, it- what the fuck???

Because yeah, she had accidentally uploaded her art on her social media, the one that actually had followers, the one where she posted cute selfies of herself.

Which ordinarily, would be the most humiliating experience ever, as it would probably get like fifty likes and one or two nice comments made out of pity, and Ena would never live it down.

But… her art of Mizuki, which she had posted on her public social media…

It had gone viral. Insanely viral. A level of viral that none of her selfies, although popular, had ever reached.

A shaky, disbelieving smile started to spread across Ena’s face as she read the comment section, filled with praise to the point where it was ridiculous. People… people loved all the small details in her drawing, the care taken with each line, the small additions of colour that really brought life to the sketch…

They’d noticed how much effort she’d put into making Mizuki feel real. In not drawing her as some generic airbrushed cute girl, but depicting her as a living, breathing person.

Ena could hardly believe it. She scrolled and scrolled through the comments, looking for one backhanded compliment, one negative remark, literally anything.

Sure, there were a handful of toxic comments as per usual, but the amount of people responding to those comments and arguing with them, calling them out on their bullshit and cutting them down….

With a jolt, Ena realized tears were prickling in her eyes. She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve and hardly able to believe any of it, smile bright enough to light up the sky, because-

Her dad had been wrong. So, so wrong.

And she’d finally proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt, or so it felt like it. People LOVED her art, they really did! This was proof!

There was just one thing niggling at the back of Ena’s mind, as although all these strangers adoring her art and heaping praise upon it was the best feeling in the world…

Well, there were three people’s opinions that she valued more than any stranger’s.

A lump of anxiety in the back of her throat (but a small, unshakeable smile still on her face despite it), she exited the app and opened up Nightcord.

There were 3 unread messages in their group chat, and… 1 DM from Mizuki.

Steeling herself, Ena opened the group chat first.

10:09 AM

K: @enanan, your drawing of mizuki seems to have really taken off! I’m glad :)

10:32 AM

Yuki: It’s a good sketch. Better than her usual art. I’m not surprised.

10:35 AM

K: I wonder why it was posted at 5am though? perhaps she stayed up all night

K: if you did, hope you’re having a good sleep, ena

K: you deserve it after your hard work

Ena initially felt her smile brighten from Kanade’s kind words – supportive, as always. As she read, her lips twisted at Mafuyu’s backhanded compliment, but oh well… that was practically a standing ovation, coming from her.

Ena typed back a quick appreciative response, not letting Yuki’s snide words slide but still appreciating the compliment overall.

 And then… Mizuki.

Her finger hovered over the chat button, paralysed by indecision. She almost.. didn’t want to know what her best friend thought of her sketch. Everyone else loved it, but- well, what if Mizuki hated it?

What if she was irritated that Ena hadn’t asked first before drawing her, or was annoyed that she hadn’t gotten it quite right? Or angry that she had posted it publicly without asking??

Lost in a turmoil of negative thoughts, Ena didn’t notice her finger accidentally touching the screen and opening the chat. She jolted with surprise, eyes immediately darting to read the screen.

5:32 AM

Amia: :)

Wh- what the hell is that supposed to mean?!?!

All anxiety immediately left Ena’s mind, scowling as she typed back a response.

1:13 PM

Enanan: What the hell is that supposed to mean ?! (╬▔皿▔)╯

Just say u love my drawing or say u hate it like a normal person u weirdo

Minutes passed without a response, despite Amia’s status remaining stubbornly bright green and online. What gives?

Ena felt indecision return to her thoughts.

Maybe… shit, she really should have asked first!!

1:20 PM

Enanan: btw sorry I didn’t ask u first or anything, I actually didn’t mean to post it

I was so sleep deprived I accidentally did that instead of sending it to the gc lmao

Ena fidgeted as she sat back in her chair, glancing to where the sketch sat on her desk. It looked the same as it had last night, still maybe one of the best pieces she’d drawn… well, if Mizuki didn’t like it, that was her loss!

Ena huffed to herself, folding her arms. It really didn’t matter that much, it was just a drawing. Maybe she should just go back to sleep, or something…

Then, she heard her phone ding with the Nightcord notification tone, and she instantly grabbed her phone, nearly throttling it in her hands as she willed it to unlocked faster.

1:25 PM

Amia: oh

that makes sense, u would never post ur art to ur selfie acc on purpose

Ena hesitated before responding.

Something felt… off, for some reason.

Mizuki wasn’t using emojis, and maybe it was just the lack of tone indicators but – it felt like she was upset about something.

1:26 PM

Enanan:

well duh!! (ノ｀Д)ノ

still so shocked it blew up like that tho

guess ppl loved the way I drew u lol

Ena typed that last sentence with a sense of boldness, wondering if Mizuki would pick up what she was putting down.

That she had tried really, really hard to capture Mizuki in her element, and that the main reason people loved it was that she had succeeded.

Anyway, she had absolutely no clue what Mizuki was seemingly upset about… hopefully it wasn’t because of her.

1:28 PM

Amia: mmm

congrats on that, ur art’s finally getting loads of attention even tho it was on accident haha

Ena frowned. Okay, now she was sure something was wrong.

1:29 PM

Enanan: hey are u allg?

I might just be overthinking but u sound upset

R u jealous now that I’m famous ♪(´▽｀)

1:30 PM

Amia: you WISH

Just u wait one of my edits is gonna become “that one edit” on tiktok any day now

( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Ena let out a sigh of relief. Okay, phew, maybe Mizuki was just tired or something, or maybe she had been overthinking this entire time.

1:31 PM

Amia: and btw dw, I’m fine

was just surprised ig

1:31 PM

Enanan: surprised at what?

With a shock, Ena realizes something, scrolling up their messages.

Mizuki’s odd tone started after… after Ena had told her posting the drawing publicly had been an accident.

Was she disappointed? Shit, Ena hadn’t meant to like, imply something about her appearance or anything like that, Mizuki was stunning both in-person and within the drawing and she knew it.

…Right?

1:31 PM

Amia: doesn’t matter

ur art rocks

it’s about time ppl noticed :3

Ena didn’t want to assume… maybe she hadn’t even said anything wrong.

Mizuki seemed fine now, so she shouldn’t push it.

1:32 PM

Enanan: since when r u this supportive

ur always saying my art would be nothing w/out ur editing skills (* ￣︿￣)

1:33 PM

Amia: and it would be

the sketch u posted today didn’t need any editing tho

srsly it’s actually so good ^0^

even yuki thought so, that’s how yk it’s genuine lmao

Ena smiled with pride, cheeks flushing. So Mizuki had liked her sketch after all… well, of course she did. Mizuki always liked her art – although she made fun of it too much for Ena’s liking.

1:35 PM

Enanan: stop ur being too nice its weirding me out

ur right abt the yuki part thoo (*￣▽￣*)ブ

and anyways idk what ur on abt, my art is always better w ur editing

yin and yang or whatever

1:36 PM

Amia: look who’s being weirdly nice NOW

1:36 PM

Enanan: TRAITOR

YOU TRICKED ME

u always make me say the stupidest things w/out realizing omfg

1:36 PM

Amia: o(*°▽°*)o

all part of the charm

Ena let out a light laugh as she rolled her eyes, resting her head on her hand.

1:37 PM

Enanan: please, what charm

You’re about as charming as a stink bug (¬_¬ )

1:38 PM

Amia: ur so cruel enaaaaa

can’t believe I’m friends w you（︶^︶）

I gotta say tho, I’m surprised how many details u got right on ur sketch

I mean u even got the freckle on my elbow (=•ω＜=)ρ⌒☆

Ena paused, feeling her cheeks redden. Well that was embarrassing, Mizuki had noticed? Jeez, it wasn’t like it was on purpose…

1:40 PM

Enanan: well what were u expecting, I’m an artist

It’s my job to notice those thingsss

1:41

Amia: sure but like wow, to that extent? surpassed my expectations enanan, didn’t know u were so observant ~(￣▽￣)~*

u even drew my fave ribbon with the fraying on the side, and the exact shade of nail polish I wear ~ impressive!

Ena buried her head in her hands, EXTREMELY regretting the level of detail she’d put into the sketch. Mizuki would never let it go now, ugh… this was humiliating…

1:43 PM

Enanan: keep talking that way and I won’t be sketching u again anytime soon

o(一︿一+)o

1:44 PM

Amia: awww am I embarrassing u

it’s not MY fault u drew me so well

then again the source material  was gorgeous already so it’s not like it could’ve turned out bad in the first place <3

Ena let out a heavy sigh… Mizuki was kind of right, in a way. She was stunning, after all, it’d have been difficult to mess up a drawing with her as the subject.

1:45 PM

Enanan: should’ve known you’d get a big ego from this…

1:45 PM

Amia: you didn’t deny it

:3

1:46 PM

Enanan: …

Stfu ￣へ￣

1:46 PM

Amia: HAHAHA I KNEW IT (≧∇≦)

Ena bit her lip, considering. A small, teasing smile started to creep across her face.

1:46 PM

Enanan: I don’t get why ur surprised honestly

 Ur literally gorgeous

1:49 PM

Amia: ur being sarcastic aren’t u… ur so cruel enanan ~(>_<。)＼

Ena frowned.

1:49 PM

Enanan: no I’m not u dummy

Ur cute and u own it, idk why ur always trying to get me to admit that

1:50 PM

Amia: oh stop being silly, ik ur not being srs

There’s no need to be so mean ( ˘︹˘ )

Ena’s frown deepened. What? Ugh, since when was Mizuki so bad at just taking the compliment?

Then again, it was true that Ena rarely, if ever, complimented her… well, she didn’t state it aloud, anyway. Mizuki always knew what she meant whenever she was being stubborn about admitting something, so there never any need to say the praise out loud.

Had she really never outright given Mizuki praise before? Ena’s brows furrowed.

This was embarrassing, but… she should keep pushing, otherwise she’d feel like a bad friend.

1:51 PM

Enanan: jeez, ur so bad at taking a compliment

my sketch reflected how pretty u are u dummy, I didn’t put so much effort into it just for u to refuse to admit ur cute all of a sudden

Ena waited for a response, feeling her cheeks warm. Why was Mizuki taking so long to respond?

The three dots indicating her friend typing appeared at the beginning of the screen for a few seconds, and then vanished.

Ena raised an eyebrow.

The three dots appeared once more, then… gone.

After what felt like ages, a new message finally popped up.

1:59 PM

Amia: well obviously I know I’m cute, but it took me off guard to hear you say it yourself, enanan (〜￣▽￣)〜 so bold!

2:00 PM

Enanan: idk I just realized I’d never actually told u upfront and I felt like an asshole

jeez, don’t tell me ur getting an even bigger head now…

2:01 PM

Amia: aha, so that’s it! I was wondering why you were being so honest, it’s unlike you

And how can I not get a big head when I’m told how pretty I am by my dear Enanan? ~

O(*￣▽￣*)o

2:01 PM

Enanan: I’m always honest, screw you!!

Ena felt heat spread across her face despite her annoyance, smiling like an idiot. What was all this about “dear Enanan?” Mizuki was so embarrassing, god.

Not seeing her friend typing, she swiped off the app, going to check her social media again.

Ena’s eyes promptly bugged out of her head. IT HAD DOUBLED IN LIKES?! This was insane… at this rate, she wouldn’t be surprised if her friends from her old art class stumbled across it.

She swiped back to her chat with Mizuki, typing out a message.

2:04 PM

Enanan: good god, did u see my social media

It’s blowing up now even more than before

maybe I should draw u more often lmao

2:05 PM

Amia: I did see it, it’s only natural it should blow up so much when I’m the subject :3

as they say in the west, u should draw me like one of ur french girls enanan – bet that would get loads of likes too ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Almost instantaneously, heat blossomed across Ena’s cheeks, and she buried her head in her hands for what felt like the third time in the last fifteen minutes. Mizuki, damn it – how was she not embarrassed, making jokes like that?!

2:07 PM

Enanan: you are incorrigible

2:07 PM

Amia: I don’t know the meaning of the word >:)

Ena let out a laugh, tapping away on her phone.

2:08 PM

Enanan: anyway, last time I checked if I drew you like “one of my french girls” I’d get banned u idiot

2:08 PM

Amia: oh, so if that wasn’t a problem, you’d do it then?

2:10 PM

Enanan: I’m not even going to respond to that

ur the worst

I never see u teasing K or yuki like that (* ￣︿￣)

There was a suspicious silence for a few minutes, while Ena slowly realized something.

Why was it only her that was the subject of Mizuki’s ruthless flirting?

2:15 PM

Amia: why, they’re nowhere near as fun to tease, enanan ���(´▽｀)

And besides, if I tried flirting with yuki like that, I think I wouldn’t survive it – she’d give me a look so icy-cold I’d freeze 〒▽〒

Well, that made sense… but was that really all there was to it? Ena paused, hesitant.

2:16 PM

Enanan: guess that makes sense

I actually have no idea how kanade would react if u tried that on her

she might just stare at u silently

2:17 PM

Amia: I wouldn’t dare tease kanade like that, I have too much respect for her :3

2:18 PM

Enanan: don’t think I didn’t miss that implication…

what a shame, guess if u don’t respect me I won’t be able to draw u again

2:19 PM

Amia: NONO PLS IM SORRY

2:19 PM

Enanan: nope, too late

ur loss

2:19 PM

Amia: （；´д｀）ゞ

why have u forsaken me..

2:20 PM

Enanan: if u don’t want me to be mean, then don’t insult me to my face!! >:(

2:20 PM

Amia: I take it back… I respect you so, so much enanan, I am but a humble servant before her queen o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

2:20 PM

Enanan: that’s more like it

2:20 PM

Amia: all I can do is kneel before ur throne and kiss ur feet in apology (；′⌒`)

Ena grimaced.

2:21 PM

Enanan: ok ew no need to go that far

2:21 PM

Amia: well, perhaps in apology I could kiss somewhere else then (○｀ 3′○)

Almost instantaneously, heat spread like a rash across her cheeks. God, Ena didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

2:21 Pm

Enanan: I am actually going to scalp you

2:21 PM

Amia: …on the cheek, of course!

gosh, ur so dirty minded! :0

Flushing, Ena bit her lip in hesitation, before finally addressing the elephant in the room that only appeared to be visible to her.

2:22 PM

Enanan: okay seriously, what is it with the teasing?? (╬▔皿▔)╯

I swear ur doing it way more than u used to

and the others don’t even notice for some reason- literally why?!

2:22 PM

Amia: I already told u why! It’s fun :3

2:23 PM

Enanan: what, do u just love flustering me or smth?? Is that ur idea of fun ( ˘︹˘ )

For some reason, after that, Mizuki stopped responding for a while. Ena fully thought her friend had gone to eat lunch or something, and turned back to her sketch.

Then, after what felt like ages, her phone pinged.

2:59 PM

Amia: maybe

I mean, I didn’t realize u got so flustered purely by my silly teasing (╯▽╰ )

Fuck!!

Ena shoved her sketchbook to the side, grip tightening on her phone. Her cheeks felt hot all of a sudden, as she realized that Mizuki had no idea that her flirting had been having such an effect on her.

And now she knew just how flustered she’d been!! Ena grimaced- this was humiliating. She instantly went into damage control mode.

2:59 PM

Enanan: I don’t get that flustered, don’t flatter urself ( ˘︹˘ )

I get like… idk

The normal amount of flustered

whatever that is

Ena worried at her lip, anxiety making her throat feel tight. That response was fine, right? Mizuki wasn’t going to think she was weird, was she?

Her eyes didn’t stray from the three dots bouncing on the bottom of the screen, finally relenting when a message came through.

3:02 PM

Amia: real slick ena <3

ur not falling for me are u (=•ω＜=)ρ⌒☆

Mizuki had completely gotten the wrong idea, how embarrassing!! Jeez, there was no coming back from this one… Humiliated, Ena tried to swallow down the lump in her throat, and with a jolt, realized that tears were starting to well up in her eyes.

She was… she was a bit too invested. Why did she care so much about this? Why did she feel so damn anxious? It was embarrassing, but- but not that embarrassing.

Ena leaned back in her chair as she pushed her phone away, hands fisted tightly in her skirt. Her gaze was heavy as it rested on the floor. Her thoughts began to unravel like a ball of thread.

There was no way Mizuki’s joke just now was true, was there? Ena’s deathgrip on her skirt tightened. That was silly, there was just no way- like sure, she cared about her, Mizuki was her best friend after all, but falling for her? Pfft.

Plus, Ena wasn’t gay. She hadn’t really had any crushes on guys before, but that was normal, wasn’t it? She hadn’t liked any girls either, so it evened out.

She was straight, she always had been, jeez. Mizuki was just making some stupid joke.

So why was Ena… why was she close to tears? Her lip was nearly being worried to pieces, humiliation spreading in scarlet across her cheeks, and all the while her heart, it- it hurt.

She felt physical pain in her chest, along with a sense of despair. Ena let out a heavy sob, and then another one, breath starting to come faster.

She- god, she really did like Mizuki, didn’t she. She liked her best friend.

Which meant she was one of them, and that she was… hell, she was practically a pervert. Disgusting. She let out a choked cry, fingers digging into her arms.

They were such close friends, fuck, had Ena been creeping on her this entire time? She was- she was disgusting, sickening, and such an awful person- why was Mizuki even friends with her? She definitely wouldn’t be after this mess.

Mizuki was going to find out the truth, and then she was going to lose her. Slowly but surely, tears started to trickle down Ena’s cheeks, as her arms came up, cradling her head as she rocked back and forth.

What was she going to do?

In the midst of a breakdown, she barely heard the buzz of her phone. She scrabbled at her desk for it, grabbing it and pulling it to her chest as her eyes frantically scanned the screen.

3:15 PM

Amia: enaaaaa where did u go 💔

when I said falling I didn’t mean literally fall, did u lose consciousness lmao

Ena let out a strangled sound that was half-sob, half-laughter. She scrubbed at her tears with her sleeve, watching as her best friend continued to type.

3:16 PM

Amia: or is it true that u have fallen for me after all ~(￣▽￣)~*

wow maybe ur so in love that u fainted after seeing my message

well my dear enanan, just say the word and we can elope togetherヽ(￣ω￣(￣ω￣〃)ゝ

Maybe… maybe Mizuki wouldn’t be as disgusted as she’d thought. She’d always been open-minded, after all.

Ena’s nails dug into her skin, as she squeezed her eyes tight shut, trying to get the pain to distract her from her stupid, stupid thoughts. That was ridiculous, she had to play it safe. She couldn’t risk it.

How to respond, how to respond…

3:18 PM

Enanan:  please, I wouldn’t marry you even if u held a gun to my head

you’d probably try to make me do all the chores and spend all your time sewing

3:18 PM

Amia: I’m not hearing a no! (*￣▽￣*)

and wow, u wound me… if anything, you’d make me do all the work and spend ur time preening in front of a mirror like a peacock! :3

Ena let out a stunned snort, a watery smile returning to her face. Mizuki wasn’t wrong.

3:19 PM

Enanan: well, even if we eloped I doubt ur the romantic type

I’d probably divorce u within a week bc you’d love ur outfit mannequin more than me

￣へ￣

3:19 PM

Amia: lies and slander!!

I would be SO romantic

3:19 PM

Enanan: yeah right

3:19 PM

Amia: well, that’s rich coming from u considering I was able to fluster u with my teasing (★ ω ★)

3:20 PM

Enanan: that’s different

3:20 PM

Amia: how exactly? :3

Ena clenched her jaw, frustrated. God, why was Mizuki pushing this subject so much? Why couldn’t they just move on and forget all of that had ever happened?

3:20 PM

Enanan: it just is

Ur my best friend it makes sense that you’d tease me like that, even if it drives me insane(╬▔皿▔)╯

3:20 PM

Amia: enaaaaa ur so dense

I’m not teasing u like that just bc ur my best friend

( ˘︹˘ )

What was Mizuki on about now? Ena knew the teasing wasn’t because “she had funny reactions,” there were plenty of people Mizuki could tease if that was the case, so why her?

3:21 PM

Enanan: well then why

Just be honest u dunce >:(

3:21 PM

Amia: u want me to be honest?

idk if I can be :>

maybe first u should be honest about why my teasing flusters u so much

Slowly, Ena’s eyes widened, static filling her head. What the hell. What the actual hell was this. Did Mizuki know?

Had Mizuki known the whole time, even though Ena had only realized a few minutes ago?

With dawning realization, she scrolled back up and reread her friend’s messages, but this time in a different light.

Mizuki… Mizuki couldn’t be honest about why she was teasing her, just like how Ena couldn’t be honest about why the teasing had flustered her. Did that mean…?

She took the leap, fingers shaking slightly.

3:23 PM

Enanan: mizuki

be honest rn

yk I won’t judge u for anything

If Ena was right, the situation was very, very mixed. Because on one hand, they’d both like eachother… like that… and the sheer idea had vicious butterflies attacking her stomach.

But on the other, it would mean Ena liked girls.

And she- she didn’t really know what to think about that. Or even where to begin thinking about that.

There was silence from Mizuki for a while, as she waited with bated breath. It was the longest twenty minutes of Ena’s life.

Her heart jumped in her throat as she finally saw that her friend was typing. Come on, come on… she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this high-strung. Then the typing animation disappeared, and she slumped.

And after a twenty agonizing minutes that seemed to drag on for hours, she glared at her screen. Because Mizuki’s icon had changed to the little grey circle that indicated she was offline.

What the fuck?! Ena finally had the courage to make a move, hating herself all the while, and this was all she got?!

Fuming, she tossed her phone to the side, letting out a frustrated sound. She had given her the perfect opening! The stage was set, for god’s sake!

Maybe… shit, what if she’d misread the situation completely? Did Mizuki think she was weird? Was that why she was being ghosted?

Ena was sick of this. She needed to do something, anything, or she was going to lose it. Her eyes scanned her room, searching for a distraction.

Maybe she could try out a new makeup look? Try and style that pink skirt that was stubbornly refusing to pair with her other clothes? Or…

Her stomach grumbled, obnoxiously loudly, and she rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe should take care of her basic bodily functions first.

Everything else could wait.

And if Mizuki didn’t text back by nightfall, she was going to break into her stupidly pretty best friend’s house and force her at knifepoint to type out a response.

(This is chapter 1! Next and final chapter out soon <3)

[tofulikesmala]

Genshin men with a kairi type reader

Notes: this was a request that I got but I accidentally deleted it because I thought it would be saved as a draft and it didn’t so I wrote halfway and accidentally deleted it. If I remember correctly it was 🦇🩷 anon? Anyways I hope you find this post, I thank you for being my first requester and I apologise for writing this late. I would also like to mention that I don’t know who the fuck kairi is so I had to do some research, and I apologise if she’s ooc. And I’m gonna say I don’t know that much about wriothesley so it’s kinda short

Who?: alhaitham, Xiao, Neuvillette, Wriothesley (if there was anyone I forgot, please do message me again so I could write!

genre: fluff (platonic)

reader is around 14-16

Xiao

Well, I don’t know how the frikity frack how you managed to get this guy to give a fuck about you but let’s say you do. Well, he would be passive aggressive. Like example it rains, you are drenched because you forgot to bring an umbrella, so you call out his name. Xi- he’s there. You can practically hear him roll his eyes and sighing internally as he sees you drenched. He pulls you towards him as he mutters foolish mortal under his breath as he teleports you to wangshu inn with him. And with a bit of magic once you arrive there he throws a towel on your face and leaves. But hey he cares! When he discovers your dairy and doodles he scoffs as he asks you what was the purpose of it. You smile gently at him as you explain your purpose. But as someone who has lived so long, of course he doesn’t understand. He would act as if he doesn’t care, but expect to find your dairy missing because he’s gonna read everything💀. Onto another topic. Somehow…. He’s attracted to your liveliness. How energetic you are, and how even though you’re weaker at him, your eyes would be filled with determination to keep him safe as well. All in all, Xiao cherishes you deep inside.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham well….is probably worse than Xiao. In my opinion. But he’s much more true in showing his protective side, after all he sees you as a little sibling. Whenever danger arises, he would be those kind of guy to put a protective arm around you, shielding you from any harm. He admires your courage when he sees you wanting to fight, not wanting him to get hurt as well. But he probably dismisses it as stupidity instead. Now… onto him discovering your dairy and doodles

Alhaitham walks into your room, realizing you’re not there. He sits on your bed, waiting for you to come. He notices something in the corner of his eye. He turns his head slightly as he sees a book opened lying face down on the bed. He picks it up as he wonders “what do we have here” he reads it, to find out it was your dairy, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle when he saw your cute doodles. When you opened the door, your face flushed as you saw alhaitham reading your dairy. Looking at you, alhaitham places the book back down and says “pardon me, but the curiosity got the better of me”

Neuvillette

This man would probably be the one who shows the most protectiveness out of all. After losing two good friends, he intends to lose none more. He always brushes you aside when you want to fight along side him. Your beautiful, cheerful and energetic nature just brightens up his day. He sees you as a friend, a young child who shouldn’t see the dangers of the world yet. Someone he must protect. He’s never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you 😔. Now, where he discovers the dairy and doodles

I’m lazy so let’s say he found it by chance. He gently flips through the pages, smiling as he sees your cute doodles on your dairy. He reads through your everyday life. Warmth filled his heart as he decides, that’s he’s going to make your life much more interesting. As he sees you, he smiles warmly and says “ah, I have invaded your privacy, have I not? I would like to apologise.” He stands up, looking down on you (because we’re short :( ) “Shall we go out for a walk?”

Wriothesley

Well, he grew up in an orphanage, he’s good with kids. Meaning he’s good with you. He’d be that one really caring brother, but he can be such a tease sometimes. With both of your personalities, you guys would click and get along really well💀👍

Let’s just say y’all are talking in your room and he sees your dairy. “Oooo what do we have here?” He grins as he picks up the dairy. Your face turns to one of panic as you tried to take it away from him, only to have his strong arms push away your head gently as he reads it out “Today I blablablablabla” only to leave your faces flushed with embarrassment as he continued to read your dairy. His eyes widen as he chances upon a doodle of him. “Aww this is so cute” as he ruffles your hair. Your groan at him. “Can I have it back already?” He shuts the book with a satisfying thud as he stands up, the book still in his hands. “Nope! I’m gonna read it all!” He smirks at you before exiting the room.

[babydollmarauders]

have you done lovie + jack headcanons??? if not i would love to see some!!! <3

i have not! and i’m ngl, i’ve never done headcanons, so i had to ask the gc how to do them— so i hope i haven’t failed you with these!

this is so late and i’m so sorry. this has been sitting in my drafts for so long now and i just remembered about it.

on Lovie and Jack’s first real date, they went to the drive-in, and Jack spilled his coke on her top. he thought it ruined his chances, but Lovie just laughed and stole the hoodie that she knew was under his passenger seat.

Lovie’s lockscreen was a picture of her and Jack after one of his USA games, all the way until El was born! then it switched to a picture of Jack holding El to his chest, doing skin time. it’s still her lockscreen to this day.

we all know Jack calls her “lovie” , but from that, she started calling him “love” and they both call El “lovely”. so it’s a family of love nicknames.

a few months into their engagement, Lovie was dress shopping with Ellen, and thought she found her dress, so she took a picture. later that day, she accidentally sent the picture to Jack instead of the selfie she took of her and Ellen out to lunch. Lovie proceeded to freak out for DAYS, thinking that she accidentally showed jack her wedding dress before the wedding. which prompted her to drag Ellen and Quinn into a different dress store one day while they were shopping, which led to her finding her the dress she absolutely fell in love with and ended up actually being her wedding dress.

Quinn once smacked 17 year old Lovie on the back of the head after seeing her cooing from afar over Jack playing with his little cousin. Quinn told her “don’t even think about it. you’re still teens.” to which she replied “i wasn’t thinking about it!” … she was definitely thinking about it.

when they first moved to Jersey, Lovie was still technically 17, so she felt awkward sitting with the other WAGS. after she opened up to Jack about her nerves, he let it slip to Bratt. it was Jesper’s girlfriend, Nicole, who took Lovie under her wing and made her feel comfortable, because “just because you’re young, doesn’t mean you aren’t a WAG. in fact, it may even be best, because we get to be there for you and teach you the ropes and how to deal with it all.”

Jack called her in tears on his first roadie because he was disappointed in how he played and overwhelmed with it all, and he just really wanted his Lovie in that moment. they ended up staying on facetime the entire night, even once they fell asleep.

Jack and Lovie’s first time was when his parents and Luke once went on a last minute trip to visit family and left him home alone because he had a game. afterwards, Lovie felt so guilty that she had come over and done something so scandalous while his parents weren’t home, that she called Quinn and confessed it all. Quinn and Jack both had to reassure her that she wasn’t a bad person for simply taking advantage of the alone time.

Lovie was a dancer from the time she could walk. Jack was able to go to a few of her recitals, and every time, he would bring her a giant bouquet of Lilies, her favorite flower, and was always put into awe of how graceful she was when dancing. especially because she’s a pretty clumsy person any other time.

when Jack and Lovie found out they were having a girl, they had to do a coin toss to decide if Jack would try and convince El to play hockey, or if Lovie would put her in ballet. Jack won, but as soon as El was born, they both scrapped it and decided that they’ll teach her the basics of both and she would be able to choose whatever she wanted to do, even if it’s not hockey or ballet.

Jack pre-cuts cucumbers for Lovie every morning if he can, because they’re her favorite snack and he knows that it can sometimes be hard for her to get a chance to make something to eat with El attached to her hip. so, he tries to have them cut and ready for her so that she can just take the container out of the fridge and not have to actually do any prep. sometimes she drizzles them in italian dressing, but most times she just shakes them in tajin.

[totally-not-here-for-the-smut]

Saw you did some hc’s for edging and overstimulation! If you don’t mind, could I request maybe the m6 edging/overstimulating the MC too? Ty!

Late edit: " Write as spicy as you want, and I mainly like Julian and Asra! "

Of course you can ask! So, here's something more specific about the MC being edged/overstimulated :)

Silly post decided to be published before it was ready (nope: I accidentally put it on programmed instead of drafts. I do this to be sure to never delete a request by mistake). I'm writing them right now! So sorry for the inconvenience ^^"

Overstimulation and Edging Vol.2

♤♤♤

Tw: domination, crying, public, group

Considering how Julian is a big fan of quickies, for you being edged is a daily occurrence. He takes every occasion he can get with you, and between him being pretty quick and having so little time, you often get so close to coming without actually having an orgasm. Julian's shoulders and neck are covered in small half moons where you planted your nails into his skin out of frustration each time you felt him sliding out of you before you could have your release. You hate and love when, out in public, he kisses lightly your fingers telling you "Later, my love... later", acting as he didn't just came inside you minutes before, leaving you unsatisfied.

It's a game between you two, and he expecially loves how rough you become at night when he's had fun with you the whole day without giving you the time to come. Those nights you fall asleep on his drained and bruised chest, with him caressing your head in pure, exhausted bliss.

Asra loves to mess with you. Sometimes, when you're making love, he suddenly stops and gets up as you're about to come, and announces in that soft and kind voice of his that you don't deserve to come since you haven't been a good enough apprentice that day. The contrast between his tone and his words leaves you always speechless. But it doesn't end there: he will tease you again and again, touching and kissing you to bring you again on the verge of the orgasm, and then leaving you again. Every time you beg him to let you come, he smiles at you and brushes your hair away from your strained face. He has a box of marbles, and he moves one into his pocket each time you beg him for an orgasm.

It's often late at night when you're woken up by his light kisses on your back and neck and caresses all over your body. Without a single word he's inside you, having you moaning with pleasure, touching you until you come in an explosion of pleasure. It's only at that point that you realize he put a certain number of marbles in you hand, just as he removes one... before going back to kiss you, touch you, stretch you, ignoring your complaining of being too sensible. You begged him so many times to let you come, before... now, he'll listen to each and every pray.

Nadia loves to overstimulate you. Her lingering touch is a sweet torture on you, and so you wriggle and twist in the bed as she pacefully reads a book, with one of her steady hands firmly placed between your legs.

Edging you it's more a mental thing, though. She keeps flirting with you when you're not alone, and her hand casually ends up on your inner thight under the table. It drives you crazy and leaves you wanting for more and ready to burst.

She loves when you're in the carriage together. She jokes that it's one of the only times when she enjoys to knee in front of someone. With your clothes pulled up and her head between you legs, she gets you to almost came... casually, right before you have to get down the carriage.

Lucio loves having you begging and crying into his bed. Some days he wakes up rather demanding, and he wants to see you come again and again, as if he wants your moans to be his soundtrack for the day. He starts fucking you himself, and when he gets tired of fucking you he has someone doing it for him as he watches and listens. Sometimes he has you and your partner in the next rooms, and solves his duties as he listens at your desperate orgasms on the other side of the wall. When you meet him again at night, you're exhausted and sensible... the count thinks that is a great time to have you come again with him inside you before going to sleep.

Other days, he wants to be selfish. He fucks you as he pleases, without touching you or bothering to make you come. It's frustrating, but you love it. He literally wants you to get off the bed and on your knees, begging him for one little orgasm... he's a magnanimous lord and grants your wishes, but not before taking advantage of your such inviting position.